---

---

“It is important that this package makes it to Merecc in a timely fashion. Do not try to unlock it. Do not try to scan it. Do not try to acknowledge it. It is just a box that needs to go to Merecc as far as you are concerned. Your account will be paid in full on its safe arrival.”

The mysterious collector and his mission. In retrospect, Maxwell Stone wasn’t sure what to make of it, though he was one-hundred percent focused on the fact he would get paid for delivering such a light load only a few faction territories over from where he typically operated. Had Max ever considered the implications of such a mission he probably would’ve realized sooner that this supposedly simple delivery was a lot more dangerous and complicated than presented to him. But as a courier, it was his job to deliver and not to think. On some days he wondered if it was worth all of the stress of dealing with all of the pirates and thieves he had come to blows with over the years following the disbandment of the flight squadron that had earned him his wings. On other days he wouldn’t have it any other way; after all, Max Stone lived a life of thrill seeking adventure with a southern beer in one hand and a serviceman revolver in the other.

And today? Today was turning out to be a little bit of both.

As the pilot pushed his plane across the Thorek Sea several aircraft's had dropped from the cloud overhead, unmarked and armed to the teeth. A fact Max realized he was contending with when he had to dodge the hail of gunfire rupturing from the armed biplanes that intended to cause the courier plane to crash into the ruins below. But it was going to take a little more than some cloud-touched bastards to turn him into dog’s breakfast. As the metallic clank of metal hitting metal echoed in the skies, in the cockpit of the targeted aircraft, the red-furred Novan Hedgehog scowled as he crushed the can of beer that was in his hands before tossing it to take hold of the reins of the aircraft before the hull was torn into a mesh of swiss cheese.

“What the hell? You think you can get the drop on me?!” He shouted, surprised at the encounter, as he tilted the plane looking for the best possible way out of the mess he now found himself in.

His brows narrowed, as he noticed the large expanse of wooded trees in the distance. As a Novan he had heard the stories about it. He knew what the forest was said to be. His superstitious sister, Yara, called it The Fall and possibly the most dangerous location in the entire world—even more than the warzone that was happening between factions like Urvask and Lsos or the problems with one of the airship federations starting to make large scale weapons to sink faction ships. Max was a pragmatist, not an idealist. So tall tales about the gigantic forest was not in his vocabulary nor did he ever want them to be. That aside, he knew the forest for some reason was a health hazard for flying aircrafts so much to the point the airship federations gave it a wide berth despite the historical, cultural, and spiritual value the ruins underneath the endless sea of trees held. It did mean two things, however. If he flew over the forest the pirates were going to back off or they would crash into the forest with him. A decent gambit for his perspective.

As smoke began to leave his airplane he bit his lip, taking a glance to where he kept the parachute. At least his trip to Merecc was going to be anything but boring. As Max started to reach the overhead of the forest he noticed his radio turn into static before his engines going dark in what seemed like an instant. He raised a brow as the plane began to violently plummet into the forest.

Guess that’s why they call it haunted or something. Whatever, I’m not scared of a stupid forest.

The thought graced his mind as he shuffled out of his seat and prepared to jump out and descend into the forest. He couldn’t have been more wrong about the dangers The Fall held for him.

“Well... here goes nothing.” He muttered under his breath as he slammed his foot on the door of the plane.

---

---

Taffy Tanner stood on the grassy ledge of a cliff at the edge of the forest, a small frown punctuating her muzzle as she contemplated the familiar landscape ahead of her. A breeze brushed past her, played through her raven-black hair and tugged at her black-and-gray striped tail and the long braid she always wore. Even at this distance, through the smell of decaying leaves littering the forest floor, she thought she could also detect the unique tinny scents of the metallic artifacts deposited throughout the forest. From this perch, she could see across the wide canopy of explosive color that enveloped the forest here in the early autumn-time of this hemisphere, but it was not an even-leveled skyline. Here and there, giant structures punctured the multi-colored leaves and stood tall, though often lopsided, and glinted even through the thick covering of vines and moss that had grown over most of these technological leviathans, these ruins of a distant past.

Well, I'm here, thought Taffy as she adjusted the straps on her backpack for what she guessed must have been the twelfth time since she reached the top of the cliff, then let her hands fall to her sides with the fingers closed into loose fists. She stared out at the forest with her bright blue eyes, as if she expected some kind of message or revelation. Memories played out in her mind as her eyes wandered, and a shiver ran down her spine despite being dressed for the mildly cool weather in a long-sleeved buttoned-up red shirt - her favorite color - and blue jeans. This place...it's just like I've always remembered it, yet it still feels so much different now. Maybe I'm just wasting my time, maybe-

Then the young Lotori woman stomped her foot, the sturdy hiking shoe sole making a dull thud on the cliff sod. I didn't come out here to drown in the past! she thought with irritation at herself. She shook her head, as if to break loose from the reminiscence she nearly let herself get sucked into like so much quicksand. I'm here to prove to myself that I'm not afraid! That, and I'd rather be out here instead of back at the dorms at the Institute, listening to first-years waste their break time by whining about how difficult the exams are and how much they miss home. There's no way for me to get any studying done with that nonsense!

Taffy's burst of temper left her warm with anger, but she was interrupted by another gust, this one strong enough to blow leaves past her and rustle through the grass at her feet. She closed her eyes and spread out her arms as she leaned into the wind, suddenly overtaken by a strange sense of calm that cooled her fury. Her tail and braid were pulled behind her like windsocks, as if free from gravity's pull. The unconscious constant tension in her shoulders fell away for the first time in many months.

Just me, and the sound of the wind out here. How can it be so peaceful out here?

As swiftly as it had risen, the wind gave way as if someone had flipped a switch, and Taffy stood there with her heart feeling peaceful...

Then her ears twitched at a distant buzzing noise that sounded like it was approaching. When she realized it was getting far too loud to be any kind of instinct, the raccoon-like woman's eyes flashed open and she looked up into the sky toward the sound. There, in the distance coming inland from the direction of the Thorek Sea...was a small airplane. Taffy wasn't very familiar with these vehicles, as she had only ever traveled by air in one of the passenger zeppelins when she had left home to study at Colosse, but as the plane grew closer, she guessed it was a single-pilot vehicle large enough to handle either passengers or small cargo. And, scattered in the air behind it, were several smaller planes she could barely make out were single-seater biplanes, with small bursts of flashes emitting from them every few seconds.

A lack of familiarity with aircraft didn't mean she was ignorant of the unique myths and qualities of the forest, and she could also guess at what was happening. Taffy's heart began to pound in anxious anticipation. Sky pirates, attacking a traveler...and they're headed toward the forest! Don't they realize that they'll all crash if they get too close?!

As if on cue, the smaller craft veered away to one side or the other. Only one pursuer remained on the tail of the traveler's vehicle, and as if they struck an invisible bar suspended in the sky, first one and then the other plane stuttered in midair and began to fall toward the forest. Unable to do anything to stop the crash, Taffy watched in paralyzed tension as the airplanes tumbled away from each other toward the ground. She was so focused on watching the vehicles plummet that she didn't register that someone jumped out of each plane and parachuted down into the forest. The biplane landed far enough away that Taffy couldn't even hear it crash, but the first plane came almost directly toward her before it broke through the canopy of trees maybe a mile or two away by her reckoning. Branches and leaves snapped loudly and rapidly enough to sound almost like a single extended noise rather than countless smaller ones, and it ended with a crunch and the scream of twisted metal as the plane tore a hole open. A storm of birds rose in squawking terror from the forest in all directions around the crash site, which now looked like a gaping wound in the red, yellow and brown "flesh" of the treetops. A plume of black smoke rose into the sky to mark the location even further.

