Pathways of Life
Story by Kaa Bakensobek on SoFurry
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A Path of Thunder -- Part Three
"Pathways of Life"
"Archosaur down! Archosaur down!"
The sudden, desperate scream blared through the speakers in Darkthunder's helmet. The terrorclaw had heard Grell shout loudly many times during previous missions against the drug smugglers. Loud and often obnoxious, the armorback always sounded in control, whether he happened to barge orders to other soldiers, or hurl an expletive-laden curse at the aliens they fought constantly. This time, however, his voice came in desperate and hoarse, almost as if he were choking from deep, emotional pain.
The terrorclaw turned to look at a large, armored body in Patrol gear and armor tumbling down a hill covered by thick vegetation.
Brakkus.
The groundthumper rolled and tumbled uncontrollably, limbs going each way as the saurian hit bushes and rocks on his way down, his weapon and a couple instruments he was carrying now moved in different trajectories and away from him. With his keen predator eyes, Darkthunder could see blood coming out from beneath his broken helmet, most surely from a head wound.
Scarcely two minutes before, Darkthunder had ordered his team to spread out and comb an area for any remaining aliens. He had sent Brakkus and Grell up the hill and use it as a vantage point to inspect the surrounding area, and rely the position of any possible hostiles they could identify.
Apparently, the mammals had thought the same much earlier.
"All soldiers, lock on my coordinates and move your tails here!" Darkthunder screamed into his microphone as he began to run towards the hill. "We have some hostiles left!"
As Darkthunder started to make his way to the hill, the groundthumper's body hit hard against two small trees and wedged itself in between, which stopped his uncontrolled fall. His limbs and neck flopped about one last time, and he remained completely still. And silent.
Unconscious... or dead.
"Brakkus!" Grell shouted desperately into his microphone. "Brakkus!! Get up! Please! Good Maia! Answer me!!"
Higher above, Grell remained huddled against a larger tree while enemy fire rained down all around him, his body poised desperately to follow downhill towards his fallen friend, yet knowing any attempt to do so would mean he also would be hit by the enemy before he could take a few steps.
Darkthunder felt a hunter trance come in stronger, almost like during his younger days with his pack. Early in the mission, he had let his primal self manifest itself slightly, as he had always done during every mission. Now he encouraged the savage part of his mind to come out even further, but kept it under tight control despite the inevitable migraine that would eventually follow from splitting his mind into two different levels of sentience. He sought the improved senses of sight and smell that his primitive self granted him, but he needed his thinking mind even more. It was a duality of life for terrorclaws, one that he welcomed and cursed.
Somewhat ahead of him, two young trihorns lead the race towards the hill, weapons ready and firing towards the two longtusks that kept Grell unable to fight back. Darkthunder had not seen them before; he had not managed to get to speak to them. The terrorclaw had been in their position once -- fresh from the Academy, they had been selected for this incursion as a chance to build up their real combat experience.
Veterans or not, soldiers had the same mission. There was no reason any soldier would perform any less admirably.
A glint of metal weapons high on the hill barely gave Darkthunder time to react, much less to issue a warning. It was immediately followed by a larger volley of laser fire, one of which hit the trihorn further ahead.
"Sevran!" The other trihorn shouted as he raced for cover.
The injured soldier screamed as he held his hands against his bleeding leg. Almost immediately after, another beam hit him in the neck while two more hit around the chest area. The screams died, and the saurian fell to the ground.
The second trihorn shouted desperately the name of his comrade as two other soldiers who had followed right behind the trihorns now tried frantically to keep him from running towards the fallen soldier, while laser fire started falling all around them..
"Hold the assault!" Darkthunder commanded. "Hold the assault! Get cover!"
The terrorclaw cursed and growled with anger as he scrambled for cover, then held onto his position. He squelched some words before they came out of his lips as he began firing back after assessing the safety of his position. His comrades were already familiar with him letting out a few words in his native terrorclaw language, and some had even picked up and learned a few words. But right then it probably would not help to add to the chaos and confusion.
This had turned out to be the hardest incursion ever of his career. The success of his first runs as commander of the Tarrakhan was beginning to lose its luster. Progress against the smugglers had begun to run into obstacles, as the aliens were beginning to catch up to his plans. Or perhaps the success of his early missions forced the mammals to increase their security against the Patrol.
Darkthunder had tried to vary his strategy, yet it only met with limited success. While his team always managed to destroy the enemy's operations, their own losses were beginning to mount. And Darkthunder's main goal of taking the apparent leaders always remained elusive. A latent fear had begun to creep in, that his future as a commander could be in jeopardy. It was a thought he had to suppress and cast into the recesses of his saurian mind. Right then, he had some hostiles that needed immediate termination.
He turned to look towards the fallen trihorn; a pool of blood formed under his body. His primal senses, enhanced by the hunter trance, could not feel a trace of life. He glanced to where Brakkus had fallen. Same result. Two more soldiers lost, and twelve fatal casualties in this mission alone -- the highest number the Tarrakhan had suffered in any incursion. Death was not alien to the soldiers; it was something to be expected in combat. It was a reality even during his days with the Ssrash-Mahr. Miscalculations during a pack hunt were at times costly, and sometimes deadly.
But whether he lead a party of terrorclaws or Patrol soldiers, he could not continue losing his hunters. He felt personally each loss.
Darkthunder needed to finish this attack quickly. While he could wait for the mammals to exhaust their ammunition, and the reinforcements from the Tarrakhan would arrive within an hour, he had no idea if any other aliens were lying in wait, perhaps even moving around to surround the archosaurs just as he thought about the possibility. This also precluded him from sending a few soldiers from trying to surprise the mammals by climbing from the other side of the hill. If the archosaurs could get to the top of the hill, they would all be at a much better position to defend themselves if necessary.
His radio crackled as a distant signal came in. "Commander!"
"Arokh!" the terrorclaw screamed as he heard the voice of the eyeridge. "Where the hell are you? We are encountering resistance and have suffered casualties!"
"We're about fifteen thousand paces to the northeast, Commander! Still in the city; our search came up negative. We are approaching your location as fast as we can! The roads are heavily populated by local residents!"
"Proceed with extreme caution, Lieutenant! We may have more hostiles surrounding us! And whatever you do, don't run over any of the darned lizards! We don't need them against the Domains!"
"Understood, sir! Arokh out!"
Bad time to be caught with his team split in two. He had sent Arokh along with fifteen other soldiers in an armored ground transport to search a small, nearby city also thought to house some of the aliens. Now would be the time to have the large hunter with him. Darkthunder could certainly use the other armored vehicle, after Brakkus had managed to get their own stuck in a pond.
It was bad enough the Patrol had to fight against an enemy bent on undermining the Domains, spreading their poison from within archosaur borders. They also chose to operate from worlds officially within the boundaries of the Archosaur Domains, yet populated by their own indigenous reptilian species in various stages of civilization. While still within the Domains, every planet retained their own independence and governments -- if already at that stage of civilization -- and looked at the more advanced archosaurs as a source of technology and commerce.
Most inhabitants of these planets had gotten used to having archosaurs going about and sometimes taking portions of their lands for the Domains' own purposes. They still did not take kindly to getting bossed around, or having battles brought to their doorsteps. Which made it near impossible to completely eradicate the mammals when one tried to preserve a planet and without pissing off its inhabitants.
Darkthunder tapped some buttons on his left wrist as he readied his equipment for broadcasting to the Tarrakhan.
"Dak-Tarrakhan, this is Commander Darkthunder! Alert code ten! I repeat, alert code ten! We are encountering resistance! Deploy drop ships Three and Four!"
He did not pause to wait for an acknowledgement -- a single beep in his helmet speakers was enough confirmation that his orders were received. Time was of essence, and distractions were to be kept minimal.
Darkthunder stopped firing long enough to consider his course of action. He watched attentively at the beams of energy coming down from the enemy's position, and narrowed down the types of weapons the mammals could be using. He had studied every single type that the Patrol had managed to gather from other incursions. The terrorclaw was aware of the weapons' capabilities as well as their limitations. At the rate they were using their guns, the mammals would need to lower their firepower briefly while some of them reloaded.
