---

Path of Redemption

Kaa Bakensobek

As bad as my Path had turned out to be, I thought there was not much left that could happen to fuck it up even more.

Archosaurs born onto the security that the Alliance provides were quite likely to be either ignorant or uncaring - or quite likely, both - to think of the most arduous Path that other archosaurs endure simply by existing, either voluntarily or through misfortune. Even if they could not remember much in the way of having parents - due to being born out of some tryst, or from those who just want to pass their genes, or born from a forced mating, they still had countless opportunities for a clear and prosperous path ahead. Those who have had the misfortune of threading a path outside the Alliance would most certainly agree that often that path is very hard and unforgiving. For even the greatest leaders of these underworld societies could find their opulence snuffed by a well-placed strike by the Archosaur Patrol. Such strikes, without fail, would take along many of their underlings. Or if lucky, find death to spare them of the ignominy.

I was not one of those lucky underlings. At least, not in the way I expected that path to end.

As was typical of most archosaurs born outside of the comforts and safety of being a citizen of the Alliance, I had a rough upbringing. I was born inside one of those worlds deep inside the region of the galaxy occupied by the Archosaur Alliance, yet one that existed outside its society and most laws. The only thing we had in common was the same language, the very same artificial construct that joined archosaur species into a society that still deemed to deny citizenship to those like myself who were born outside their worlds and laws. Whatever reasons there could be to explain how and why those places existed and even continue to do so, that was something for scholars to debate.

Even as I learned to learn the language from a society that was not to be my own, I became privy to the dealings of those who would be my blood parents. There is not much I can say about my parents; both fit the stereotypical armorback mold when it came to size, build, and even the spikes in our bodies. My father was rather gruff sounding with a dark brown skin, while my mother's skin was pale but equally deep and gruff voice. Both were a bit hot headed, so there were plenty of arguments and one-upmanship between them. Yet nothing that would not be settled with some intense and rough sex between them.

I was their only child. And sometimes my existence felt like an afterthought, that perhaps I was something they would eventually settle in having but perhaps not when it happened. They were always distant, providing only enough attention to keep me growing

My "education" and sorry excuse for childhood was learning their trade - that is, watching said parents handle seemingly unending shady deals with many other, equally shady adults. Many of those adults were not archosaurs, or even reptilian at all. Disagreements over those transactions were not uncommon, as each side tried not to be the one stuck on the losing end. And there were the times when those deals involved something more than whatever passed for goods or currency in my planet - substances that my parents would not share with me, or doing things that would take a few years for my body to reach the maturity to fully understand activities that said parents would engage with the clients. I was never included as part of any of those deals, but from the stares some of those clients gave me, it was quite clear that it was best for me to walk away to procure whatever items said clients were after, and leave my parents to handle those "transactions."

It would not be hard to imagine how my path would have continued, had I stuck around long enough to possibly inherit their "business". I grew bored and restless of being around my parents the longer I lived with them; once I became of sufficient age to make my own decisions, I left my home to make my own living in whatever that backwater world could offer me. I felt no loyalty to my parents - I considered them responsible for having had the insolence to conceive me, as my birth planet gave me almost no chances to walk a prosperous and lawful path.

Not long after setting out on my own, it became obvious that wandering the streets in that part of the world could come at a terrible cost. A lone person, even one who was a part of that seedy society as much as themselves, could be a tempting target, and end up robbed of everything, killed, or even captured and enslaved. It thus became imperative for me to find allies and mutual protectors, while also try not to attract undue attention to my situation.

My search eventually led me to cross paths with one gang of seven youngsters, not much older than I was at the time. Like other gangs, their makeup was made of various archosaur species, all born in that hellhole we called a planet. Resentment for those in the Alliance was a common bond in archosaurs like us, so there was always the need to find packs or herds to join for safety and survival. Theirs was a somewhat diverse group of species - a longcrest, a plateback, two snouthorns, one roundcrest, plus their leader, a greenish armorback not too dissimilar from myself, even, and clearly a few years my elder. I thought they could be an ideal group to join forces with.

I approached the armorback and, led by the foolish idea that I could be like my parents in having the controlling stake, I offered them a deal - I could provide resources for their group, if they in exchange would become the first members of a syndicate, under my guidance. The other armorback laughed; he began sizing up my body in what clearly was desire, and said I could join only as a subordinate, and under the condition I gave myself to him every time he wanted.

Slapping his hands away, I began to walk hurriedly away from them, then ran as fast as I could as the gang began pursuing me. Unfortunately, I did not get very far. One of them tackled me, and I hit the ground hard. Dizzy for a moment, I tried to fight them, but I was quickly overpowered. My screams for help went unanswered by any witnesses as the gang dragged me towards some broken and abandoned building, of which there were many in that town.

Life on that planet had already hardened my body and soul, but it still failed to prepare me for what happened next. Whatever innocence I still had left in my mind abandoned me that night. Deep inside the building, the two snoutcrests and the plateback subdued me, leaving me defenseless as the rest ripped my clothes to shreds. I watched in horror as the armorback lowered down his pants, exposing his hard dick, which he stroked for a few instants. He ordered two of the remaining lackeys to pry my snout open; almost instantly, he forced the length of his hard, disgusting member down my snout and throat.

I tried as hard as I could to escape from being violated, but my strength was no match for theirs. I gagged and coughed several times, trying to get that foul-smelling dick out, but the armorback held my head fast with both hands. Two long, painful minutes passed before he brought himself to climax inside my mouth, still holding tight as he forced me to swallow his vile liquid. He laughed loudly before pulling out. I spat some of it as I coughed and gasped for air.

Unfortunately, the horror would not end there. The other six had either partially or completely removed their clothes, also intent on following their leader on using my body whichever painful way they wanted. They had to wait, however, as the armorback forced me to lie down on the cold, dirty floor of that building and yanked my tail upwards, exposing my tail hole as another opening for him to force himself inside me.

My body tensed; my cries intensified as he penetrated deeper inside me. Tears flowing down my face, I pleaded and begged for any merciful body to come to my aid.

Nobody did.

Again, the armorback's climax did not bring the suffering to an end. One after the other, the rest of the gang continued abusing my tail hole, until every single one of them had forced their way inside my body. Only then they released their grip on me. I curled on the ground, sobbing as the room filled with endless laughter and hollers about what a worthless bitch I was. By then, I did not care if they had planned to kill me afterwards. It certainly seemed like a preferable outcome to whatever could come next. My mind must have somehow shut out the outside world, for some time passed before I noticed that the room was considerably dark, and the only sounds that I heard were my own sobs, along with the distant noises from other events happening elsewhere within my immediate surroundings. Slowly, I lifted my head to look around; the entire gang had left, and I was completely alone in the room.

I don't know how long I had been there, surrounded by the cold darkness, the sounds of the night, and the horrible smell of excrements, alcohol and drugs. Those smells, however, paled to the one on my own body after my horrible experience. I was completely naked; I felt some blood dribbling from numerous scratches from when I had tried to resist the assaults. But none of it was as hurtful as the soreness and oozing feeling under my tail. I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from that building as I could, but I was afraid to bump into the gang again no matter which way I used to get out. I found only pieces of my clothing as I looked around the room; the gang had stolen my money and everything else that I owned. I tried to get up, but had trouble keeping myself upright. I fell to my knees as a wave of nausea and despair flooded my senses. I gathered what was left of my clothing and slowly made my way out of the building as best as I could on wobbly legs, extremely fearful that anyone could see me - nothing screamed more like potential sex slave than someone who had already been subjected to the same disgrace.

Finding what appeared to be a safe and covered corner between some buildings, I sat on the cold, dirty ground and buried my face between my knees, sobbing for a long time until I had no more tears left to give. All around me I could hear the usual sounds of the night - insects, the wind, the rumbling and humming of distant vehicles. All occasionally punctuated by the voices of hurried conversations, and of drunk or happy revelers. And somewhere, some engaging in passionate carnal desires unlike the violation I had endured. But the loudest were the sounds that were not there; the gang's insults and grunts as they violated my body were singed themselves in my memory, never to leave me.

The morning sun arrived as I still sat on that corner, still unable to sleep. Shining through uncovered windows, the rays' warmth on my bare skin began to break the feelings of despair just as they warmed my skin. As darkness disappeared from my surroundings, the pain of the assault began to give way to anger and determination. Starting right then, there was no time to feel sorry about myself, but to build a stronger and callous armorback. Life as a lone individual was still an untenable goal for me. With so many risks, my only path was to joining a syndicate - this time, however, I swallowed my pride and started at the bottom.

I found a deathjaw named Skral, who quickly extended an offer to join his syndicate after I bumped into him inside a Tokari resort where I had gone for some relaxation - it was the only place in that planet where almost anyone could go and not worry about getting knifed on the back. The deathjaw seemed quite impressed with my build and it did not take long before I started making myself useful to the others in various ways. By then, I had learned to survive by stealing from progressively harder targets, so those were my first contracts. Simple at first, then larger targets. All led to my first murders, when I found myself surrounded during a botched robbery - a big, burly body like mine was not exactly built for stealth. Before long I found myself surrounded by three guards; with my own freedom and life at risk, I was left with no choice but to kill them instead.

Skral was upset about my failure, yet despite this he saw more potential in me. To change my appearance, I engaged in constant and intense workouts to develop my bulky body, and used drugs to finish what weights could not - that blasted karjra is very effective at building muscle yet also quite addictive, which I have yet to fully wean myself from using. And despite the attitude many had against body morphs, I used them to change my appearance slightly. Through it all, I developed a callous and indifferent attitude to help me cope with life.

After a great deal of effort, time, drugs, and pain from the knives and needles of those who morphed my skin, it finally paid off. My appearance inspired enough fear that I could even make some deathjaws shit their clothes in fear. That, if they ever saw me coming before I took out their lives in one of countless ways. Skral himself said he felt slightly threatened at my appearance, and could only imagine what it would have been had actual carnivores had fathered me.

