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[b][u][center]Galactic Enlightenment

Chapter 3: The Stars Beckon

For Txeptirea

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Once he’d downed more semen than he’d ever expected to pass his lips in a lifetime, let alone a half hour, Zephyr lowered his (friends? Captives? Power sources?) to the ground again. The conscious dragon continued to watch him, while the other flopped out limply, dead to the world around him.

He pulled his armored gloves back on as he walked to the other side of the cavern, trying to ignore the white eyes staring at him as he moved away. Einar – he’d only found out the dragon’s name when they touched minds – never seemed to blink, and despite the Mindgrip-nullifying gear the dragon was in, Zephyr constantly felt like the big black scale was waiting to take him down.

[i]Deal or no deal, I have to remember he’s dangerous,[/i] the soldier thought to himself. [i]Whatever he did to keep Geir from killing me…he still wants to get out of those things, and I’m the only one who can let him out.[/i]

It wasn’t a good situation to be in. Even with the bliss of the Mindgrip floating in the back of his head, even with the constant connection to the two dragons, the dragon eggs in the chamber, the universe at large, he was kept ‘sober’ by his problems. Alone on a hostile planet, with his only resources being the power he could drain from these two dragons, and a rescue incredibly unlikely to happen, considering that his drop-pod had already been recalled. He could be dead in hours, if any of the other dragon nests on the planet decided to check in here, and nobody would know or care.

[i]I beat Geir, though…[/i]

The memory of bouncing the gray-scaled dragon between floor and ceiling brought the slightest of smiles to his face, but it faded when he remembered how the second dragon hadn’t known he had any power. Any other dragon coming in would figure that out in a hurry, and then he’d be scale-meat.

No, he needed something…something to give him the advantage…

His armor creaked as he sat down in one of the egg circles, still doing his best to ignore the black dragon staring at him from the other side of the room. He closed his eyes and thought, asking himself the same questions he’d been trained to ask in the old mercenary group.

[i]What are my objectives?[/i]

To get off the planet, was one. To spread the idea of a universal Mindgrip was another. The Enlighteners had been the only ones to touch this…this bliss for centuries, hoarding this ability, never bothering to teach it to anyone. Perhaps they couldn’t, or perhaps they wouldn’t. In any case, this feeling of being linked to everything around him, of knowing them and being able to touch and affect them, was something everyone should know. It shouldn’t be a hidden power accessed only by a few.

[i]How do I achieve these objectives?[/i]

To get off-planet, he needed a ship. Zephyr doubted that a human like him could travel the stars the way that the dragons did. Even if he could, his armor was only good for a short time out of the atmosphere, no good for long trips. His other objective didn’t matter if he couldn’t get off-planet, so he had to solve that one first.

But how?

Sighing, he opened his eyes –

And almost fell over as he looked up to find Einar standing over him, staring down. Only sheer willpower kept him from screaming in surprise as he looked up into those white eyes.

“What –”

He stopped himself. The dragon hadn’t understood him that much when he spoke before. Better to keep it to the mental talking.

[i]What do you want?

I want to know what you’re doing. And I want this off.[/i]

The dragon gestured at the gear he wore, at the big, metal boots on his feet and the bracelets on his wrists, at the collar around his neck and…

Zephyr blushed slightly as he realized that their current position put the dragon’s cock almost perfectly at face level for him, and pulled himself to his feet. It still didn’t put him at the same height as the black dragon, but it was better than being face to dick. Even if it was a very nice dick.

[i]I can’t take it off down here.

You mean you won’t.

I mean that I…[/i]

How did he put this?

[i]I need to know that you aren’t going to kill me.

We made an agreement. That is all you need.

I need more than that. And besides…To get anywhere to actually use my knowledge for the dragons, we need to get off-planet.

This is a problem?

I can’t live in space. Even if you can, I need something like the ships of my kind.

Then look for one.[/i]

Zephyr blinked. Was…well, he supposed if the dragon was suggesting it, it was possible. The lifesense of the dragons was surprisingly strong, at the worst of times, and he’d just taken in a lot of the Mindgrip power from both of them. Maybe he could reach out and see if the mercenary ship was still in orbit.

He closed his eyes again, straining. It was…difficult, to put it mildly. Opening himself up to ‘look’ without using his eyes was a concept that he was still getting used to, and it came with the bigger problem of letting everything else around him in. He could feel the heartbeats of the unborn dragons, hear the sound of Einar’s suspicion, grasped at the dreams flitting through Geir’s unconscious mind.