"Archosaurs! Switch radio frequencies to ten-five-six!"
If the aliens were monitoring their conversation, the move would give the soldiers only a few seconds before their conversation could be intercepted again. More than enough for the terrorclaw to give his next set of orders.
"Kakkuttek!" he barked as he moved to face the longjaw.
The longjaw acknowledged from his position, not stopping from firing his weapon upwards. "Sir!"
"Ready an energy grenade and a launcher! When I give you the order, run uphill and fire it at those bastards! The rest of you, hold your positions and cover him!"
"Yes, sir!" the longjaw replied, and put away his rifle momentarily as he began to prime a grenade.
Almost four interminable minutes passed before three of the longtusks stopped to reload while some of the remaining ones concentrated their efforts on Grell, still pinned against the boulder and much closer to the mammals' position.
"Now, Kakkuttek!" Darkthunder commanded. "Go go go!"
The longjaw placed a long metallic stick inside a special gun, then held onto the gun with his jaws. Holding it gently but tightly with his teeth, he raced upwards, using his hands in an almost four-legged gait to assist himself in climbing faster. Meanwhile volleys of laser fire from the saurians below soared a mere two paces above him.
The longjaw ran until he was just slightly closer to the hill than Grell. With one swift motion, he spit the gun into his right hand, then aimed and fired, not stopping moving even for a second as he turned around and dived to roll down the hill. The longjaw angled his trajectory to bring himself close to the fallen Brakkus. Darkthunder made a mental note to commend the longjaw for his thinking to take care of a fallen teammate, though they may have to abandon the body if it turns out that more mammals were nearby.
A loud scream and curse was heard from the longtusks. Barely two seconds later, a loud explosion ripped open their post, sending objects, dirt and aliens flying in all directions, and showering the saurians with the debris. One sabretooth slammed on the ground just two paces away from Darkthunder's position. The mammal spit blood and gurgled something before lying still; the terrorclaw took in the scent of the blood as he jumped over the now dead body and began his run for the hill.
There were times when he wished he could eat some of the dead.
"Everyone! Take that command post, now!" Darkthunder commanded. He passed by the dead trihorn and kept running. The thought pained him somewhat, but there was no time to gather the dead until the aliens were completely routed out.
He noticed Grell far ahead, almost at the top of the hill. He had used the commotion to rush towards the enemy, completely alone.
"Sergeant Grell, hold your position! Do not engage the enemy alone!" the terrorclaw shouted as Grell reached the enemy outpost, now completely shrouded with thick dust and smoke. The armorback disappeared into the dark cloud without a pause and apparently with no regards for his own safety.
Shit! I don't need another fucking dead sergeant! Darkthunder thought as he forced his hunter trance to get his legs to move him faster. His ears pulsed with the rush of blood pumped frantically through his body.
Darkthunder heard a loud scream of saurian rage before yet two other mammals came flying out of the smoke cloud. For the second time, another mammal -- this time a large and corpulent longtusk -- landed in front of the surprised terrorclaw. Having apparently survived the explosion, his skull was now bloodied and bashed in, as if hit by some blunt, heavy object. The sounds of physical struggle continued for several seconds, then died down completely.
"Sergeant Grell!" Darkthunder shouted as he cautiously entered the still thick cloud of smoke. "Sergeant, do you copy!" Behind him, the sound of approaching saurian boots stomping on dirt as his squadron got closer.
The terrorclaw could smell the mammals, and the strong armorback sweat. And blood.
Mammalian blood.
It took several frantic heartbeats before a reply came. "All clear, sir," Grell said.
The armorback appeared as the dust cloud began to dissipate, surrounded by three dead mammals, their bloodied skulls also showing signs of being bashed in. His tail swung sideways somewhat violently, its bony end sporting several bright crimson stains.
"What the hell have you done?" Darkthunder asked, exasperated.
"I finished what we started, sir. These three and the previous two are my work." He pointed to a few bodies thrown against several large crates. "The rest were already dead by the time I got here."
"Were you trying to join them yourself? There could had been more of these bastards lying in wait!"
"Sorry, sir," Grell said, unapologetically. "I was blinded by rage. For a moment... after what these motherfuckers did to Brakkus, I did not care whether I came out alive."
Darkthunder's three-fingered hands curled in anger. "Damn the cursed egg that spawned you, Sergeant! You are an Archosaur soldier, not a primitive animal! Put your training and combat gear first, not your emotions!"
Grell snorted as he casually aimed a finger at the terrorclaw. "Just like yourself right now, Commander?"
Darkthunder caught himself baring his teeth in anger. It was an unconscious reflex from his hunter trance. It had slipped further out than he realized, and was beginning to take control of him. He growled in anger; a few nearby soldiers hurriedly put some distance between them and their commander.
The terrorclaw turned angrily to look at them, and all the others around. His large toe claws twitched and scrapped the ground as he screamed. "Now don't you all stand around like stupid hatchlings! Move your sorry tails and take positions around this post. We may still have enemies in this area!"
He turned towards the armorback. "We will have a talk after we make it back to the Tarrakhan, Sergeant. And you better hope this ends up well, because I --"
"Commander!" Kakkuttek's voice came in loudly through the speakers. The longjaw was apparently still at the bottom of the hill.
"This is Darkthunder. What are you doing down there, Kakkuttek? We need to keep together until we can verify --"
"Sorry, sir! It's about Sergeant Brakkus! He is still alive!"
Darkthunder paused, shocked from the revelation. He had potentially abandoned a teammate.
"Stay where you are, soldier! Medic, head down there for immediate assistance!"
Darkthunder gave the last order knowing fully well it was unnecessary. He caught a brief glimpse of the medic's tail -- a fleetfoot -- before it disappeared as the medic raced downhill.
He turned to look at Grell; the armorback's eyes were wide, as if in shock. "I think you may have overreacted, Sergeant. Come with me."
Darkthunder turned towards the soldiers, and picked out a spikefrill and another groundthumper. "You two as well. I will need your strength if we have to carry him up here. The rest of you, stay here and keep an eye for hostiles."
The four saurians raced down the hill, and towards the longjaw and fleetfoot already tending to the fallen Brakkus. Kakkuttek had apparently ripped Brakkus' top armor and shirt off, and had used part of the shirt to staunch the flow of blood from the groundthumper's head. Meanwhile, the medic waved a scanning stick all over the groundthumper's body. He looked briefly at a screen before searching hurriedly for instruments and medications to treat the injured soldier.
The terrorclaw crouched next to the medic. "How serious is it?"
"Extremely, sir," the medic said as he tended to the head wounds. "I have no idea how he managed to survive a direct hit to his head. But he definitely will die unless we take him back to the Tarrakhan soon."
"The drop ships will be here soon, but this is probably not a safe spot to wait. Can we move him, Ty-Grich?"
The fleetfoot shook his head. "Only to a stretcher, and that only for getting him onto a drop ship. He suffered serious internal injuries. Moving him could make them worse."
"Acknowledged." Darkthunder motioned to the four soldiers. "Keep your weapons ready. Stay here and provide cover if needed until the drop ship arrives."
Grell nodded, his attention mostly on the fleetfoot. "What are his chances, medic?"
"Honestly, very slim." The fleetfoot pulled several flasks of drugs from his pack. He hurried with each one, barely finished injecting one into the groundthumper before he moved to the next one. "Now please don't distract me."
Kakkuttek smiled slightly as he watched the medic in action. "I'm not one to ask bad for a fellow soldier, even if they were annoying. But I would appreciate if you make sure he gets an extended stay in the sick bay, medic. Some of us would welcome the break."
"Hey!" Grell shouted, annoyed. "What was that supposed to mean?"
Kakkuttek said nothing as his eyes gazed at the injured groundthumper.
"I'm talking to you, phallus nose!" Grell said as he grabbed one of the longjaw's shoulder pads.
Kakkuttek swatted Grell's hand away. "Did you get shot in the head as well? You know very well what it means, dick brain."
Darkthunder turned to look at the two soldiers. "Sergeant, Corporal, that's enough."