I learned to bargain when I could, and to steal when it was more convenient. I learned to live like a predator, to pursue my targets... and when requested, to kill them. Far too many other sentients died under my hands; the rest suffered as much or more as I did on that horrible night. All for some good money, which allowed me to indulge in perverted fun, including many nights spent in pursuit of carnal desires. But I didn't care much for the rewards. I knew I would eventually end up like those whose brains I splattered, or broken bones, or raped - or sometimes all of those.

Such was the fate of that other armorback, after I eventually found him while he was soliciting the services of a young male longcrest. I waited until he was distracted molesting and then fucking the brains out of the young prostitute before I barged into the room, succeeding in capturing him. The whole incident seemed a bit comical, with the longcrest screaming at me for his lost income even if the sex had taken a non-consensual turn.

I dragged the armorback into an abandoned building, not unlike the one he and his gang had taken me years before, and subjected him to the same pain I had received that night. But unlike that night, I did not let him alone after the deed was done. After I made him aware of who I was, his death was anything but quick and painless.

Throughout it all, the syndicate was aware that the Alliance had established courts and other institutions in the planet, even if they appeared to be in no hurry to take full control of the planet. For all purposes, they already owned it, although they seemed open to the idea of allowing other groups to administer it, at least for some time. With more pressing needs and a clear offensive against other species elsewhere in their territory, the Alliance did not appear to have any interest in going after the numerous syndicates in that planet, or even in other worlds like my own.

We got complacent. And that is when I knew my path got really fucked up.

I steeled myself for death the moment I saw the Archosaur Patrol rush to invade our compound. Speculation and confusion ran wild during those first few moments. Maybe one of the goons of some crime lord we had dispatched found out we were responsible. Or someone was not thrilled at the deal we had made them take. Perhaps some merchant got tired of paying protection money. Perhaps one of our own felt he had to pay us back for some perceived slight. Not like any of those reasons would have made any difference.

The soldiers had the edge - they were better trained, better armored, and pouring out of every entrance and exit to the compound. As I saw many of my comrades fall, gravely wounded or killed, I knew we were fucked. Nevertheless, I fought back with everything I could give. Bullets flew from my two guns, and I reloaded almost just as fast as I shot them. Just because I thought my death would be a relief, it didn't mean that I would give up easily; much less to Patrol soldiers. If it was my day to go down, I would certainly take as many of those cursed soldiers if I could. One of them left an opening that I immediately took advantage of, letting a barrage of bullets onto the one spot in his long neck that did not seem to be armored. As he fell, he left even more of his body exposed; he was shot dead very soon after.

The crossfire continued for about a minute. I heard even more of my comrades scream as they got hit. It was clearly the end of the syndicate, and the day I would most certainly die. Closing my eyes for a brief instant, I recited a soft, quick plea.

Good Mother, I guess today is when I get called to Your presence. I lived as best as I could, and I beg for mercy so I can join Your hallowed pastures.

There was no time for more litanies. An explosion burst from behind a stack of drugs that were scheduled to be distributed that same day. I immediately sprang from my position to take cover behind some water tanks. My three remaining comrades were not as fast, and fell almost immediately, killed by enemy fire. As I caught my breath and reloaded, I noticed an eerie quietness. There were no screams, no sounds of shots being fired. I was likely the last one left standing of my syndicate.

And that's when he showed up.

The first thing I saw in the smoke was his frill, followed by the three horns on his head, the rest of his armored body, and the heavy rifle he was carrying.

Trihorns are larger than armorbacks, and this one was no exception. I could sense he was younger than me, and yet he was taller. In the shock of battle, he seemed even larger than any trihorn I had seen before.

His eyes locked on mine for a seemingly long instant. He was not a regular soldier. This one was most certainly their leader. I knew this one would be the one to kill me if I didn't take him down first. I turned to aim my guns at him, and began pressing the triggers.

Only a single shot was fired, but it did not come from either of my guns.

The pain came from what felt like a brutal explosion. Pieces of my right hand's armored glove hit my face as they took the brunt of the soldier's shot. Along with them, I smelled the metallic stench of blood. I gasped in horror at my hand. While all fingers were still in place, chunks of flesh were not. I felt the fingers go completely unresponsive as pain began to course through my arm and blood started flowing copiously from my hand, and I could not hold onto my gun.

I aimed my remaining gun as the soldier continued his advance.

Just like with my right hand, the left one also exploded with pain. I felt my knees and legs weaken as I stared at my injuries. The same feelings I felt during that sexual assault flooded my mind - a feeling of complete impotence, of life hurling impassable obstacles to my path.

"You mercenaries are all the same," the trihorn said in a calm voice. "Stupid and worthless."

Rage boiled in my mind as I stared at the soldier. For an instant I forgot my wounds and the blood I was losing. Left untreated, it would certainly cost my life. Not that I expected the outcome to be different, from the motionless bodies I saw on the compound's floor.

"Kill me, you dickless bitch!" I shouted. "You mammal-smelling shits already took down my team! And I killed the turd behind you. Finish it!"

The trihorn lowered his gun slightly, even if he still aimed it at me. "We needed some of you alive. Sadly, it appears like you will be the only one who gets chosen for the job."

Desperation and confusion began to mix with the rage already coursing through my mind. I had accepted death by an enemy as the only way I would lose my freedom. I tensed my muscles as I lifted my torso as high as I could, trying to appear more intimidating. "Kill me! Because otherwise, I swear to Maia, you will die from my hands!"

"I would say your hands are not capable of much right now."

I let a loud roar and launched myself against the soldier. I closed my eyes, not caring if I hit him or not. At any instant, I expected a piercing pain between my eyes before it would all end in nothingness.

The only sharp pain came from a blow to my head, most certainly from the soldier's rifle. The hit broke my attack and I fell to the sandy, grimy ground of the compound, with a horrible headache to accompany the pain in my hands.

The trihorn scoffed with scorn before kicking me hard in the stomach. "Just like the deathjaw. I guess wounds teach nothing to these fucking sorry excuse for archosaurs. You're almost as worthless as those despicable mammals."

Two more soldiers descended on me as I tried to recover from the hit. I growled and bellowed in rage as my arms were forcefully twisted behind my back. Both soldiers then ripped my clothes and armor before muzzling me. They bandaged my wounds even as I continued to struggle.

"Report, Jasian," the trihorn said. He waited patiently as whomever he had hailed talked to him before he continued. "Excellent. Have our wounded on the first shuttle back to the ship, and request they send word to Patrol Command to notify Sanrak's and Daren's relatives of their passing. We need their bodies prepared to be returned with full honors. Tell the Commander that unfortunately most of the scum here either fought to the death or were not present. We're going to need more raids."

He pointed at me as he turned towards the other soldiers. "Take this piece of shit to a shuttle along with any other prisoners and have them ready for the magistrates as soon as possible." The trihorn lifted my head as he grabbed one of the side horns on my left. "And I will be there for your sentencing. You can thank me later for what the judge will plan for you."

He kicked my head just as it hit the ground, then walked away.

My rage continued as I struggled against my bonds and the soldiers as they lifted my body and tried to get me to walk away, hoping that one of them would have enough of my futile resistance and just end it all with a shot between my eyes. Unfortunately for me, Patrol soldiers will try their utmost to carry out the orders they have been given. The shot came not as a bullet, but as a thick needle pressed against my neck. The effects of the sedative kicked in very soon after, when the world around me dissolved into a convoluted mess as my dazed mind could not form any coherent thought whatsoever.

Once again, the life that I had known was completely obliterated, leaving me with absolutely nothing - not even the clothes I had been wearing. And this time, it looked like there would not be a quick recovery, if any would come at all.

***

It was a strange thought to have, to think of the contrasts between what I had known, and what I was seeing right in front of my eyes. Gone were the grunginess and smells from the syndicate's barracks; they had given way to nearly pristine and odorless halls of the Patrol buildings and jails. The dry, hot air of the city gave way to a more temperate, conditioned air. Perfect contrast from my former towering and arrogant walk as a mercenary; I was now reduced to whatever little movement the Patrol had seen fit to allow me. My arms were cuffed behind my back along with strong straps over my chest and the rest of my arms, as well as shackled feet. I could only trudge my naked body with slow, laborious steps that served as much as humiliation as means to prevent my escape. About the only thing I could be grateful was for my hands; still wrapped in some bandages, they had healed almost completely after the Patrol medics had tended to my wounds.

Days had passed at that point. Transported in an Archosaur patrol shuttle, I was taken somewhere else in the planet, and into a building that apparently served as both a temporary prison and a court. In all that time, I was not given a single strand of clothing to wear, even if the bindings had been removed for some time. Which would have been a good opportunity to attack them in hopes I would be killed, but the soldiers would not grant me such release - the cowards fired darts with powerful sedatives at me, as some would do to some feral beasts.

I kept silent even as the cursed trihorn walked ahead of me, pulling on my leash as he commanded me to walk. An angry look was my only recourse against him; the Patrol had no qualms about using physical force or electric prods to coax me into submission.

Passing doors and other hallways until eventually reaching a small courtroom presided by some mature-looking longcrest. The best I could say about his skin coloring was how much it reminded me of my own vomit after one of many nights at my syndicate were some of us had gotten a bit too much booze and meals. I stood motionless as he looked at a large, holographic panel, apparently reviewing several points on what most certainly was a dossier for my case.

Just as the trihorn officer had said, he was there for the sentencing. I was ordered to stand in the middle of the court, my nude body visible for everyone to gaze at. The size of my genitals had made many in the syndicate either jealous or nervous; I hoped they had the same effect on the soldiers around me, but if so, none of them ever showed anything other than disdain for what they likely considered a worthless criminal.

Same for the longcrest. The judge barely turned this head to look at me as he finally spoke; his voice was clearly bereft of anything but contempt.

