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With darkness descending: The story of Triss Nighthunter. A furry fiction by Rocko Wallaby

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 5: Aftermath.

The next morning, Trav woke early from his sleep, stretching against the warmth of his sheets covering him. His internal body clock always had him up before 7am most mornings, and had no respect for the excesses encountered the night before. Not enough sleep, he thought fuzzily; never enough sleep! Reaching up to his face with a hand, he rubbed at his eyes and forehead, before cautiously opening them, squinting at the glare coming through the skylight above. He still felt somewhat disorientated following the previous nights indulgence, and it took a while for his vision to stop spinning and he was able to get his bearings.

He sighed, reaching back for his pillow, before his hand encountered something soft and warm lying against his chest. Running his hand along it, he felt it stir momentarily against his fingers, and he withdrew them carefully. Eyes widening in surprise, he slowly changed his position, turning to look into the still sleeping face of the Krynn he was resting against.

Damn, he thought to himself, before resting back into the crook of the Triss's arm carefully.

He felt Triss stir in his sleep, murmuring something intelligible, before the arm around him tightened momentarily and the Krynn nuzzled gently into his hair. Trav froze, unsure what to do, but Triss began a slow, steady rumbling snore against him, clearly in no shape to wake any time soon. Trav looked down at the furred arm again and sighed, before carefully reaching to lift it away, and gently slipping the sheets from around him.

He sat up slowly on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Triss's slumber. Rubbing his eyes again, he looked down at the Krynn. Triss looked peaceful, snuggled into the sheets with his naked, furred chest gently rising and falling with his breathing, and Trav felt no need to wake him. Besides, he was too busy himself wondering how they'd came to be sleeping together.

It wasn't that he was that shocked about it. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd always been one to never judge another on their preferences and beliefs, but he still felt confused about the jumble of feelings he was experiencing about the situation. He liked the Krynn, for sure. Over the past few weeks they'd spent working together, he'd developed a deep respect for Triss, both personally and professionally, and he'd become quite comfortable being in his presence, furry face notwithstanding.

But he was an alien, for fucks sake! Jesus Christ, he wasn't human! Waking up with him in his bed should have sent him running for the hills, but he didn't. Nor did he want to. His mind reeled, as he tried to make some sense of what he was thinking.

Having the hangover from hell didn't help any, either.

Giving up trying to decipher the situation and sort out his feelings, he became aware of another fact; he stank! Vomit, stale beer and sweat. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, he gingerly got to his feet, somewhat unsteady thanks to his spinning head, and cautiously made his way to the bathroom facilities. Morning ablutions completed, he stepped into the shower cubicle, running the water to temperature, and began washing the previous day's excesses from his skin.

His thoughts turned to their prior nights mission, which unsurprisingly seemed a lesser priority for him now. Recalling his feelings of the previous evening, he was surprised to realise he didn't feel the same as he had. Sure, he still felt some guilt, but it seemed less important now. It was a task that had to be done, and they had done it. The past few months spent here had convinced him that their cause was just, and like any other job, he had no delusions it was as simple as a "them or us" scenario. Such excuses were weak, and no justification for taking such action. He also understood that attempting to negotiate with these creatures would be futile, and they needed to be stopped.

Certainly, for the moment, they had been stopped quite effectively.

However, his thoughts kept slipping to another subject, distracting him from his deliberations. He kept picturing the sleeping furred form in his bed; the musky scent of the Krynn pressed against him and the softness of his fur; before shaking his head under the water stream to snap out of it. Now wasn't the time for such daydreams. He had more important concerns.

Turning off the water, he dried himself, before donning a clean change of clothes and tossing his soiled garments into the cleaner. Making his way to the kitchen, he put on the kettle, before turning on the viewing screen and tuning into the local news.

The coverage was saturated with the events of the previous evening.

Local authorities were calling it a gas explosion, possibly in an illegal drug manufacturing facility. The details were sketchy, but the fire had spread to several nearby warehouses, leading to an entire section of the docks being cordoned off. The cameras were changing between aerial views and on-the-spot reporters, and Trav had some trouble making sense of the information.

Then the reporter announced that the interview with the authorities was about to commence, and Trav was startled to see his own boss, Police Chief Kevin Williams, step onto the podium.

Crap. This should be interesting, he thought.

Clearing his throat, Chief Williams began his report by reviewing the events of the previous night. At around 12.30am, a fireball had engulfed the warehouse on "E" pier, quickly spreading to the adjoining warehouses. Fire fighters had attended the area by 1.00am, with over 30 units being called in to handle the massive blaze. The building in which the fire was suspected to have started had been completely gutted, with the heat having been intense enough to reduce the metal frame to molten, twisted wreckage. However, the event was being treated as suspicious, as the area was supposed to have been deserted, and it was clear that numerous vehicles had left the scene shortly before the authorities had arrived. Initial thoughts were that the fire had been caused by an explosion in an illicit drug manufacturing facility, although nothing had been ruled by the police out at this stage. Investigations would continue once the wreckage cooled enough to allow forensic personnel into the site, which was not expected for at least 24 hours.

Shit, thought Trav to himself. That was one serious fire they'd started.