"Don't you talk to me like that, you water lizard reject!" Grell said, oblivious to Darkthunder's request as he readied a fist. "Now take back what you said, or I'll --"
"You what? Don't give me your usual rank bullshit, armorback! Hell, I'll take back what I said, all right! I hope your stupid friend dies! I'm sick and tired of you and your bitch buddy keeping all of us awake with your screams!"
"What, you want some tail action? I'll give it to you right now when I kick your sorry ass!" The armorback lunged at the longjaw.
"Hey, watch it, you brutes!" the medic screeched as the two saurians struggled, their large bodies perilously close of running over both him and the injured soldier.
Darkthunder shoved himself between both saurians, while the spikefrill and groundthumper tried to separate them as well. Pressing a hand on each of the soldier's stomachs, the terrorclaw began to press his claws until they began to feel the sharp claw tips of the terrorclaw's fingers. "Break it off! Break it off! Sergeant, Corporal! Enough!"
"I'll get you later!" Grell shouted at the longjaw as he tried to break away from the spikefrill holding him.
Darkthunder roared in anger as he turned to look upwards at Grell's face. His voice came in harsh and shrilling, almost like the screeches and screams he would utter during a pack hunt. He caught himself slipping even dangerously further into the hunter trance. "You'll be getting no one, as long as they are reptilian! We already took a beating from these bastards. I don't need my own soldiers trying to kill themselves!"
Grell took two steps further back, taken aback by the look in the terrorclaw's eyes. "Sir, I--"
"Not one word!" Darkthunder screeched as he pointed a sharp clawed finger at Grell. "Unless it is related to this mission, I don't want to hear a single word from you, Sergeant! You are skirting into dangerous territory -- you so much put a foot on it, I'll bust your ass and your balls so badly, and whatever little is left after I am done will be shipped back to Makran for Zaron to deal with! Is that clear, Sergeant Grell!"
"Yes.. s-sir," Grell said, his voice subdued, all fight seemingly having escaped from him.
Darkthunder growled, then walked several steps away from the group. He could feel his savage nature moving dangerously close to overwhelm him. Stalking, ready to close in and pounce on his sentient mind.
Hunting... where is prey? The voice of his primal self was starting to grow louder.
He placed his hands on the back of his neck as he paused to breathe fast and deep, pushing his primal self back into the deepest recesses of his carnivorous mind.
Not the time! the terrorclaw told himself in his native language. _ We must wait... wait... wait..._
Yes... waiting... we wait. The primal voice became calmer and softer, but still on edge.
Darkthunder wiped the cold sweat accumulating over his snout. He knew it would be at the most a temporary reprieve. The savage hunter would eventually have to be released, or he would surely follow the same path as his brother before him. He had sacrificed too much, had walked the path of the Patrol for too long, to lose everything.
He wished for an alien to pop out of the woods. The terrorclaw had never killed a sentient being while under the influence of a hunter trance; right then, however, he was more than willing to make an exception.
His thoughts were interrupted as another voice came in through the radio. "Commander!"
"Darkthunder here," he replied somewhat exasperated, already dreading yet another problem.
"Sir... all seems to be well up here. We do not notice any enemy activity in the immediate area. But... we think you better come up here. There is something you should see."
The terrorclaw acknowledged, then trotted upwards. He kept a slightly slow pace, allowing his mind to use the running as a way to alleviate some of the tension building in him. His species was born to run after prey; everyone in his pack would run at times for no reason other than it felt natural. He made a mental note to reserve the largest exercise area in the ship for his own private use as soon as possible after their return to the Tarrakhan. Alone and naked, he would be able to let his primitive self run for a while, and give himself plenty of time before he needed a hunt.
Darkthunder reached the top to find several soldiers gathered around a few crates partially concealing a dead enemy combatant. He sighed, slightly annoyed.
"You called me here to look at a dead body?"
The crowd said nothing as they parted to give Darkthunder a better look.
Jaws agape, the terrorclaw felt the usual tingling at the back of his head that his crest feathers produced as they rose fully upwards whenever something surprised or shocked him. Or rather, they would rise if they weren't kept down by the helmet.
On the ground, clad in mammal clothes, killed by the explosion, was a dead snoutcrest.
- * - * -
The loud hiss from the drop ship's pneumatic brakes had barely announced the craft had landed when the soldiers began filing out somewhat hurriedly. Back inside the safety of the Tarrakhan, their part of the mission now complete, each one wanted nothing more than head for a shower and rinse out all traces of grime, sweat and pain from their bodies.
And for many of them, to place considerable safe distance between themselves and their Commander.
Darkthunder waited for everyone to exit before he jumped out and walked away from the ship. His body was tilted slightly forward, arms drawn close to his torso. His head bobbed slightly with each step, making his feathered crest sway as his feathers with each step. The display did not go unnoticed by the mechanics and every other saurian that had gathered to service the drop ships. Each one gave him a wide berth, eyeing him cautiously as they went about their tasks. Only the large eyeridge was confident enough to walk close to him.
"Everyone seems wary of you, sir."
"I'm aware of it, Arokh," Darkthunder said calmly and softly, but still unable to conceal the shrilling tone of his voice. "I can't help it. My trance will not go away. I'm keeping it under control for now, but I will need to release it before I resume my duties in the Bridge."
Arokh nodded. "The soldiers seemed rather eager to come to me for orders when I rejoined your group after the attack."
Darkthunder said nothing for several seconds. "Your arrival was most welcome and opportune. I needed some time off. The stress of our mission was starting to get to me."
"If I am permitted an opinion, Darkthunder, your trance issues do not sound like a healthy way to live. They could turn into a liability for your performance. And, if I may bold enough to say so, even threaten your very status as Commander of this ship."
The terrorclaw snorted. "I cannot stop being a terrorclaw any more than I can stop needing oxygen to live, Arokh."
"Please don't take it as an offense, sir. I was just pointing out what some soldiers have been talking about. I've been approached directly by a few --"
"I am not here to please the soldiers," the terrorclaw interrupted, "but to fulfill my duties for the Archosaur Patrol. I expect the same from everyone else." He turned to look at Arokh. "You are a predator like me. You surely must have similar issues."
"The need for a hunt is present in all carnivores. But my species integrated in the archosaur Domains almost from the beginning. We have had time to shed a good deal of those primal instincts."
"They seem to be well present in Zaron."
"Deathjaws have been more conscious of their ancestry. They were apex predators once, and certainly revel on this. They seem immune to having the worse of a hunter trance taking over their minds, although one would not like to meet a deathjaw in any stage of a trance."
Darkthunder walked slowly, measuring every step to keep his primal self in check. "I will handle my own internal battles, Arokh. Besides, I was managing fairly well until our discovery."
The eyeridge nodded. "Strange that the idea of a saurian battling along those mammalian aliens could have such a strong effect on you."
Darkthunder growled softly. "I have not been able to put the thought away. I could understand if it had been one of those indigenous lizards; not every saurian race we have met seems willing to want to the Domains. But an archosaur? Something is not right, Arokh. We are not dealing with just the aliens, but also our own people committing treason."
Arokh paused briefly. "The idea of a traitor may seem repulsive, but it is not to be unexpected, Commander. No matter how good any society may get, there will always be those who will want no part of it, or will want more than what they would normally achieve." He paused again, as if to carefully measure his words. "I'm sure there were similar individuals where you hail from."
Darkthunder growled softly as he continued walking in his almost primal posture. "Pack society is nothing like the rest of the archosaurian worlds. We either live together or die separately."
"But there must have been fights for leadership, or territory. Perhaps even a split among your group when someone could not achieve what he wanted and managed to have some of the pack follow him."
The terrorclaw blinked his eyes, trying to recall events just as he tried to keep them from coming far into his rational mind. "I do not remember anything like it, at least not while I lived there. My elders surely would know. I have to admit that such event could be possible. But it would be far from the kind of undermining of society that some of our own people may be planning. And we certainly didn't have our prey conniving with some of our own pack hunters."
Arokh nodded. "Point taken. We probably should consider other possibilities. The saurian could had being forced to do their bidding."