And the further he spread the awareness, the worse it got. He heard the creaking growth of the few plants on the surface, felt the footsteps of the hundreds of animals that crossed the dusty surface, and even heard the wingbeats of other dragons on the other side of the planet. Everything, everything came to him in those moments, and what part that was Zephyr flailed and struggled to avoid drowning in it as it covered his mind.

Forcing his attention higher, Zephyr gasped as he mentally broke through the atmosphere. Even there, the ‘sounds’ of everything were deafening, but it was no longer killing him as the planet had been. He panted for breath, turning his mental senses left, right, up, down, looking for anything.

He ‘saw’ the trail of the [i]Icarus,[/i] the bigger ship that had brought him and all the other mercenaries to the planet. It had left the world behind hours ago, judging by the fuel trail left among the stars. Not what he wanted to see…

Before despair could come in, he felt something else. A different, lighter fuel trail, barely puffing around in the outer atmosphere. Zephyr turned his mind towards it, and followed it. It was…it was so easy, racing along the fumes…

And soon, he found the source. A small ship. A scout ship. Recon, for keeping an eye on the planet and reporting back to the Agglomeration if anything happened. Keeping an eye out for dragon responses, and…

[i]And a perfect craft for me…[/i]

He opened his eyes, smiling.

[i]I think I have a way out of this.

And a way out of my chains?

Perhaps. You will be equal to Geir again soon.

Good. It cannot be soon enough.

I just have to get up to that ship…how do you get into space?

…You don’t know?[/i]

Zephyr shook his head. As Einar smirked at him, he got the feeling that he wasn’t going to enjoy what was about to happen.

#

Two hours later, the other dragon was awake, and they were all out in the open again. The gray dragon complained constantly, and unlike with Einar, Geir couldn’t be shut up by detaching. He kept broadcasting his thoughts.

[i]I don’t understand why you need to do this. We can fly back and get the rest of the flight. You might command me, but you can’t command the rest of them. No human can. They’re too weak.

I beat you.

By cheating…I obey, flightmaster, but I don’t like it.[/i]

Flightmaster. It was an interesting title, he had to admit, and one that he might grow to enjoy as things went on. It had that sort of sound.

Still, there were other things that they had to deal with. Zephyr looked up towards the heavens. He couldn’t see the path of the scout ship from the surface, not without using the Mindgrip, but he had tracked the path of its orbit well enough. It would be passing over shortly, and they’d need to be there to catch it.

[i]Geir…are you sure you can launch me and Einar up there?

I’ve got enough strength for that. Are you sure your puny little body isn’t going to splatter as soon as you leave the planet, Flightmaster?

Just worry about launching me…[/i]

He was glad of the armor’s helmet. At least they couldn’t see him gulping in fear.

Einar’s explanation of how scales left the planets they attacked terrified him. He’d assumed that it was a slow, leisurely thing, the dragons flying up towards the outer atmosphere with their wings and then using their telekinesis for the rest of the trip. After all, the Mindgrip had seemed a relatively gentle power, when he’d used it.

Not so, in this case.

The black dragon stood beside him, wings curled tightly to his back, and Zephyr took several deep breaths to calm himself down.

[i]On three. One…two…[/i]

He barely projected the thought of the number three, rather than the word, before the impact hit. Like an explosion going off beneath his feet, Geir’s Mindgrip sent him rocketing towards the heavens, rushing upwards at speeds that his suit couldn’t even process, the numbers rolling over too fast to read as they shot towards the clouds, then past them.

The debris of the world beneath followed them halfway up, and he didn’t want to think about the damage that had been left behind. The craters of the invaded worlds were suddenly explained, and he shuddered.

Up, up, up they went, the suit pressurizing around him to maintain what air it had, and it suddenly felt much heavier than before. He ignored it as best he could, trying to focus on not panicking.

A glance sideways, showing Einar looking as calm as ever, didn’t help. How did dragons do this? How were they not terrified at being living rockets?

And then…

Everything went silent as they reached the outer layer of the atmosphere, where only the scantest bits of air remained before the void of outer space tried to suck it away. They floated, too far out to be pulled back in, too close to completely be launched away. They were right on the end of the planet’s grip…

And Zephyr was terrified.

