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Planetary Tales

Smoke wafted up from the campfire, escaping the tiny tree-flanked meadow and vanishing into the orange evening sky.

I tossed a log and some tinder onto the fire, stoking the flames with a piece of rebar as a makeshift poker. Sighing, I flicked the last stub of my redweed cigarette into the fire as well and it was instantly consumed.

Yaleen was sitting on the same log as me, daintily combing out dirt from her bushy tail, from the orange base and all the way to the black tip. She had removed her scarf and veil, exposing her thin face for the world to see.

Lazsh on the other hand, was sitting on a separate log across the campfire, ferociously tearing at chunks of seared meat on a metal skewer with his needle-like fangs and chewing it until it was a fine paste before swallowing. I knew this because he ate with his mouth open, which took away from his bare, muscular chest and the azure scales covering it.

Moments like these were a rare respite from the difficult days of life on Planet. If I thought real hard, I could even trick myself into thinking I was back home on a camping trip with my friends. Of course, I didn't have a Vulpeculan princess or a Lacertan criminal as friends back home, but the atmosphere was the same, even the fact that we had our guns inches away from us at all times was similar, thanks to my crazy brother tagging along and always turning our trips into survivalist expeditions.

Yaleen's ears twitched, folding back and listening. Shortly after, I heard it too: footsteps, loud and without any attempt at concealment. I rubbed the grip of my shotgun, but did not draw it as I turned around.

“Hello stranger!" A hulking orange Regulian with black stripes called out with genuine amicability in his voice, a rarity for Regulians as their language and expressions often made them seem aggressive. He wore a green, camouflage shirt with matching trousers and a rifle was slung around his shoulder.

“Hello," I replied back.

“We saw the campfire and were wondering if we might join you."

“We?"

A Vulpeculan, red-furred and with a cream muzzle, stepped out from behind a tree. He was unarmed and wearing a tan duster that was caked in grime. I looked carefully at his eyes…

“It's not him," Yaleen whispered, noticing me staring. Sure enough, this one's eyes were a pale amber.

The Vulpeculan sniffed at the air, locking his black nose onto Yaleen, “It's her, the Princess!"

I pulled back the hammer on my shotgun.

Smiling, which made the Regulian look more unnerving, he held up his paws, “We're not here for the bounty. We've business on the west coast and have no interest in getting involved with the Regulians."

“That's right!" The Vulpeculan said, taking a slow whiff of the air. “She just had such a lovely scent and..."

“Keep it in your trousers and we'll consider letting you stay," Yaleen growled lightly.

“Promise!"

Sighing, I motioned them forward, “We'll hold onto your rifle. Come and sit."

“Very good!" The Regulian happily surrendered his weapon. “Come, Yelus!"

The Regulian took his spot on the log next to Lazsh, introduced himself as Gretho and continued chattering jollily. Hot air brushed against the inside of my ear, and I turned to see that Yelus had sat next to me and was now taking a good sniff. I ignored him.

Gretho rambled, explaining that he ran into Yelus two days ago and they were both heading to Brine. Some bone-head had built a ship and they planned on sailing to another continent; they were to join them on the expedition. It would be dangerous, they could run into storms, anomalies, or hell, the Regulians might just decide to use their ship as target practice, but Gretho said they had to do it.

“Adventure, that's why," Gretho beamed proudly. “That's what I live for! Nothing makes you feel freer!"

“We're in a prison," I said.

“Aye, but a prison planet," Yelus said, “Before the Regulians vassalized Beta Vulpeculae, we didn't even have airplanes. Did that make us prisoners?"

“I think your slaves might think so."

Yaleen glared at me for a second. Yelus simply laughed.

“And we are not slaves, so long as we strive forward!" Gretho exclaimed, raising his index finger. “The stories I could tell you..."

“Tell the one about the woods again!" Yelus grinned, revealing a mouth missing all four of his fangs.

“Alright, but only if our hosts share a story as well!"

Gretho didn't give a chance for us to agree.

Let me tell you a tale of action, adventure, and love!

Once upon a time there was a human, hair as fair as golden wheat and skin as soft as silk. Destined to become my mate, he was and knew this!

But alas, there was a rival for his affections! A fellow prisoner of Planet, a Regulian named Haloth.

His mane was thick as his muscles. But I had the drive and the passion for my mate!

So I challenged him to a contest. Whomever could lift the greatest weight would earn my mate's love.