The rumble that shook the ground also brought Taffy out of her horrified paralysis. That pilot may be hurt! she thought as she pumped her legs in a run down the side of the cliff. She followed a series of switchbacks along a dusty trail that deposited her right at the edge of the forest. I need to help whoever was on it! Quickly!

Taffy dashed through the forest, her gym-trained body rewarding her with the strength to keep going. She was not especially strong or fast, but she made up for that with pure dogged endurance as she loped along, her striped tail and braid flying behind her. She entered the trees and passed under their shade, and was assaulted by the sickly-sweet smell of rotting fruit along with the crackle of dead leaves underfoot that sprayed behind her like a colorful wake.

For this to happen today...

She reached a familiar creek, and she sped up as she aligned herself toward a place as narrow as she could find. Then she launched herself with a leap and a "Hup!" and...

Taffy grunted as she landed off-balance onto the other side, leaves wet from the creek sliding under her foot. She recovered quickly by rolling with the fall back upright, a feat accomplished more by momentum and adrenaline than by any actual acrobatic skill. She paused briefly as she felt sweat break out over her whole body, and she sighed to herself through her panting breaths.

Why am I putting myself through this? she thought as she caught her breath and steadied herself, then moved forward, slower but with sure steps. Why do I put myself through all this pain?

Nevertheless, Taffy pressed on through the forest, and she reached the artificial break in the trees where she could see the metal frame of the plane where it dug up a deep furrow in the ground. One of the wings was bent at a low, awkward angle, and the front of the plane was buried in the dirt. A small fire had broken out toward the rear of the plane, and she was suddenly struck by the fear that the vehicle might explode at any moment.

"Hey!" she called out as she ducked under the crooked wing and clambered up to the side door of the plane, then tried to pull the handle. It was jammed! Taffy glanced into the windows to try to see how many occupants there were, but they were dirty from the smoke and dirt of the crash and it was difficult for her to make anything out. "If anyone's in there, I'm here to help!"

The raccoon lady braced her feet against the sides of the door and pulled with all of her strength, muscles on her white-furred neck bulging with the effort. "Darn you, c'mon!" she bit out between gritted teeth. Why didn't the pilot say anything? Or could she not hear them over the roaring of the flames that belched foul smoke, that smelled of burnt oil and cinderized leaves?

Am I too late, again?

---

---

Part 1: Homecoming

Location: Edge of Arneb Space, ~30k AU from Quadrant Barrier
Taxan Date: 59 Nexa, 1081 HWK
Terran Date: January 1st, 2483 AD

The upper docking bay was colder than usual. Maybe it was the increased security, the lines of overstuffed Nobles in their maroon and black armored longcoats and bodysuits ringing the area around them. Though it’d been already a year since he’d been home, it could be that as well. The little ship he’d been on for last few months was certainly more homey than this leviathan of a starcruiser he’d called home for the decades before. A human stood in front of a young creature that looked something between a human and animal. The human seemed more amused at the display around them rather than intimidated. The boy gave one of their number a covert obscene gesture.

“We better get gone before they GET us gone kid. You sure you’re ok here? They did take my little present did they?” The man spoke with the smarmy mocking timber of any twenty something who already thought he knew the universe. A smirk crawled its way onto the youth’s face, though upset he couldn’t keep this two families at once, “Na’way, got it right here.” He patted his chest before nodding at the security guards. “Sparky sent ‘em down here. Da will yell about it later, don worry. If ya wanna stay for a bit...”

The human glanced back at his ship awkwardly. “Nah, Tobias said you guys are headed straight back across the Barrier. Don’t wanna get caught in whatever that causes.” The young man nodded. Another few moments of silence blundered by be another voice barked out from the ship, “Stop being macho and say goodbye dammit!” The human grumbled and rolled his eyes, “I swear I’m dropping him off in deep space… well… cya around kid.” He moved back into the ship as the boy rubbed one of the bright pink colored sleeves of his sweatshirt sheepishly for another moment. But as the man reached the final step he grunted and stomped forward, “Ag man… Joel!” The human stopped again and looked back.

The stocky little otter’s face twisted from snark to serious in a moment, a breath went in and both unnatural language and accent came out carefully controlled. Bouncing across the words like an animal hopping through the grass. “U vahra ma, rusati ma, ven atha ma.” The man’s smirk faded, knowing the meaning and sincerity of those words despite this fluffy sounding cadence. He gave the boy a genuine smile and a nod, “Careful with that, I may find a way across that damn Barrier and hold you to it.” He chuckled and hoisted himself the rest of the way in calling back, “Keep these other ‘moffie’ bastards in line for me till then, ok?”

The boy folded his arms and smiled, watching the hatch for the ship close and, a few moments, its liftoff and departure.

Behind him the large set of double doors slid open, an aging looking rabbit with unnaturally yellow fur walked into the docking platform area wearing a ratty old auburn coat. The otter looked back at him for a moment, a look of concern replacing the smile. “Where ya been, Da? Joel an’ the others already left.” The old lapine sighed, “Sorry Yoyo, was in an argument with Rick over leaving so fast. But he doesn’t want to wait ‘til Ben recovers, he says we need to leave ASAP.” The man shook his head, “It’s nothing against your friends out here but after the condition Ben and Robin are in? Some of the Warden are calling for Henox’nacaka.” The young otter bared his teeth, “Ja right? Fok’eads wanna trample rodent rights then use ‘em to start a fokking war? Typical.” He grunted and sneered at one of the Warden as they passed him to leave the bay. The rabbit sighed again, “It’s not that simple Yonath, you know that. Come on, let’s head to the bridge and watch the show. The inside of the Barrier is definitely interesting, you know, for a… what was it Rick said? Quantochronodimensional Compression Zone?.” The youth snorted and followed the man into the corridor, “That ain’t a fokking word an he knows it, just trying to look smart.” He paused, adding before the conversation continued, “How’s Ben?” The rabbit looked grim, “He’ll be fine in a few days.” The otter’s eyes narrowed, “How’s Robbie?” The man didn’t answer immediately. “Toby. How. Is. Robbie?” Tobias looked down, “Minor dehydration and malnutrition, some of their questioning may have been a bit too… personal.”

Tobias could feel the testosterone starting to boil in the youth. “The F.R.S. didn’t exactly follow Taxan prisoner laws, course they didn’t know we existed till now so we’re… forgiving that.” “She’s still a FOKKIN’ PERSON!” There was an odd glow to the boy’s emerald eyes, an odd glow the rabbit knew very well, and one that made him shudder. “Where they at? Medical?” Toby nodded, “Yonath you can’t see them till tomorrow. Micah doesn’t want anyone down there yet till he’s sure of… well whatever he’s looking for.” Yonath’s face soured, “Whatever ‘e’s looking for!? Da you STILL run this ship right? Blerrie hell just order ‘im to TELL ya!”

The ship shuddered, sending the smaller boy into the rabbit’s arms as he braced himself. “Looks like we already entered the Barrier.” The man spoke up smirking, the youth didn’t push away immediately, it’d been months since he’d even seen his adopted father. He stayed where he was for a just a moment, a convenient excuse for accidental affection. The ship continued to shudder slightly, the otter jerked away mocking, “Get off ya moffie, go hug ya buck ‘er something.” He gave a triumphant pose, “Guess that means I go straight ta medical, ha.”

Tobias gave him a bemused glare, “No, you can go secure that mess you call a room.” A devilish smirk covered the boy’s face, “druk 'n dagga, druk a drol, druk 'n vinger in jou hol, Da!” He turned and darted down the corridor for the lift.

Suddenly the floor shook, the whole ship shuddered as audible sounds of metal buckling deafened them before a massive jolt darkened the hallway, sending the otter headfirst the wall and into darkness.

He woke an unknown amount of time later, his backpack was in his lap now, his vision was a little blurry but he could see his adopted father reach over and push his head back then the feeling of a cold cloth running over his temple.