He panted, squeezing his arms tightly around him and curling his legs to his chest. One wrong move, and he’d go spinning out into space with nothing to stop him. There was nothing to grab onto out here, nothing that he could even use the Mindgrip on to save himself. If he slipped, he’d be gone…and he’d die before he could get help. The suit wasn’t that good, and he’d die, and nobody would find him, and everything would go wrong, and –

Claws scraped on his armor, the shrill sound just barely carrying in the emptiness. It was like something muted, wrong. He turned.

Einar tapped his head, and he opened his mind.

[i]Kill yourself with fear later. I will not be left like this.

We’re in space! We’re gonna die if we do this wrong!

You have power. It’s more than just pushing and pulling.

We’re gonna –[/i]

The black dragon punched him.

It wasn’t much, not enough to damage the armor, and he only really felt the impact as pressure rather than anything else. But it was enough to shock him out of his hysteria.

[i]Why…

Geir would kill you if he saw you like that. Flightmasters do not panic. You fight. You survive. Act like that, and you’ll die.[/i]

And not just from rebellion, Zephyr realized. His hyperventilating had used up more than 70% of his oxygen, and it was getting worse. He slowly nodded, trying to pull himself down to a calmer place.

After all, he had plotted out the fuel trail accurately. The scout ship would be here soon, and all of them had an airlock for out-of-ship work during orbit. His company number wouldn’t have been scrubbed from the system yet, so they could get in without using the Mindgrip to damage the craft…

All they had to do was wait. Wait on the precipice of life and death, of planet and void…

Thankfully, the ship came into view before he could panic again. He saw the shimmer of sun on metal, and it was all he had to react to. Zephyr reached out, and was immediately snared by one of the scanning rods that hung from the bottom of the ship. Einar was dragged along behind him, holding onto his leg.

The speed, the speed of the orbiting craft! If it weren’t for the sheer strength of his armor, he would have been ripped apart, his arms hanging from the craft without him attached to it. The mechanized grip held by the strength of servos and cylinders, of engineered might, and he knew it. He didn’t dare use more, just in case a reader was onboard.

Bit by bit, he dragged himself up the rod, his heart beating in his chest as the winds of the universe buffeted him. Backwards, towards the engine, but just under it. The rocket burned brightly, flaring every few seconds to correct the craft’s course, and he could feel the slight worry of the scale behind him.

When he finally reached the airlock door and put in the code, Zephyr’s air was down to 2%. When they lunged through the opening and landed inside, and the airlock pressurized around them, it was at zero.

[i]We…we made…

It’s not over yet. Other Metal Ones.[/i]

Yes. Yes, of course. They wouldn’t be armored, but they would be trained.

As he pulled himself to his feet, Zephyr realized something else. He, at least, had the power of the Mindgrip. He had the opportunity to grab at something while he was in space, hopes of grabbing a passing asteroid or some other ship that came near him. Einar…

Einar had nothing. He had none of his powers, none of his tricks to reach out to people, or even do some dragon thing to reach out to the planet. If things had gone wrong, he would have been dead without any way of ever finding him.

[i]How…are you really that brave?

I am that desperate.[/i]

Zephyr slowly nodded, and reached for the inner airlock door. It opened at a touch, and they were in.

#

The ship was small, and so was the crew. One pilot, one soldier, and neither one of them had been in armor. He could have taken them out himself, if he’d wanted, and the only thing he would have worried about was how far off course the ship would have gotten in the meantime.

Watching Einar do it was something else.

They’d been spotted as soon as the airlock opened, and the soldier had pulled a pistol. Ever since the armoring of the interior of military vessels, even pilots had been allowed to go armed, and this was no exception.

Even as the bullets spanged of off his armor – too weak to actually penetrate – the black dragon had gone to work. Leaping from the hole, the great scaled beast ducked back and forth between shots, and lunged beneath the soldier’s weapon. Claws speared through the soldier’s chest, ripping through the mesh that he wore before he moved on.

Zephyr followed as best he could, but by the time he’d gotten his bulky self from the cargo hold through the central hallway and into the cockpit, the pilot had already been killed. Ten claw marks pressed in from all around the top of the head, and he shuddered at the thought of how much pain the pilot had been in before dying, his brain punctured from ten different angles at once.

He looked up as Einar stepped out of the cockpit.