"You, armorback who calls himself Grell. You stand accused of murder, rape, and aiding and abetting numerous criminal activities against the Alliance, including the death of one of the Alliance's soldiers. The Patrol has voiced their request that I sentence you with no possibility of an appeal. As per the Alliance's penal code, I concur with said request. I hereby order your immediate transfer to the Ughran prison. Sentence is to begin immediately." He turned towards the soldiers. "Take him away."

I was dumbfounded as the soldiers began to pull at the cords as they tried to haul me away from the court. "Wait! Don't I get a right to have my voice heard? What kind of sham court is this?" I turned my enraged eyes at the trihorn as I screamed as loud as I could. "This is your doing, isn't it, you fucking, short-dicked bastard!? A curse on you! I hope someone rips your tail hole open with -!!"

The longcrest slammed his fist on the desk several times to bring order in the room before he yelled, clearly upset. "We have already wasted time and effort bringing you to this court, which is hardly befitting of lowly, dishonorable criminals like you. Why should we waste even more resources on an appeal and trial when the outcome would not be any different? If there had been even a shred of a possibility of you being innocent, I would understand. But the Patrol found you in your lair, you fought the soldiers and even killed one of them. How could you be anything but guilty!"

I dug my feet on the ground, resisting the best efforts of the soldiers trying to drag me away. My eyes locked on the judge as I vented my outrage. "Is this the kind of justice that you Alliance scum proclaim to uphold? This is not justice! This is a fraud, and so are you!"

"And who in Maia's hallowed Path of Life are you to seek justice?" The judge's eyes were wide open in rage as he shouted back. "Justice is only for those who live by the tenets of the Alliance, and obviously you have not! Criminals like you are nothing but garbage! Garbage that I will dutifully put away in the dumpster where it belongs! And hopefully forever!" He motioned to the soldiers to haul me away. "Get this pathetic thing out of here! I have many other cases to preside." He turned to stare at the trihorn. "And I'll ask you yet again, sergeant, that you please make sure these criminals get washed before you bring them to my court! Their stench is unbearable!"

The trihorn tugged at the leash attached to my harness as he dragged me forcefully so I would follow him. "You heard the judge. Stop with your rebellious shit. The sooner you accept your fate, the sooner you'll finish your sentence."

I walked behind him as he continued pulling on the leash. Whatever was left of my strength and resolve were directed towards keeping me from succumbing to an overwhelming feeling of grief and despair. It was quite clear my efforts were quite futile.

"Where are you taking me?" I said in a mellow voice, staring at the clean floor as I walked. "Where is this Ughran place that you're sending me to?"

"I guess you have never heard of it?"

Even as I shook my head, I knew the answer would not be pleasant. "Should I? Clearly no one who may have been sent there from this world has ever returned."

The trihorn pushed my chin up to look straight into my eyes. "I will keep it simple so you can understand. Ughran is the largest moon around a red gas giant. The moon is much bigger than this planet, even, and unusually rich in resources, which makes it a very valuable world for the Alliance."

The bastard trihorn surely anticipated my thinking, because his face changed as I tried to process what he had said.

"I have handled enough criminals like you to know they all eventually form some ridiculous plan to escape, so I will advise you right now to get any ideas out of your skull. Ughran, like other moons and planets of its kind, is very heavily guarded, both to keep prisoners in and to keep invaders out. If that's not enough for you, the atmosphere is highly toxic, since there is no life around to renew it. While the moon orbits far enough from the gas giant to avoid being destroyed by gravitational forces, it is still close enough to receive lethal doses of radiation from its parent planet to kill any archosaur not wearing sufficient protection against it. Plus, the planet is also too far from its star to receive any heat, so almost all its surface is covered in an almost impenetrable layer of ice several kilopaces thick."

"So, my choices will be to asphyxiate, freeze to death, or get radiation poisoning. Charming," I added in sarcasm. "What will I be doing, then?"

"From how strong your body looks, I would say the hardest labor - mining ores from which the Alliance builds our ships, buildings, and many devices. The prison is underground, and well insulated from the exterior forces, so you won't have to worry about dying from them. The moon's core is very much active, so it will be quite hot where you will be working - you may prefer to wear nothing other than the required safety gear. You will have to get used to work in the higher gravity, which I imagine will be rather unpleasant for a large, heavy archosaur like you."

I grimaced at the thought of doing labor under such conditions; I felt my heart beat faster as another thought crossed my mind. "The judge did not specify a length for my sentence."

The trihorn paused for a few seconds as we continued walking. "Nobody goes to Ughran for a short stay. Your sentence will last until someone decides you have served long enough." The trihorn paused. "For someone with your background - well, I don't see them letting you go free before fifty years. At least."

I lowered my head and shut my eyes tightly in despair. Only the sound of our footsteps and my bindings resonated through the aisle. "Still a big chunk for someone who may live well over a hundred."

"If it's any consolation, you will have your own private cell. The Alliance has a strong interest in keeping the workforce well fed and active, even if they are prisoners. Your cell will be equipped with options for entertainment, and you will have access to equipment to keep that huge body of yours in shape. And there will be other prisoners whose sentence is to serve as whores for the miners - mostly mammals, although some archosaurs may also be sent there. So don't even think of forcing yourself on any of the other miners. That would only make your sentence worse."

An overwhelming sense of dread washed over me, and I lowed softly as my eyes welled with tears. "I don't care if you're trying to make it sound less horrible. It's still not freedom." I turned to look at the trihorn, his face emotionless. Sadness turned to anger. "You knew this. You knew about this infernal place! That's why you didn't kill me!"

A satisfactory smirk etched in the trihorn's snout. "I said we needed some of you alive, didn't I? It wouldn't be in the Alliance's best interests to kill every piece of scum that we get to fight."

Even when I knew the effort would be futile, I tried to lunge forward and against the trihorn. The other soldiers quickly pulled on the other straps attached to my harness, and I felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against my neck. I turned to look at the soldier. "Go ahead! Shoot me, you miserable fucker! Shoot or I'll kill all of you!"

My threats were met not with a bullet, but the shock from an electric prod that grew in intensity until I fell to my knees in pain. I growled and roared with anger; more out of frustration that the soldiers would not grant me the death I was so desperately longing for. A hand grabbed my chin and held tightly, and I stared straight into the trihorn's stern eyes.

"You brought this onto yourself, Grell. Death would have been an easy way out. It is now time for you to do something productive for the Alliance. Do as you are told, and once you finish your sentence, you'll have a good chance to become a lawful citizen."

I returned the angry look as I stared back. "Of course. Someone will have to replace the hole you will leave when another mercenary fires the shots that I missed."

The trihorn scoffed as he continued holding my horn, forcing me to walk. He almost spat his next words, as if tired of dealing with the current situation in his hands. "I've grown weary of hunting pathetic mercenaries like you. It won't be long before I get to transfer out of this dung heap and into the front lines to fight against that pitiful mammal scum that have been poisoning our people with their drugs. And eventually join those purging their existence from all the hundreds of star systems that they still control."

The trihorn opened a door, and I found myself staring at a shuttle - clearly the one that would take us to the ship headed for the prison world. The hull had no windows except for those needed by its pilots. Two other prisoners, also unclothed, stood near its entrance. I only had enough time to notice that they were two snoutcrests before they were hastily whisked inside the craft.

"Time for your retirement trip. Have a good stay."

The other soldier took my leash. He pulled at the cord, and I started walking after him.

I narrowed my eyes as I turned to look at the trihorn with outmost hatred. "Beg Maia that I die inside that prison, trihorn. Because if those mammals don't make you their bitch, sure as I am still breathing, I will."

I gritted my teeth, breathing hard as I spoke the last few words. The sergeant paused as he stared back, very likely pondering if I would be indeed capable of carrying out my threat. For the first time since we crossed paths, I had seemingly broken his resolve, even if only slightly. The trihorn sneered as he waved a hand to dismiss my threat as an empty gesture before turning to walk back inside the building, leaving the other two soldiers to haul my naked and bound self to the shuttle.

The hum of the shuttle's engines grew louder as I approached. Following the soldiers' gestures, I pushed my large frame inside. Finding an empty seat large enough for my frame, I waited patiently as one of the soldiers fastened the straps to keep me tied to the seat for the entire journey. I closed my eyes as he walked outside the shuttle, sighing with resignation as I tried to imagine what kind of path I was now destined to walk through.

"By the first Egg! Grell?!"

My head shot upwards at the sound of the voice. I turned towards its source, and I saw them - Gannek and Surreyk, two male snoutcrest siblings who were also from my syndicate. They, however, did not go out in missions. It was well known among our group that the brothers were sadly the product of an unfortunate inbreeding, which caused them to be born with some intellectual deficiencies. Skral, our leader, had taken pity of them after he caught them trying to steal some provisions, and kept them safe within our compound. Skral assigned them to run many of the internal tasks that to keep the compound clean and pleasant to use, as well as handling non-critical communications and transactions. Both brothers were quite capable of the tasks given to them and perform them under stress, even if needed a bit of help at first to comprehend how to execute them.

And there was the matter of the personal tasks that Skral asked of them. Rather frequently, either brother would get called for a private meeting in our leader's personal quarters. Sometimes both brothers would be in at the same time. It would go unsaid among the rest of my team what the brothers did during those private moments; while Skral had seen it fit that while the brothers were always well armed and trained in using weapons, the snoutcrests always went about fulfilling their duties while wearing little otherwise. And as tempting and desirable as their bodies looked, Skral had made it clear that no one else in the syndicate was allowed to solicit them for any type of sexual favors.

"How many morphed armorbacks do you know?" I said sarcastically, only to fill guilty afterwards at my words.

"Good Maia!" Gannek said with a subtle smile. "It's so good to see you made it!"

"Sure. Alive yet now a prisoner of this fucking Alliance. Where is Skral?" I asked, although I already had a feeling what their answer would be. If anyone else were to escape, it would have been the tough deathjaw.

