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Not The Enemy

Brolath felt like he hadn’t caught a moment of sleep in the past week so it was no surprised to him when he passed out shortly after the Duchess’ lift-copter took off from Nova Heryana and sped along the endless waves of trees and grassland below that danced in the early dawn.

Blinking slowly, Brolath woke to find Leon tucked into his side, head resting on his chest. The small human’s chest rose and fell slowly before he shivered and Brolath hugged him tight and wrapped his tail around his waist.

How long had it been now? The days were starting to blend into each other since they left the Autonomous Communes and flew from one end of the world to the other.

And now they were flying back the way they came.

Yora was still wide awake and piloting the vehicle while Rorgh was dozing away with his muzzle pressed into her lap.

Brolath looked out the window at and endless sea of yellowing grass while a rusty old railroad stretched on into the distance. There was something striking about the decay here, like it was a part of humanity’s past that had been long forgotten and abandoned once the Regulian Empire had taken over.

There was a small shack sitting to the side of the railroad, perhaps an old switch operator’s station? Brolath took out his datapad and snapped a few pictures, silently wishing that he was on the ground and could have gotten a better view.

“Mmm...”

Brolath jolted as Leon tugged at his mane.

“My lion...” Leon yawned, “...what are you doing?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Brolath whispered. “I’m taking reference pictures for painting.”

“Painting?” Leon blinked. “You paint?”

“Landscapes, mostly.”

“You never mentioned.”

“I...” Brolath paused, leaning back in his chair, “...I thought I had.”

“Usually when we talk it’s quite focused on intimate matters.”

“I really thought that...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Leon closed his eyes and laughed, “it’s not expected in my career, you know?”

Brolath looked out the window at the landscape below, feeling a little ashamed.

“I wanted to be an artist myself, you know?”

Brolath turned back to Leon and curled the tip of his tail, “Really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to make my mark on the Communes and be a graffiti artist, stuff that really connects with people: their anger, their frustration...”

“Graffiti is a crime.”

“And you’ve committed a crime, in my oh-so-humble opinion, of holding out on your art!” Leon leaned over Brolath and reached for the datapad, which Brolath pulled away. “I’d love to see it!”

“It’s, uh...” Brolath swiped the screen, unlocking it, and clicked on the gallery option, “...it’s just nice paintings, they don’t have any...any meaning...”

Reluctantly, Brolath let Leon snatch the datapad. The Regulian looked away, closing his eyes and dreading what his human had to say about his work.

“The colors! Wow!”

Brolath slowly turned back and opened his eyes, shocked to find that Leon staring in awe at a garishly colored desert valley with bright pink sand and a palm tree with a red trunk and neon green leaves.

“It looks like another dimension,” Leon gasped, switching to another painting of Lake Asher, it’s vibrant blue waters surrounded by green sand that almost looked like grass, were it not for the grainy brushstrokes. “Where is this?”

“Regulus Prime,” Brolath idly twiddled with his claws, trying to avoid looking at Leon. “It was before my retinal implants and I made my own paints, the colors are...”

“Breathtaking! My lion, these are fascinating!” Leon began rapidly scrolling through the gallery. “Perhaps it’s a commentary on our perception? How just a mere chance of biology can make it feel like one is living in another world...”

“Regulus Prime doesn’t look like that, besides, it wasn’t my intention...” Brolath cleared his throat, “...I just thought it looked nice.”

“It does, but it also means something even if you didn’t realize it! You could sell these to a gallery on Earth! You made your own paints based on your own colorblindness and created a new world, people would love to see that!”

“You know...” Brolath put aside his bashfulness and edged closer to Leon, nuzzling against his head, “...they look nicer in person.”

“I’ll bet...”

“And it might be nice if you could see the places that I drew.”

“Tempting...”

As strange as it sounded, there was a peculiar hominess to the wrecked spaceship the Lacertans had confined Abel to. It was pitch-black, at least whenever Lashar wasn’t there and opened his bright eyes, and there was absolutely nothing to do; but at the same time being locked up there was an excuse not to think about all the bad things going on in the world. Abel was a prisoner of the Lacertans and he was, for the moment, not in danger from the Guards or the Claw.

All he could do was lay down and rest, which was exactly what he needed.

Who ever knew being a POW could be so relaxing?

Guilt began to wrack Abel’s stomach, if only for a moment. It seemed slightly cruel that he be treated so softly when other POWs and slaves across the galaxy were suffering.

The door squealed and Lashar poked his dark face in.

“Abel, I’m going to take you on a patrol of the woods.”

Abel raised and eyebrow at the Lacertan standing above him, “That doesn’t sound normal for a prisoner.”

