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"A Path of Thunder"

Part One: Predator and Prey

The predator's claws clacked loudly on the smooth, metallic floors as he raced towards his meeting.

As if in a hunt, his body tilted forward, arms drawn close to his torso while his stiffened tail bounced slightly with each step. The feathers on his head swayed in the air, his head bobbing up and down slightly as each step of his toned legs carried his lithe, black body forward. Nostrils constantly opened to exhale copious used air, then took in an equal amount of fresh oxygen to fuel the blood pumped throughout his body.

Several saurian bodies of different sizes and species occupied the hallways, but he was not after any of them. Rather, he skirted among those who did not move out of his way, twisting and turning his path without slowing down or missing a step.

Curious eyes turned to gaze at the fleet-footed saurian. For many, it would mean the first and possibly the only time they would ever gaze upon one of his species. Even rarer was his rather attractive jet-black skin. Along with his dark jumpsuit -- broken only by pieces of light grey and gold stripes and the Archosaur Patrol insignias -- it looked like a fast-moving shadow, most fitting to his name.

Darkthunder.

A few epithets were hurled at him as he brushed too close for comfort to some saurians, but the terrorclaw ignored them all. Only one voice resonated in his mind. His ship's commander had relayed a message just as their ship finished their current mission and returned to their base. Along with some grave news, there was a personal message for Darkthunder from General Zaron. The deathjaw wanted to meet with him as soon as possible after their ship docked. His voice conveyed a strong sense of urgency, and Darkthunder knew better than to keep any large carnosaur waiting.

In a way, it was not different from his days as a hunter when he lived naturally from the land. The pack leaders were always commanding and handing orders to down the pecking order, and the Elders of the territory had their own requests. The Archosaur Patrol was his pack now, one Darkthunder was more than happy to have joined.

His urgent run ended at the entrance to a large room. Darkthunder paused as his mind slipped out of the trance that allowed him to tap the primal instincts that had carried him in his run. His heartbeat slowed down just as his body turned upright.

A lone male longcrest stood behind a desk, and now eyed him with curiosity and slight nervousness, even when Darkthunder wore the full uniform of the Patrol. Three burly armored soldiers guarded a second entrance several meters away, ready to intervene if called.

After some questions and a body scan, he cleared security and proceeded past the second door, followed by the curious looks from the receptionist and the soldiers. Darkthunder was used to some of the attention given to him by virtue of being the only terrorclaw in the Patrol, and even enjoyed it at times. There would always be people for which he would be their first time meeting one of his species.

For others, however, it fueled a different, more carnal interest. It had been a very long time since Darkthunder had bedded someone -- a female of his pack, on the night before he departed his homeworld and the pack. She was out of season and thus unable to carry his offspring, but that was not the purpose for their mating. The experience had been extremely pleasant, but left him questioning which side of the mating equation he wanted to be. He would never lack partners who perhaps did not look at him as more than a conquest and some badge of honor. Darkthunder wanted far more than indiscriminate sex.

Darkthunder was awed at the sight as he entered Zaron's alcove. Both saurians had met before, but always had been inside a ship or station. Zaron was large; easily twice Darkthunder's size, he still exuded an aura of respect that a large predator would instill on smaller creatures.

Made to resemble the land of his ancestors, the deathjaw's room was spacious, befitting someone of his size and nature. A small waterfall and brook stood in a corner among several bushes and small trees, while soft grass grew through the entire room. The tall, vaulted ceiling displayed the image of a planetary sky, complete with a bright sun and several slow moving clouds. Several natural scents drifted about and completed the ambiance.

Hot and humid, it was very much like the terrorclaw's own home. Darkthunder had to resist the desire to remove his uniform and stand naked.

A booming voice filled the room. "Welcome, Darkthunder."

The terrorclaw turned to look at the deathjaw standing on one side of the enormous room, staring through the only window in the room and into the dark, starry canvas of the galaxy. Despite the slightly oppressive heat and humidity, he was dressed in the full, formal uniform of the Archosaur Patrol.

"Reporting for duty, sir," the terrorclaw said as he thumped his chest with his right fist.

"At ease, soldier," Zaron said in a rumbling, deep voice, without turning to look away from the window. "Please give me some time to think." His speech was slurred somewhat, which Darkthunder recognized as coming out of the hunter trance. From his place, Darkthunder could not see what seemed to attract the General's attention.

Darkthunder sat on a small boulder and waited patiently. As a hunter, the terrorclaw picked up faint scents, of other life, and even traces of a familiar smell -- blood. Certainly, some events had transpired in the room not so long ago. The room was perhaps more than a retreat for Zaron -- it evidently was also to purge the desire for live prey.

The deathjaw finally turned to address the other carnivore. "I appreciate your prompt response, Lieutenant. My apologies for having kept you waiting. Hunter trance."

Darkthunder nodded as he moved to stand on his feet. He walked to stand closer to Zaron, arms drawn close to his body in a gesture of submission. "Apology accepted, sir. Like you, I have used the trance when I have needed for some time alone, although it would have been nice to also have a place like this to engage in some meditation."

Zaron rumbled softly. "I would have welcomed you in a more formal setting, but the predator in me thought differently. This alcove is my place to retire whenever I need absolute solitude. As well as other purposes, as you have undoubtedly smelled. After the recent news, I certainly needed to roam here alone for a while."

The deathjaw paused for a while before continuing. "I have a question for you, Lieutenant," he said, still not turning to look at Darkthunder. "How is life for you in the Patrol?"

Darkthunder's crest stood up as his toeclaws twitched, denoting his pride. "It is very much like a pack in my homeworld. Even when I miss my brethren sometimes, soldiers of all species and ranks make me feel I am part of the largest hunt ever. I could not ask for a better life, sir."

Zaron said nothing for a short while. He then turned to face the terrorclaw, a somber look on his face. "The time for me to be honest with you is long overdue, Darkthunder. I really did not look forward to have you under my chain of command. Not after the incident with your brother, Starhunter."