Darkthunder shook his head slightly. "Seems unlikely. He was wearing similar clothes, and there were no shackles."
"Perhaps brainwashed. Countless saurians are missing every year throughout our worlds. Some of them could well be forced into this insurgency, or perhaps join in on their own."
"That may be a possibility." Darkthunder growled softly. "If only Grell had not been so impulsive and killed the survivors from the explosion, we could had some answers by now."
The eyeridge snorted as he continued walking down the hallways, away from the drop ship bay area. He motioned Darkthunder towards one of the elevators, and waited patiently for one of the lifts to arrive. He waited until the doors closed before he continued talking.
"If I recall correctly, I advised you to take some action against the Sergeant some time ago, after his indiscretion in the Bridge."
"I will talk with him sometime in the next few days."
"Seems to me the right time would had been right after coming back to the Tarrakhan."
Darkthunder shook his head as he grimaced from the incoming headache. "It is not something I can do in my current mental state."
"So you could had ripped his stomach open and spilled his guts all over the deck and claimed it was self defense or something. The High Command doesn't seem too particular at some things if you give them excuses."
Darkthunder cocked his head slightly. "I don't think I'm following you."
Arokh bared his teeth slightly. "With all due respect, Commander, I would had put a stop to it shortly after our departure from Makran station. His lack of respect for your authority has become a liability. And his impulsiveness may have robbed the Patrol of some vital clues."
Darkthunder said nothing as he growled. Eyes closed tightly, he began panting slightly.
"We will discuss this later, Arokh. Now doesn't seem the right moment."
"As you wish."
They waited silently until the lift opened. Darkthunder let out a growl of relief as he could see the entrance to the training deck not far away. He turned to look at Arokh as his body swayed from anticipation.
"See what you can find about that snoutcrest. Name, origins, any links to any relatives or people he may have known. I want everything we can find about him so we can present it to Zaron."
The eyeridge paused. "I'll have our people on it, although I would be surprised if we can find much."
"It is better than nothing. I would do it myself, but I need to release this trance. Back in my planet it would had been no problem -- I only had to head to the woods and look for some small prey to hunt."
"Then perhaps you could consider the idea of keeping some small live animals in the Tarrakhan. We probably could convert one of the small, unused cargo areas into a mock forest. It is your ship, after all."
Darkthunder smiled slightly. "The idea has some charm. And surely would feed the thoughts of those who think that a savage should not be in charge of this ship. "
"They'll believe the same whether it is done or not. "
"Yes, you're right. To hell with what they think. Maybe I will ask the deathjaw for permission to have my own hunting area."
Darkthunder smiled. "You are welcome to join me in the deck. I would like to see how a large body like yours performs compared to a terrorclaw."
Arokh bowed slightly. "Thanks for the invitation, but I'll have to decline. The First Officer should probably run the ship while the Commander is out."
"Yes, indeed," Darkthunder said, slightly disappointed. "Carry on, Lieutenant."
He did not stop to watch Arokh walk away, like many times before, as he made a beeline for the door to the training deck -- the screams of his primal mind overshadowed the lusts of his civilized self.
The door closed and locked behind him; the whole area had been reserved for his own use. He began taking his clothes and gear as quickly as possible; any parts that did not come easily, he gnawed and tore at the straps until he broke them off. The walls returned his screech of satisfaction at finding himself naked among the hot and humid atmosphere, set to the average temperature of his pack's territory.
Darkthunder walked over to stand in the center of the room. He looked upwards at the clear ceiling; made of strong glass designed to withstand the rigors of space travel, it nevertheless offered an almost transparent view of the cosmos surrounding him. Only a few support beams and (rafters?) obscured the view. The star field lighted everything inside brightly enough for the terrorclaw to see clearly, once the pupils in his eyes opened and adjusted to the lower light. It would be just like a nocturnal hunt; having his eyes and other senses work harder would wear out his primal mind sooner.
He slowly began to suppress his own rational mind, and allowing his primitive, savage self to finally come unimpeded to the front. As he did, his torso took a more horizontal posture, as much as his evolved body would allow him. His body began to sway and move in sudden motions as the primal hunter began inspecting the now alien and strange surroundings.
Run, his mind commanded. Explore.
He left enough of his sentience active to be able to respond to a predetermined trigger for a return to full sentience. The rest of his intelligent mind shut down to rest as his legs moved his body forward.
- * - * -
Alone in his corner, the armorback looked forlornly as his ship comrades shared meals and lively talk. The cacophony of loud voices entered his ear holes, where it was immediately smashed into a soft, nondescript murmur that barely registered in his mind. Body smells of herbivore and carnivore alike also mingled together, yet he did not distinguish among any that reached his nose.
He fudged with his creamy vegetable soup, eating it half-heartedly. His mind was elsewhere, flooded by numerous thoughts and concerns, mostly on someone who could not be there right then.
The sweat and dirt from the combat area had been washed away already, but not so the pain in his mind.
There was one plate missing on his table. There were no seasoned leaves he could snag, and no one to complain whenever he did so.
He missed his companion. Not that he ever thought he would ever have any other reaction at the loss of his friend. But there was the desire to have the partner he had longed for so long. It pained Grell that the groundthumper would not commit to a serious relationship, so the armorback had considered going elsewhere, even if it meant leaving Brakkus behind. And yet, he could not bring himself to look for anyone else. Brakkus had been the closest he had found to the partner, and he dreaded the thought of losing the groundthumper and never found anyone else.
The galaxy was far too big to look around -- even if the archosaurs controlled only a small section of it, it was still an intimidating and large place for anyone to look. Grell wondered sometimes how anything was ever made possible. With saurians spread over thousands of planets across hundreds of light-cycles, how could any two get together and find love?
Breeding did not seem a problem. Sex and lust were universal, so to speak. Families existed, but many more were born from one-night stands. Grell himself was the perfect example. An unloved hatchling, now seeking affection from another male in a vast, dark and airless void.
He tried not to think of the odds; he most surely would give up if he thought how remote they were. In a way, he was thankful to Maia for birthing so many different archosaur species. There was a much better chance to find what he wanted among other sentients. Love -- and even sex -- could be had with just about anyone, be it a gentle longcrest, or a large groundthumper that he could fuck as if there were no tomorrow.
Or even a terrorclaw.
Grell snorted and tried to erase the thought. Was the fear of losing Brakkus so tormenting that he was already thinking of substitutes?
Who was he kidding? Of course he had eyed Darkthunder with carnal desires in mind. The terrorclaw was certainly comely. All right; decidedly gorgeous, he admitted to himself. If there were a chance for someone to pierce that -- most surely virgin -- tailhole, he would jump and fight everyone for the pleasure of being the first. He recalled that time he saw Darkthunder and Arokh together in the showers; the feeling that coursed through his mind was nothing but jealousy.
Brakkus' voice resonated in his mind._ You are not only most definitely in love, but also in denial._
Grell could not deny it. Despite his feelings of anger and hatred, his mind really wanted the terrorclaw. The reverse was most certainly not true; Darkthunder was coming at the end of his patience towards Grell. If there had been even a remote chance of something between him and the terrorclaw, Grell had blown it during their last mission. Darkthunder had seen fit to send him back to the Tarrakhan on the first drop ship to leave, along with the all the dead soldiers and the dying Brakkus. The last he had seen of his friend, he was immediately whisked away into the sick bay, where the armorback had been denied entry.
Brakkus. Again the groundthumper had returned to his thoughts. He would have to think about Darkthunder some other time.
There was one thing he needed to do. One place he needed to go. He steeled himself for the inevitable news.
Grell took one look at his bowl, the soup now lukewarm. He grabbed it with both hands and placed it against the bony tip of his snout before emptying the contents into his mouth; the rest of his drink followed immediately after. He got up and began making his way out of the room.
His mind clear, the sound of voices started flowing clearly into his mind.
"He will be the death of everyone in this ship, I tell you!" a plateback bellowed angrily at a spikefrill and a domehead sitting across a table from him. "Of course we should be searching for these drug dealing guerrillas, but the Commander is certainly obsessed!"