“Worst is over, the ship half tore itself apart Tobe but we’re… well we’re somewhere.” The voice was a surrogate uncle of his, Derrick Strider, he’d run the Vao Hrayao orphanage all of them had met at. It seemed like a million years ago now.

Another round of shuddering, alarms sounded, a piercing migraine split his skull open with pain. He could hear the rabbit shouting over it, “B.D.A. STRIDER! NOW!”

The alert droned, “AUTOMATIC ALERT. DEFCON 1. SHIP STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY IS BELOW DANGER THRESHOLD. EVACUATION PROCEDURE INITIATED.”

He clamped his eyes shut, trying to ignore the sirens, focusing on Derrick and Toby instead.

“Rick, what’s going on now? Medical isn’t responding, I think he’s got a concussion, where the hell IS everyone?” His father’s voice was frustrated and panicking. There was a moment as the alarms quieted to a low roar, he glanced up to see the slightly overweight skunk looking at them with quiet shock. “Port side wing is gone, it ripped straight through medical. Tobe, there isn’t a Medical anymore.”

The sound of the alert droning in the background continued as the mean stared quietly at each other for a moment. The skunk darted down the corridor and Yonath felt himself being picked up, “Hold on to your backpack, Yony.”

The world started to darken again, he struggled to speak over the blaring noise, “Dad, I didn’t...”

He woke up again, the red lights of the lower level storage compartment were around him, he felt himself being laid down. His senses started to return. He was in an upright chair of some kind, no it was some kind of a chamber or pod. The backpack was being looped around his shoulders and the rabbit was buckling him in, “Yoyo, keep ahold of your backpack”

His mouth tasted like iron and felt like sandpaper, words were hard to push out, “I didn’t….” The man put a hand on his cheek, “Yoyo, just hold on for little bit. We can talk on the surface. We’re going to try to land on a nearby planet. When you wake up we should be already building some shelters...” “DROEGEMEIER WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” Derrick and his young son burst onto the scene, the man was irate.

The rabbit’s face was etched with concern, “Rick, you have my authorization to abort Yellow Star and use the pod for Arven.” The other man’s brown eye’s sparkled like gemstones, “That is MY son’s survival pod Tobias, YOU abort Yellow Star.”

The ship shook again as the rabbit slowly turned to look at the enraged man, “Yellow Star is your creation, Rick. I... can’t do it. I’d rather be a thief than a murderer. I’m sorry.” The door to the pod shut as the boy’s senses came back more. He couldn’t hear the men anymore but both started to turn violent, the rabbit fur standing on end. He could see Arven, the man’s son, his friend, running to cower behind anything he could find as sparks started to form in the air itself. He struggled to unbelt himself and forced himself up off of the seat and slammed his fists into the glass of the pod. He could feel the pod starting to slow his vital signs but continued his assault on the glass but another massive jolt flung him back into the seat, his slowed heart rate and consciousness leaving him unable to get back to the glass. The otter only managed one last attempt to speak as his eyes closed, “I didn’t...”

Blackness overtook him.

---

Part 2: The First Day

Location: Deck 9: Cargo Bay
Date: N/A

Consciousness returned, but sight did not. There was nothing but the dark and a hiss as the door meekly unlocked with a hydraulic noise. His body felt weak from the time in suspended animation. He fell forward as his senses returned, knocking the pod door open and falling to the ground in a heap finally finishing the sentence, “...mean to say that.”

For a time the youth lay in pitch blackness, his head hurt, occasionally a high pitched noise in his brain sent him wincing into a ball on the floor. He tried to open his eyes but they already felt open, he he still saw only utter darkness. Gathering up all the saliva left in his mouth to push back the dryness he spoke aloud this time.

“Dad? Rick?” No answer came as he pulled up more spit to keep calling out from his collapsed position on the floor. “I can’t fokkin see. Damn pod fokked up my eyes or something.” Fighting to get his mouth ready to speak again there was only silence, it made him pause. There was noone there, a quiet panic started to settle as the events of the last hour started to process.

He must still be on the bottom deck. Had the ship crashed? Maybe rescue efforts were having trouble getting down here. The ship maybe mostly under the ground or submerged or- Another bout of ringing in his ears crept up on him growing louder and louder until it felt like his ear drums were going to be pop, he grabbed the sides of his head and gritted his teeth.

He woke up again, having passed out from the pain. The fall. The memory popped back into place, the otter reached up and felt the right side of this head, he winced in pain as soon as he touched his temple. The injury was apparently in suspended animation with him, but it explained the intense headaches. He had to get out and to the surface, it was the only option.

“‘Sides...” he spoke out loud to the emptiness around him putting both hands on the ground to lift himself up, “Vao Hrayao... prolly popped loose and is landed up there just now. Gotta keep... those moffies mitts off ma ship.” With a grunt he pushed himself to a sitting position, though there was a weight on his chest. Another moment of panic, another surge of adrenaline thinking he may be more injured than he thought. It woke him up fully and left him cursing the blindness plaguing his attempts at survival. The youth’s hand quickly shot to his chest, trying to slow down so as to not cause more damage.

“EINA!”

His hand collided with a large sack unexpectedly, his mind recalling what it was in a few moments. A moment of hope cross his mind, supplies. He fought through fog realizing the emergency lights were likely making searching extremely difficult, the backpack would have his torch. If nothing else that would attract attention to his location. He dug into the backpack on his chest blindly, feeling around between odd pieces of paper, and kits of various kinds. He’d have to pull them all out and go through them one by one to find the medical kit once he had given the searchers a light source and movement to follow.

Years seemed to follow of pawing around in the dark trying to find what should be a easy task, finally his knuckles met the rubber of the torch’s side. Quickly grabbing it and fumbling for the button a sudden blast of intense light hit his face, his body seized in pain, his mind swam as the the shrill whine came back to shatter his ears. The dysphoria made him dry heave, collapse forward onto the backpack, and close his eyes again.

He woke back up, this time with a jolt, followed by more headache pain. Then the realization came that the blinding light wasn’t another attack but rather… real. He’d fallen unconscious and prone over his backpack holding the torch, it was now illuminating part of the room. There was a momentarily leap in his heart that he wasn’t blind, but it only grew the concern. If the emergency lights had failed, that meant the antimatter cores were completely offline as well as all battery reserves and solar panels.

Yonath rolled over and sat up and sat back up, lifting a hand and gingerly feeling his forehead while trying to parse what would cause such a catastrophic loss of power. He winced again as he got to his temple, feeling hesitantly around where he’d slammed into the wall earlier. A wet feeling prevaded on his hand, he didn’t need to put it in the light to know what it was. Then came his eyes finally adjusting to the light, and taking in what was in front of him. The dirty bare metal of the cargo bay was nothing new, but a cringe twisted his face as the blackened skeleton became recognizable.

He shuffled back to wall away from it, unsure what to expect. Sitting in silence staring at the decrepit thing for several minutes. The boy’s mind parsed the scene and the previous hour, the cringe lessened into an almost disappointed scowl before words escaped his mouth easier this time. “Sorry Rick, but you shoulda known what Da would do.” He sighed talking to himself had always been something he preferred to do, it helped make thoughts real… solid. Moving one leg around, then the other, testing them to make sure they weren’t injured. The otter passed the light over his legs and arms, then used it to root around the backpack his father had strapped to him. Most of it was just stuff he always kept ready, but it looked like other things had been hurriedly crammed into it. An obviously marked first aid kit, emergency kit, and repair kit from the engineering deck had been crammed on top of his personal stuff. He grunted, no wonder it was so heavy, they’d stuffed the thing full.