"Sir --" Darkthunder began before Zaron silenced him with a loud growl.

"Dishonor is not something we want in the corps, Darkthunder. Part of me wanted to understand Starhunter, as one predator to another. However, I was and still am committed to uphold our laws. Although his actions were ultimately determined to be the result of other soldiers forcing him to enter a hunter trance, Starhunter still faced the fact that he not only almost killed another soldier, he left him crippled for life. I had no choice but to discharge him dishonorably.

"I was ready to put the whole incident in the records and forget about it. That is when I receive a message from the Academy. I have another terrorclaw under my chain of command."

Darkthunder felt his crest feathers droop from shame, and he bowed profusely. "I speak for my pack, the Ssrash-Mahr, when I seek to apologize for the actions of one of our own. The shame is a terrible burden to all of us. I... I joined the Patrol to be with my brother. I have battled the hate and shame ever since, to be the best soldier I could be. I had hoped my actions could --"

The terrorclaw went silent as Zaron raise a three-fingered claw to silence him. "Your apology is unnecessary, soldier. Your pack has more than made up for Starhunter's disgrace with your service. Your integrity and dedication are assets to the corps, Darkthunder. And for that, I have to thank someone. A former good friend of mine who put some sense back into my skull."

Darkthunder tilted his head slightly to the side, his feathers going slightly up, signaling his curiosity, but the deathjaw continued talking.

"I still remember your graduation day, when I welcomed your class into the ranks of the Archosaur Patrol. I have met countless cadets, yet none of them showed such a bright spark in their eyes. Your toeclaws even twitched as I saluted you, as if you had caught some special prey. I knew right then I had misjudged you.

"Since then, I've constantly kept informed of your progress. I have seen you rise through the ranks, and all the way your superiors had nothing but utmost praise for your service. Other than the fact that you are a little hotheaded, but that is something that often comes with the territory for us hunters. I do not know what your ultimate goal is, but sometimes I feel I should start guarding my own territory." Zaron flashed a toothy grin.

Darkthunder bowed again, unable to contain his pride. "Your words honor me, sir. Your territory is safe, however. No offense to your station, sir, but why would I stay in this alcove when I could be out there in the largest territory of them all? My life is out there, in the stars."

"Indeed. This is why I've come to a decision about you." Zaron turned to look outside the window again. "Come here, please."

Darkthunder raced to cover the distance between him and his superior, standing to the left of the large carnosaur.

"Take a look outside," Zaron commanded. "Do you see that lone ship parked at the aft port?"

Darkthunder nodded. "It's a scout ship. Just like the one I serve, with Commander Ryakk. That one is..." His crest feathers flattened down in sadness as the terrorclaw realized what he was looking at. "It's the Dak-Tarrakhan, sir."

Zaron remained almost completely still. The deathjaw projected absolute tranquility, even as Darkthunder felt the thunderous rage seething inside.

A loud, guttural rumble came from the deathjaw as a heavy frown formed on his face. "One of my best officers is now dead. Killed in action while doing his sworn duty of ridding the Domains of the scum that infests our territory. It takes a lot of effort not to let my base instincts take control of me to think of those who killed him so cowardly."

Darkthunder understood Zaron's anger. The Tarrakhan's commander had been a plateback by the name of Prion. Old and soft-spoken, he was the type that many respected, and actively sought to serve under his ship. Under his command, the crew of the Tarrakhan had earned a place in the annals of the Patrol. News of the sad event had raced across the Patrol as fast as the communication channels had allowed. For a short while, the load on the communication systems threatened to bring the whole network down. Inside the Dak-Safran, were Darkthunder was serving as First Officer, the news sent a wave of shock and disbelief.

Zaron turned to look at the terrorclaw with only his left eye. "He was one of your teachers at the Academy, Darkthunder."

"Yes, sir. Headmaster Prion was one of my mentors almost from the start of my days at the Academy. The memories of my brother's actions still lingered, and I endured extreme prejudice among many of my fellow cadets. I really felt like quitting several times, before I actually would get to kill someone. However, every single time, Prion was there, talking to me. I will never have enough words to describe the effect he had on me. He saw my potential."

"That he did. He was the one who convinced me to give you a chance in the Patrol. I was extremely reluctant to do so, but I knew I would have made a big mistake if I didn't listen to him."

Zaron paused. His voice was softer as he continued. "He left the Academy some time after your commencement as Corporal. Just like you, he longed for life inside a ship, not inside buildings. And now..." The deathjaw turned away from the window. "You train all your life for honoring your fellow saurians. You train for the moment when you may have to give your life to help others live safe. Nobody trains you for the time when you have to bury your friends."

Darkthunder stood at attention and saluted his superior. "I would be honored if you allow me to serve at his funeral, sir."

Zaron shook his head. "There will be no public ceremonies, soldier. Prion was a saurian who valued his duty above anything else. He would have never wanted for us to stop to honor his memory."

The deathjaw began to walk away from the window, and Darkthunder followed a few steps behind. "We live for the hunt, Darkthunder. Just like on any of our hunts, we know that one day the prey could strike back and maybe even take us down. We never stop being hunters for fear of death. And neither will the Patrol, nor the ship's crew. The Dak-Tarrakhan is ready to continue."

Zaron stopped, and turned to look straight into Darkthunder's eyes. "All the crew needs is an officer to take them back on a hunt."

"And who --?" Darkthunder did not finish the question before he realized what Zaron was about to say. The thought froze him almost completely -- only his crest feathers denoted his surprise as they rose to stand upright. "S-sir?"

"Excuse me for completely avoiding Patrol protocol, but the Tarrakhan crew is eager to head back into space. And I wanted to give you the news personally. Commander Darkthunder."

The terrorclaw stuttered, unable to form a single word. "S-s-sir!" he finally managed to blurt as he stood at attention. "Just give the order, sir, and I'll be on my way!"

"The ship is fueled and ready to go, but you are granted a one-day leave to have your possessions transferred to the Tarrakhan. There are still some formalities needed before you take to the helm of your new command."