"I overheard my unit leader saying that Patrol intelligence believes they could be the same ones that killed Prion," the domehead said. "He thinks the Commander really wants to get those responsible for his death."
The plateback growled. "What, is he trying to heap fame and renown on his stinky terrorclaw hide? He must be gunning for a chance to be in line for Zaron's position for when the big deathjaw croaks. Prion may have been a plateback like me, but that doesn't mean I'll track down those responsible to the point of obsession. If it had been Zaron who had gotten killed, Prion would had never forced us to hunt the killers like this Darkthunder!"
The spikefrill shrugged as he addressed the plateback. "And what would you propose we do, Lorek? Complain to the High command? The big deathjaw himself handed Darkthunder the ship along with our lives. The only response to our complaints would be a request for us to turn in our resignations."
"Of course they would! We need to approach this systematically. We have to find some way to get this primitive's ass ousted from this ship, and hopefully from the Patrol."
The spikefrill rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Let's have the Commander court-martialed. As if it were that easy."
The domehead smiled. "Well, his brother got discharged for killing someone. Maybe if we could get our Commander to do the same?"
"Maybe if you offer yourself as the bait."
The domehead flashed an obscene gesture at the spikefrill. "Fuck you."
Lorek slammed his fist on the table. "Shut up and listen. We need to let the majority of the crew on this. If most of us talk, then I believe we have a good chance."
"That is a lot of people to talk to," the spikefrill said.
"I don't think it will take much to convince them. Just remind them of all the dead we have had so far."
Grell had stopped on his way out, and had been fidgeting with an information screen as he listened in on the conversation. He finally felt he had heard enough and turned around. He frowned slightly as he addressed the plateback. "Are the years beginning to catch up on you, Lorek? I don't think anyone joins the Patrol to have it easy."
The plateback stared up at the armorback; the look on his face told Grell that not only was Lorek surprised that the armorback was there, but that Grell had also been listening to everything.
"I'm not looking for special treatment, Grell. You more than anyone should understand what we've been talking about here. You have been a target of our Commander almost from the moment he stepped inside this ship."
"Darkthunder and I have had our confrontations. And yes, I do think at times that he is a hot-headed prick. But that does not give me the right to seek to get him ousted. And what you are advocating is almost mutiny."
The plateback stood almost motionless, surprised at what he was hearing. "By the First Egg! Listen to yourself! Are you now defending him?"
"He is my superior. I follow his orders, and you would do well to do so as well."
"You were down there, in combat. You saw the consequences! And you still want to be Darkthunder's lackey?" The plateback let out a loud, booming laugh. "Are you sure you didn't get hit in the head like your friend Brakkus? Or maybe you are already scouting for a new ass to fuck in case your bitch comes out brain dead and can't scream when you have your disgusting sex with him."
Grell remained immobile for a few heartbeats. He let out a loud roar as he flipped over the saurians' table, sending food and drinks flying, some of which hit other guests in the room. Almost immediately, Grell grabbed Lorek by his vest with only his left arm as he lifted the plateback out of the chair. The chair landed loudly on the floor; all conversations had died as everyone fixed their attention on the two large soldiers.
"You definitely don't use that brain Maia gave you, Lorek," Grell said, his voice soft yet firm and full of anger. "Otherwise, you would had realized the mistake of your words before you even spoke them."
"Let... go... of me!" Lorek said. His spiked tail swung madly, trying to hit the armorback, but the latter stopped it effortlessly with his free hand. "Let go, or I'll have you filthy saurian --"
"First you call me disgusting, and now filthy? If there is anything revolting in here, is retrograde "True Saurian" assholes like you that can't stop farting through their snouts!"
Grell fired an angry glance at the plateback's companions, who apparently considered ganging on the armorback. A swift swing of his clubbed tail stressed the point and kept them at bay. The two saurians retreated hastily, perhaps quickly deciding Lorek's problem was his own to deal with. The armorback turned his attention again at the plateback, still holding him off the floor.
"You have no idea how much pleasure I would get if I were to kick the shit out of you. But I'm already in deep enough water to get myself in more trouble with the Commander. And a worthless worm like you certainly isn't worth risking having my balls busted."
"All right... you made your point!" the plateback said as he continued struggling, perhaps realizing the armorback was far much stronger than he had expected. "Now put me down!"
Grell shook the plateback slightly. "I am not finished, worm. Now you better listen to this. I came here to do a job, and I am not afraid to die doing my duty. So unless a spineless wimp like you can prove he can run this ship better than the terrorclaw, I suggest you forget your little delusions of fame. Because if I ever find out you'll still at it, I'll not only have you accused of mutiny, but I'll keep you quiet by shoving down your throat the big, fat stick I carry between my legs. Because I don't troll for bitches; I make other males my bitches."
Grell narrowed his eyes, and stared directly into Lorek's. "You got that?"
The plateback scowled as he looked at Grell, his eyes bursting with fury. "Y-Yes."
"Good," Grell said, then released his grip on the plateback, sending him falling onto the hard floor. "Enjoy the rest of your meal, worm. It's already on the floor."
The armorback said nothing else as he turned around to walk away. Aware of almost every set of eyes was on him, he swung his tail on his way out and knocked down two more chairs onto the floor as he made his exit.
- * - * -
The terrorclaw stood in front of a large porthole as he gazed at the view outside. Nebulas or planets, or even the random, multi-colored chaos of the tachyon flow -- he always felt humbled at the vastness, complexity and beauty of the universe. Every view was unique, every day he would notice something his eyes had never seen before.
Alone, in the privacy of his quarters, naked as the day he emerged from his egg, his sentient mind was free to contemplate the place for his terrorclaw self was to hold within the galaxy. All while bathing in the light of thousands of stars. Some of that light had started its journey hundreds or even thousands of year-cycles in the past, and was now joined in one place and time. His own body was made of materials that once had been made in the deaths of stars. He was their child; the cosmos given consciousness.
If he regretted anything, it was not having a life span long enough to experience every sight that the Domains could give him.
Darkthunder rumbled with contentment as he scratched his nude skin. Terrorclaws wore little, if anything at all, and that was just for decoration. His race was not born to be enslaved by some perceived morality. He had not bothered dressing after he finished his run; still in the last stages of his trance, he ran down hallways and elevators, flashing his naked black and striped skin for the whole ship to stare at until he disappeared into his own room.
He relished the freedom that his nudity conveyed. Not that he hated the ways and rules of the Domains and the Patrol. The desire for larger hunting grounds had driven him to leave his simple life for one among the stars, and Darkthunder had found in the Patrol a purpose in life. And the chance to lead a very special pack, to hunt in the largest territory ever possible. Chasing the aliens and other outlaws in a never-ending hunt, he derived almost the same satisfaction as hunting prey in his home planet. Civilized life, however, felt rather oppressive at times, and often Darkthunder wished he could just take off his clothes and carry out some of his private duties completely naked while in the Bridge.
The terrorclaw inspected his claws, scrapping dead scales and filing his nails to keep them in top shape. Once done, he proceeded to do the same with his feet, pausing briefly to look at his big toe claws. It was the most striking feature of his race, and what gave terrorclaws their name. Even after archosaurs had gained sentience, the many herbivores felt very uneasy when very close to a terrorclaw, even more than with larger carnivores like eyeridges and deathjaws.
It was something he could not help but feel proud of. The feeling of inspiring fear and respect was somewhat... intoxicating. It was, however, a path he had to tread carefully, lest he follow the same destiny as his disgraced brother.
The terrorclaw sighed. He had joined the Patrol after the merchants had told him Starhunter had done the same. Darkthunder had already many illusions to hunt side by side with his brother. One of them as a Commander, the other as First Officer. Only Maia knows what the two of them could had accomplished together.
Now he had no idea where Starhunter could be, or even if he was alive.
A loud beep and a flashing green light on his console got his attention. He was getting a call. Only one possibility.
The head of a large deathjaw appeared on the screen once the communication link was established. "Good hunting, Commander," Zaron said, quoting a salutation used by terrorclaws.