“Asha has his own route he’ll be patrolling, so one of us needs to babysit you.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of being locked up? That I can’t escape or get into trouble?”

“We don’t want to leave you alone with Taas.”

Abel nodded and stood up without question. Their superior was more than a little unsettling and clearly mad. Abel did not want to be around if he began to have thoughts about eating human meat again.

“One more thing,” Lashar whispered as he led Abel through the door. “Asha will ask a favor of you, please accept.”

“What does he want?”

“Nothing like what he usually asks, he needs-”

“Agent.”

Lashar darted his head in the direction of his Captain’s voice. The green Lacertan was standing there with his body armor and shirt removed, revealing an even more physically powerful chest than Lashar. His emerald-green scales were parted by several pale scars darting along his chest.

“Captain,” Lashar bowed deep with a swish of his hand. It was a sarcastic joke, Abel presumed, though he still could not grasp Lacertan subtleties, “I was just fetching the prisoner.”

“Human,” Asha pushed past Lashar, staring down at the human with cold, green eyes.

Abel felt like a child compared to Asha. The Lacertan was not that much taller than Abel but his tone and physical prowess were intimidating. A weaker man would have quivered but Abel stopped himself.

“I would like to hug you,” Asha said bluntly.

Lashar nodded quickly at Abel while his superior was focused on the human.

“Okay,” Abel said.

In the short time he knew the Lacertans, he knew that they were direct to a fault and if Asha was asking for a hug, he wanted a hug. If Asha wanted anything more he would have said so.

And really, what harm was there in a hug?

Abel wrapped his arms around the Lacerten, who immediately pulled him into a bear hug. His scales were smooth and cold, very alien to what a warm-blooded mammal such as Abel would expect from an embrace but at the same time Abel could feel his body warming the lizard and though it was one-sided, it felt good that he was sharing something enjoyable.

“Soft,” Asha clicked his tongue and stiffly released Abel. “Thank you.”

Lashar tugged Abel by the sleeve, “Come on, smoothskin!”

Asha’s green eyes were locked on Abel as the human was nearly dragged outside. Abel was not quite sure what was going on with Asha, his facial expressions were even more inscrutable than Lashar’s but there was weight to his body language as if he had just committed something of extreme importance.

Rounding the wreck, Lashar walked up to a steel container and fling the lid open.

“What was that all about?” Abel asked.

“He wanted a hug,” Lashar replied as he rummaged through the container.

Was he scent-marking me? Marking me as his property? Lashar said something about his venom, could it be his skin secreted a chemical used to control me?

“Why?”

“Because he was feeling sad.”

Abel pursed his lips and went silent, feeling a bit like a jackass.

“Here,” Lashar tossed a pile of cloth at Abel, who barely caught it.

Unraveling what Abel could only describe as a hooded poncho made of some kind of plastic fabric, Abel began putting it on.

“You’re wearing the most advanced dynamic camouflage that Logos has to offer,” Lashar threw a similar cloak over his shoulders and drew the hood up over his head. The gray fabric immediately blurred and took on the colors of the forest, like an octopus hiding on the sea floor.

“Fascinating,” Abel looked down at his own cloak which had done the same.

“When was the last time the Regulians gave you something this cool, huh?” Lasha flicked his tongue and rested his rifle atop his shoulder. “Let’s roll out.”

Lashar led the way out of the camp and into the woods, following a narrow trail between tall trees, avoiding the open plains as much as he could. There would be no mercy for Lashar if he was found, the Regulians took no Lacertans prisoner and even if they did, it would only be to extract information before killing him.

The Lacertans were drones, mere shells created by the evil AI Logos. That’s what Abel was told.

But that wasn’t what Abel saw.

Lashar was a bit of a slacker and liked to make jokes. Asha was rigid and soldierly but there was a strange side to him that Abel could not quite grasp. Both were prone to occasionally debating bizarre doctrine as handed down to them by an AI God, yes, but was that any reason to deny their individuality?

It would be the ultimate revolt against Regulian domination: to merely declare that Lacertans are people too.

It would not change the war but it would stop Abel from falling into the moral depravity the Regulian Empire lowers itself to when talking about the Lacertans.

The ground grew damp. While Abel had been lost in thoughts, they had entered a swamp that had murky mist floating around them. Mosquitos and blackflies almost blotted out the sun and Abel found himself jealous of Lashar, whom the insects seemed to ignore completely.

“There’s something you should know, Abel,” Lashar came to a stop, his tail slowly lashing. “I was given an order.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to do it, okay? So don’t freak out when I tell you, okay?”

Abel swallowed, “You were told to kill me.”

“Commander Taas had a moment of lucidity and realized there was really no point in keeping you around as a prisoner. I could not argue against the logic but...” Lashar turned around and lowered his rifle to the ground, “...managing one’s emotions is logical as well and it would...hurt me to harm you.”