"Sir... honestly... I dreamed of having my own command one day, but... this... is surreal. Of all the ships... why...? What about the current First Officer?"

"Your First Officer will be Lieutenant Arokh," Zaron said in the normal Patrol voice. "He served under Prion's command, and will continue under yours. He is ready for your questions, once you have your initial meeting and go over whatever information you may need about the Tarrakhan.

"Your selection was not a decision I made alone, and we could not think of anyone who deserved it better or who would be suited to continue the dedication to which Prion and the crew made the Dak-Tarrakhan reap so much recognition. And there is no doubt in my mind that Prion would have agreed with my decision."

Darkthunder saluted. Zaron saluted back. "Time for you to meet your pack, hunter."

"Sir! Yes, sir!" Darkthunder roared enthusiastically.

Zaron roared back. "Go after your prey. Dismissed!"

Darkthunder turned and hurried away from the room. His claws gripped the grassy floor firmly as he adopted his running hunter posture again, but in his mind he could as well had been walking on air.

Zaron stared at the small, lithe hunter sprint away. He smiled despite recalling all his past misgivings about the terrorclaw. There was much promise awaiting the terrorclaw, and certainly much pain and frustration. There was much at stake for the small hunter; the Dak-Tarrakhan could be the start of a path of greatness, or a downfall. For Darkthunder's sake, he hoped it would be the former.

The deathjaw pushed two buttons on a small unit attached to his right forearm. "Computer, I need a voice link to the Dak-Tarrakhan. Give me full access to the public address system."

Zaron knew he did not need to worry if there would be a time when his own rank would be within reach of Darkthunder's claws. His own time was approaching, and Zaron would step down long before the terrorclaw were to reach a position to vie for the post.

"If only I were younger," he said to himself. The terrorclaw would certainly be a worthy adversary.

Voice link activated, the computer replied.

The deathjaw took a deep breath, making his voice rumble with a slight growl as he spoke. "Crew of the Dak-Tarrakhan, this is General Zaron speaking. It is my pleasure to inform you that the selection for a new commanding officer is complete. Commander Darkthunder is now heading your way as we speak..."

*-*-*

The atmosphere inside the Tarrakhan had changed from somber to extreme excitement, even as their loss still floated thickly in the atmosphere. Yet a sense of purpose had begun to take over, and everyone waited excitedly for the next mission. For the first time in days, a crowd had gathered at the mess hall for lively chat. Saurians gathered in separate tables, following old routines and friendships they were fond of hanging around with, filling the air with voices and conversations that had been absent for days.

"Of all species!" a female thumbspike roared as she addressed her two companions at a table. "He chooses a damn terrorclaw! How could General Zaron promote a primitive to command this ship? The Tarrakhan will be his first command, even!"

A groundthumper sitting to her left did not pause from his lunch of seasoned leaves. "I don't see what your problem is, Keana," he said over the sound of his teeth shredding his food. "Why should the species matter? Whoever this new commander is, he certainly must have the qualifications for the job if Zaron thought he is worthy to succeed Prion."

"Maybe you would think different if you knew anything about terrorclaws, Brakkus." She pulled a small computer from a pocket in her pants. "I researched this... Darkthunder, as he is called. Turns out he has a brother who preceded him in the Patrol. This other terrorclaw was discharged dishonorably after he almost killed another soldier in a fit of rage. A thumbspike, even."

Brakkus paused as he swallowed. "So you're scared you'd be next?"

An armorback sitting to Keana's right joined in the conversation. "She may well be, if she drives him mad with her paranoia." He turned to look at her as he continued. "All saurians have their own share of weaknesses, girl."

"Not all of us count our weakness as a set of teeth and footclaws that can rip skin like knife on soft cream, Grell. But then, your skin is probably too tough and hard for him."

"Hard, yes," Brakkus said, grinning. "I can vouch for that."

The armorback ignored Brakkus' comment and shrugged as he swung his clubbed tail slightly from side to side. "I have my ways to appease any unruly meat eater right here." Eying Brakkus' meal, he plucked a few leaves from the plate and promptly dropped them into his mouth. "This needs more salt."

"Hey!" Brakkus brayed in protest as he placed an arm to cover his food. "Buy your own grub, fat ass!"

"Oh, pipe down." Grell turned towards the thumbspike. "So what else you can tell us? You seem to be on top of the gossip about this new commander."

"Yeah," Brakkus said, still more interested in his meal. "What does this Darkthunder look like?"

"Get this. He is an anomaly even among his kind. His skin is almost completely black, with blue and green stripes, and a feathered crest. He takes pride in his body and race; he goes hunting periodically at that planet the Patrol has preserved for its carnivores. Rumor has it he has sometimes returned to the pickup station, naked and bathed in blood from his prey."

"So he's a dark, deadly feather duster," Grell said, uninterested. "Now that's something you don't see every day."

"Sounds like a good-looking partner to room with," Brakkus said as he ribbed his armorback friend. "Doesn't it, Grell?"

"I don't know about that. Sounds like someone who would rather eat his partner rather than fuck them."

"Shut off those filthy thoughts, perverts," Keana said, slightly annoyed. "Even if you could share a room with an officer, Darkthunder is your textbook soldier. Married to his duty, so to speak. It doesn't seem like he even has the inclination to get himself a partner." She smirked, smug with satisfaction. "So you two cockbreaths are most certainly out."

Grell thumped the floor lightly with his clubbed tail, slightly annoyed. "So are you, Keana. I guess you'll still have to keep looking."

"Perhaps. Anyone could change their mind and outlook, if the rights words are spoken."

Brakkus snorted. "Hah! You diss an officer one minute, only to dream about being in bed with him the next. Someone must be getting desperate for action." He turned to address Grell. "Speaking of which, the bed is ready for us after we depart, big boy."

The female frowned. "Sure. Rub it on, Brakkus! You two think you are exceptional because you became fuck buddies once you ended up sharing the same quarters."