Gannek's voice broke as he tried to speak. "He... didn't make it. We were in his office, unarmed... when it happened. He... tried to protect us... but a big soldier... shot him on the legs. Many times. Skral tried to stand up and fight, and still managed to lunge fiercely at the soldier. The soldier... he shot him... many times... in his head." The snoutcrest wept, visibly shocked at what he had witnessed.

I nodded as I turned to look away, shocked at the news. I owed my life to Skral in many ways. He pulled me from the tough life on the streets, and gave me a place where I could be safe from rival gangs and bounty hunters. We were rather close. I was one of the few mercenaries under him that he could trust with the biggest heists and kills. I tried to imagine who that soldier could be, but somehow, I could only think of a specific one. Now even more I wanted to fulfill the threat I had voiced minutes earlier.

"At least they spared us," Surreyk said, looking at me and then his brother. "Though those soldiers seemed to treat us like garbage. We're in for a very tough life. They're sending us to a mine!"

"Yes," Gannek said with a concerned look. "Neither Surreyk nor I are strong enough for such work. What do they plan us to do?"

"Uhh... I don't know. Maybe they will have you do some housekeeping tasks for the staff there." Even as I recalled the trihorn's description of the prison, I preferred not to say what I knew. They may have been Skral's personal whores, but the burly deathjaw had always used and treated them with respect. The thought of large, tough miners forcing themselves on the brothers filled me with anguish.

While I felt a slight consolation that they had not been mercilessly used for target practice, their fate would be anything but calm and peaceful. Perhaps I could be there for them inside the prison, and solicit their presence in my cell but without the intention to use them, so they could have at least some times away from the other miners.

Staring at the floor, I began to ruminate on the path ahead of me. All my battles, all my efforts - it all had led to become a convict for an Alliance that seemed indifferent to the fates of other archosaurs who had the misfortune of being born in so-called "free worlds," outside its jurisdiction. I could not help but resent the irony of it; of an Alliance that would wage war to claim worlds from races they considered enemies, but seemed reluctant to straighten up its own neglected, "illegitimate" children in its own backyard, for whom it offered no path to join and become productive citizens. Unless it needed them for hard labor, that is.

In my mind's eye, I tried to imagine how the next years of my life could transpire. The noise, the heat, the heavy workloads, the realization that I would never see another starry night or blue sky for many years - outside of any video screen, that is. And yet, a strange realization came to me. Would life in Ughran turn out to be a better path? My freedom had ended, yes, but so did a path that, had I been given a choice, I would have never stepped in. There would be no more fighting for survival. No constant watching over my back. Not being asked by a crime lord to end yet another life that had dealt him a bad deal.

I turned towards the shuttle's entrance as seven other prisoners were led inside the shuttle who clearly seemed intent on continuing their struggle against the soldiers even if they were naked and shackled just like I was. I recognized them all as part of the Skirggan gang. One of our fiercest rivals, their group was made exclusively of eyeridges, and had a very elitist attitude towards archosaurs of other species. I had personally fought others of their group several times in the past. Perhaps captured in another phase of the same raid, they were also naked prisoners like me and my comrades. I did not care what the trihorn had told me about not abusing other prisoners. They made a wrong move at me or the snoutcrest brothers in the prison, and I would make sure they would end with broken bones in addition to heavily bruised tail holes.

"This is not the deal we had!" one of them voiced in rage, among other words and expletives. A young plateback soldier forcefully pushed him into a seat and began to strap him securely. The Skirggan trashed as he continued fighting, and eventually noticed my presence - apparently recognized me from my markings, and stared in anger which only served to enrage him more. "You got the ones you were looking for!"

"Very much so," the plateback said before he punched the eyeridge hard in the snout. "And we got a few other workers for our mines in the process. Now shut the fuck up! The judge said nothing about you arriving at your destination uninjured." He turned towards the soldiers standing outside with other prisoners. "Get the rest of the garbage in! We're running late, and the ship will not wait forever."

"Never thought I would agree with a soldier from the Patrol," I said. The eyeridge turned to glare at me, seething with anger.

The plateback snorted. "If I want you to speak, I will ask you to do so. Do you understand?"

"Whatever you say," I said and shrugged as best as I could with the shackles and the straps. "Still, do you have some mild sedative you could give me? I could use some sleep, and the air inside here is already reeking with the stench of some in here," I said while directing my sight to the belligerent Skirggan.

The soldier nodded slightly as he looked for a vial in one of the pockets of his armor. "You are not exactly smelling well yourself. We've been asked not to sedate the prisoners unless they become rowdy, but I'll drug you if it means a quieter time piloting this shuttle."

"You will get no problems with me, in any case. You're a pilot too?"

The plateback paused to look at me before he put the vial inside a small gun, seemingly curious. "Only for these shuttles. Why do you ask? Did you do as well?"

"Yes." I grimaced slightly as the needle pierced my skin. "Well, used to, obviously. Whenever the head of my syndicate needed to go someplace, he almost always would not look beyond me to be his pilot. My skills saved his hide more times than he cared to admit."

The plateback seemed partly dismissive of my words, but I thought it was mostly because of how I was earning a living rather than mocking my skills. He waved his right arm in a small arc to direct my gaze at the instruments at the front of the shuttle. "I doubt any craft or any situation you handled was like anything you would find in the Patrol. Though I guess that doesn't matter to you. You like the feeling of being in the air, and in control."

"Indeed," I said, already feeling down about yet another freedom that was taken away from me.

The pilot tightened the harness that held me to the seat. "Stay strapped. It may a bit bumpy getting out of here. We can never tell with others of your fellow mercenaries still out there." He motioned for one soldier to step inside and occupy a seat to the right and behind his large console. Outside, the ground crew closed and locked the door as I felt the shuttle's engines come to life. A few heartbeats later, the unmistakable feel of motion washed over my body as the shuttle took off in yet another step towards that dreadful life inside my eventual prison.

Closing my eyes, I leaned back on the seat as best as I could to try to get some sleep.

* * *

I had no idea how much time had passed, but a sudden jolt shattered my sleep. Behind me, I heard the two snoutcrest brothers scream in fear as the shuttle continued moving erratically. I tried to focus my groggy mind and eyes on my surroundings, and what seemed like three of the Skirggans up from their seats, wrestling with the armed soldier.

Somehow, they had apparently managed to get free of their bindings, and now struggled mightily against the single soldier with a weapon, desperate to take it away from him. A couple of paces away, the pilot tried desperately to maneuver the shuttle to throw the Skirggans off their feet.

The maneuvers proved futile, as the prisoners were eventually able to overcome the soldier and immediately shot him, apparently with fatal results. The pilot pulled a pistol from the holster in his right leg. He aimed the gun at the attacker to his right, and in doing so he lost sight of the female to his left, who did not pause for a heartbeat to aim and fire at the pilot. The plateback spasmed for an instant and began to slump towards the floor as blood splattered on the console and the windshield. Even as he fell, he managed to touch a section of his console; the shuttle's movements quickly stabilized, and the ship continued flying in an apparent steady motion even as it banked slightly to the right, following some programmed course.

Even as I felt sorrow and anger to see a fellow pilot fall, my mind was filled with sheer dread at how the confrontation had taken a turn for the absolute worse. The snoutcrest brothers screamed again in terror, aware of what had happened as well. The belligerent eyeridge, still strapped into his seat, also screamed, but in rage towards his comrade.

"You worthless whore! You just shot the pilot!"

"Better him go than any of us, Kex!" she screamed back.

"But who's going to fly this thing!? You!?"

All the other Skirggans gasped as they suddenly realized their predicament. I thought I already had the utmost contempt against their syndicate when we were rivals. I never thought that feeling could get even higher as I glared at the lot of them.

"What good was him for, anyway?" the female said. "The shuttle seems to be flying on its own just fine!"

"For now, you moron! But then what? Either it will continue flying and land automatically inside a Patrol base, or it will continue flying until it runs out of fuel, or the Patrol shoots us out of the sky when they fail to hail the crew. In any case, we will all die!"

I had made my peace that one day I surely would have died at the hands of a rival syndicate; it could have been a Skirggan who fired the fatal shot. It could have been even some lowly thief who somehow could have been dealt a very lucky draw of fate. At that moment, however, I only felt burning anger and resolve to do as much as Maia could let me try to change the situation that the eyeridge had caused.

"Hey, you Skirggans!" I shouted as I struggled against my bonds. Despite my rage, I tried not to voice any insults that would direct their anger and frustration towards me or the snoutcrests. "Release me!"

"Fuck you, armorback!" the belligerent Skirggan said as one of his lackeys began to release his bonds. "You are not leaving that seat! If anyone else needs to die today it should be you!"

"Threaten all you want! Is there anyone in your little group with the skills to pilot a shuttle?"

The eyeridge glared at me with intense hatred. We were obviously from rival syndicates and would not hesitate to kill our opponents. And yet I could not feel that his hatred towards me was more personal. "Like you ever placed your leaf-ridden, dirty hands on a Patrol ship! You don't know shit about how to fly this thing! And I'm sure you bluffed to get in good graces with that now steaming carcass."

"Call it a bluff if you'd like. But if I am not, and unless you can think of anyone else capable of steering this ship, you better be sure you will join the next hunting grounds, because your path in this one is about to end soon."

The eyeridge stared at me, most likely wanting to make me his last meal. I felt his resolve starting to fade as he contemplated the situation, yet seemingly unwilling to cede any of his misbegotten authority to anyone from a rival group.

"He may be right, Kex," said another eyeridge still tied to her seat. I had no idea who she was, but she seemed more concerned about her own hide than thinking against someone from a rival gang taking over the pilot's position.

"All right... all right!" Kex said. He pointed at the female and the other two attackers, who still held onto the weapon taken from the now dead soldier. "You two release him, but keep that gun and teeth ready. Make sure he does not try anything!"