Lashar looked off to the side, “It would hurt Asha as well, that is why he wanted to hug you. He thought he would never see you again and he was right, but not for the reasons Taas intended.”

Waving off to the distance, Lashar stepped to the side, “There’s a very small town about two days east of here and a cottage a day before, possibly abandoned. It won’t be easy but you’ll have a chance.”

Abel found his eyes watering, “You’re letting me go?”

“I’m sorry that I can’t guide you there,” Lashar tiltled his head back in the direction of the camp. “I’d only cause you harm if you were discovered with a Lacertan.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t need to say anything, just go on, live,” Lashar laughed. “Your eyes seem to be leaking.”

“No they’re not,” Abel sniffed and wiped his eye. “I mean, I didn’t expect...”

Perhaps this was all an advanced interrogation...make the human let his guard down...it’s something the Claw would do, why not the Lacertans?

Fuck it.

Abel wrapped his arms around the Lacertan and buried his head against his chest armor. Clawed hands patted Abel on the back.

It was foolish and weak to let down his guard in front of an alien invader but his heart could not stand it. If they wanted to make Abel the revolutionary cry, they succeeded.

“Fuck,” Abel sniffed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lashar rubbed Abel’s back.

“What a goddamn mess.”

Yora shook her head as she exited the lift-copter and observed the crater in the ground where a trail of dust and mangled metal lagged behind. A servant attached a regal blue cape to her shoulder and she responded by giving the human a friendly sniff on the cheek. The young female human blushed and stepped away.

“Careful, Adjunct Rorgh!” Leon whispered. “I think she likes that human!”

“She’s the Duchess, she can do what she likes with her property,” Rorgh shrugged. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind watching those two or joining in.”

“You’re the worst!” Leon playfully slapped Rorgh on the shoulder.

Brolath grumbled. Leon was being a bit too friendly with Rorgh again. He knew it was nothing but there was no stopping the annoyance building up in his gut.

Yora stood atop the crater and looked down into it while her guard trailed behind. The Duchess clearly liked to lead from the front.

“Omnidevourer indeed,” she twitched her black nose and sniffed. “Long gone by now.”

“We’ve found scraps of wreckage from a train, your grace,” a scrawny Lupiad soldier bowed. “No signs of the serial number, not much remains.”

“Thank you, soldier,” she pounded her chest in salute and motioned for Brolath to approach.

“No sign of the human?” Brolath asked.

“If he was on the train he’s fertilizer by now,” Yora shook her head. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

Brolath looked around what remained of the tracks. There were no electric lines for the trains to run off of, not even a trace of them.

“What do you think the train ran off of? A nuclear reactor?” Brolath asked.

“Most of the trains in these parts would be diesel powered!” Leon piped in.

Yora nodded at the human, “The glass thief is correct. It’s fuel made from crude oil.”

“Liquid then?”

“Correct.”

Brolath sniffed at the air, “Any signs of a spill?”

Yora flicked her ear and waved over the same soldier as before, “Any signs of a fuel spill?”

“No, your grace!”

“Dismissed,” Yora closed her eyes and turned to Brolath. “I think I see where you’re going.”

“Unless the Omnidevourer swallowed up the diesel engine with one gulp, there should be at least some fuel spilled on the ground, but I don’t smell anything of the sort.”

Rorgh nodded, “So there’s a chance the might have decoupled the cars and Abel might be alive?”

“If this is even the same train,” Brolath sighed, “but yes.”

Leon stood on his toes and kissed Brolath on the tip of his nose, “My lion is so smart!”

Brolath wrapped his arms and tail around Leon.

Their embrace would not lost long. A sharp tone rang out from an earpiece attached to Yora’s right ear and she pressed her finger to it.

“Yes?” she spoke.

Yora’s tail fluffed up and her hackles went straight up.

“Fire mission, now. Cleanse the area.”

She released her finger and marched past Brolath as all of the soldiers listened to their earpieces before immediately hustling back to their liftcopters.

“What’s going on?” Brolath asked, fast-walking behind the Duchess.

“Your mission is going to have to wait, I’m sorry,” she said, sharply, without looking behind.

Brolath stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Get out of the way,” Yora ordered.

Putting his tail between his legs, he obeyed the Duchess and stepped aside, but continued trailing behind her.

“If you must know,” Yora announced as she stepped onto the liftcopter. “Lacertans have been spotted north of here.”

“On Earth!?” Rorgh exclaimed. “How!?”

“Shoot first, ask questions later,” Yora said as the jets began to heat up. “But since there won’t be any survivors, I’m guessing there won’t be any questions.”