Grell grimaced. "Fuck buddies? Ugh, that is such a nasty name. We rather refer to ourselves as just close friends."

"With benefits," Brakkus said while munching another mouthful of leaves. "There is nothing special going between us. Just a little fun and sex."

"More like lots of fucking and loud sex. Everyone in the ship talks about your romps. It is almost like a rite of passage for anyone who joins the crew of this ship. 'Give them the quarters next to Brakkus and Grell, to see how long they last before they request a transfer.' You two make the engine room a better place to sleep in."

"That's where the fun part comes in. How many have relocated so far, Grell? Twenty?"

"Forty seven," the armorback said. "I've been keeping count."

"You're sick," Keana said in disgust. "Both of you. I walked by your quarters once. You must be doing all that screaming on purpose."

"I can't help it, girl!" Brakkus said, pointing at Grell with one of his eating utensils. "When this guy gets on top of me, he fucks hard! Having that thick meat inside, splaying my butt cheeks wide as it savagely goes in and out, is like no other feeling in the galaxy."

"For the love of Maia! Will you stop talking about your sex life? I don't want to hear anything about males doing it. I swear, you tailraisers just think of nothing but sex. What a waste of some good cocks, if you ask me."

"That is not true! We're not a hundred percent tailraisers. At least, Grell isn't. And it's not like we haven't offered you the chance to share our bed with either or both of us before, but you keep refusing!"

"Yeah," Grell said, grinning. "We're not really particular about who we hump."

Keana frowned in disgust. "For Maia's sake! You're nuts if you think I am so desperate that I would take some cocks that have been inside some other male's tailholes. Besides, either of you could split me in half with those girths. I rather take my chances with the killer feather duster." She fiddled a bit with her pocket computer to produce an image. "Here. I have his portrait."

Brakkus lowered his head to look at the image. His eyes bulged as his head shot upwards, the neck almost completely stiff. He looked at Grell as if aghast, then grinned widely as he took one more look at the picture, then back at Keana. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists, then shivered mockingly as if in the throes of an orgasm. "Ooooohhh, sweet Mother! His must be such a tight ass! I love him already!"

Keana scowled as her lunch companions burst into raucous laughter. "You two really make me sick."

*-*-*

The feelings of elation had long subsided, yet the terrorclaw could still not help his sense of pride and accomplishment as he stepped out of the transport shuttle. Only a walkway separated him from the Dak-Tarrakhan. His toeclaws twitched at the sight of the ship, lying serene, held next to the station by the walkway and other cables tethered to it.

A large eyeridge stepped out of the car after the terrorclaw. "Welcome to the Dak-Tarrakhan, Commander."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Darkthunder began a slow walk towards the ship, feeling slightly intimidated. He turned to look upwards towards the hull. Most portholes and windows were lighted up, and Darkthunder could see figures in them, all apparently looking outside at the approaching commander.

Commander. It was only one step above his previous position of Lieutenant, and First Officer. His long stint at the Dak-Safran had prepared him for everything but this. Even after he had successfully guided the Safran through missions while its Commander was away, they all had been mostly exploratory missions with little combat involved. In the end, he always ended up passing the command chair back to its rightful owner.

An oppressive, heavy feeling began to creep in, like the same realization he once had back in his planet. His hunting pack had targeted a large herbivore that proved to be tougher than any of them had expected. The hunt eventually succeeded, but at the cost of some injured hunters. The elders had praised Darkthunder's skill at the same time they scolded him for his lapse of better judgment.

Now a different kind of prey stared back at him, daring the small hunter to conquer it.

He was now in command of not just any vessel. He had some history and renown to live up to, all seemingly ingrained in the ship itself, as if a living symbiote had attached itself permanently to the hull. He had to be a better hunter, to make that symbiote grow and thrive and not let it turn around and destroy the terrorclaw. The moment filled him with a slight sense of dread that had been lost when he heard the news of his promotion. The time when his skills would be tested had arrived. For an instant, he wished for a simpler ship, not one of the most famous scout ships in the fleet.

His toeclaws twitched. He made a mental image of his fears and pictured himself as a primal hunter, rendering the beast representing his fear into several bloody pieces. The imagery calmed him somewhat.

There would be no one he would substitute temporarily; no one whose name would be higher. He was the full pack leader now. The future of the ship and the crew were now on his claws to guard. General Zaron had faith in him, and Darkthunder could do no less.

He turned to look at Arokh. The eyeridge smiled as he looked back at the smaller officer. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"Indeed. I have been in similar ships before, in different assignments and ranks. I imagine the interior layout is not much different. Outside the rules of the Patrol, I realize every crew is different. I know I can count on your help if I need to." He paused for an instant to get his mind to the task in front of him. "Any last minute notes?"

"Only small changes to last night's briefing, sir. You will find all of them under your station at the bridge and your station in your quarters."

Both saurians crossed a doorframe and into the ship. Inside, a small contingent of Patrolsaurs stood at attention. In front of them, a buff longjaw turned to stand at attention. "Commander in the ship!"

Darkthunder nodded and saluted back, reading the rank and name on the saurian's uniform. "At ease, Corporal Kakkuttek."

"Welcome aboard, sir!" the longjaw said, smiling proudly.

"What are your functions on board, soldier?"

"Security and weapon repair, sir. I am a recent transfer from the Krex-Garrall."

"A Krex class ship? That is a bit of a step down, Corporal. Any particular reasons?"

"I will serve the Patrol wherever I am needed. And with all due respect, sir, it is not a demotion. I am proud to serve under this illustrious ship and your command. Sir!"

The terrorclaw smiled and saluted. "Carry on, soldier. Close the hatch. We will depart within the hour. Group dismissed."

The longjaw smiled toothily as he saluted, then turned to proceed to follow his orders.

The eyeridge moved to walk alongside the terrorclaw. "You have made that soldier's day, sir. A new Commander enters the ship, and he's the first one you get to talk to."