"General Zaron," Darkthunder said as he saluted. "My apologies for being out of uniform, sir. I... just arrived from one of the exercise decks."
Zaron waved a three-fingered claw in a gesture to dismiss any concerns. "Your apology is unnecessary, Commander. Your race, of all saurians, knows better what it is to live every day without clothes."
The terrorclaw nodded, then sat down in front of the console.
"I received preliminary news of your mission," Zaron continued. "The Patrol High Command will wait for your final report, but it seems like you did very well, Commander. Myself and the other generals are impressed."
"Thank you, sir."
"There are some points I wish to discuss with you later. In the meantime, I have news of your discovery." The general growled. "A rather unfortunate turn of events, though one the Patrol had long suspected. Given the ease at which these aliens continue to operate within our territory, we had already surmised the possibility of traitors within the Archosaur Domains."
Darkthunder's crest feathers rose and fell a few times, as the saurian conveyed his emotions unconsciously. "Considering all that we have accomplished, all the effort that took to get us archosaurs out of the primordial world, all the time being lucky we didn't get snuffed by a chunk of rock from space or other cataclysm... I still can't understand why would one of our kind could betray our proud heritage."
Zaron smiled slightly. "We probably would had done better if all our species had some of the same innocence that your kind possesses, Darkthunder. Archosaurs may be some proud species that seek nothing more than the survival of our kind, and to keep what we believe is rightfully ours. Yet there will always be those who will always want more, even if it means stabbing their own kind for a few more denarks."
The deathjaw paused, his face turning more somber. "It would not be far-fetched to believe there may be a few of those within the ranks of the Patrol."
Darkthunder's crest shot upwards. "The thought... I can't put into words, sir."
The deathjaw remained impassive as he spoke. "It is only a supposition, Commander. How far and wide these traitors may stretch is something the Patrol needs to find out first before we implement any extreme safety measures. The High Command is already busy thinking of a contingency plan to guarantee the safety of our citizens.
"As for our snoutcrest 'friend', his genetic composition is already being compared for any matches in our criminal database. We already started requesting for any other databases from all planets in the Domains in case the first one produces no results. We are hoping for the best, but we are facing the possibility that this will not be an easy case to solve. Any results will be sent for your eyes only, Commander. This is of utmost importance. Do not discuss them until I give you clearance."
Darkthunder began bringing up data screens on his console as he spoke. "Yes, sir. I've set up a special code and channel that will remain open even during T-Space so it can start receiving upon reentry."
"Excellent. We will get to the bottom of this, Commander. For now, please keep your duties first. I will have further orders for you in a few hours."
There was a pause before Zaron continued. "We are off the record now, Darkthunder. I am curious about a few things, so I hope you don't mind if I talk to you from one archosaur to another."
The terrorclaw stopped working with his console and looked at the screen, mildly surprised. "Your request is unusual, sir."
"No ranks or titles, Darkthunder. Feel free to call me by my name."
"Yes... Zaron."
"You've been in command of the Tarrakhan for almost half a year. How has it felt so far?"
Darkthunder sighed.
"Not exactly what you expected, I gather," Zaron said before Darkthunder could say anything.
"That's one way to put it."
Zaron nodded. "It is to be expected. I have yet to find any commander wet behind the ear holes that didn't feel overwhelmed at first. Even I wondered if my place was in the Patrol after all. I am concerned about word I received along with news of your mission. It seems like you came very close to having your primal nature become lose. Is that true, Darkthunder?"
Darkthunder froze, except for his feathers, which rose again to stand completely erect. "Sir... uh... I--"
"Yes or no, please," Zaron said calmly.
"It... it is true, Zaron." Darkthunder lowered his snout in shame.
Zaron growled softly, then remained silent for several seconds. "It is not what I wished to hear, but I appreciate your honesty. If I may ask, what triggered it?"
"We had a rather... frustrating operation, Zaron. I tried to do the best, and keep my troops safe. Several of them... won't be coming home."
"And that displeases you?"
"Well... of course, sir. How else --?"
"May I remind you, Darkthunder, that this is the Archosaur Patrol. You signed for duty knowing very well there is a possibility you may end up dead in combat. It seems that, despite the savage nature of your species, you seem to hold a spot for every person in your ship."
"I guess you could say that, Zaron."
"Then please stop it. That sentiment won't take you far, Darkthunder, no matter how well your intentions may be. If it sounds callous, then so be it. But you are a soldier now, not a tutor in a hatchling academy. Your crew is aware of the possible consequences for their choice. What I am trying to say is, do your utmost to protect your crew, but prepare yourself for the worst. Is that clear?"
Darkthunder sighed softly and nodded. "Yes, Zaron. If I may be allowed a request, how did you know? Did Arokh --?"
"Yes," Zaron interrupted, "and a few others before him. You're becoming known among the High Command for your excellent performance as well as your furious temper."
The terrorclaw grimaced and bit his lower lip. "I don't intend to question your judgment, Zaron, but wouldn't had it been better if I had been assigned to a ship without so much expectations like the Dak-Tarrakhan?"
Zaron shook his head slightly. "I would not had given you the ship if I didn't really believe you weren't the right one, Darkthunder. And the Patrol has a great need of your services at the helm of the Tarrakhan. Even if your temper is getting on record, the general consensus among the High Command is that you are easily on a path to have the Tarrakhan exceed the achievements reached during Prion's tenure."
Darkthunder bowed slightly, then let some air escape rather nosily through his lips. "I guess I should give thanks for the honor, even if it is something that seems to be lost among some of the crew. I am already hearing that some complain I am an usurper that does not belong in Prion's place. A tyrant, even."
"Different mindsets. He was a plateback, you're a terrorclaw. Herbivore and carnivore. Please don't take it personally if you get transfer requests. Just send them to the proper channels. We will remind each saurian that they signed for life in the Patrol, not some cushy desk job."
Darkthunder nodded, then grew rather uneasy as Zaron stared at him through the screen with a strange look in his eyes. Something that seemed to him like a mixture between curiosity and prurience.
"I have a rather personal question for you," Zaron said quite calmly. "Have you had sex with some of your crew already?"
The terrorclaw's crest shot upwards. "Uh... sir, I believe that is rather personal."
"Please humor me. I'm just curious, for a reason."
"Well... nobody," Darkthunder stammered, embarrassed and mortified.
"Really? Surely by now, you should have already attracted your share of attention from many among your crew." He chuckled, a strange sound that reminded Darkthunder of one of the creatures in his homeworld. "If I were one who went after males, I would had put the moves on you already."
"Well, if anyone did have the intention, I probably scared them away already with my temper."
"You can only blame yourself for that. So if you have not bedded anyone, when was the time you last mated?"
"The night before I left my world to hunt among the stars. A female of my pack offered herself to me, as a parting gift."
Zaron's eyes went wide. "That was one heck of a long time ago! Don't you think you are way overdue for some carnal pleasures?"
"I've always put my duties to the Patrol ahead, Zaron."
"And it has done you well. Which brings me back to my first concern about you. I can sense you are getting somewhat close to burning up. We have big responsibilities, Darkthunder. But it cannot be all duty and no fun. Do yourself a favor, and find yourself a partner from your crew. At least someone you could have sexual relationships from time to time. It doesn't matter how you go about it, as long as it doesn't influence or affect your duties in any way, and you don't bang every crew member. And, if I'm correct, there has to be a male in your ship with which you could have your fun."
"What!?" the terrorclaw exclaimed. "Why would you infer which sex I would choose?"
"Pheromones. I've smelt you many times. I can sense with some accuracy which side of a bed my subordinates will choose."
"But... Zaron, I don't have... I mean, I.. um, do masturbate sometimes."
"A mate will do you better than a five-fingered hand job. Well, three fingers for you and I." The deathjaw stared at Darkthunder through the screen. "So you heard me. You have my permission. Hell, I can see you are naked already."
Darkthunder frowned, still miffed at having his superior meddle in his own sexual life. "With all due respect, sir, you are not the one terrorclaw in the whole Patrol. I can't imagine I would be able to do anything without having every move scrutinized by every single saurian I may try to know better."