I sighed with relief as I felt my arms free after days of wearing shackles without any break. I rubbed my wrists slightly as I got on my feet, while the eyeridges aimed their guns at me.

"Grell," Gannek began to say.

"Don't worry," I said as I glanced at him briefly. "I will get you and Surreyk down safely." I tried not to imagine what the Skirggans could do once we landed. Provided I could get the shuttle down in the first place, but I had to place all thoughts and doubts into the very back of my mind.

I unbuckled the pilot, still held to the seat by the seat belts. To my surprise, I could feel some labored breathing. The pilot was still alive, but clearly in pain. I set him as gently as I could on the floor to the left of the seat; he turned to look at me as I spoke to him. "I will get you down safely, comrade. Please try to hold on."

A sudden wave of panic flooded my mind panicked as I looked at the console. The entire instrumentation panel was like nothing I had seen before, with controls set up in a completely different fashion to any other craft I had handled before. Every single parameter in the control interface was handled by touch. Despite this, I was still able to identify a good number of the controls I needed to fly the shuttle in a hopefully controllable manner. As much as I hated my parents for their neglect while raising me, I was at least thankful they had insisted that I learn the written common language of the Alliance.

My confidence proved short lived. No matter how much I tried to adjust any of the controls, none of them seemed to respond to my touch. I tried not to let panic overcome me, or to let any of it show in my face, lest the trigger-happy Skirggan decided I was of no use to her gang.

"What is the problem?" the asked, as if on cue. "Why are you holding back?"

"I need some time. I need to study these controls before I do anything," I said, hoping she would not call my bluff.

With the corner of my left eye, I saw the pilot lift his right hand slightly as he tried to make a tapping gesture.

"Red... circle," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Tap. Manual... control."

I glanced around, finally noticing the circle. Autopilot. Of course. The pilot had activated it right after he got shot.

Nodding to him, I took a deep breath before tapping gently on the circle. There was a short alert to confirm autopilot deactivation. The nose dipped slightly, after which I tried to correct by trying to raise it to level the craft. The maneuver only caused the nose to go up much higher than I expected, with the subsequent drop in speed and warnings from the console.

"Stall warning! Stall warning!"

"No, no, don't you dare, you stupid thing!" I growled. My entire body tensed; I cursed the seeming oversensitive controls as I tried to work out how much and fast to slide my fingers on the display in order to lower the nose without sending the ship into a deep and likely uncontrollable dive. My stress was compounded by the sedative; I could feel it still in my head, blocking my conscious thoughts. I tried to force it out of my mind as I began to slide my fingers to adjust the pitch. Slowly, the ship began to react, until it was almost perfectly level; the pitch went slightly back up as I continued to determine how much I could slide my fingers across the smooth panel. As I did so, I slid my fingers slowly across the controls I assumed would allow me to turn. The shuttle responded in a similar fashion. I felt my confidence rise a little as I figured out even a tiny bit of the basics of the craft.

"What are you doing, armorback?" Kex said as he rushed towards the front. "Why are not we descending already?"

"Hey, give me time to figure out how to fly this thing better!" I retorted. "Whatever the Patrol planned when they build these things, it doesn't handle like anything I've flown before."

"No! The Patrol probably knows there is trouble already! We need to get down now!"

"If I don't input the right amounts, this flight will end much quicker than anyone here would like it to!"

"Crash land it if you must! I'm not dying at the hands of the Patrol, nor will you if you keep stalling!" He brandished both hands, claws extended, making clear his intentions to rip some part of my body open.

I tried to keep my mind clear from the sedative as I guided the shuttle further down. The clouds parted, and a thick forest appeared below. With no clearing to navigate into, and without a good grasp of the controls, I could barely do more than fly forward at a high rate of speed.

Find me a clearing, good Mother, please. Please!, I thought while looking desperately for a clearing big enough to put the craft down. There was no time to figure out the landing gear, much less the controls for I could how to shift the engines from horizontal propulsion and towards a vertical landing. The best I could hope for was an intentional, controlled flight into terrain.

I finally spotted a river, flowing southwest; part of the river banks seemed wide and long enough for me to use as some sort of improvised yet unsafe landing strip. However, I was too high to attempt any immediate landing. My only choice was to try to turn the shuttle in a sudden and steep bank angle to get it flying back in the opposite direction and aligned with the river, and descend at the same time to avoid overshooting that stretch of the river again. In a way, it was not much different from some of the maneuvers I had been forced to do sometimes when trying to throw off any pursuers when I transported Skral - except those maneuvers were not done while trying to figure out a totally unfamiliar craft at the same time.

"Hang on, everyone! This will be a sharp turn!" One thing I did not want was any of the Skirggans to think I was trying them to lose their balance. Hoping that I had estimated the right amount of input on the turn controls, I slid my hands on the console.

The shuttle responded as expected. And then some more - I growled at the aerodynamic forces from the sharp turn and rapid descent.

"Bank angle! Bank angle!" And then, almost immediately followed by "Flight to terrain! Pitch up! Pitch up!"

"Yes, you stupid shit!" I yelled at the computer as I clenched my teeth, fighting the forces while trying to keep the shuttle under control. "I know... what... I'm doing!"

Through a combination of skill and sheer luck, my maneuver worked, as the shuttle began to fly level just mere paces above the river. I knew my next maneuver would be a very long shot, but I had no time to figure out a landing mode, much less the altitude to do so. Skimming the surface of the river, I took a quick glance to gauge its depth before deciding it would not be a good idea to attempt a water landing. If I failed, I risked making the shuttle tumble, which would certainly cause it to break apart and likely kill everyone. Instead, I steered slightly starboard towards the bank. With the engines located in the undercarriage, I hoped they could get ripped apart with contact with the ground and the shuttle grind to a stop.

"BRACE!" I shouted, even when it should have been obvious for everyone inside the shuttle what was about to happen. There was nothing for me to hold on to the injured pilot, trying to keep him from further injury as whatever Maia and physics decided would happen.

There was a jarring sensation as the shuttle hit the ground, then bounced back up before falling back down and bouncing up again; a horrible sound of metal crunching and tearing followed that first bounce and warnings blared that one engine was offline. The shuttle yawed several times in the air before it finally came to a stop with a loud crash.

Several tense moments passed before I realized I had pulled it off. Astoundingly, the hull appeared to be mostly intact and, thankfully, there was no apparent fire. Still dazed from the crash, I had no time to feel pleased about myself as I raced past the half-stunned Skirggans and towards the two snoutcrest brothers still strapped onto their seats. Unsurprisingly, they had suffered no injuries or concussions, but were dazed as well.

"Come on! You need to get out of here."

I tried to figure out how to undo their straps. Behind me, I heard the Skirggans struggling to open the side doors, until finally succeeding. The sound of it finally opening was accompanied by the rush of fresh air from outside. The Skirggans elated screams were followed by snarls as some apparently fought others to get out first. I heard the noise of them splashing and diving onto the river.

Only six of them.

"Grell!" Gannek shouted. "Behind you!"

I turned to face the trigger-happy female as she aimed her gun at me. A trickle of blood ran from under her right eye ridge, from an apparent injury suffered during the crash landing. I raised my hands to show I was not armed. I turned my eyes almost unperceptively to glance at her body before staring back at her eyes. Her legs appeared slightly unsteady, likely also a result of the crash. "Where is your honor, Skirggan? We were all siblings in bindings. And I got you all to safety like I promised."

"Honor is for the weak and stupid. And you are not one to speak about honor!"

"We have no quarrel with you, female. Please, follow your comrades to safety."

"I will never have this opportunity again," she hissed. "Your syndicate did much against mine. And you... I know you. Several of my friends and mates died because of you. But you raped my brother Kex. And myself."

I did not try to justify my past actions. I knew I had done much harm to many, either as direct targets or as collateral damage. Yet I would have been hard pressed to recognize any of the victims I had killed or brutally assaulted.

"Fine. Kill me if you must. But please let these snoutcrests go. They did nothing to any of you."

"No! They belong to your group. And I will make sure all of you join it in extinction." Lifting the gun, she aimed it at Gannek.

"Not before you!" I shouted.

A sudden turn of my body sent my clubbed tail straight towards the Skirggan's legs, causing her to scream as she felt to the floor, her weapon clacking away from her. Before she could react, I grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her rather scrawny body up as she began to struggle fiercely. Back near my syndicate's territory, I would have taken a more pleasant solution - for me, at least - and open her legs and force her to ride my cock brutally for hours on end before leaving her, sore and humiliated but still alive. Instead, I twisted her neck until with my hands, still in their healing bandages. The pain on both hands was intense, but before long I heard the snap of vertebrae. Her eyes glazed and rolled upwards; I held tightly until I could not feel her breathe before letting go of the limp, lifeless body.

"That was for the pilot, whore." Dragging my kill behind me, I walked towards the exit on the right side. With one strong shove, I threw the female's body outside and onto the riverbank, where it would hopefully be enough meat for any potential carnivores to feast on until the Patrol's eventual arrival. The other Skirggans were not far, perhaps waiting for her to come out after the kill. I saw the one named Kex screech and roar in anger. Most likely he and the others felt the desire to rush back to finish what she did not. Instead, they all turned and ran away, deciding they were better off putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the imminent arrival of any Patrol soldiers.

I turned back towards the brothers, undoing the straps and their bindings. I picked the rifle that the female had dropped and handed it to Surreyk as I gestured at them to get out. "You must leave now. Take this gun for protection."

Gannek tilted his head to the right, confused. There was something inherently cute whenever he did that, but right then I was overwhelmed with too many feelings to even care. "What about you?" he asked, apparently puzzled that I had not made a move, much less showed any urgency. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"You two go ahead. I... I'll stay here."

"What are you saying? The Patrol will capture or kill you!"

I nodded. "I know. But I... I can't do this anymore. I am tired of running and fighting. You two, however, deserve a better life."