The emergency kit came out, all of these had headlamps with elastic bands in them. He winced and groaned fitting the thing around the obvious wound on his head. The other torch went back to the belt on his shorts after he’d rearranged some of the top items to make the pack less bulky. With that finally done he stood up fully, finally, a wave of dizziness and nausea hit but the youth managed to stay standing and conscious this time. He swung the backpack into position and walked over, nudging the skunk-shaped skull of the skeleton and shaking his head. As he did so the other pod came into view and with it another leap of his heart and a double take, it was open. He started to job over but almost fell again from a combination of dizziness and the weight of the pack, slowly to a walk he strode over. The pod was empty. Yonath looked around with furrowed brow, no body, no marks in the dust. A glance back at the pod and a raised eyebrow proceeded a shrug, there wasn’t anything else to do here, but whatever had been in the pod wasn’t there now.

---

Part 3: Cura Te Ipsum

It wasn’t hard to find the lift and find a pry bar, though the one he’d uncovered looked a million years old it completed the task of opening the doors. The usual black rubber around the doors was gone and made them easier to open, they’d likely been ripped out due to the hull breach he heard before he’d been put in the pod.

The lift was gone, though he’d expected that with the air seals torn out, it was likely floating through space now. He looked around the cavity, grinning as he spotted the maintenance hatch. While most of the engineering team had marvelled at his ability to navigate the labyrinth of maintenance tubes that extended along the 700 meter long ship, the security team had never been so keen on him and his friends moving through the ship out of sight of their cameras and purposefully tripping proximity alarms for them to investigate. The youth giggled a bit climbing the ladder hidden without the wall of the lift, this was going to be easier than he first thought. He imagined poking his head out from the Deck 3 bar, known as Threefore, and find out his father Tobias had had the whole Order trying to carve open the heavily armored battleship’s side to get him out.
Suddenly he could hear something, a drill maybe? The whine immediately crescendoed exponentially and his head started to swim. Panic came, he glanced down into a black pit, he’d been climbing for a long time. The otter couldn’t even hear himself cry out over the ringing in his ears as a massive wave of vertigo and pain slammed into his brain like a sledge hammer. He tried desperately to lock his arms and legs onto the ladder and brace himself, clamping his eyes shut to keep from throwing up again.

Yonath opened his eyes, he felt…. Weightless, but his legs hurt. As the pain subsided and his vision cleared he realized he was slowly swinging back and forth. The upside down words “DECK 4” were marred into the doors in front of him, as if paint had eaten into the metal. A sharp pain shot through his right leg.

“Ag!” The youth used a burst of energy from his left leg and tail to shove himself up enough to grab the ladder. He fallen backward, legs catching the ladder they were wound around. He’d been hanging upside down and unconscious for some amount of time. Shoving his cramping and injured bare leg outward straight to try to recover he glanced at the doors again. Deck 4 was the medical bay. His eyes softened, it wouldn’t hurt to at least check… would it? He glanced up, grabbing for the torch on his belt. It was still there, thank the stars for small miracles. Tilting upward made his face sour into a pout, the lift had smashed into the maintenance tunnel not but a floor up, blocking his path. The boy mused it was a sign he was right about checking the medical wards for his brother and girlfriend.

He waited for a few minutes for his leg to uncramp and recover some, then another few just to make sure the migraine didn’t come back again, finally he slowly moved around the ladder and hopped to the platform beside it. He yelped out again and fell over into a heap, it seemed the ladder incident had injured his leg. He gave an utterance of words that would have peeled any paint left on the walls, then opened the hatch and crawl into the lift cavity proper. The narrow ledge around it plus his aching leg made getting to the door exceptionally dangerous, however seeing as he’d lugged the heavy pry bar with him…. Of course the door had been blow open by depressurization. He wormed his way into the bay and sat down on the floor to rest a minute grumbling, “Course it was open, got fokkin’ dad’s luck, swear...” He glanced around with the torch while resting. The bay was completely empty, the lights had no coverings or filament lamps, likely blow out by the… He froze, eyes widening as the smell of soil was suddenly keenly apparent to him. To his right where the wall lined with Transmat rooms should be… was a wall of dirt spilling into the ship and covering the port side of the deck under several feet of earth.

“Bosbefok...” The youth muttered eyes moving as if analyzing the spectacle before him. How did this happen? Was the ship on it’s side? No, gravity was clearly correct and the artificial gravity couldn’t be online with all the power in the ship being dead. Though trying to thinking about up not really being up made his head spin for a moment, he made a mental note not to consider that one again. He waited until he started getting restless again and stood back up muttering, “Can’t let them dig their way in before I climb out, ha.”

As he moved to the unburied side of the ship and walked down the darkened hallway he considered it. This was halfway up the ship and it didn’t feel tipped to one side… “Urp..” He pushed more thoughts of altered equilibrium away and focused. That would mean at least 70 meters of Odyssey was buried under the dirt. He couldn’t fathom how fast the ship would have had to be going to slid far enough along the ground to bury that much of it. He looked upward and wondered if he’d even be able to get out through the Threefore windows. He may have to travel all the way to the bridge via the maintenance tubes, he pouted a little thinking how long that would take. So much for a quick escape, and he was already dragging his feet with fatigue. In fact… He stopped and looked down, realizing the carpet was… gone. It looked like it’d be turned to dust or something. The neat white carpet and green stripe marking starboard were all gone, just rusted metal in their place. ‘Exposure to vacuum must do all kinds of weird shit to carpet and rubber’ he thought to himself shrugging and rounding the corner to the treatment wards. They were all closed, he smiled, maybe one stayed sealed? Yonath jogged forward as best he could with his leg and head dogging him every step, one by one the wards were pryed open with all the strength he had. He worked feverishly tearing all 16 wards open even though his head was pounding even worse and cold sweat poured down his face and into the wound on his temple. One by one they were all devoid of air seals and empty. ‘Maybe they grabbed an air tank’, ‘maybe they...’ He felt light headed… then paused, smiling broadly at the final ward. It looked almost new save some rust, the rubber all intact. “Awe!” The little otter yelped and jammed the bar in and pushing… then shoving… then kicking… He flopped down panting, exhausted, hot, and thirsty.

“Yeah… I had to climb out a hole in the ceiling to get outta there.”

There was never a point in his life he’d been so glad to hear that whiney, nasally, voice. His pupils shrunk as the surge of relief washed over him. He fell backward and let his head fall backward looking behind him. A beanpole of a raccoon stood leaning against the wall looking coy. “Yoyo, jeez man, take a rest already. You look like the dark side of Eath Hombra.”

There was a childish smile on the otter’s face, “Ben?! Ya fokkin’ trashmuncher… I been trying to SAVE your asses and you been sittin’ there doing fokkol.” The raccoon suddenly looked grim, “I… can’t find Robin.” Yonath’s smile faded, he rolled over and wobbly sat back up, “Dat right…” The older boy walked over and quietly sat down beside him, “I knew you’d somehow survive, Yoyo. War didn’t get ya. Warden’s didn’t get ya. Will take more than a massive shipwreck to kill my little brother, eh?” Yonath felt his eyes droop, “Ja, bro.” He half heartedly glanced to one side, the raccoon was smiling empathetically, “It might be late out, we just can’t tell… you know… underground. Maybe you should clean your head up and bandage it with the kit in your bag, you can get some sleep after that, heh. Need help?” The otter shook his head to clear it, “Na’way, I got it. Check tha other rooms again, Robbie maybe in one. We can crawl ta the Promenade after I can this damn thing covered and get a few hours sleep in, ja nee?”