"There are ways around that. Have you thought about using Overworld?"
The terrorclaw nodded. "We all have used it, sir. A simulation program during the days of the Academy."
"I'm not talking about the mode you are familiar with. Did you know the Patrol programmed several modifications and uses for it? It is an inside project, not supported by the original developers, so there are still a few rough spots in the code. But it is another tool at your disposal. You could go on a virtual hunt for prey while still in your ship, and have others join you as a kind of virtual pack. And with your terrorclaw nature, I'm sure you could use it."
Darkthunder looked around his console until he noticed the entry on his system program database he had not seen before.
"I took the liberty to upload it there, Darkthunder," Zaron continued. "It came to my attention the program was not there shortly after your departure. Prion must have removed it."
"That... would certainly be useful, Zaron," Darkthunder said, his interest slightly piqued. "I will look into it."
"Please do. Now, I believe I have taken enough of your time. Good hunting, soldier."
Darkthunder saluted, and logged off.
He sighed and slouched on his chair. As if he didn't have enough problems already, now he had a nosy deathjaw trying to find out about what he did in bed! He shook his head slightly, unable to keep himself from smiling slightly at the absurdity of it. Zaron certainly had some gall to be inquiring about such personal, and embarrassing, affairs.
And yet, the old saurian most surely had seen and heard it all. Zaron didn't seem to speak much out of prurience than concern and interest in the terrorclaw's own well-being. Darkthunder probably could do worse than ignore the deathjaw's meddling.
Then again, finding a mate was something easier said than done for the terrorclaw. He wished he could hunt his desires and lust as easily as he did the large herbivores back in his world.
Thoughts of the eyeridge returned to his mind. Darkthunder wondered if he was overstepping his bounds by trying to get closer to Arokh. The eyeridge had his own family, and certainly had no interest in looking elsewhere, even if it had been some time since Arokh had last mated his own partner.
Darkthunder had seen Arokh in the nude -- he paused to think -- only twice. He would had liked nothing more than for Arokh to have joined him for the run. The terrorclaw probably would had left his sentient mind mostly awake having such a comely male next to him. And surely to fire furtive glances at Arokh's large genitals flapping and bouncing with each step.
And then... who knows what could had happened. Perhaps Darkthunder would had offered himself to be mounted. The terrorclaw began to stroke his hardened member, slowly at first, as he envisioned the eyeridge dominating him, taking him hard and rough. The strokes became faster and more intense as Darkthunder whimpered, imagining himself being violated by such a handsome, strong male.
He came hard and long, shooting his load onto the floor. Panting, he made his way to his small bed on the floor. He would clean his mess after his sleep.
- * - * -
Grell hesitated, frozen in his tracks. The powerful, muscled legs that had effortlessly brought his large, muscled bulk within a few paces of the entrance to the sick bay now seemed almost unable to carry him the rest of the way.
It was not a place he ever liked, in sickness or in health. It was a place of continuation and healing as well as finality -- life as well as death. His own mortality was something he tried not to ponder if he could help it. His desire for strength and keeping himself fit was as much for intimidation as to postpone his eventual demise. But if his own mortality scared him somewhat, it was other saurians' mortality what always hurt him even more.
He had had enough of that already. Before and during his days with the Patrol, there were many friends that had left him behind. The armorback could not possibly know what lied beyond what his senses and conscious mind told him; those who had left could be in pain or in final, eternal bliss. Or they could had ceased to exist forever. Either way, the feeling in his heart and mind was the same.
He hated the thought of losing those close to him. But at the same time, his heart was tired of beating alone.
Grell breathed deep. The armorback walked quietly the last few steps as he steeled his soul for the words the medic could have for him.
The room was brightly illuminated, although the light did not seem to burn the eyes. Several beds lined the walls, all of them empty except for a large one, behind a thick tent-like curtain to shield the occupant from the light and provide some privacy, or to hide something. The sense of finality seemed to come again somewhat stronger. Even sound seemed to die in the room; the constant soft humming of the ship's engines was almost completely absent within the sick bay walls, replaced only by the soft beeps and pings of scores of medical equipment.
A lone fleetfoot divided his attention between a few monitors, swiftly moving between two banks of them and tapping into a tablet he held in his claws.
Grell could not help wonder a bit about fleetfoots as a species. They were rather peculiar among archosaurs, as the only terrestrial sentient species whose body still retained a good portion of their non-sentient ancestors' looks. It gave them a graceful, even comical look, and a personality to match.
The medic turned at the sound of naked claws on the floor.
"Ah, Grell! I don't get to see you here anymore." He smiled as he moved his neck and head in small jerking motions, as if taking a good look at him.
"Seeing you in the combat field is more than enough, Ty-Grich." He flexed his arms somewhat. "And I'm kept busy by my duties and my physical training."
The fleetfoot nodded. "Exercise is good. Though I have heard you favor some muscles and organs doing some activities."
Grell coughed nervously. "Something like that. But that is not why I came here for."
The fleetfoot nodded and said nothing else.
"How is he doing?"
"Critical, but stable."
"Stable? Does that mean, he will live?"
"Hopefully, yes. Let me show you something first." The fleetfoot moved towards the screens he had been monitoring. He touched two of them; one showed a complete picture of the groundthumper's body from a body scan conducted before the Tarrakhan departed the station, while the other displayed a shot of the head and neck. Grell grimaced as the scan faded to show Brakkus' injuries and he finally got a view of the intensive damage the laser had caused.
"Good Maia." The words almost choked on the armorback's throat.
The fleetfoot pointed at several areas of the image with his claws; he spoke rather matter-of-factly, as someone used to constantly seeing similar situations, and even worse. "As you can see, the energy beam hit Brakkus right in the area between his left eye and his crest. Fortunately for him, the beam came at precisely an angle that caused it to be mostly deflected by the armor in his helmet. The part of the beam that did manage to pierce the shielding was still intense enough to cause extensive damage to his flesh and muscles.
As the laser burned all the way to the bone, it pierced his breathing canal, causing blood to flow into his lungs. The beam also destroyed a small part of the skull, but apparently it missed the brain completely.
"It was the subsequent bleeding and fall what did most of the damage. He suffered a heavy loss of blood from the injury, and swelling of his brain from the concussions he suffered during his fall. I had to remove even more of his skull around the impact area in order to relieve the pressure in his brain."
Ty-Grich swiped his fingers over one of the monitors to display other internal views of Brakkus' body.
"He also has two broken ribs, a broken right femur and a dislocated left shoulder from his fall. I put his neck in a brace as well, as a precaution." He turned to look at the armorback. "He was very lucky. Had the energy beam hit at a slightly different angle -- well, let's just say there probably wouldn't had been much left above his neck."
Grell turned away from the screens, unwilling to see any more. "You would think that being a soldier would prepare me for this. I have seen death in the field. And yet --" He sighed.
"We can never be prepared when death strikes very close to us, Grell," Ty-Grich said almost emotionless. "Had things been different, you would not be the first soldier who mourns the passing of a comrade. More than one soldier has come to see an injured friend, only to find them gone. I never like being the bearer of bad news."
"You said Brakkus was lucky. Does it mean he will make a full recovery?"
The fleetfoot nodded. "Absolutely. And perhaps sooner than one would think normal. Science and medicine can do wonders by themselves, but ultimately the patient must be willing to fight. And I can sense that Brakkus doesn't want to give up yet. His recovery will not be painless, however. I contained the bleeding and get him prepped for skin grafts and reconstruction, but he will have to go to a station for it. Once he does, there will be some scars that we can treat with further surgery. I am not sure about his eye; his optical nerve may have been damaged. We need his brain fully functional before we can determine if we need to work on his eye. He will be able to resume his regular duties, although he will suffer from headaches at times, so I will have the Commander keep him away from combat duties until I can discharge him completely."
Grell sighed with some relief. "Can I see him?"
The fleetfoot nodded. "I kept a previous, well intended visitor away, but you two are so close that I will make an exception."
"That is strange. I never imagined somebody else would be dropping by. Brakkus and I don't know enough people that would take a strong liking to us, much less true friends."
"You would be surprised."