Darkthunder kept walking, nodding to every crewmember he saw. "Just a small gesture, Arokh. I intend to meet with everyone in the following days so I can spend some time having a one on one talk. I realize there are some serious concerns and misunderstandings about terrorclaws, and I wish to have every single saurian know I am not here to hunt them, but to do so alongside them."

"That looks like a daunting task, given the amount of crew this ship carries."

"One thousand nine hundred and twenty three. Terrorclaws are patient hunters, Arokh. Unless they are starving."

"So are us eyeridges, Commander, even if our ancestors lived of different prey."

Darkthunder nodded. "If you don't mind me asking you a personal question, Arokh, I'm a bit curious about something."

"And what would that be, sir?"

"You are a Lieutenant, just as I was before my promotion. You served under the command of Prion, under this ship. Of all saurians, you would be the one most qualified to command the Tarrakhan. And yet you didn't?"

"The question was bound to come up sooner or later. I would like to dispel the notion the Patrol considered me unfit for the promotion, sir. So you do not need fear I harbor any resentment about your selection as Commander. General Zaron did approach me, just as I reported the news of Commander Prion's death to the Patrol. I let him know right then I would best serve the Patrol as First Officer of this ship."

"Understood. Excuse me for any indiscretions. It is just that I find it hard to imagine a large carnivore like you having no desire for a chance to lead a pack of hunters."

"The hunter instinct is very much present in my blood, Commander. Some of us simply wish to channel it in a different way."

The bridge was visible as they rounded a corner. Arokh quickened his pace to enter the room ahead of his superior, and roared a call.

"Commander on the bridge!"

It was a call Darkthunder had heard innumerable times throughout his years of service to the Patrol. Yet somehow, it rang different as he walked on the opposite side of it, when his arrival was announced.

The terrorclaw's first impulse was to stand at attention. He smiled and continued walking.

Grell rose from his seat as the Arokh's voice came with the announcement. Finally, a chance to put all the uncertainty behind. He had been itching to get back into the stars, to keep his mind busy with work. Idling only helped to bring in thoughts he wished he could squash with his large, thick feet.

"The time's here, Grell." Brakkus chuckled. "We'll finally know if our new boss screws us up."

Unlike many others throughout the ship, the concept of a new commanding officer did not bother him. Prion's unfortunate passing had shocked him, yet there had been no strong ties to the plateback. He expected no difference from whatever replacement the higher-ups at the Patrol had promoted. Any thoughts on whether they would measure to the level of the late Prion would be completely out of line at the time until that terrorclaw could prove himself worthy. After all, slackers never survived for long in the Patrol.

"Keep talking and you'll be the first to --" he began to say. The armorback saw Arokh enter the bridge followed by another, smaller figure. As his eyes locked on the terrorclaw, Grell realized the image Keana had produced before did not give the saurian justice. His skin -- whatever remained uncovered by the uniform -- glistened under the bridge's lighting. The blue and green stripes on his snout seemed more vibrant, adding to the creature's beauty. His feathered crest swayed and bobbed with every movement from the terrorclaw's toned body, visible through the form-fitting clothes. Even the large, sickle-type claws on the saurian's feet seemed to add to his aura of magnificence.

He was a killer, born for the hunt.

Indirectly and unbeknown to this Darkthunder, he was hunting something Grell did not expect.

"Holy First Egg," Brakkus whispered. "He's more gorgeous in person!"

"Yes," Grell said softly, almost inaudibly. "He sure is."

The terrorclaw walked once around the bridge as he performed a quick survey of the crew and their stations, like a hunter who had just ascended to alpha male and now assessed his pack. Grell stood still as the hunter's green eyes locked briefly on him. The feathers twitched slightly as the terrorclaw looked at him with some curious intent, then seemingly focused on the armorback's chest. He bared a few teeth for the briefest of moments before he resumed his stoic appearance, as if suddenly aware of a reaction he was not supposed to display. Catching a whiff of the armorback's smell, the terrorclaw snorted slightly, then turned to walk away.

"At ease, soldiers," he finally said. Satisfied of everything, he moved to stand in front of the command chair.

Brakkus lowered his neck to whisper into Grell's right ear hole. "Did he just snub you?"

Grell did not answer. He tried to concentrate, to keep his mind where it belonged, at the controls of the ship. It's all right, he thought. He's just a new officer. Maybe I remind him of someone or something he rather forget.

"You're patched to the ship, sir," Arokh announced.

"Thank you, lieutenant." The terrorclaw paused briefly, apparently to gather his thoughts. "Crew of the Dak-Tarrakhan, this is Commander Darkthunder speaking. As you already know, I was granted command of this ship by orders of General Zaron and the Archosaur Patrol after the loss of Commander Prion.

"First, I want to express my condolences for your loss. I am afraid I cannot offer any words about the character of someone you had the privilege to serve for many years that you do not know already. I did have the honor to have his guidance at the Academy, and his dedication to honor and the Patrol, along with his noble crew, made this ship one that every archosaur would be honored to serve."

Grell remained impassive, taking every breath consciously, as he tried to fight the thoughts that raced through his mind.

"Dang... you're sweating!" Brakkus whispered.

The armorback growled, not turning to look at the groundthumper. "Shut up, you are not helping," he whispered back.

Darkthunder continued, apparently oblivious to the two saurians. "I am not sure if would ever be able to fill in his footsteps. I do not intend to. I can hope that I can lead you to continue his legacy in the best way I can.

"I am aware some of you probably may not be comfortable to have a terrorclaw as your officer, having heard some stories about a previous member of my species. I hope that, having made it this far in the Patrol, I can reassure you that I have better control over my primal instincts. Nevertheless, I will not lie to you. Some of the nature that makes me a terrorclaw may show at times. That primal instinct, the pack mentality, has served me well, and I intend to keep it. You are all now my pack. As your leader, I intend to push you just as I would do my brethren back in my birth planet. It is my hope, though, that this helps not just to guide this ship into safe harbor every time, but also to lead every one of you to excellence.