Tried as I might, I could not beat my rival, whom lifted up a fallen log above his head and spun it around. He made off with my mate, disappearing into the woods.

I would not let this stand! I crept into his camp and into his tent, planted my paw upon my mate's mouth and bade him to follow me out.

Then I smashed a jar of concentrated Vulpeculan musk onto the ground. Let me tell you! You may have found the scent of a fair Vulpy maid or man appealing, but my rival did not agree with that opinion and was soon gasping and screaming for an escape from the musky haze that surrounded him. By the time he shook it off, I was long gone and enjoying my mate's company. He was grateful for my rescue of him.

Alas, my rival was not intent on giving up! He took revenge upon my noble venture! While I slept, arm wrapped around my mate, I was awoken by a scent more foul than a Vulpeculan's nether regions: smoke! I rushed outside the tent to find my supplies ablaze!

It did not take long for me to smother the flames with dirt, but it was long enough for my rival! I soon found that I was alone.

The next day, I approached my rival's camp, finding the knave hunched over my mate, whom was bound and gagged. I challenged him right then and there, for that is the kind of Regulian I am!

We tore our clothes off and began to fight claw to claw. Blood was spilled but I could not best him! I took off into the woods, mocking him as I ran. Oh no, I was no coward, but I knew he was hot-headed and this was his weakness!

With a sprint and a leap, I came to a stop in front of the wall of a tall ravine. Cornered! My rival was gaining on me and he sprinted forward, closing in on me…

But he did not leap and soon found himself at the bottom of my pit-trap! The sound of his chest slapping against the stakes lurking at the bottom brought a grin to my face. Looming over, I found it was even better than I had imagined.

A wooden, bloody stake was sticking out right from his chest, just below the ribs! Yes, the diaphragm! He'd be lying there for a good, long while as he struggled to breath. I'd have to watch him to make sure he wouldn't be back for revenge. Oh, how fascinating it was! Seeing the foam collecting in the corner of his mouth, first white and then red; of his chest weakening, followed by bursts of strength! Just imagine what he was thinking! What his brain, his body was going through as his life was sapped away! Why, I almost wanted him to say something! I wanted to open up his mind, see just what he was thinking at that moment!

I know not how long it took, but finally, finally his chest heaved one last time and I left, looking for adventure.

Yelus's maw flew open in uncontrollable laughter, revealing rows of jagged teeth, plenty of which were missing. His high-pitched laugh was enough to break glass and with me sitting next to him, it was getting extremely concerning. I could only imagine how irritating it was to Yaleen's sharp ears.

Speaking of her, Yaleen was staring at me with her piercing green eyes.

Ignoring Yelus for a second, an increasingly difficult task as he began to slap the back of my shoulder, I whispered to Yaleen, taking heed that Yelus's pointed ears were flattened and not paying close attention.

“These guys don't seem right."

“You're the one who invited them," she replied back, rolling her eyes.

I jumped as something wet poked against my cheek. Turning, I saw Yelus retract his muzzle away with a smirk. His paw rubbed against my leg and he whispered. “You can be my mate tonight."

I slapped his hand away, causing Yelus to giggle. Annoyed and a little concerned by the behavior of our visitors, I felt that the only thing I could do to keep things under control was to distract them. If I was certain that they were unarmed, I would have kicked them all out by now, but the fact was that they were confident and euphoric, which spoke of either great insanity or that they were concealing a weapon that we didn't know about and were really laughing at us. Either way, I needed to distract them.

“I have a story."

“Ah!" Gretho exclaimed. Even across from the fire, his disingenuous smile never vanished for a second. “Please, tell us!"

“Make sure it's as exciting as Gretho's!" Yelus said, nearly breaking out into laughter one more time.

In truth, I hoped it would calm our disturbing guests down a bit.

I don't really care if you believe this story or not. In truth, I don't know if I believe it or not. I've seen many strange things on Planet, but this one is by far the strangest of them all.

It wasn't long after I woke on Planet for the first time. I had been traveling with a Lupiad who showed me the ropes. He was a good guy, even if he made it clear he was my alpha at all times. Fact was, military or not, I was helpless when I got here.

It was a shame when he stepped onto the anomaly in the desert and got launched into the air. I was alone in the middle of the desert and he had most of our supplies.

For the first time since landing on Planet, I had to rely only on myself and my foggy memories of my military days for survival.

Then I saw something strange: a wooden shack in the middle of the sandy flatland. It was impossible, there wasn't a tree for hours away and who would even think of making their dream-shack here?