[i]It’s yours. Now take us back.

In a moment. I have to make sure they have what we need.

To release me?[/i]

He didn’t answer. Making sure that the autopilot would continue while he worked, he walked back to the cargo hold, and started rooting around through the different bits of equipment that the recon team had been given. He knew they wouldn’t have much in the way of weaponry, but he knew they’d have a deep-space suit, and hopefully –

They did. In the back of one of the bigger lockers, they had more of the equipment that he’d put on Einar. Six full sets of the dragon Mindgrip-nullifiers, all arranged in discrete boxes so that even Einar wouldn’t guess what it was.

He shut it again, taking a deep breath. It was something, at least. A security that he didn’t have before, and one that he could use for people like Geir, who wouldn’t submit fully. But the best thing was at the very bottom of the locker.

It was little more than a remote, but he remembered exactly what it was from the briefing. Universally programmed for all of the different sets of nullifiers, it could turn them off, turn them on, engage a safeguard that would send a shock through the wearer’s entire nervous system...or completely detonate them. He remembered the officer telling them about it, warning them that it was better to destroy the dragon wearing it than to allow them to get away, and thus every piece was fitted with a shaped explosive that would get through even the dead hide of a dragon.

He picked it up with a shiver, making a note to never touch those buttons. Even if he was scared of them, he didn’t want the dragons did. He just...he just wanted to be safe, and to have them help him with the rest of the galaxy.

Einar growled in his ear, bringing him back to the present. He turned around, and - after a moment to remember which button did what - Zephyr pressed the button to deactivate the nullifiers.

[i]Moment of truth…[/i]

At first, there was nothing. No reaction, no change in Einar’s face. The dragon merely continued to growl, looking down at the remote…

And then, it hit him.

Zephyr threw his Mindgrip over the remote, and it was only the dragon’s weakened state that allowed him to protect it from the rending touch of the scale’s powers. He wrapped it up in his mind, holding it safe from the attacks that Einar threw at it.

[i]What are you doing!? Stop!

It controls me. I will not be a dim-scal again!

You’ll kill yourself![/i]

The attacks slowed, then stopped. It took him a moment, but he felt the wriggling touch of the dragon’s mind pushing at his. Zephyr opened himself up, not much, but a little, letting the memory of the briefing - and particularly the part about exploding - slide through their link. He even helped it along, giving his own thoughts, his own imaginings, of dragon heads exploding when their collars went kaboom.

It was enough, and Einar pulled back.

[i]I’m surprised.

At what?

I thought you wanted control. Instead, you were saving me. Unexpected.[/i]

It wasn’t entirely altruistic, admittedly. It was the only remote on the ship, and it wasn’t like he could get another one. At the same time, the last thing he wanted was to see his only allies get killed because of something that could have been avoided. Still, he took the credit, and held up the remote.

[i]This is...going to be strange for you, I know. But I will be honest. I can’t let you have your power back all the time.

...I remember the wording of the agreement. You did not agree to give it back at all times. This is true. But you also said that you would make me equal to Geir. What is the solution to this, human?

I will put Geir in the same gear you have. Until he can be trusted completely, he will be under the same restrictions are you are.[/i]

He felt a slight burst of smugness from the dragon, at that, but he supposed that was understandable. The pair of dragons hadn’t seemed to be as friendly as he imagined, and Einar had probably suffered some humiliation for being captured first. Equalizing that should go a long way towards winning the other dragon’s good will, and being honest…

Well, that certainly would avoid a problem in the future.

He put the remote back in the locker and closed it. It was little protection against someone with free Mindgrip powers, but he needed to extend trust sometime. He turned back to the black dragon, and waved for him to follow.

[i]I can’t believe I’m commanding a dragon…[/i] When he’d joined his old company, the mercenaries had accepted him because he had a few scientific skills to go along with shooting a gun. He hadn’t been a good soldier, and they’d made it very clear that no one would ever follow him into battle. He’d never expected to, and after the short time with the reader and the other members of the company, he’d been looking forward to leaving the group.

Now, though...well, he had a dragon on his side. Two, if he counted Geir. And they were willingly following him, now that he had proven himself.

Perhaps he wasn’t a commander...but perhaps he could be a leader.

Sitting down in the pilot’s seat, he put in a request for the ship computer to compile all the readings and recent logs from the company. As it processed it and started putting the information together, he turned to the dragon standing in the hallway.