I stepped out of the shuttle and took a few steps away to have a look at my surroundings, trying to figure out exactly where we had landed. I had a vague idea of the area while we were flying overhead, but I hated the thought of being incorrect. If I were wrong, I could send the two brothers towards a city or town where they could be captured again by the Patrol. Or worse, towards by some other syndicate or gang. Using the sun to calculate compass points and satisfied of our whereabouts, I turned towards both brothers.

"That way," I said as I pointed downstream. "Keep well within the forest, but follow the river southwest. If you keep a steady pace, within a day or two you should be able to see a Tokari resort west of the river. The resort will be well fortified, so don't give them cause for alarm; make sure to leave the rifle where you can get it again if needed. Those lizards may sound a bit sketchy but I'm sure they will take you under their arms. No questions asked."

Both snoutcrests stared at me for a few instants before each one joined their hands together, bowing slightly with claws pointing downwards in the gesture of deep respect that carnivores used towards other archosaurs. Without a word, they turned around to look downstream. They seemed reluctant to move at first, then took a few steps as it became clear to them that I would not follow, before they sprang into a faster run. I watched until they turned around a bend, and completely out of sight, before heading back inside the shuttle.

Even as I watched them run away, I could not help harboring some hatred for myself. Despite whatever mental shortcomings the brothers had, their hunting instincts were still strong; they certainly were capable of foraging for food, or keeping their tracks hidden. But I was also certain that there was only one kind of "job" the Tokari would have for them. And yet, where the Patrol had plans to make them prostitutes inside a penal world, the lizards would make sure the brothers lived safe and healthy, and maybe even enjoy being solicited for sex.

There was nothing for me to do but head back inside the shuttle and wait for the Patrol to show up. Once inside, I heard the wounded pilot moan.

"So... cold."

I searched the cabinets until I found some thick blankets, and covered his body as I sat down on the floor next to him. I tucked the blanket under the pilot, trying to comfort him. I tried not to think that there was nothing that could be done for him, that he could pass away from his wounds before help arrived. "Hang tight. The Patrol will be here soon."

He turned to look at me, seemingly confused to see I was staying by his side, but also relieved.

"You... should... leave," he said.

I shook my head gently, holding his right hand with both of mine. "I'm too tired to run. It's time for this old armorback to pay his debts. And even if we were in opposite sides, I rather not leave a wounded, fellow flier alone."

A faint smile crossed his snout. "Thank... you," he muttered, and closed his eyes. "You did well... nice crash."

I lowed softly at his playful sarcasm. I closed my eyes as well; the effects of the sedative still lingered in my head, and seemed to return with renewed strength now that the crisis appeared to be over. How much time passed is rather irrelevant at this point; I just settled to enjoy however much quiet I would get before any soldiers would show up.

Sadly, it was not enough for a decent nap before I was jarred wide awake by a loud voice.

"Don't move!"

I opened my eyes to see three sets of heavy rifles pointed at me; three sets of angry eyes were behind said weapons. Very slowly, I showed my hands to make it clear I was not holding any weapons myself. "Believe me, I have no intention to."

"Where's the rest of the prisoners?"

I gestured with my head to all the empty seats where myself and the other prisoners had sat before. "They escaped, as you can probably see."

The soldiers stared at each other, then back at myself, clearly confused by my presence.

"Why... are you still here?"

"Waiting for you to take me where I belong." A soft sigh escaped from my lips as I laid down on my stomach and placed my arms behind my back, ready to be handcuffed. "Please help your fellow soldier here first. Then I hope you can find a cell where I can sleep and not be bothered for a while."

* * *

I stared at the trihorn's eyes as he stared intently back at me, as if unable to understand why I was back in his presence. By then, he should have been briefed about what had happened with the shuttle and the prisoners. Yet my very presence clearly bothered and confused him, something that I relished in secret. Perhaps he noticed that as well, as he slammed his open hands on the desk in frustration.

"All right... enough of this!" he screamed as he continued staring at me with obvious frustration. "Why are you here?" he asked, followed by a loud growl.

"Because you shot and captured me?" I said as emotionless as I could. "I'm sure you remember that much at least."

The sergeant snorted as he waived a finger close to my nostrils. "Don't be a smart ass with me, Grell. You know what I'm talking about!"

I tried not to make much of his last sentence, hoping it did not imply all the other prisoners had been captured. Even so, I could not help a subtle smile forming on my snout, which seemed to annoy the trihorn even more. "Can I be a dumb ass, then? Because I certainly must be one to have stayed behind. Maybe I hit my head hard when I crashed that shuttle and don't remember."

"If any of the worthless dregs in that shuttle would have a reason to create a mutiny it should be you!"

I returned his angry stare. "Give me some credit, you clueless moron. Why would I cause a mutiny, risk my life by getting one soldier dead and the other gravely wounded, only to stay in the wreck and give up without putting up a fight?"

"Do you really expect me to believe you alone were at the controls?"

"I doubt there would be any other explanation. I figure you've seen the pilot's condition by now. His wounds are not what you would get from a crash. And as I have said before, you can blame his injuries on that dead female your soldiers found by the riverbank."

The trihorn snorted, crossing his arms on his chest. "Very well. Let's play your game and assume that you indeed managed to get the shuttle down. Let's assume that you did not cause the mutiny. That still doesn't explain why you didn't escape with all the others. I can't believe you would just surrender meekly after all the fight you put up during the raid at your compound, and all your pathetic threats about killing me or the other soldiers."

My mood turned somber. "Well, if you need to know, I didn't run because I'm tired."

"Tired? Of what?"

"Of running. Yes, I remember what you said about that prison, and all the decades of back-breaking labor that awaited me. I just can't explain it." I paused and heaved a long sigh. "Before that crash... I could not help ponder how futile my life was. If I had ran away, it would have meant trying to luck out finding another syndicate to take me. It also meant fighting against the same things that would still try to kill me. It could have meant having others from your Patrol after my hide, and sending me to prison would likely not be in their plans." With another long, loud sigh, I lowered my head to stare at the floor. "Honestly, that Ughran place is beginning to feel like the better and safer alternative, rather than watching my back constantly until my luck ran out."

The trihorn said nothing; the displeasure in his face vanished slowly as he continued to look at me. "I'll have to admit you took the right decision. One of the two ships we sent to investigate located six of the escapees about five kilopaces away on their way to the crash. They refused to surrender even as they found themselves with no way out, and they had to stay there to tag and collect the bodies. Another was laying close to the shuttle, already dead. The other two appear to have managed capture so far, but I'm confident we will be able to find them soon enough."

He did not say who were the two still at large, but it was quite clear he was referring to the snoutcrests. I tried to keep any emotions from betraying my feelings. I could only hope that the brothers would be able to reach and become part of the Tokari resort. It would be easy for them to hide the brothers from the Patrol. Myself, I would stick out like a sore thumb. And what makes the Tokari crafty is the same reason I would not pledge to serve them as hired muscle or an actor for any of their fantasy schemes.

The door to the room opened. A longcrest soldier stepped in and motioned for the trihorn to come to him. "Excuse me, Sergeant. Could you spare a moment?"

The trihorn stared at me for a few seconds, then walked towards his subordinate. The longcrest handled the trihorn a slate, and pointed at several items as both stared at its contents. Both spoke at length for some time, yet not loud enough and with their backs turned towards me, preventing me from catching any of their conversation. Even when I did not look at them directly, I could feel their gaze on me several times. Their conversation continued for a few minutes before the longcrest saluted and left the room.

The trihorn walked back to where I was sitting.

"Some unfortunate news. The shuttle pilot died from his injuries_."_

I let out a soft sigh. I had no doubt that the Patrol would pin his death and that of the other soldier on me, as well as holding me responsible for the mutiny and the crash of the shuttle. Most likely, that would mean not getting sent to Ughran, but that my Path in life would end far sooner.

"Well, then please don't let this drag long, I beg you. Take me to the deathjaw executioner. Just tell her to make it quick, if she can remember anything in that primal state they use."

"Well, no," the trihorn said in a somewhat reassuring tone. "No one is accusing you of his death, Grell. Or for having any part in the mutiny, for that matter."

My heart began beating faster upon hearing his words. "What do you mean?"

"The pilot was conscious in his last moments. He seemed to realize he did not have much time. He... _vouched_for you. You asked him for a sedative. And he said it was you who managed to fly the shuttle, and tended to his wounds as he laid on the floor. He begged us to review the flight recorders immediately." He placed the slate for me to watch a short replay of the events inside the cabin.

I sighed softly with some relief. "Thank you for Your mercy, Good Mother."

"My apologies. Sorry for doubting your word. I must admit I am impressed. How did you figure out the controls?"

"Desperation, mostly. Right at that moment I wanted to continue living and fighting. Probably would have done a better job if those fucking Skirggans had allowed me more time to figure out how some of the other controls worked. That damned shuttle was totally opposite on how I would have expected any other craft to operate." I spat the last sentence to indicate my contempt at the Alliance.

"Yes, that is intentional. Patrol ships do not follow any conventions used by any civilian ship of the Alliance. That, along with heavy encryption of their system software, helps ensure that only actual Patrol soldiers with the right training can operate them."

"So much for that security, if an idiot like me figured it out." I said with a smirk.

"The shuttle is not as sophisticated as our larger ships. But even without those additional safety measures, you should not have had any chance to figure out much about operating it before we would have blown you out of the sky."

"Along with your fellow soldiers. That must be reassuring for the rest of your troops."

"We have pledged our lives to the Alliance," the trihorn said with a cold and firm tone as he dismissed my attempt at sarcasm. "We are all ready to die when the day comes."

"In any case," he continued, "there is no reason for me to try to discuss this any further. I need you out of here. And away from my nostrils, for sure. Good Mother, the judge wasn't exaggerating in the courtroom, and you smell even worse now."