Still, it was there and it was real. I ran up and placed my hand on the splintery door and flung it open.

Dominating the dimly-lit shack was an oval mirror that was about six feet tall and black as obsidian next to a pile of rags. I thought it was just the lack of light, but when I whipped out my flashlight and shined the beam straight at it, it was still pitch black with no reflection.

I jumped as the bundle of rags moved suddenly. It was not merely a pile, but a...man? A woman? Their robes fluttered as they sprung to life, tall hood wrapped around their face, if they even had a face to begin with. I could not see their face nor see if they had a tail, and there was no musk hanging in the air. If it weren't for their voice, I wouldn't have imagined there was a person there at all, movement or not.

“Who stands before me?" Their voice was monotone but it was, to my surprise, in perfect Polish. Not a hint was revealed through their voice of their gender let alone their species.

“Pawel Lis," I said, swallowing nervously.

“No," the figure muttered, robes shivering. “No you're not."

“What are you talking about?"

Their arm, if you could call it that, for as much as I could see it was just an oversized sleeve, pointed towards the mirror.

“Look," they beckoned, a chuckle rasping under its hood. “Come and see, he who calls himself 'Pawel Lis.' Come and see the truth, no, come and see what you see, and tell me the truth, yes, tell me the truth of what you see. Of you past, present, and future..."

Were this any other person on any other day, I would have bolted out of there. Perhaps it was the shock of having lost the man who took me under his wing, perhaps it was just to avoid the hot sun, or perhaps this warlock put a spell on me. Regardless of the truth, I stepped in front of the mirror.

Deep into that endless void I stared. The void became my world, for when I got close enough it encompassed my entire sight. I saw nothing, yet I could not tear myself away.

Suddenly, I was there, staring back at me with wide, frozen eyes. I gasped, but the reflection did not budge an inch, continuing to look at me with a dead gaze.

My reflection began to blur. I rubbed at my eyes only to find that when my sight returned, not only was the image still blurry, but it was shrinking. It stopped shrinking when it was only a few inches tall and then abruptly became clear.

It was now a red fox kit. Not a Vulpeculan, but a normal, four-legged fox. It continued staring at me with its amber eyes until a massive tan paw reached down and patted him on the head, prompting the fox to sniff and lick at its master's hand. Two digitigrade legs stepped in from the right and then exited at the left, revealing something hidden far off in the background of the mirror. I squinted and leaned in close, almost shouting when I realized what it was.

Two foxes, a mated pair, with their necks twisted and lying lifelessly on the ground. Oblivious to what had happened, the kit happily bounced off, following his master closely behind.

All was black again. My stomach ached and fear welled up in my throat. I didn't want to continue watching. I wanted to get out of there and leave this warlock and his damned mirror behind. But I couldn't break the spell.

Trumpets blared as a golden crown flew towards me, stopping just before it engulfed the entire mirror. It lingered there for some time and the trumpets never silenced themselves for a second.

As suddenly as the crown had appeared, it vanished, and was replaced by black and white, grainy film footage of two men in safari outfits with rifles firing at something off-screen. Their gunfire ceased and one of the men slapped the other on the shoulder, beaming proudly. The camera panned to the left, revealing a massive lion lying on the ground, bullet holes riddled in its weakly heaving chest.

The mirror was black again. Once again, I wanted to run and this time I could have sworn I was about to, but something told me that this would all be over, that it would all be worth it in the end.

A green hexagon popped up in the middle of the screen. I stared at it for a few seconds in confusion, not knowing what it was supposed to be. Six others appeared around it, followed by even more showing up around those, until the entire mirror was covered in scales. Shortly after, the very first scale turned translucent, revealing a computer chip.

Abruptly, it vanished and just as suddenly, the tower came into view. The same one the Regulian military occupied that overlooked Planet, or at least, whatever continent we were on. Ivory white and lined with illuminated windows, it pierced the jet black sky. Lying at the bottom was something more abnormal: a human skull resting against the side of a canine skull, of which I could not tell whether it was Sirian, Lupiad, or Vulpeculan. Gradually, the lights in the windows of the tower flickered off one by one and then a shooting star shot out from the top of the tower.

Then there was nothing.

I pushed myself away from the mirror. I should have smashed the cursed thing, but I feared what the warlock would have done to me if I had.

“What did you learn?" He asked. “Tell me!"

“I don't know," I replied.

The hood lowered in shame. “Disappointing."