The raccoon nodded, watching hesitantly while Yonath struggled back to his feet again and stumbled to the bathroom. Inside he looked into the mirror, seeing himself for the first time since the crash through a mirror darkly. Bloodshot green eyes stared back at him, there was a twinge of hopelessness in his mind as he saw not but a faint glint of viridian starlight in them. He put a hand on his cheek and pulled down on it in veiled frustration, nearly a whole third of the right side of his face his face was matted with blood and grime. He set the medical kit down, instinctively turning the faucet handle before remembering nothing worked and sighing loudly. He glanced down at the emergency kit, it would have a small water container and assorted personal care items, the boy shook his head, realizing there were decks of this to go, wasting supplies cleaning up now would be an asinine move.

“Remember to use the antibiotic stuff!” His older brother’s nagging made him roll his eyes, though he dug around to find a set of packed wipes and ointment before setting to work trying to clean the large gash on the side of this head. It took some time as for some reason the blood had already dried and matted the area, “Guess the damn klap to the head’s been knocking me out longer than a minute.” He yelped back outside almost bragging at the older boy as he worked to get enough of the wound clean to wrap it.

His arms had started to feel a little weak at this point, but he’d been crowbarring doors and wiping gunk off his head for quite awhile now so it was expected. He finished securing an elastic bandage around his head to hold the various clotting and packing bandages and stepped back to admire his handiwork before putting what was left back into the kit and stuffing it in his bag and stumbling back outside into the waiting area. “Got one of those weird foil blankets in there?” The raccoon asked rubbing his arms. Yonath half sat and half fell down beside him and dug out the kit again, ripping open another package in it and unfurling a mylar blanket for them.

“I think my arms are gonna fall off after getting outta there, Jojo.” The taller youth was starting to sound as fatigued as he was. Yonath snorted, trying to clear the dust and debris from an area of floor to sleep on, “You ain’t climb up five floors wortha lift. Ag man, I passed out once I got up here, woke up fokkin’ hanging by ma bad leg. Is really a bad leg now, ya?”

“Maybe… you know… We should just stay here till they come get us.” The older boy said quietly, staring at the ground. “We’re only a few decks down, they may be here before we even wake up. We have food packs for a few days.” As he spoke the otter rose and wobbled over, the raccoon flopped backward, narrowing avoiding a small brown fist meekly batting the air where his shoulder at been.. The otter chuckled, “See, ya’in better shape then me. If I can keep goin’, so can you.” Yonath folded and rubbed his arms moving back to the spot he’d cleared off, “Just wish it wasn’t so fokkin’ cool down here.”

“You could turn on your comlet. I’m not really that cold so maybe you’re sick or something.” Ben prodded, referring to the small metal armbands they both wore. In another life they’d been everything from phone to laptop, now it would be an extremely limited resource for scanning everything from topography or injuries. The otter shook his head, “Nah, ain’t gonna go through the hull without power in the ship so we can’t contact dad. I ain’t hurt that bad either, would just waste the battery.” The raccoon considered it and nodded, shutting his own off as well before laying down and pulling half the blanket over him. Yonath flopped over as well huddling down next to his brother under the thin blanket, shivering most of the night.

“Night rudderbutt.”

“Night trashpanda.”

The otter shut his eyes and finally relaxed.

---

Part Four: Dark before Dawn

Yonath woke up with a start, his head throbbed. He rolled over but his brother was gone. There was a moment of panic before he hear humming… then quiet singing. An old song popular on Kyzarie’s sister planet of Sibko, a wealth of odd culture of all kinds.

“Sousa kanashimi wo yasashisa ni, jibun rashisa wo chikara ni.
mayoi nagara demo ii aruki dashite… mou ikkai… mou ikkai...”

The otter smiled lightly to himself. They’d been working on the song for their band to play when everything went south over a year ago. While they’d been separated and stranded a million miles from home he’d settled on a translation for it so the ship could understand it if they didn’t speak East Sibken dialects. He rubbed his swelling head under the bandage and sat up. Ben seemed to have gone through kit and gotten some food packs out with some water pouches. Still humming the tune… Yonath cleared his throat, it was dry and his voice cracked a lot but he managed to hit the right notes.

“Turn your tears and your sadness to kindness and faith,
and make your faults in-to your greatest strength.
It's okay to get lost along the way, you have to walk to run...
One more time…”

The raccoon smirked, “One more time… ya. Hah, tears to sadness… wait kindness to faith? I think you’ve been listening to dad too much… er… that reminds me.” His face fell as he pointed to the dirt ridden side of the ship. “I… dunno how to say it. Er… over there.” There was a suddenly silence as his stomach pitted at the implication. Yonath wobbled to his feet and walked over to the dirt pile moving the torch around to look for something he dreaded finding. After a few minutes the torch caught a glint of metal, and a skull with two small rounded horns came into focus. He felt his mind swim again, eyes watering as he knelt down to look at the corpse. The last remnants of a light blue garment turned to dust when he touched them, slowly pulling a still partially shiny necklace up, the cross dangling in front him. “Sorry Yoyoball… I was singing so I didn’t think about it… We’re going to have to hold dad up after this. He’s not going to be ok.”

Yonath turned the crucifix over in his hand, it looked very old but still held some shine. He clenched his fist for a moment, then sniffed loudly and put the trinket on. “He.. must have been on the third deck when the ship crashed. There’s… sorta a way up to it here.” Yonath didn’t answer, stuffing the cross behind his jacket and running his light along the torn opening. It was about 20 feet above them above them but the hill of dirt seemed to be angled enough to climb. He walked back over and dug around in the medical kit, pulling out a few pill bottles and downing several kinds with the water pouch before speaking, “Gotta wait till those hit. Too fucked up.” The raccoon looked on empathetically, “Anti-inflams… yeah… good idea. Better eat something with those other ones though.”

Time passed and the two ate a prepacked ration. It was dry and tasted like salted cardboard, after a bit he could feel energy coming back and the medicine finally bringing the swelling down. He stood back up, a little easier this time, grumbling, “Still sweating but I’m cold, probably shock or something. Ja Benji, whack me if I start seeing fokken kak, ya?” The raccoon chuckled, “I need an excuse? You wanna talk to the walls go right ahead, heh.”

The climb up the dirt mound to the third deck was irritating, there was no way to keep from getting covered in filth as the loose dirt was next to impossible to climb. Though finally after what felt like hours he grabbed the broken metal of the third deck. Sudden he saw a hand reach down and grab his wrist, the raccoon had beaten him somehow. He weakly wrenched himself up with the last of his strength and rolled away from the edge panting and gasping, “Jesus fokken fok Benji, ya no help at all! Didn’t even feel like you were TRYING to pull me up.” He slowly caught his breath, realizing the older boy hadn’t said anything at all yet. He rolled his head over to look where he’d gone, Ben was standing quietly staring down towards the front of the ship, where the lift was. It didn’t long to see why, and the reason made his stomach turn over. Deck 3 was also called the Promenade, it held dozens of shops and stores of all kinds. Now, however, it only held dozens of skeletons of varying races and sizes that seemed to be clustered around the lift doors.

He rolled over, having to push himself to his knees with his already exhausted arms before he was able to stagger back to his feet. With a final few pants the now dirt covered otter wobbled to his older brother’s side and stared at the gruesome sight. A pile of bones and debris, it looked like they’d been trying to get into the lift. Yonath suddenly remember what he saw from the bottom of the lift. “Lift is jammed into the maintenance shaft, door’s likely broke and the whole thing is in sy moer in. They… couldn’t get out, but… if they survived the crash...”

The raccoon finally spoke, “They… starved to death trying to get out.”
Yonath blinked and ran a light over the bead bodies of people he likely had known for years… now unrecognizable. “If they’d been down here this long…” There was a flicker in his mind, a moment of clarity, he reached down and turned the comlet on before setting it calibrate. “Stupid thing should adjust for time based on the readings of the… ship...”

The otters pupil dilated staring at the small holographic readout. Ben moved to look over his shoulder at the date.