I ignored his attempt at some insult. "Whatever. I hope that ship towards that prison you talked about leaves soon. I'm tired and really want the wait to be over. I promise that your Alliance won't have any problems with me this time. If you don't pair me with more Skirggans."

"That... will have to wait as well. My immediate superiors have placed a request for some testing."

I straightened my head as I reclined my shoulders backwards slightly, exasperated. "A test? What is there to test?"

The trihorn closed the gap between his face and mine, until hardly anything other than his frill and his horns filled my field of view. I could see the exact composition of his scaly skin as he narrowed his eyes while staring firmly at me.

"You."

* * *

_ _

More time passed, but I had no idea how much. It is easy to lose track when inside a cell, with no outside light to at least give some indication to the passage of time. Not like there would be any when that cell was inside a ship making a Tachyon traverse journey to yet another world unknown to me.

Right then, there was nothing for me to do but pass the time with whatever array of curated contents the Alliance provided for me to watch on the screen in my cell, and which seemed geared towards how nice life could be for its citizens.

I was led out of the cell once we arrived at our destination, and into another shuttle. This time, however, I was not naked. Shortly before the ship departed to our destination, I was asked - rather strongly at that - to have a thorough bath, and was given clothes to wear. They said it was imperative that I not walk around naked wherever we were headed, to which I agreed, although I delayed putting the stupid thing on until just before they came to take me out of the cell.

This shuttle had side windows, and from my seat I could see us heading towards what looked like some kind of structure not too dissimilar from the one where that judge had sentenced me. Yet it was too big to be some kind of court for some simple criminal like myself. A few windowless buildings sat prominently in the middle of the compound, connected to some of the other buildings in the periphery. There were open areas where many archosaurs wandered about; clearly parks with small lakes and even some seats. And close by, a landing pad for shuttles, albeit in a corner and considerably distant so as not to interfere with whatever was happening inside those structures in the middle. Which was exactly where were myself and the two deathjaw soldiers guarding me would be heading.

I tried hard not to grumble at the constant stares after we left the shuttle, and for a few minutes afterwards as we walked towards our eventual destination. Even if I had been outfitted with something resembling a Patrol uniform, it was perfectly clear I was far from a regular soldier - I walked between the soldiers, with my arms and hands shackled behind my back, although thankfully, not my legs so I was able to walk fully upright at a normal pace. Throughout the walk and some type of registration desk where my entire body was scanned, archosaur after archosaur could not help but stare directly at me. Some appeared genuinely curious as to whatever reason there was for my presence; others made no attempt to conceal their contempt. And likely, my morphed feet certainly did me no favors.

Following the lead soldier to one of the windowless buildings, I saw it was made up of only a few large rooms, after looking at the separation between each of the doors. A constant yet not overtly loud humming and rumbling seemed to come from each one, which I deduced was some kind of machinery. And rather large at that, which certainly necessitated some its own space inside the building.

The lead soldier paused to look at a small slate he carried, perusing its information. Finding whatever it was that he needed, he gestured for me to follow. None of the soldiers was pulling a cord to get me to follow; it would have been extremely easy for me to run away. I also had the common sense to know that also would have been an extremely stupid thing to do.

Eventually we reached the only room that did not seem to be accompanied by any kind of noise. Opening the door, the soldier stepped inside, and me and the other soldier followed right behind.

The room appeared to be some kind of control area, with seats arranged facing a large screen at the front. Each seat had its own console. Two of the seats stood higher in the center and towards the rear, with one seat positioned where its occupant would face the screen directly ahead, with the second one to its right. Another chair in the lower level and directly ahead of that main chair was also located facing that screen; a rather wide and large console was there, for whichever occupant of that chair was to handle.

Each seat was occupied. I do not remember much about who was in the room; for some odd reason my eyes locked on the two occupants facing the screen directly. A seemingly mature groundthumper sat on the upper middle seat, and a young green hornskull was behind the large console.

"Scholar Jarlek," the lead deathjaw soldier said, calling someone in the room.

"Ah, there you are, Sergeant." The groundthumper turned an inquisitive gaze towards me. "I figure this is the armorback mentioned in the report I received?"

"Yes, sir. He should be ready for your testing."

I tried not to let my curiosity become too obvious as I glanced around, trying to figure out what sort of test they had planned for me. I glanced at the large screen, which switched to display what looked a very close shot of what looked like some sort of space station, while a few small craft moved around. While it was clear that it was a computer-generated image, I could not help a slight feeling of confusion, and wondered if I had somehow teleported instantly back into orbit.

"Ah, most excellent! We will have the simulator ready in a few minutes." He turned towards the hornskull. "I'm sorry, cadet. I'm afraid we will have to reschedule your test for a later time. We have someone that needs that space right now."

The cadet saluted before getting up and walking away from his chair, even as it was clear he was confused as to why he was losing his spot to an apparent prisoner. He directed an angry gaze at me as he left the room. I paid him no attention; I was already acquainted with how pretentious hornskulls could be, having dealt with a rather annoying one in my syndicate. That bastard likely died during the raid, or was now running for his neck now that the syndicate was not there to protect him.

The lead soldier motioned to his companion to release my bindings once the door locked after the hornskull left the room. I rubbed my wrists, relieved to be out of the arm braces, even if it would be temporary.

"So, armorback," Jarlek said. "Grell, I believe that is how you call yourself?" He motioned towards the seat vacated by the hornskull. "Please, take your place." He then turned towards the two soldiers, asking them to take some designated spots towards the rear of the room that appeared not to be part of the test.

I stared at the console, unsure what to make of it. It was most obviously a navigation console, the likes I had never seen before. A myriad of controls and report screens that, at first glance, seemed impossible to work without some serious effort. "A question, if I may?" I asked with some apprehension.

"Go ahead."

"Why am I here? This console... it looks like some control panel. But it is very big. Like nothing I've seen before."

"Precisely. You are inside a simulator - a mockup of the bridge of one of our Dak series of exploration ships. That which you have in front of you is the navigational station. The pilot's seat, if you wish to call it like that. We would like to test your abilities in navigating an interstellar vessel."

"Wait... what!? Are you serious? You want me to work this thing... without any previous knowledge!?"

"You flew a Patrol shuttle without any prior instruction. We would like to see if you can figure out a much larger vessel. This time, of course, without anyone's life being in danger. Although your fate will certainly depend on whatever you can do here today."

I stared at the console for several instants. My heartbeat and anxiety shot upwards, with a feeling that I imagine would not be dissimilar to what any of my primal ancestors could have experienced when facing a big and hungry carnivore. I shook my head vigorously as I waved my hands. "No, no, no. You have the wrong archosaur here. This is seriously way above my skill! I have only flown small shuttles. Definitively not like the ones the Patrol uses, and certainly not like this!"

"Well, we dismissed that hornskull cadet, so you may as well take his place now."

I turned to face the console, hoping it could really spring to life and devour me. "Good Mother, do you Patrol people like to see others suffer? Why wasn't I told about this test?"

"If you had known about it previously, you would have either refused out of contempt at the thought of doing anything to help the Patrol, or you would have tried to prepare yourself for this. The anxiety you felt while flying that shuttle is what we need right now. Although the only skin you will need to save is your own, in a way." Jarlek motioned for two of the other occupants in the room to walk to the station. "While you work the console, we will monitor your brain activity and life signs."

I remained impassive as his assistants attached several wires to my head and body, then connected them to the navigation console. My despair grew several orders of magnitude as the console lighted up completely in response.

Jarek tapped several spots in his console. "Normally, a Navigator would be outfitted with a wireless, permanent neural interface that would do the work those wires are doing right now, while also enhance the Navigator's reaction times, which are crucial for flying one of these ships. Obviously, we cannot do that now, as you are not an actual soldier. So, for this test we will eliminate certain factors and some of the controls in your station will be disabled. The rest, however, you will be expected to manipulate."

My confidence levels did not grow in the slightest. Waving my arms to encompass the large console in front of me, I uttered one last plea. "How could anyone expect me to understand all of this?"

The groundthumper must have had a limitless pool of patience as he looked at me without the slightest trace of annoyance. "Think of it this way. The only thing at stake today is your sentence in that penal colony. If you help us, it could go towards getting a shorter sentence, or maybe even join the Patrol in some capacity. Unless you really fancy doing hard labor as an underground miner, I say the least you could do is give this a try. Besides, there is nothing you could break in a simulator."

I closed my eyes and lowered my snout, somewhat humbled at the thought that someone thought I could be worthy of a chance to redeem myself. Tears began welling in my eyes, but I made no attempt to conceal them; if it made me look less of a brute, I did not mind. "Do you really think someone with my background would even have a chance in the Patrol?"

"We have had our share of former outlaws before, and certainly there will be more. If you came across a path that could possibly lead you away from danger, wouldn't you want to follow it?"

I stared at the console again for several moments. I turned to nod at Jarlek before I sat down and placed my hands on the console.

"Begin," I said.

* * *

"And there's the new Navigator," a deep, familiar voice said.

"That's what they say," I said as I looked at the trihorn's reflection in the mirror. I turned to look at him; he was carrying an unmarked, metal green box under his right arm, to which I paid little attention. Smiling, I tapped the neural implant between my right eye and earhole before turning to look back at the mirror and finish adjusting my uniform. I could not help but flex my arms, bare from any clothing, as my armorback body meant I could not wear a full shirt like most other archosaur species. Rather vain of me to say so, but I really liked the way those seemed to complement my strong body and muscles.

"So... it is true, then. Congratulations."

I dismissed the compliment. "Pshhh. Hardly."

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"I have fifteen years of supervised probation to complete. I must remain in active duty to the Patrol before I am even eligible to have anyone even contemplate to look at my Patrol files. No possibility for a discharge before that." I turned to look at the trihorn as I snorted, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "And you bastards will not even count the time I spent in that blasted academy! Merciful Maia; I feel like choosing Ughran would have been far less painful."