[i]Will you trust me? To still follow our deal? I help your dragons, and they help me?

...I do not know if trust is the word we’d use. But we will do it, and see where it takes us. At least, I will. And that will be enough for you, with the other dragons.

The weak ones, you mean? The ones you mentioned?[/i]

Einar nodded.

[i]I know of four nests where they would be strong enough to fend your kind off, but weak enough to be defeated properly. They will submit in a more suitable way than Geir, and allow you their power. With that done...well, we shall see.[/i]

Indeed, they would. The computer beeped, presenting a map of the world below. Sixty spots glimmered with a different colored light, representing the different dragon nests that were on the planet. Not many, for a worldwide effort, but he supposed that they were hiding due to the vulnerability of raising a new generation. The system reported that each one had been hit by the company, but only three groups got out with anyone still living. Only one got out with an egg.

[i]Good luck finding out anything from that,[/i] he thought as he shook his head.

[i]Show me which of these we need to go to. I’ll mark them, and then we’ll pick up Geir.[/i]

As Einar started pointing out the appropriate nests, Zephyr couldn’t help but reach out a little with his mind, drawing his attention down to the dragon’s shaft again. The Mindgrip wrapped around it, squeezing it until it hardened properly. Even as the black dragon kept talking, it started dripping, and he started collecting.

After all...a little snack to replenish himself wouldn’t hurt…

#

Getting Geir into the proper gear had been a trick and a half, but with Einar to help him out, it was done. The gray dragon was ringed and booted, collared and manacled in short order. The sudden silence in Zephyr’s head was more than reward enough; he’d been getting sick of the other dragon’s complaints.

Then they were off, heading towards the first of the nests. Einar sat with him in the cockpit, while Geir sulked in the cargo hold. Through the flight, he kept reaching over with his mind, patting the dragon’s cock and keeping it hard, and every now and then, he felt a soft mental grunt as the dragon couldn’t quite hold back his pleasure.

He smiled to himself, even as he felt a little bit uncomfortable with what he was doing. Why did he have this need, now? His Mindgrip powers were as strong as they’d ever been, and he’d already refreshed himself with a new load during the trip from atmosphere to ground. He didn’t need more…

Yet he kept stroking, teasing that shaft, even reaching with telekinetic tendrils down the center of it, rubbing at the inner nerves. He kept teasing it, even going so far as to lift and lower the dragon’s balls, making the bounce as if he had a hand down there.

[i]Am...am I losing my mind, here?[/i]

It was a surprisingly clinical question for something that would have rather horrible implications. Admittedly, Zephyr hadn’t had all that much experience, and having this power over the dragons was intoxicating, to say the least. Despite that, he wasn’t tempted to order them to all fours, as he had seen some humans do with other humans, nor use them for his own satisfaction. He just...he just felt the urge to keep teasing them, to keep drawing from them, and by now, it wasn’t just for the power of the Mindgrip.

He pulled a hand off of his controls and adjusted himself, shaking his head. It was getting to him, and in a big way. Distraction; he needed a distraction.

[i]What kind of dragons will we find there? You said that they’re weaker; are they Star-Chasers, like you?

All dragons on this planet are Star-Chasers. We are the scouts; if the planet is inhabited, we go back, tell our flightmasters of what we’ve found. If it’s empty, and habitable, we send for eggs, and wait. We grow quickly, and when the eggs hatch, we bring them together under a small group, and the rest of us head out again.

And these...would they be the sort to stay behind?

Yes. They are the weakest of us...but stronger than your kind.[/i]

He nodded. So, they were going to be capturing the mommy and daddy of the group. Lovely.

[i]You seem...intensely interested in my shaft, human.

Sorry. I just…

You are not lacking power.

No, I...I just feel so...good. Playing with it, I mean.[/i]

He blushed a little, admitting it. Even keeping it to the occasional touch was difficult. He wanted to do more. He wanted...he wanted to pin the dragon to the wall, and milk that cock mercilessly. He wanted to work toys and invisible touches up the dragon’s hole to make him squirm and drool his cum. He wanted to suck him dry, and then -

Zephyr realized belatedly that all of those images were not staying in his head, and he closed off his mind. Not soon enough, he knew, but at least he could spare himself and the dragon further embarrassment.

The ship computer beeped at him.

[i]We’re here.[/i]

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]