He'd always been taught that if you had a job to do, you'd better do it well. They'd certainly done this one well!

Pondering the situation, Trav sipped his drink, trying to think how to clandestinely obtain more information on the investigation. While his forced sabbatical wasn't officially due to end until the following week, a "premature" visit to the office wasn't unreasonable.

Getting up decisively, he quickly typed a message on the terminal for the cache AI to pass onto Triss when he woke later in the day. Donning his hat and coat, he stepped from the cache into the drizzling morning rain, turning up his coat collar and disappearing down the alley.

_________________________________________________________

Triss woke to the muffled sound of voices coming from the monitor in the kitchen nearby. Stretching on the mattress, he felt his joints pop as his muscles pressed against his flesh. He was getting too old for this sort of shit, he thought to himself. Opening his eyes slowly, he was unsurprised to find himself alone in the bed. Trav, he knew, was an early riser, but he had almost hoped he might still be there, given his state of exhaustion (not to mention inebriation).

Pressing his face into the sheets, he breathed deeply of the human's scent. Exotic, even for someone as well travelled throughout the galaxy as he was. His own feelings on the situation were as confused as Trav's, and he debated on how they had ended up sharing the bed. Why hadn't he ignored the human, when his quiet appeal had been made? He'd been drunk; totally out of it. What had made him do such a thing?

More to the point, why was he feeling so comfortable with having done it?

He sighed, releasing the sheets and allowing them to slip through his fingers back onto the mattress. A glance at the clock showed that he'd already missed half the day, and he needed to lodge his report on the previous night's events.

Stretching tiredly again, he climbed out of bed, and made his way to the comms room, pausing only to grab a coffee from the kitchen. Seeing a cold, half empty cup on the bench, he realised Trav had been gone from the cache some time, as his keen sense of smell couldn't detect his presence in the centre. Resting heavily on the comms couch, the terminal lit up under his questing fingers, indicating a message had been left for him by Trav earlier that morning. After reading it, he sat back and considered the possibilities. Clearly Trav had gotten over some of his negative mental state, and was thinking to follow up the matter from the human angle. Not a bad idea, given how their actions had them scurrying around like a disturbed ants nest.

It took over an hour before his report was completed to his satisfaction. While the Marauder operation in the city had been neutralised, it was simply one small setback for them in an operation that spanned the globe. HQ had been aware of at least five other satellite facilities conducting similar research, and while Triss was only responsible for those conducted in his area of operation, he was continually updated with events occurring elsewhere around the planet.

The United Systems had placed six caches located at strategic points around the globe? All acted independently, reporting directly to United Systems Corps HQ as required and, in general, little interaction occurred between operatives from the various stations. Triss expected a reply to eventually come from HQ, but they considered the human world a backwater, and never seemed in any hurry to respond.

His report completed and forwarded, Triss debated how to spend the rest of the afternoon. He hadn't heard from Trav, as he had wisely left his communicator in the cache when heading to his precinct. While at a glance they looked like any other typical "smart phone" available on the local market, they had a few "extra" features that would have made an Apple technician blow his load. In particular, a direct link to the cache AI, and the link to HQ it provided.

He slid one into his jacket pocket, activated his camo unit, and began walking down the wet streets towards the precinct office.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­____________________________________________________

Trav leaned back in his office chair, stretching to get the crick from his neck. His return to the office had been... awkward, to say the least. Having to field the repeated queries on his health from well wishers, questions on his absence and, more irritatingly, the ongoing ragging he received about "banging his head while on a raid", he answered all their grilling stoically, before finally being able to collapse in peace at his desk. The Chief was away from the precinct at the moment, fending off more reporters fishing for information on the warehouse fire so, for the present, Trav had some time to follow up his own leads. Tapping away at the laptop on his desk, he smiled momentarily at how primitive and limited it seemed, compared to the facilities within the cache. Hell, if they had that sort of processing power at their disposal, the police force could handle just about anything!

When the results of his searches began to appear, he spread the reports across his monitor, looking for anything suspicious that might cause him, and subsequently Triss and his operation, any difficulty. So far, the reports had been fairly dry, lacking anything that could be incriminating. Some mention of "odd" equipment came up now and again, but the fire had done a nice job of eliminating all evidence of their presence.

Suddenly a hoarse voice spoke over his shoulder, startling him.

"I see you heard about last night's excitement, John" it said, before his boss moved around the desk, taking the visitors chair opposite him. "Quite the event, wasn't it? We had every bloody fool reporter in the city breathing down our necks, waiting for us to slip them some juicy bit of gossip. Idiots!"

He stared at Trav for a few seconds, before leaning forward and continuing. "You look a damn sight better. I need you back here, on this thing, in charge of the investigation. You think you're up to it?"

Trav considered his options. While physically he was back to full strength, the sudden request for his return jolted his loyalties. He knew his work with Triss was crucial, but being offered such a role was flattering. However, given his direct involvement with the "thing" in question, perhaps giving him the position made it too close for comfort. On the other hand, at least under his guiding hand, the investigation could be... redirected... away from matters they shouldn't be considering. Namely, the fact there had been an alien weapons factory operating incognito under their noses!