"Our current mission is to continue the same explorations that this ship was conducting before Commander Prion's untimely death. As such, we will depart for the Thomark sector in about two hundred minutes. I need all hands at their stations as soon as possible. I will make another announcement after we enter Tachyon space. Leafers and hunters, may all of you walk the safe path of life, and may Maia be with all of you. That will be all."

The terrorclaw turned to walk again towards Grell, his green eyes staring intently at him.

"Sergeant First Class Grell," Darkthunder said softly without any inflection. "By your chair, I presume you are the navigator."

"Yes, sir," Grell said, keeping his voice level despite the rush of emotions screaming inside him.

"Status report. Now."

Grell paused, slightly shocked at the tone the terrorclaw used. "Sir... uh, yes, sir. Impulse engines on standby; systems show one hundred percent thrust available. Tachyon engines are offline; air starters are online and currently at thirty-two point five percent, incrementing at their safe limits of about ten percent per hour. They will be fully online just as we exit the system."

"I sensed a hesitation there, soldier. Is there a problem?"

"There is none, sir. The Tarrakhan is ready for your command."

"I want the Tachyons fully operational within two hours."

"Sir... yes, sir. May I ask --?"

"I will not wait, soldier. The hunt must start. The ship, like all of my crew, must be completely ready under my command. Is that understood?"

Grell breathed deep and slow for a couple seconds as his clubbed tail swung sideways slowly. Instinct told him to defend himself from the predator staring intently at him. The predator could simply be testing his defenses, like a hunter prowling around a herd, searching for the weak spot in which to direct his kill.

"Understood, sir," Grell finally said, and touched a few spots in his command console. "Increasing air starter's throughput; Tachyon engines now coming online at twenty-three percent, still within operational limits." He remained nonchalant as he touched another spot on the console; soft sound of air and pneumatic pistons resonated throughout the hull. "Tethering cables disengaged. Ship is now ready for departure."

He stared intently back into the terrorclaw's green, slit eyes; Darkthunder stared back at him. Their eyes remained locked for a few moments.

Bring it on, hunter, the armorback thought as the faintest of smiles etched on his face. This "prey" can and will send you back to your pack so you can lick your wounds.

Breaking the eye contact, the terrorclaw nodded approval before he assumed his position on the command chair. "Take us five thousand meters away from the station. Quarter turn to starboard, then ahead at ten percent impulse power."

The Tarrakhan engines hummed as they became operational. Soon, status messages and dialogue filled the cabin, to which the terrorclaw replied with more instructions.

Grell continued with the demanding tasks of his station. He sensed the predator sending an occasional glance in his direction, to which he not only feigned complete indifference, but also kept feeding messages about the ship's heading and speed.

The wait seemed interminable. A soft sigh of relief spread through the cabin as the armorback gave the message everyone waited for. "Tachyon engines now online and fully operational. Inertia shields online. We are ready to enter T-Space, Commander."

Grell glanced at the timer on his station and smiled satisfactorily. One point eighty nine hours since departure. He turned to look at the Commander. Sitting on the command chair, elbows on the armrests, he rested his snout on his hands, as if in deep thought.

"Acknowledged," he said without any emotion in his voice. "Engage engines."

The bridge flooded with a bright light for a brief instant as the ship exceeded the speed of light and entered the tachyon stream. There was a slight jolt as the Tarrakhan settled into the alternate universe of foreign physics and matter.

"Status, everyone," Darkthunder asked. Every saurian around him reported all systems under normal operational conditions. Satisfied, he rose from the chair and turned to address the eyeridge, who until then had remained silent sitting to the right of the terrorclaw.

"Lieutenant Arokh, you have the conn. I will be in my cabin to read any updates to our mission debriefings and set up the schedule for my initial contacts with the crew. "

"Yes, sir," Arokh said as he moved to sit on the command chair.

"You have performed well, crew," Darkthunder said as he continued towards the exit. "Carry on."

All eyes followed the terrorclaw as he walked out of the bridge. A soft murmur of surprise and some relief followed his departure, lasting only a few seconds as the crew resumed their tasks.

Only then did Grell allowed himself a soft gesture of his pent up frustration, as his clubbed tail hit the floor with a mild thump.

"Grell..." Brakkus began to say before the armorback cut him short with a stern look, before he too went back to work.

*-*-*

The air filled with heavy scents of sweat and sex, punctuated by the wet sounds of hard male flesh going in and out of another body, and the slap of sweaty loins against buttocks. Sounds constantly drowned by the grunts and brays of males engaged in heavy carnal pleasure.

Long had been the time since their mating started, with no sign of stopping. Grell did not pause as his eyes bitterly complained from the sweat drops flowing into them. His mind locked into the male beneath him as he pounded savagely into the warm tailhole already slick from the fluids of previous orgasms.

"Grell... ahhh, Grell!!!" Brakkus brayed loudly. Eyes shut tightly, he twitched and worked his hips as the thick cock plunged hard and fast inside him. "Aaahhh!! Sweet Mother!! AAAAHHHH!!"

The armorback continued thrusting hard into the groundthumper's tailhole, rocking him hard. Each thrust pushed Brakkus deep into the soft bed; their bodies bounced upwards as Grell pulled out slightly before driving his meat back hard. And on and on, constantly, furiously, driven by savage lust.

Once again, the loud screams of his friend were drowned by the furious beating of blood in his eardrums, heart beating fast as his climax approached. His thrusts intensified in frequency, going even deeper inside his partner, who screamed even louder.

"AAAIIIAAAHHH!!! Aahhh.... GGREEEAAHHH!!! AHHH!!! AAAAIIIAAAAHHHKKK!!!"

Finally, the armorback could not hold any more. He pushed his massive member as deep as possible one last time, holding fast onto his partner, claws digging into Brakkus rump, as he spurted hard inside Brakkus, sending even more cum into the groundthumper's bowels. Small objects around the room reverberated as the armorback brayed and growled from his orgasm.