3-66-2017

The otter sputtered over his words, “Two…. two thou…. What?” The raccoon gave an interested “Huh” before adding, “It’s grandma’s birthday.” Yony slowly rotated his bandaged head to stare at his brother in a stupor for a moment before yelping, “Ya stupid trashmunchin’ idiot, it says its 2017. That is like 900 fokken years off!” The lanky youth stepped back and looked thoughtful, “Well, I mean, the Barrier had temporal energy and Little Goat being temporal and stuff… Maybe I just don’t age or something.” The otter put a hand to his head and rubbed his uninjured temple, “Dammit stop being dumb, you still had ta eat and you’d KNOW if you spent 900 years in a med ward.” Ben shrugged, “I got no clue bro, maybe the barrier just happened to like time jump me or something, you know I dunno how that crap works.”

Yonath turned the comlet off before meekly threw his arms up and walking to the air vent, “It’s just fokked is all, stop with the time jumpin’ talk and let’s get outta here. I’m not letting dad hear about… well dad from some asshole. We only got two more decks to get passed.” The raccoon shrugged again and followed him as Yonath used the prybar to wrench loose the hatch. “Gettin good at this kak, ja? Haha. Ready for some climbin’?” Ben wrinkled his nose, “Lucky I’m still skinny enough to fit into these darn things.” The otter smirked and started tying a rope to his prybar. “What… are you doing?” Ben mused raising an eyebrow. Yonath finished tying the other end of the rope to his backpack before moving the backpack to his chest. “Other end of this will have another vent we gotta break out. This way I can just drag the fokkin’ thing with us instead of havin’ to carry the bladdie thing.”

The pair vanished into the maze of ventilation ducts in the ship, the constant metal and metal scraping of the bar behind them. It was another stroke of luck as the top three decks of the ship contained the ‘habitation’ parts of the ship, this was the primary haunt for Yonath and his other young friends seeking to escape the eyes of the other crew and Warden Knights. The Living quarters ranged from small military rooms to the two story Underwood Estate he and Ben had lived in with their family and friends. Yony stopped and started fumbling around in the pack… they could stop for a bit to rest and see what they could salvage from the Estate. “Aweh, wonder if my dagga made it… We could just...” “Jeez, really Yony? Your stupid drug stash? We just saw half the ship’s corpses including our other dad and you’re thinking about that!?” The raccoon snapped, catching up behind him. Yonath growled right back, “Das why I want my shit, asshole. I can NOT deal with this shit much longer, iz like a fokken nightmare.” He paused for a moment and took out another water pouch and the pills again, “Fine… fokkit… we’ll just fokken come back and swipe it while they’re cleaning up the mess. Lemme take this shit for ma fokken ‘ead and we can hol.”

As they climbed the vent to the first deck the older boy called up quietly, “Sorry Jojo, it’s just...” The otter sighed to himself keeping his pace and talking backward, “It’s not a thing, just keep moving, can argue once we are outta this kakhuis.”

It took just over an hour or so for them to move through the military quarters of the first deck the otter picking up speed the whole time. The combination of constant medication and muscle memory of the area nearly tripling his speed. The annoying scraping the prybar behind him was now just a tuned out background noise. The otter called back, “Yo Ben! Meds working their magic! Keep up! We are almost there. Ha! They are going to be so freaked out when we hit the bridge!” He powered ahead, even if Ben fell behind he could always come back and drag him along once he’d alerted the rescue parties to their presence.

Another corner, a rush of air, it was so close now. He fumbled in the tight vent and flopped onto his face. The boy winced as a pain shot through his body from fatigue, his arms and legs felt like jello but the cold sweat had stopped entirely, the fog over his brain burning away.

A few minutes went by, fresh air was now filling his lungs, clearing many of the cobwebs that had been infesting his brain while in the tomb of a starship. For a moment he forgot about his aching muscles and throbbing head. He even forgot the horrors of seeing his adopted father and friends decayed to old bones. There was light… after almost two days there was light… real light. He practically clawed his way through the last section of vent to the hatch, then dragged the bar up to him with the rope muttering, “Be listening to ya for fokken hours ya dikgat clankin piece of shit, time to be useful.”

The hatch fell loose with a little percussive maintenance from the prybar and the stocky little otter tumbled out in a ball onto soft soil. He rolled his back and stretched out with all limbs including his tail as far as they all would go, breathing a massive sigh of relief. He paused for a moment, then furrowed his brow. Ben had not come out of the vent.

He stood up and looked around, blinking the light of the day. The view around him sent his eyes to pinpoints, a wave of nausea and panic shook him to his core. The bridge glass was not just broken, or gone, but he realized he’d landed on dirt. Around him was a crater in the soil overgrown with plants of kinds, the canopy of a forest looming overhead. Barely any metal could be seen jutting out of the ground where the bridge of the Odyssey should have been.

“W-what.. What is… Ben..ji?”

He weakly looked at the empty vent, then slowly stood and dropped his pack, still looking around in abject horror before slowly crawling back inside the vent.

“BEN! Stop fokken around!”

There was no answer, then came the realization he hadn’t said anything for well over an hour. The youth started to shake, then took off angrily down the vent, “FOK YOU! BEN! GET BACK HERE!” Corner after corner there was nothing, he reach the drop they’d climbed to get between the decks and yelled down, “BEN SAY SOMETHIN’!” A creeping feeling began to fester in his brain, he used the cross junction to turn back around, waving the torch around down the drop.

But Ben had helped him up the dirt wall…

“Jesus fokken fok Benji, ya no help at all! Didn’t even feel like you were TRYING to pull me up.”

But he’d slept beside him…

Then remembered shivering all night long.

“FOK NO!” The yell rang out and echoed through the vents. The otter slid down the vertical vent and tore through the deck vents, bursting out of the Deck 3 hole he’d come in by in less than hour and frantically moving his torch around floor looking for tracks in the dust and dirt to follow. However as he ran his light towards the hole down to deck 4, there was only one set of footprints that had disturbed the years of dust.

He felt water starting to cloud his vision, he turned around stormed back up the vent in a quiet rage. By the time he reach the surface again night was falling, he weakly crawled out of the vent and lay next to his pack, unable to stop the tears. He didn’t want to go back to the medical deck, he knew what he’d find. He crawled over and put his head on his pack and trying to sleep.

---

Part 5: Demons Run

The otter opening still damp and blurry eyes as the sun began to shine through the canopy of the forest. He pulled himself to a sitting position and looked around, it was hard to believe the whole ship was buried. Odyssey was just a cavernous tomb now. He turned the comlet back on and stared at the date.

3-67-2017

“Nex’ona six’y seven… Ta’thousand… seventeen.” He rolled the date off his tongue still trying to parse what he was seeing. It had been 1081 when he last saw the date. It was a matter of history that before mainstream acceptance of interspecies mating the Kydane lived extremely long lives but this… Even they wouldn’t have lived this long. He did the math in his head, it seemed his faculties were back, and may stay that way provided he kept the treatment going.

He considered that thought again, staring longingly at the vent. Maybe if he stopped taking the antibiotics and antiinflammatories… No. That was stupid, talking to hallucinations and ignoring the injury just for… He continued to stare at the vent, standing up and walking towards it before tripping over the backpack and being sent staggering to one side helplessly trying to regain balance and falling onto a lump of dirt.

“EINA!”

He cried up as something jabbed his rear like a spear. He flopped forward and landed on the ground, jumping up angrily and grabbing the prybar before beating the lump of dirt repeatedly. It felt… good. All the frustration of it was coming out, his arms already hurt but he just couldn’t stop. He couldn’t DO anything, it was all already over.

*WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHUMP*

The sound of something odd made him pause, panting for breath, something orangish brown had been revealed as he’d beaten the dirt away from what looked like a half destroyed chair of some kind.