Grell noticed a small glass jar close to the bed. It was about two-thirds full with water, and a single stalk from a water plant dipped inside. There was only one soldier in the ship who kept those inside their room.
"What the hell was Kakkuttek doing here?"
"Paying his respects to a wounded soldier. After he asked about Brakkus, he said that he was praying for his river deity to help your friend recover. He walked out, but not before he left the plant as a symbol of his god."
The armorback frowned and snorted. "And why would he do that? What is it in for him to be after Brakkus' well-being?"
Grell reacted surprised as Ty-Grich fired a rather annoyed and accusatory look at him.
"And who are you to judge some other saurian's good intentions? Listen, Grell, I know you and Kakkuttek are at odds with each other. I'm certainly not in a position to pass judgment over whatever caused such a rift between either of you. But you have to understand that had it not been for the longjaw, who staunched the flow of blood until I got there, your friend would now be nothing but cold meat on a morgue slab."
The fleetfoot paused. "We all believed Brakkus was dead. I'm trying to forgive myself for failing my own oath as a medic and not check him out when I could had done so. Even you abandoned him when everyone rushed to fight the mammals."
Grell paused, unable to come up with a single word. He lowered his head slightly in shame. "Yes... you are right, Ty-Grich. I'll... apologize to Kakkuttek."
"Please do." The fleetfoot walked towards the covered bed. "Now, I have kept Brakkus awake so I could speak with him and make sure he's not suffering from serious neurological damage, but he's heavily sedated from all the pain killers. I doubt he's even aware that you are here right now. I will need him fully unconscious soon, so you'll have to be brief."
Grell nodded as he patted the medic's shoulder. "Thanks."
The fleetfoot slowly opened the curtain concealing the groundthumper's bed. Brakkus was nude, with only a blanket covering him from the waist down, as well as tubes attached to his lower body. Other wires and tubes were attached throughout his body, monitoring his signs and providing nourishment. Most of his head was bandaged, leaving only the right eye and all of his snout uncovered. An oxygen mask was outfitted over his heavily bandaged crest, along with more wires to monitor his brain activity. The affected limbs were also bandaged and covered by braces.
A special foam allowed him to lay on his back without the thick base of his tail getting in the way or being painfully uncomfortable. His only visible eye was closed as he rested.
"Hello, Brakkus," Grell said softly.
The groundthumper opened his eye halfway, and slowly turned it to look at Grell. "There you are..." he said softly and slowly, his words slightly slurred and hoarse, as he weakly forced a smile. "What took you... so long?"
"I'm sorry," Grell said, holding tightly onto Brakkus' right hand with his own right hand while gently caressing the groundthumper's chin with the other. "I still have duties to attend to, and a ship to fly."
"Yeah... sure." Brakkus closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He opened them again as he addressed Grell. "You're just... afraid of some... death and blood. Wimp."
Grell frowned slightly. "Well, yes. If the thought makes you happy."
Brakkus wheezed as he tried to laugh. "No worries... big boy. I don't like them... any more than you do. But... you are so much fun... to rile up."
"Keep at it and I'll do a better job messing you up than the mammals." Grell snorted, slightly annoyed.
Brakkus nodded as he tried to smile again. "Damn... are you grouchy today. Did the feather duster... bite your ass hard again? Don't... go blaming me... for it."
Grell held tightly onto Brakkus' right hand with both of his. He tried hard to keep his voice from breaking up. "I thought... I had lost you."
"So... the gruff and grouchy saurian... actually has some feelings for me. And here I thought... I was barely more... than a place for you... to park your meat."
Grell closed his eyes as he shook his head calmly. "You make me angry sometimes. But you know I do care for you. How many times I asked you to be my partner?"
"I don't know. You are the one... who seems to keep count... of everything. But I didn't want a partner. And... I still don't. I am happy... just being your bitch."
The armorback smiled slightly. "Get well, and you will be again."
"Really? Well... I hope you have... some way to cope with... in the meantime. I'm afraid... it will be some time... to have you in me again."
Grell wriggled the fingers of his right hand. "I can have that matter at hand, so to speak."
"You can do better... than that. Maybe the medic... will let me drink... some proteins."
Grell chuckled softly as he nuzzled his friend. "This is not the time to work that dirty brain of yours."
"Not easy... for someone like me. I wake up... having a tubes attached... to my dick. And there's something..." Brakkus grimaced from pain. "Something... almost as thick as you... inside my tailhole. This medic says it is... for me to empty my bodily wastes... but I think he's lying."
"Maybe it will help you keep that tailhole ready for me. Ty-Grich says you will recover."
"Will I...?" Brakkus breathed slowly for several seconds. "I guess it is hard... to see it that way... when I am feeling... like I am so close to death."
Grell began breathing deep and his heart pulsed faster. "Please don't talk that way. Don't you give up on me, you dumb groundthumper. Don't leave me alone."
"Don't worry... I intend to make those fucking aliens... pay very dearly... for what they did to me." A faint smile formed on his lips. "You know... all these years I fought... we've seen many of our own get killed... all the time knowing that the odds... could eventually catch up to us. What I didn't expect was... that I would end up... feeling like shit instead of dead." He tried to cough and vomit, but only managed a weird-sounding wheeze. "You won't believe... all the crap I've thrown up... food, blood... and I think some of your spunk I swallowed... that morning."
Grell continued caressing Brakkus' head. "I wish they had shot me instead. You didn't deserve this." He clenched his other hand in anger. "If only Darkthunder hadn't send us up that hill --"
Brakkus shook his head slightly. "No, no, no... Don't wish for my place, Grell... and don't blame Darkthunder... for what happened. He is somewhat impulsive... and full of anger... but it was not his fault. He didn't know." He grinned as much as his injured face allowed him. "And you need him as your friend... if you are to hump him. You can't be using... your hand all the time."
Grell closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to contain a soft laughter. "You are hopeless."
"That's why... you can't live without me."
Brakkus turned to look at the approaching fleetfoot carrying a syringe gun and closed his eyes. "Oh, Maia... not again."
The fleetfoot smiled as he pressed the gun against Brakkus' left shoulder and fired. The groundthumper grimaced slightly as the needle darted in and shot the drug inside.
"Millennia of archosaur technological progress," Brakkus said, "and they still... can't make a needle that won't hurt. And you've got me pumped... with more drugs and chemicals... than a laboratory. What's up with that, medic?" He groaned and growled softly. "Shit... my shoulder... is starting to feel on fire."
The fleetfoot held the gun upwards for a couple seconds before putting it away. "The drug I just injected will help some of your injuries heal faster. By itself, it would make you feel like your whole body is burning, as you've already begun to feel. So I'll have to place you in deep sleep for a few days until we reach Makran station for surgery." He began attaching another tube to Brakkus' oxygen mask.
"Makran? Oh, crap... Grell... for real?"
Grell nodded. "The ship has been ordered back for resupplies and system checks. We are going offline. For several days, according to what Darkthunder said."
Brakkus shook his head slightly. "Lousy time... I chose to get shot. The whole ship gets an extended shore leave... and I will miss every second of it."
The fleetfoot placed a claw on Grell's right forearm. "The anesthesia will take effect very soon. Please say your farewells."
"You heard the medic, long neck," Grell said to Brakkus while forcing a smile. "I guess I'll owe you that protein drink."
"It's all right... I'll be ready... to milk every drop out of you... when I return." Brakkus finally turned his head slightly to look at Grell. "Before you go... promise me something."
"Sure."
"If the feather duster and Arokh do it... you'll tell me the truth. Don't cheat me... out of my money."
He gasped, trying to force himself to say something else, but he uttered only a pitiful moan as his whole body went completely limp. Only his slow, calm breathing remained after he slipped peacefully into unconsciousness.
Grell gently propped Brakkus' head so it could rest better on the pillows, then stroke softly the bandages covering the burned flesh. "I promise. Sleep well, my friend."
The armorback watched the medic close the curtain, then walked away. He waited until he was far from the sick bay before he finally allowed his eyes to release the tears he had kept in check.
To be continued...
© Kaa Bakensobek