Light burst into my eyes, blinding me. I shut my eyelids and starting swinging my fists, hoping to take the warlock down, but none of them struck true for there was no warlock, nor any shack, nor mirror. I opened my eyes to find myself alone with nothing but the shifting sands of the desert for company.

“That never happened!" Yaleen yelled, slapping me lightly on the shoulder.

“It did, I swear!" I said, slapping her shoulder back. I had a feeling that back on Beta Vulpeculae, she would have had someone like me executed for doing that, but all she did was chuckle slightly, green eyes narrowed with mischief.

“There's no such thing as wizards!"

“There's a lot of strange things on Planet. Perhaps God himself lurks here somewhere?"

“Someone please talk some sense into him!" Yaleen pleaded to the rest of the campmates. My story, and it was a true story, for your information; had worked, we were now all focused on the events of it rather than the concerning behavior of our visitors.

“Wonderful story, Pawel!" Gretho clapped. I had noticed that his smile never left his lips for a second during the story. “And my dear Princess, anything can happen on Planet! Those who doubt Planet's power will inevitably end up facing the worst it has to offer!"

“Personally, I didn't like it that much," Yelus snidely remarked, scratching at an itch on his leg. “I would have ripped the robes off of that warlock and you know what I'd have done to him?"

“I don't..."

“I'd have fucked him until he spoke normally," Yelus said with disturbing pride, holding his muzzle high in the air. “Let me..."

“My turn," Lazsh suddenly broke his silence. “I have a story."

No one argued with him. Only Yelus grumbled a bit, but he was soon silent as the Lacertan stood up and began.

I walked on the road.

Fought men and women.

Hunted gold and goods.

I roamed to Haven.

Fought. Claws, teeth, and guns.

But I lost. Wounded.

Left to die. They laughed.

Blood was on the grass.

Death called out for me.

Green scales. Strong and bold.

Came around. Saved me.

I stood up. Embraced him.

I walk on the road.

Fight men and women.

I am not alone, Sirth.

We were left awestruck at the large reptile as he silently took his seat back on the log.

“That was a poem," I said.

“Yes," Lazsh replied.

“You write poetry?"

“Yes."

“That was in Regulian," Yaleen interjected.

“Originally in Lacertan. I translated it moments before," Sirth took a bite of meat, quickly chewing and swallowing it. “I am not pleased with the results."

“No, it was great!" I said. Truthfully, it was pretty clumsy sounding, but I couldn't write a poem let alone translate one on the spot.

“Thank you," Lazsh nodded.

Right on cue, Yelus interrupted the solemn moment with his yappy voice. “My turn! I get to tell the story next!"

This was not good. I had a few good ideas about what his story would entail and I was not looking forward to it. On the other hand, Yaleen would still have a turn after him and hopefully she could tell a more positive story, hopefully not one about her mistreating a servant who slighted her.

“Go on," Yaleen said, leaning forward and gazing at the red-furred Vulpeculan.

“Oh, I shall, Princess. I think you will enjoy it!"

Back on Beta Vulpeculae, I was a Prince among Princes. I owned an army of slaves who heeded my every service, from washing my feet to polishing my cock. I sat atop a throne cast from solid gold and every week I would hold audiences.

You think I'm lying! I can smell your doubt! But I tell you, my memories were not lost! I remember it all clear as day.

I digress! It was at one such audience where this story began. Resting my feet atop the back of a handsome slave while his sister put her tongue to work on my shaft, I saw a woman walk in.

She bowed to me, as so many have, but then introduced herself as Princess Tia and asked for my support in a succession war. Her brother, the rightful heir, had gone mad and demanded her hand in marriage or he would have her head cut off. She escaped and was looking for someone to give her an army.

Smiling, I told her: “I will give you an army large enough to conquer the planet, but only if you marry me."

She agreed right away, after all, what woman wouldn't want to be my bride? I already had many wives and many, many concubines, all of whom were well taken care of and enjoyed my erotic assault.

Her family name, you ask? Why, Asyi, of course!

I then asked her to give me some collateral and ordered her to take off her clothes. She obeyed and I pushed my slave out of the way as she climbed atop me, straddling my cock with her thighs.

Oh, the things she did! She was a princess, but she was as submissive as a slave and her cunt was like a vice, even before my knot had grown! If I hadn't wanted her land, I'd have her collared and kneeling on the ground, tongue lolling out, and begging for my cock.