*whump-whump*

His hands went limp realizing what he was looking at, the prybar thumping to the ground. The otter staggered over and began clawing at the remaining dirt away to reveal a partially mangled skeleton still wearing a tattered auburn coat. The lapine shaped skull make the boy’s heart stop, even though at this point he’d known this was true, he uttered the word with complete defeat, “Dad?”

His eyes were dilated with shock, they moved from the dead rabbit’s skeleton to the coat. Even after a millennia the damned thing STILL would not rot away. Fear turned to utter rage, a wild kind of emerald sparkle welled up with the tears. The otter turned and snatch up the prybar again and tore into the coat with sheer feral rage stabbing and beating the ancient garment and screaming foreign obscene phrases and his voice gave out and his hands bled from the rusted metal bar.

Undaunted Yonath tossed the bloodstained bar aside and grabbed the coat, trying to tear it off the bones. Nothing he did damaged it, he pulled and yanked on the leather-like coat, straining as if it weighed too lift. Slowly, bit by bit, he was able to drag the garment off the remains. It fell with a loud thud. The boy glared at it for a few moments, then stormed over and opened the last two water pouches and drank both at once. He spend a few minutes cleaning the wounds on his hands and tending his head wound, all with an ugly scowl on his face. Suddenly a devilish grin came over his face, the water pouches did the job. With barely withstrained glee the young man pranced over to the coat, unzipped his pants, and let out a satisfied sigh of contentment as he relieved himself on it. Finishing with a shake and a spit, “Fok off, piece of fokken shit.”

He glanced back to the backpack, it’d fallen over when he’d tripped over it, a small brown keepsake box had fallen out. The otter’s eyes lit up.

---

Part 6: The Last Warden

A day later some of the bridge looked to have been excavated in places that got the most light. A makeshift cord was attached to a Yony-less comlet and plugged into a cleaned up outlet in an excavated wall. Nearby three mounds of dirt sat with makeshift signs in some foreign language. Yonath was lying in the excavated chair from the previous day, though he’d used the thermal blanket to erect a sunshade over it and had a small fire going. The boy himself was sprawled out on the ground by the fire with an oddly content grin on his face, a sickly sweet smell hung in the air the peace was shaken by the crescendoing roar of a burning engine.

The boy giggled, “An’ I thought Benji was a bad pilot, hehe.” He was shook from his stupor by the VERY nearby explosion. He heard the obvious sounds of someone crashing through the underbrush as well as a yelp,"If anyone's in there, I'm here to help!" Suddenly realizing explosions and yelling meant other people the young man shook himself to a lucid state, adjusted his bandage, grabbed his comlet, snatched up a small white object, stuck it between is lips and stood up, peering over the crater wall and watch the woman trying valiant to open the crashed plane. He grunted to himself, “Kap-e' Nenxale.” Then glanced first at the makeshift graves… then the previously piss covered coat… then back at the woman.

There was a wrinkled nose pout that formed on the boy’s face, he glance through the three again, this time groaning loudly and jogging over to the coat, “Oh fok off Da I’m going...” He grabbed the coat, trying to wrench what looked like an absurdly heavy trenchcoat up off the ground but to no avail. He dropped it again and started to yelp at the grave, “SEE?! FOK OFF! I CAN’T LEARN WHAT’S NEVER SHOWN, DA!” He folded his arms glaring at the pile of dirt in defiance.

"Darn you, c'mon!"

The woman’s increasingly frustrated voice called out, making the boy’s ears fold down. He glanced over at the rusted prybar, his blood was still dried on one end of it from the previous day. He sucked in a breath and groaned loudly again, “Fer Foks Sake.” With a last frustrated look at the three marked piles of dirt the otter darted for the prybar and lept over the crater wall. Instantly forgetting his leg and landing with a profane cry and falling into a heap on the ground. The otter uttered a string of native profanities and picked up his belongings before taking off again.

Behind Taffy a small brown furred figure in a pink hoodie and tan shorts burst into the clearing wielding a rusty metal bar. He was half covered in dirt, his head, right leg, and both hands were covered in bloody bandages, underneath the filthy elastic bandage on his head was a mop of auburn hair mixed with dirt and dried blood. The boy was running as fast as he could toward the plane, though an obvious limp seemed to threaten to send him to the ground with every step.

Swift flying swallows filtered through the bright blue sky and were deeply contrasted against the strong sun in the azure blue background. The apple of the sky’s eye. Within the scope of the blue sphere was parameter of hazy blue mountains. The very peaks topped with icing like white snow. Greenery and forest trees flourished the scenery. Plummeting to the trough of the mountains were endless streams waterfalls and meandering rivers. All glistening whilst flowing and refracting the sunlight into a spectrum of rainbow lights. All complimented by a light Autumn haze.

An orchestra of life was audibly met through chirping birds, scuttling rodents and buzzing insects. Either gathering food they may have needed before the upcoming winter. Or, migrating elsewhere to escape the harsh temperatures that would be forthcoming in the next few months.

Walking towards edge to take in this view, was a grey reptilian, pint sized Draconi. With a plume of blue hair and tribal like white stripes across his grey scales. His footsteps rustled through the long grass shoots. Until he came to a stop with a couple of final thumps on the ground. For any closer and he’d be stepping off the edge.

Not that he’d fall to his death. No. His wings couldn’t serve him the gift of flight. However, what they could do to compensate was to help him glide to a limited extent. He’d use opportunities like these to jump over larger ledges as he knew he had his wings to defy gravity to a degree.

He was dressed light today. A blue camouflage singlet, combat trousers and a belt with a dagger in one of the slings. He had the bear minimum essentials to help him survive in this beautiful, but mystical and at times, foreboding forest.

He had been venturing through the forest for a long time now. For as long as he could remember. Despite having a destination unknown as of yet, it didn’t matter. The simple life in the outdoor world was all he sought and wanted to maintain. To break away from those habits.

It wasn’t very much to ask for, after all, was it?

Standing for a moment to take it all in, he still couldn’t help but scrutinise the view. A times, he questioned whether it was all real. Or whether it was a dream.

Or an illusion.

And then it happened again. His thoughts, drifting to that place again he promised himself he wouldn’t visit.

Why was he doing it AGAIN?

“Gah…” he winced as his whole body started to feel doused in wooziness.

His bright blue eyes suddenly had a red tint bleeding out the former harmonious colour.

Something that happened, every time his thoughts lurked to that dark place.

His head felt like lead and weighed on his shoulders so hard, he found himself buckling down to his knees. His femur bones felt friable and were obsolete in supporting his weight.

All energy was drained from him as he found the rest of his torso capsizing to the ground. Lying flat on his face as he found his mental state institutionalised elsewhere.

_________________________________________________________________

Light sleep

War. A memory that continues to filter your memories with nothing but a sense of void and emptiness. Like an overcast of heavy clouds oppressed with a plethora of shades of grey.

Or a filter lens over your eyes that stopped you from feeling the natural brightness or warmth of natural sunlight. Try as you might to take in the life of another day, somehow the soul couldn’t reach or appreciate it after such hard times. It was too tightly shackled and bound to memories of the past.

Win or lose, there was never any coming back from the scars that etched your soul and following you like a depressing plume of smoke. Not after the journey he had been through.

Xell felt like he had been to hell and back. Quite literally. Somehow, memories of trials he had been through were there.
Memories of people he had left behind. Wide eyed, helpless victims imploring for help before they fell to flames.
But only very small remnants of these memories would be recalled in the waking life. He had tried many times to consciously remember what they were. Never getting any closer to any answers no matter how hard he tried to delve into his own subconscious mind in deep thought. Like grasping at straws.