"Should be fine, Kev", he said, deciding to go with the lesser of evils. He cringed mentally, knowing what Triss might think of his choice, but if the alternate was the possible "outing" of their real mission, Trav was sure he would understand.

The Chief nodded, before turning the conversation away from the prior night's events.

"On other matters, I understand you were "assisted" by an anonymous member of the public during that raid a few months ago? Guy is a hero, saving your sorry arse. What do we need to do about that?"

Trav's internal cringe reached a new level, as he considered what Triss might say about being brought in for questioning. While sure the Krynn had already "arranged" the appropriate documentation covering his "identity", he was sure it wasn't something that would meet with his approval.

"Umm, well, I'm not really sure how to get in touch with him at the moment. He seemed pretty keen on avoiding any recognition for his actions. He..."

But what he was about to say was interrupted by a voice at the entry to his office.

"Hey Trav!" a junior officer called out, passing the Chief an apologetic nod. "Sorry to barge in, but Travers has a visitor at the front desk. Want me to send him through?"

Trav looked at the constable in confusion, before turning back to the Chief, who raised an eyebrow at him "Back only a few hours', and already receiving visitors? Never seen you so popular, huh? Might as well bring him in here"

Trav chuckled, although he was still puzzled who had managed to track him down so soon after his return.

"Sure, Brian. Send him through."

The junior officer nodded, before slipping out and returning to the front desk. Within a minute, he returned, leading Trav's visitor through the maze of desks.

Oh fuck! Trav thought, stunned at the visitor being shown into his office. Standing at the door was Triss, cloaked in his camo, and looking decidedly uncomfortable at being there.

The Chief glanced at Trav, noting the shocked look on his face. Keeping his expression neutral, he reached forward, holding out a hand to the visitor in greeting. "Kevin Williams, Section Chief of the precinct."

Triss looked at the offered hand, hesitating for a brief moment, before returning the handshake. "Tristan Smith", he replied. "Just dropped in to see how Trav was going."

Releasing his hand, the Chief studied his face for a moment, before turning back to Travers. He clenched his fingers around his palm a few times, having absently taken note on the rough palms and light pinpricks against his skin that he'd felt during the contact. Odd, he thought to himself. 30 Years in the force had left him with a deep understanding of the way the world operated, and here was a dilemma that intrigued him.

By this stage, Trav had managed to regain his composure, replying to his boss. "Umm, yeah, Chief. Speak of the devil. Tristan is the person who helped me get out in one piece that night"

Kevin's eyebrows raised further. Curiouser and curiouser he thought, not remembering seeing Trav this uneasy in all the years they'd worked together. More to the point, this nondescript, short, wiry individual seemed incapable of having dealt with the number of assailants the forensics team had reported. A report which had yet to make it past his desk. It had suggested that the criminals had been incapacitated utilising advanced combat techniques, outside the scope of the training he knew for certain that Trav had undertaken. So, if he hadn't taken them out, who had? Not this Tristan fellow, surely?

Thinking quickly, he decided to follow this through, himself, a bit further. Having known Trav for over 20 years, he had an unshakable trust in an officer whom he considered as much a friend as colleague, but his intuition was screaming "wierd"! For Trav to lose his self control in such a way spoke of things yet to be revealed, and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

"Well, seems we owe you for dragging our John's butt out of the firing line" he said, while considering where to direct the conversation. "How about we head to the pub, and it'll be my shout for lunch and a few drinks, and you can fill me in about it?"

Triss turned his eyes on Trav, who had continued to sit silently, watching the pair. Finally, Trav replied "Sounds like a plan, sir. Let me grab my stuff, and we'll head out"

"If you don't mind, I'll need to use the facilities before we go. Mind showing me where they are, John?" said Triss, following Trav from the room, watched by the intent eyes of the Chief.

Trav guided Triss down the hall, towards the toilets, before grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him into an empty office. "Jesus, what the fuck are you doing here?" he hissed. "What were you thinking?"

Triss shook himself from Trav's grip, before shrugging his fur back into shape. "Not my decision, mate. On the way here, I received a response from HQ stating they wanted me to follow up on your work here, ASAP. Believe me, I'd rather be a thousand miles from here right now!"

Trav sighed, before resting back against the wall. "You and me both!" he said. "I'd thought I'd covered for us quite well, but when you showed up like this, it'll raise his suspicions. I know the look he gave you. He KNOWS something is odd, and he won't let up on it till he finds out"

Triss reached out and gripped his friends shoulder firmly. "We'll deal with this, Trav. Don't worry".

Trav looked at him, and gave a wry grin, before gripping the Krynn's arm in return. "I know we will. That's what's worrying me!"

Triss laughed, before pulling Trav from the room. "Well, while you're here, I really do need to take a piss, "John"! Heh. Nice to hear you actually have a real first name, after all. So, unless you want to help, where's the john, John?"

Trav smiled back, pointed down the hall towards the toilets, before beginning to walk towards the locker room to collect his coat. "You're on your own there, "Tristan"!" he said, and was greeted by a laugh retreating down the hall behind him.

Continued in Chapter 6: Exposed to the light.