I was a man of honor and had my best general lead the army. We crushed her brother's forces, capturing him after the first battle. I took him from behind like the bitch he was for all to see, which was an unpopular move, but I cared not. It was my right as a Prince.

I took my seat on her family's throne, with her at my side as my new bride, and her brother's concubines surrounding me, tending to my every needs.

I frowned as the story came to a close. It was exactly the kind of story I expected from Yelus, but somehow it displayed a level of sexual frustration and exaggeration that made Gretho's story seem like a family-friendly yarn. Lazsh and Gretho were staring at the Vulpeculan, if the former were capable of normal facial expressions, he would have been frowning just like me; while the latter was smiling as usual but gave no sign that he would have preferred to be frowning.

Yaleen on the other hand was smiling for real. A wide smile that nearly reached her pointed ears. Her eyes were narrowed, locked onto Yelus.

“Enjoy the tale, Princess."

“I must confess, I was not aware I was in the presence of nobility!"

“Indeed you are," Yelus rubbed at his thigh with his black paw. “How about it?"

“What might you be inquiring about?" She whispered coyly.

“I've seen you looking at me," he chuckled, climbing over me and taking his spot next to her. “How about it? You'd be my first wife on Planet."

“But I don't even know your house name?"

“Aksen, of Dune's End," he whispered huskily, placing her paw in his palm and nuzzling it with his black nose.

“Oh my, the Aksen family?" Yaleen fanned herself with her free hand. “Well, I am already promised to another..."

“Surely my house is more worthy, hm?" He looked up at her, his amber eyes betraying no sign of affection, only lust and not well-intentioned lust at that. I made sure my gun was close at hand.

Yaleen put a claw to her lip. “Tell you what, I shall tell a story..."

“Ah, one to set the mood?"

“No, no!" Yaleen chuckled. She seemed to have things under control, all things considered, but I was worried she was getting in over her head again. “A normal story. If everyone around the campfire agrees that your story is superior to mine, I shall marry you and Pawel shall be our faithful slave."

“Hey!" I yelled. I knew she had no intention of honoring any deal with this mangy Vulpeculan and I didn't believe for a second that she thought he was royalty, but I still didn't appreciate her putting my life on the line.

“And if I win, you shall do whatever I please."

“Deal!" He exclaimed happily. There was not a single ounce of awareness that the only person at the campfire that liked his story was his Regulian friend.

“Very good. I think even you will admit this one is a fascinating tale."

It was three years ago on Beta Vulpeculae, in the Foreign Quarter of Regulus Hill. A series of aliens, visiting the planet as tourists, were found raped and murdered. The twisted soul behind this left a note with each body, proclaiming in broken Vulpeculan that they would serve him in the afterlife for all eternity.

This went on for two months, until the number of victims reached fifteen. Fifteen would turn out to be this disturbed person's unlucky number.

It was often speculated that the man behind the crimes was a criminal genius. Perhaps a Prince who roamed the streets of the city at night incognito, or perhaps an angry nationalist who hated the idea of aliens lording themselves over him. It turned out we were wrong, the man behind this was not a genius, nor even of average intelligence. He was just a local leather crafter who fancied himself Emperor of the universe and managed to get away due to the crippling incompetence of the local police force who had mismanaged crime scenes and evidence to such a degree that the only way they could save face was to spread lies about him being a genius.

He got caught red-handed on number fifteen and was arrested promptly. He cried the whole time as he was led away.

Even when in court, he never stopped crying. He begged for clemency at the foot of the judge, praying to every god that he could think of. He would never do it again, he cried!

He avoided the death sentence by promising to tell the whereabouts of two missing women so that their remains could be collected and buried according to their family's desires. He was to have his mind altered and conditioned, sentenced to life on a prison planet.

But the law wasn't done with him. The court had given him leniency, but the police and the doctors running the conditioning clinic held him in such contempt that they crafted him a special new personality. One taken from a porn flick, “The Depraved House of Aksen," a film about the violent sexual escapades of a Vulpeculan Prince. It was billed as straight porn, but received bad reviews for a sudden and detailed gay scene at the end.

This was their punishment: to give this man who saw himself as God the ultimate delusion, one that he would not abandon as soon as he was caught, and cast down onto a planet of hardened criminals who wouldn't take his shit for a second.

Some say that on his first night, he tried to claim his first concubine but was instead captured himself. His captor ripped out his fangs to make his mouth more accessible and took him along, using him the whole...

“NO!"