Grell finally collapsed on top of the other male, who stroked furiously his still hard cock for a minute until he too came, spurting his seed onto the dirty, cum-stained bed as he let out one final scream of pleasure.

The air around them was heady, full of strong smells and bestial growls of their afterglows. They remained together in the wet, sticky bed of their own mess, unable to do much as they tried to recover from their mating, the armorback's massive cock still deep inside the groundthumper's tailhole.

"Ohh, shit," the groundthumper said as he panted. "Ffffuuuckkk... Gaaahhh." He tried to move; weakened from their mating, his feeble strength was no match for Grell's weight still pinning him down on the bed. "Grell... oh, fuck... get... off... ahhh!"

"Give me... a few... ugggh... dear Mother..." Grell panted as well, trying to keep the sweat drops away from rolling into his eyes, without success. He blinked several times to alleviate the stinging sensation.

Brakkus found it near impossible to lift his long neck. "Aahhh... Grell... what got into you tonight... you'd never taken... taken me... so hard..."

Their words and last waves of pleasure were abruptly interrupted by loud bangs on their cabin's door.

"Pipe it down there, you two!" a deep, guttural voice boomed angrily from the hallway. "They can hear your screams all the way to the next galaxy!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." Brakkus moaned. "Not him again..."

"Shut the fuck up, Kakkuttek!" Grell hoarsely shouted back as loud as he could. "We're having a private meeting here."

"Yeah, shut up, longjaw," Brakkus said, chuckling. "Back to your station!"

"Don't you tell me to shut up, cock neck! We're outside our obligations now, so don't pull that rank bullshit on me! Two spikefrills in heat would not make as much noise as you taking it up the ass. I will file a report with the Commander if you don't keep it quiet there! Hopefully we now have an officer who will take our complaints seriously."

"Oooo," Brakkus said softly to Grell. "He's really mad."

Grell sighed, still trying to catch his breath. "I don't need this shit." He turned to scream at the saurian outside. "Mind your own damn fucking business! Don't ruin our fun just because you are too repressed to get any. If it bothers you so much, ask to be reassigned to a different room, like everyone else before you!"

"I am not moving! It is about time someone put a stop to your impudence, and I'll do it even if I have to go all the way to the Archosaur General to do it!"

"Hey, no need to get so testy!" Brakkus shouted despite his dry throat, followed by a burst of raucous laughter. "Why don't you come in so we can discuss this? Maybe over a spit roast!"

There was a very brief silence followed by a curse. "Fuck you, Brakkus! Fuck you very, very much!"

Grell groaned. "Come on, Brakkus. Stop teasing him. We don't need him any more furious."

The groundthumper continued laughing, apparently ignoring his companion's request. "No, Grell is the one doing all the fucking!"

"Well, then that goes for you as well, Grell! Stop thinking with the head between your legs for once and have some consideration! Some of us would like to get some sleep before our shift!"

"Oh, this is good!" Brakkus said. "Well, how about you--?" He found himself unable to shout as Grell clamped his jaws shut, holding tightly. The groundthumper flailed wildly before he tried to push the armorback away. Grell kept his grip; there was no danger of suffocating the groundthumper, as Brakkus' nostrils resided on the small crest at the top of his head.

"All right, all right!" Grell shouted. "Get your beauty sleep, longjaw. We'll be quiet. I promise."

"You better," the saurian said with a loud sigh. His voice trailed off as he walked away, apparently talking to himself. "Damned horny sons of mammal whores! I only I could..."

"Damn it, Grell!" Brakkus said angrily as he finally worked his jaws free. "Why did you --?"

"I told you to leave him alone. He's right, and so has everyone else before him. We probably shouldn't be putting up such a show."

"Well, whose side are you on now! He's a grumpy, old crocodile! It is not my problem if he's too obtuse and repressed to get laid."

"That's still no reason for you to tease him. Some people are sensible about such things."

"Oh, sure! Just like we have been sensitive to Keana's feelings?"

"She's a snotty bitch. That is different."

The groundthumper snorted, annoyed. "Whatever. Now could you please get off me? Your dick is still inside me and my ass hurts."

Grell growled. He pulled his now limp cock out of Brakkus' tailhole, and the groundthumper howled softly with pleasure. Stepping out of the bed, the armorback grabbed a nearby rag to wipe cum dripping from his genitals and surrounding areas. "It's not like I can continue any more. Maia, I surely overdid it. My cock is sore."

"Your cock?" Brakkus said softly. "How do you think my tailhole feels!? Damn you -- you plowed me hard tonight! I won't be able to sit down for a couple days without feeling this."

"Oh, shut up. You like being my bitch, or you we wouldn't be living together and you wouldn't keep asking for it."

Brakkus turned to lay on his right side as he opened his legs as he waged the end of his long tail. "This male wasn't born for anything but to take cock, my boy."

"I'm surprised you're not another of those whores in Sethria Six. You probably could rack some serious denarks selling your ass to all the drug lords and their lackeys."

"And probably end up an addict myself. No, thanks. I rather have my fun among the stars. Besides, males in uniform are more interesting. Other than Kakkuttek; he's no fun at all. I say screw him -- well, not in a fun way." The groundthumper turned to lie down again on his stomach, and moved his tail away, exposing his lubricated tailhole. "My ass is sore, but you could now play with my dick for a change."

Grell did not answer. He sighed heavily and walked away to look briefly at the white streaks of light outside the window as the ship moved across Tachyon space.

"Nice," the groundthumper said, slightly annoyed. "You use me and then walk away when you had your fill. Hey, armorcock, I'm talking to you!" He snorted, slightly exasperated. "Tarrakhan to Grell! What's wrong with you? Did that stupid longjaw killed your mood?"

The armorback ignored him as he continued cleansing his body from sweat and cum. "I don't need to tell you what's wrong."

Brakkus dropped his torso back onto the bed as he turned to stare at the ceiling. He let out a loud noise amplified by his strong vocal chords as he sighed, then thrust his arms up and waved his hands as if to ask some unseen entity for mercy. "So that is why you fucked me so nicely tonight. Damn, how many times are you going to bring this shit up? Don't you ever get tired?"