"You didn't expect we would let you go off that easily, did you?" The trihorn lowed softly with laughter. "Don't fret about the details. You still get time off to go about inside the Alliance as you may please, although yes, the probation will restrict some of your movements. Do your best to stay out of trouble, and you could leave the Patrol with high honors and possibly right at the end of your probation period."

"I can help but wonder why many in the Alliance seem so optimistic about almost everything. And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there hunting those mammals like you said you wanted to?"

"My ship is parked outside, and we're enjoying a short leave. The Patrol also asked us to pick up some civilian journalists. Seems like someone in the Alliance wants to document some of our operations for the citizens to watch. Since you happened to be in the same station, I decided to drop by and see you as a new, proud citizen of the Alliance." He took a strong whiff at my body. "You don't smell as bad. That's certainly an improvement."

I resisted the urge to respond with an obscene gesture, and turned towards filling a shoulder bag with personal items to take with me to the ship.

"You're certainly off to a great start," he continued. "Not only you got assigned to one of the most renowned ships in the fleet, but you get to serve under Commander Prion as well."

I scoffed. "Yeah, about that. Sure, I've heard several times already that supposedly I graduated as a Navigator with some of the highest scores out of all the Patrol academies. I'm sure there are many who could have done just as well, or better."

"Likely, but those get sent to pilot the dreadnaughts and all the other ships fighting in the war. You may not be as good, if there's any truth about rumors that you crashed a simulator real hard during a test, but even those results impressed the scholars. Your reflexes outperformed even cadets with knowledge and previous experience in that simulator. If becoming the Navigator of the Dak-Tarrakhan as your first assignment doesn't seem like an honor to you, then I have no idea what else could it be."

I frowned at being reminded of how embarrassed I was at the end of that test. Good results or not, I knew I would never be allowed to completely forget about it. "I still don't understand why they seemed so impressed. Besides, I've already met Prion, and he did not seem exactly thrilled to have a former gun for hire as his Navigator. My body morphs and karjra habit certainly didn't do me any favors, either."

The trihorn grunted as he waved his right hand to dismiss my concerns. "I wouldn't worry much about it. Everyone in the Patrol likes Prion. He looks tough, but he's not as heartless as he tries to appear. And I would bet anything that you could thank old General Zaron for the honor. He and Prion are very close friends, so the plateback will defer his own judgment to that of the deathjaw. Show Prion what you're capable of, and he'll warm up to you in no time. Could be worse - I heard there is one Commander who got assigned a terrorclaw as his First Officer. It must be hard to run a ship knowing there's someone in the bridge that could go feral in an instant. If what others say is true, that terrorclaw did exactly that to a fellow cadet. I'm still trying to understand how one of his kind even got to join the Patrol."

"Really?" I said, feeling incredulous. "Your guess would be as good as mine."

A mechanical voice erupted through the intercom. "Attention, all personnel! All crew of the Dak-Tarrakhan must begin reporting to their stations. Bridge crew, you must report within twenty-seven minutes."

I turned to look at the trihorn. Despite all my training and preparations, it was still hard to believe I was about to start active duty for the same people who once would not have hesitated to kill me on sight. "I guess that's my cue to put all that training to work."

"Excellent. I've grown a bit weary of nosing around your files to look at your progress. I didn't sign up to the Patrol to become an unofficial egg-sitter. You outgrew your nest ages ago."

I scoffed slightly and began to turn to walk away when the trihorn called my name.

"Grell."

I pointed towards the exit, indicating my urgency to leave.

"One more thing before you go," he continued as he opened the box he was carrying. "A gift for you. Think of this as a symbol of the better path you have stepped into."

Looking inside the box, my eyes opened wide in surprise; they were moist with the start of tears as I reached inside to pull out two very familiar weapons.

"My... guns." I stammered and struggled to say those two, simple words. The Path I had known had changed from when I proudly brandished those weapons. I had experienced pain and suffering before living as an outlaw in a world where a violent death was almost a certainty, to one where others could look at me and feel secure that I was looking after the society that provided for them. Sure, the possibility of death still hung over my head as a soldier, but that was something I had made my peace with long ago. My previous Path was one that I was more than eager to leave behind completely. And yet, having my old guns back brought me a strange sense of familiarity and comfort.

The trihorn smiled, seemingly enjoying my reaction. "I still don't understand why I didn't send them to be scrapped, as per Patrol directives. Something about you on that day when we first saw each other made me keep them. You'll have to forgive me for having the Patrol emblem permanently etched on them. It was the only way I could get them approved for use. They are very nice guns, I will say. But I feel they are better in the hands of their_true_ owner."

I turned to look deep into the trihorn's eyes. "I don't mind. Not at all. This... this means a lot to me. Thank you." I twirled the guns in my fingers several times. Holding one in each hand, I looked at them before smiling somewhat fiendishly as I lifted my right hand and aimed the gun directly at the trihorn's face, holding it there for several heartbeats. "Should we continue where we left off?"

The sergeant narrowed his eyes and smiled back, apparently unfazed. "Is that threat about me becoming your bitch still active?"

Bursting in loud laughter, I placed both guns in my shoulder bag. "Don't tempt me."

Turning around to walk away, I only managed two steps before I stopped to look back at the trihorn as a sudden thought occurred to me. "You know... after all this time... I never even asked or bothered to look up how you call yourself."

The trihorn smiled and extended his right arm at me. I gripped his forearm with my right hand as he gripped mine in return. "Thorek," he said.

I nodded and let go of his arm.

Thorek smiled and nodded back. "One last advice, if I may."

"Sure."

"Try to work on that personality of yours. You are no longer a mercenary trying to save his own neck. You will have comrades that will fight at your side and will fight to help you survive. And they will expect the same from you as well. Who knows - one of them could even become a very close partner."

"As in... a life partner?"

Thorek nodded.

I remained silent for several heartbeats before bursting in loud laughter. "You may have helped free me from the chains of a former life and from a prison, but there's no way this armorback will share his path with that of another. That would be the day, indeed!"

He replied with only a sly smile, as if preparing himself for when he could prove me wrong again. He gave me a hand salute from one Patrol soldier to another. "Safe explorations, Navigator."

I returned the salute and trotted away from the room as I hurried towards the Tarrakhan, and my new path.

* * *

The pungent odors of sweat and heavy sex drifted in the room as I looked at the dark-skinned hunter I held in a firm, gentle embrace. I held him close, his body soaking wet from sweat and semen from our mating, and the previous two sessions as well. His breathing subsided as the last throes of a powerful climax left him, my thick phallus still deep under his tail and inside him.

"Grell," he said softly, barely stirring. I urged him to say nothing more with a gentle nuzzle on the back of his lower jaw, my own heavy breathing ruffling the few crest feathers that were somehow still dry.

My eyes misted, thinking of the joy his presence had brought and continued to bring me, and how much I was willing to give to keep it that way. Whomever had approved my terrorclaw to join the Patrol certainly would earn my eternal gratitude.

Our first ever mating was the first time I had mated out of love and the joy of having a wonderful companion with which to share my path. Many other times had followed ever since, and far more certainly would. As in every time that we mated, the dry fluids of our union covered part of our bodies and our bed, to which I contributed a copious amount as I finally pulled my half-erect, thick phallus from his slender body. Darkthunder growled softly, both with pleasure and relief. We continued holding together, neither saying much, just letting our heightened senses speak for ourselves.

"Grell?" Darkthunder said as he stirred, then turned his head to look at me, eyes open only halfway, as I pressed his rump against my crotch.

I took a strong whiff of his scent as I nuzzled the back of his neck. "Time for sleep, my hunter. Don't mind me. I'm just... relishing what we've just done."

He let out a soft growl of displeasure as he seemed to notice my erection pressed against his rump. "And you... still want more of it?"

"Of course." I lowed in soft laughter. "But only after our next shift. Now it is time for sleep, my beautiful terrorclaw. Your rest is far more important than what I want."

Darkthunder laid his head back on the pillow, then trilled and warbled something in his native language, seemingly sounding somewhat irritated. I did not understand his words, but I did not have to. As Thorek had noted, Darkthunder was prone to outbursts of anger even when on active duty, which required me and the crew to work around it, although he had proven many times to reach the desirable outcome for the mission. Yet even with his outburst, I knew he was equally pleased to have found me, if not even more so. He quickly fell asleep again as I held his smaller, leaner body against mine, his feathered crest pressed against the underside of my lower jaw. Taking his scent, I felt overwhelmed with joy, at having even more purposes to continue my Path inside the Patrol and a life of good.

I could not help a feeling of immense sadness for Thorek. The trihorn had been correct about so much about my future path. I wish he could have anticipated his own and taken a different one. I had tried to look for him in the Patrol directories after Darkthunder and I joined paths, aware that he would laugh once I got to tell him he had also been right about me finding love. I tried to look for him in his Patrol files. He wase listed as missing in action - not long after I last saw him, the shuttle he had been in while inspecting some abandoned mammalian bases was brought down by enemy fire. His body was not found in the wreckage, nor that of another soldier or the two civilian journalists that were making a documentary about the war. Oddly, while the report on the incident listed his possibility of death as almost certain, it contained a rather inordinate amount of highly classified information; the authorization required for access, however, was limited to only the highest ranks of the Patrol. Inexplicably, I had to hold myself to the table and computer terminal as I felt my knees weaken; the mere thought that something warranted such secrecy sent an overwhelming wave of dread and sorrow too strong for my hardened spirit to withstand. I cried for several minutes, and begged Maia to whisk his spirit to a well-deserved rest in one of Her pastures.

The day will eventually come when my life ends, and I hope that I also will join those pastures as well. Hopefully, we will cross paths once again so I can tell him he was wrong. I did not open a Path for a life in the Patrol. It was back that day in the compound when he opened the Path for me.

A path... of redemption.

I settled on the bed next to my terrorclaw and joined him into a deep, relaxing sleep.

END

_ _

_ _