Yelus shrieked, bolting to his feet. His heart was pounding heavily, I could hear it even over the roaring of the fire and his screams.

“What's the matter, Yelus? Don't you like the story?" Yaleen said with a wild smirk on her muzzle.

His head began to quiver and then shake violently. Clutching at his temples, he attempted to stabilize it, but it only grew worse.

“LIES! IT'S ALL…!" Something wet and gooey began to trickle down his black nose, staining his cream muzzle crimson. Blood.

“What the hell is going on!?" I demanded, grabbing my shotgun and leveling it at Yelus.

With a final rattle of his throat, Yelus's nose spat out a thick glob of blood and then he collapsed on the dirt like a sack of potatoes. His leg twitched a few times and then he was still.

“Looks like the truth set him free," Yaleen shrugged, fiddling with her claws.

“You'd better talk," Lazsh ordered, stomping towards us and looming over the petite Vulpeculan. “What did you do!?"

“I merely told a story about a notorious rapist and murderer's conviction, then spun a little tale about his life on the planet he was sentenced to," Yaleen grinned, showing off her ivory fangs. “It would seem that Yelus turned out to be said individual. I knew it was him as soon as he gave us a plot synopsis of that terrible little piece of cinematic erotica."

“No," Lazsh's claw grabbed Yaleen by the throat. To her credit, she did not flinch for a second. “What happened to him!?"

“It was a theory about the conditioning I learned from one of the Regulians I, ahem, met with to learn about Planet. When memory conditioning is as vast and detailed as the ones applied to the people on Planet, it can cause issues when the subject is faced with details about their true self. This could potentially result in severe headaches, nausea, anxiety, or brain aneurysms."

Me and Lazsh stared at her, the shock of this revelation stunning us into silence. We all knew that extensive alterations had been done to us, but never did we have any clue that it went this far. This was it, the final lock on our cell. If, for whatever reason, we found a way off of Planet and made it back to our homeworld, there was a chance of running into someone who knew us from before and if we did, we'd be dead just like Yelus was.

But Yaleen promised me that I'd get my old memories back. If I got them back, then maybe it'd be fine.

Yaleen gave me a nod and somehow I knew it meant that we'd talk later. I took a deep breath and sighed.

“It doesn't matter then," Lazsh said, releasing his grip around Yaleen's neck. He waved a claw at her face, tapping it against the tip of her nose, severely testing what he could get away with when dealing with her. “Don't do that again."

“I shan't get this lucky twice. Rest assured, I know of no crime stories regarding Lacertan gang members nor humans with a strange, slurring accent. Your pasts are a mystery to all."

“And they shall remain that way," Lazsh nodded.

Gretho suddenly clapped heartily and spoke with a cheer. “Excellent story! Truly excellent! Better than his, indeed!"

Silently and swiftly, I swung my shotgun around at Gretho who stared back at it, smile still plastered on.

“You need to leave."

His round eyes locked with mine, betraying no emotion. I waited for his expression to turn, for him to make a leap, to attack. He never did.

“Very well!" He stood up and dusted off his clothes. He turned to Yaleen. “May I take Yelus with me?"

“Please do."

Gretho clomped over to his fallen friend and with a swoop, lifted him up and hoisted him on his shoulder. He then left the campground and into the woods, his deceased friend's bushy tail slapping against his back the whole time.

“It would be a shame to waste it..." was the last thing we heard from the Regulian before he vanished into the night.

Gretho was unarmed as far as we knew, having left his rifle, but the unsettling feeling that he could be lurking in the brush and watching us remained. The atmosphere was just as oppressive as when him and his friend were here, telling us their twisted stories, because now we had to make up the details ourselves: of what weapons he might have been holding and how he could kill us with them, and worst of all, what he was doing with his friend's corpse.

“I'll take the first watch," I said, gripping my gun and peering around the perimeter.

“Not a chance, flat-face," Yaleen said, withdrawing her needler and making sure it was loaded. “You humans are blind at night and your noses are useless. I'll watch. I'll stay up all night if I have to."

“I think we should go for a drive," Lazsh suggested.

It was getting dark, but the headlights of the Hauler would be enough for us to navigate the night. We could get far enough so that Gretho wouldn't stand any chance of catching up with us.

“Yeah, that's not a bad idea," I muttered, beginning to pack up our stuff. “Day's still young. Faster we get to Rust, the better."

We encountered no trouble from our former campmate, nor did he make his presence known to us. But the uneasy feeling remained and never left us until we were far behind our old campground.