"You should know by now."

"Just like you should know my answer will always be the same," Brakkus said, annoyed. "I understand that you really want to settle down with a mate, but if you want love and commitment you are smelling the wrong saurian's crotch. Don't get me wrong; I like you and all the fun we have. You are the best male I've ever had the pleasure of having given myself to. I... I just can't do it. I can't tie myself to a committed relationship."

"Then one day it will stop. No more fucking, you and I, if I get engaged."

Brakkus snorted as he massaged his balls and semi-hard cock. "Your choice, armorback." There was a long, silent moment. "That doesn't mean we couldn't have some fun occasionally."

"That won't happen. I wish to be exclusive to my partner. I expect the same from him. You don't see me fucking other people in this ship, have you?"

"The Archosaur Domains are full of saurians, and you don't wish to have wanton sex everywhere other than my ass. You are one strange reptile, Grell. Maybe you should change that outlook, have some serious fun. You could start by banging Kakkuttek. If you can get him to come out of his shell."

Grell said nothing, other than letting out a loud snort.

The groundthumper rose suddenly to sit in one corner of the bed. "I know! How about the Commander!"

Grell turned to stare at him with puzzled eyes. "What in the Egg of Damnation are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent. I could see you were staring at him at every opportunity when we took the ship out of the station."

"Yes, because he got on my case for no fucking reason!" the armorback roared, pacing furiously around the cabin, his clubbed tail swinging angrily. "All my life I have followed the procedures outlined in every single Patrol directive. I have flown this ship for years, and never did I have my abilities questioned! And now some... some... some lanky feather duster comes out of nowhere and wants to tell me how to fly a ship? Who the fuck does he think he is!"

"Well, you heard what Keana said. The guy is married to his duty. Maybe he just needs someone to help him relax. Maybe help him get laid. That could well be you."

"You're nuts." Grell sat down on the bed. He remained completely indifferent as Brakkus moved to stand behind him. He sighed and growled softly as the groundthumper began caressing his chest, tugging playfully with the armorback's nipple piercings.

"You know you are dying to bed the terrorclaw, you horny beast."

"I am not humping any dumb carnivore!" Grell growled. He turned to look at Brakkus, only to see the groundthumper staring intently at him, grinning.

"Oooohhh, you liar!" Brakkus said. "There is that glow in your eyes again! I've seen it before and I saw it again today, in the bridge. Your mind may be angry, but your heart is thinking otherwise. I'm sure there was a bulge in your groin as well, but your workstation covered it."

Disgusted, Grell pushed Brakkus away and moved away from the bed. "Go to hell, Brakkus! Go to fucking hell!" Venting his anger, he swung his clubbed tail against a nearby chair, knocking it down along with a table next to it.

"Don't break those," Brakkus said, chuckling. "We won't have any replacements until we get back to our station."

The armorback growled and clenched his hands tightly in anger and frustration. "All right, all right! So this... Darkthunder is cute, yes. Fuckable material, most definitely. So what! Something about me must have set him off. Now he hates my guts, and I don't even know why!"

"Because you smell."

"So does your ass when you fart. Even if I really wanted him, it won't do me any good. I don't think I could take him without splitting his guts wide open. He's a commander, while I am just a lower soldier."

Brakkus shrugged. "Rank has not been an impediment for some of the couples we know. You two could work it out."

"He's very much an alpha male. I rather take his tail than let him take mine."

"I don't think Darkthunder would do such a thing. I sense he is a tailraiser, like me."

There was a brief pause as Grell looked at his roommate as he tried to understand whatever was going on through the groundthumper's mind. Giving up, he walked towards the cabinet where they kept their clean laundry and started rummaging for a towel.

"And who the fuck died and made you the expert on male sexuality? You think you know what their place is during sex just by looking at them? That terrorclaw looks like he would be more eager to bite someone's cock off rather than suck one."

"He may not be a slut like me, but I'm telling you... he will mate sooner or later, and he's gonna take it up the ass." He paused for an instant. "He and Arokh would make a nice couple."

"By the First Egg!" Grell shouted as he face palmed. "Listen to yourself! I must have fucked your brains really hard today. Did you forget that Arokh is already mated to a female and has two younglings?"

"That doesn't mean he couldn't seek some nookie during our missions, when his mate is not around. A smaller, lithe terrorclaw -- Darkthunder would make a fine substitute female. Besides, there are rumors that Arokh goes both ways. He could be looking to bang a willing officer as a way to get a command of his own."

Having found a towel, Grell headed for the door to the cabin. "Ahh, I don't know why I waste my time listening to you. Your mind is too obsessed with sex to really analyze things. If Arokh wants a ship like you say, then why Zaron didn't give him this one?"

"Darned if I know. Maybe he doesn't want anything that smells of Prion. You know their relationship wasn't always the best. It was only their obligation to the Patrol what kept them working together."

"A rather stupid reason to reject the Tarrakhan. Many would kill to sit in that command chair."

"Maybe Arokh really doesn't want the honor. I rather command a cargo barge than have the eyes of every single Patrolsaur on my ship just because of its name. But that is beside the point." Brakkus grinned. "A hundred denarks say that the Commander has sex with Arokh before the eyeridge gets his own ship."

"Really? Well, you're on. I could use a few good drinks on our next shore leave."

"Ha ha! Deal!" Brakkus laid down on his back on the bed. Opening his legs wide, he began to stroke gently his cock, now hard and pulsing. "Before you shower, how about if you work your tongue around my dick and suck me dry? I've been eager to blow a load or two inside you tonight."

The armorback bent over to pick from the floor the cum-stained rag he had used before. He aimed and threw it at Brakkus on his way out, hitting the groundthumper squarely in the face. "Wrap that around your meat and jack off."

He did not stop to listen to Brakkus' angry protests as he closed the door and walked naked down the aisle.

To be continued...

(C) Kaa Bakensobek