Instead, his own nightmares would come and haunt him of his distorted past. With sparing snippets of what he suspected may have been true events. However, they never lent any purpose other than to serve as a taunt or a reminder that there was still a weight on his shoulders.
Perhaps even unfinished business.

There was one part of his past he could clearly remember. A war, a battle, a bad decision, the death of many. Dear to him. Too fast and too cruel.
____________________________________________________________________________
NREM

The scene that materialised was an almost colourless and bleak scene which was suffocated with dense smog and mist.

Caterpillars of trench warfare, with scattered barbed wire and used artillery rummaged the wastelands of this warzone. What was most pronounced in the bleak battlefield were the hundreds of decapitated bodies, that were sprawled across the ground, practically drowning in dirt and their own blood.

Yet the mêlée persisted with continuous gunshots, grenade fires and the odd mine trap that would explode and blow its victim to pieces- a painful cry occurring nanoseconds before being drowned out by the explosion.

Amidst this crimson zest, besmeared with chronic ill stood a lone grey reptilian soldier behind a grenade launcher. Aiming to attack frontline enemy soldiers from a distant range. The lone soldier was Xell Rhinestone.

“Krrrrrrch- mayday mayday. Our battalion has been reduced severely. Krrrrrchhh. Status reports indicate of 1000 men, 800 have deceased, 80 lie in critical condition with a life expectancy of less than 24 hours. And 20 still stand. Back up is obsolete and medical teams are overwhelmed with casualties… will the remaining survivors retreat immediately… krrrch…”

The blood-stained and muddied radio resonated in a crackling fashion, earning but a slow and morbid look from Xell, before he turned back to look through the target area for any approaching enemies.

“Krrrrch… Sergeant Rhinestone… RHINESTONE… krrrrchhhh… did you withdraw your troops like we commanded you to do so…? Krrchhhhhhh…”
It was then that the raspy radio sounds began to grate on Xell’s sanity, drawing yet another morbid turn of his head and bleak, defeated expression. If one where to stare at the façade that overlay his feelings, one might find overwhelming depths of guilt between his eyes.

“Rhinestone… RHINESTONE…. Arrrrrrghhhhhh…. Krcccccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..”
Xell switched off the radio immediately, his wincing expression with heavily shut eyes holding back an almost overwhelming and deep pain. A break down…
______________________________________

REM

He wondered how their families were holding up after that bad decision. What would’ve happened if he had made a slightly different call. He wondered if they even knew they all died.
Because of him.

Back then, he wanted to run away from it. The idea that one irreversible mistake had cost him everything and bestowed death and ill onto hundreds, if not, thousands of others made it impossible for him to move on.

In the end, at some point, it seemed he didn’t have to run anymore.

As the nightmarish war scenes fled away like an industrial smog, Xell finally found himself in a coherent scene. A conversely still setting. Opening his eyes to a saturated greyscale scene around him, he could see himself standing. Standing on a platform which was out on a stage. Almost as if he was looking back at an audience. Except none of the seats were filled at this point.

An assembly of linear chairs were decked out from row to row on an inclined plane. Some more faded glory luxurious seats boasted from heights above framed by faintly tinted crimson curtains. Tatty and dusty.

Nothing but void air and filtered dust looming above the deadbeat, worn looking seats with patches of foam seeping through the perforated materials. A theatre that looked in dire need of maintenance which one could possibly even deduce as abandoned.

The only life that could be heard whatsoever was white noise resonating from an organic air vent several feet above his head.

“Great audience we have tonight.”

Xell’s ear twitched as he heard a voice next to him from a dark figure that was just roughly 5 metres from where he was sitting. A monotoned, wooden voice that was borderline irritating. Almost like one belonging to a therapist who was judging their subject incredulously.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Xell’s eyes meandered peripherally to the unknown entity before turning back to look at the empty audience.

“Where else would I be?” the voice replied curiously.

“Hmm,” Xell lightly shrugged his shoulders lightly. His crimson tinted eye once again swooping towards the figure standing in the same vicinity as him. A shadowy figure just obscure of the ghostly stage light.

“Am I supposed to talk to you?” the Draconi blinked morbidly, still staring out to the distance.
There was a moment of silence. The silhouette shadow of the organic fan could be seen turning against the dim lighting on the stage.

“It seems you don’t want to talk to me.” The tall figure replied “maybe you’ll be more in the mood next time.”
Silence draped the scene again. Xell shrugging his shoulders lightly as his apathetic eyes continued to take in the ominous surroundings.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The conscious world

The whole ground shook as the vibrations through the cliff platform defibrillated Xell’s body back to life. A thunderous bang cutting the atmosphere like a knife that sent screeching birds catapulting through the skies.

“What the…” adrenaline hitting his body hard which jolted him up to a stand. Except, being near a cliff top, he almost lost his balance.
“Wow…!” he cried out impatiently and flailed his arms, before managing to calm down and narrowly missed tumbling off the cliff. Sticks, stones and leaves skidding off the edge from his uneasy feet. The diving view making him feel somewhat dizzy.

It didn’t help that he had had another episode.

He rubbed his eyes, which by now had resumed to their former harmonious blue colour, and looked down upon the destination of what may have caused that quake.

A mushroom of smoke started to dissipate into the air. Grey and black all slicked up into a sickly emission.

He recognised where it was all coming from. An end of the Forest he was forewarned about visiting at all. A sinister, foreboding and almost extra-terrestrial part of the planet that not many had explored much for reasons unknown to him.

A place known as ‘The Fall’.

He glanced down at his hands and noticed he was shaking. A cold sweat starting to condense upon his forehead which dripped uncomfortably across his brows.

He knew what he needed to get to get through the night.

If it was a vehicle that had crash landed, maybe he could find a supply before it would blow up in flames.
There was only one way to find out. To trade in his life for it, at this point, he felt he had no choice as to what dangers may implicate his life. His surreal alter ego life was just becoming overbearing, to say the least.

After chanting the directions and a small action plan under his breath to reach the area in question, Xell turned on his hindlegs and started to make his way towards the plane crash.

---

---

I knew sky pirates were going to get the drop on me, that’s why I didn’t take a decent plane, but I didn’t think they would be that stupid!

Max took a light breath as he continued to descend into the forest, the green fabric of his parachute blending in with the sea of overgrown leaves and shrubs below. In addition to pirates, he had to have a green parachute. What were the odds that he was going to crash over a forest given his past experiences? Maybe it was a funny circumstance, but Max was already in a piss poor mood when he had to evacuate the courier plane. He told Jake that the damn thing needed machineguns, but his damn brother said it was something the budget didn’t allocate. His brother was an idiot. If he had machineguns he wouldn’t had needed to risk tooth and tail over this venture to Merecc—if he had machineguns the pirates would be dust in the wind. But instead of them being dust he was descending into a forest with a stupid green parachute. A grumble left his lips, at least he had a nice view. A nice of view of witnessing what it looked like to see his plane collide with a gigantic oak tree.

“Well ain’t that a bunch of cat’s piss.”

The loud thunder of the plane crashing into the forest was one he had heard before. Not because he was a bad pilot, but because he was exceptionally unlucky—or at least that’s what that damned cat told him every single time they got into a situation. Max was just glad he was flying solo this time; he wouldn’t have been able to tolerate her giving him the “I told you so” eyes. Not in his current mood. As the thought crossed him he reached into his jacket’s pocket, pulling out a sole cigarette from a half-used pack, placing it in his mouth he gave it a light before he took a smoke as he slowly descended into the forest.

Max’s landing was rough, but not the roughest landing he had handled—and considering the circumstances and terrain he was lucky to not have any broken bones. Having fallen through a few branches after he was forced to cut his parachute with a knife he kept on hand for parachute cutting and dumbass threatening, it was a pretty unpleasant experience. But luckily for him after he broke the first two branches he had fallen into a small pond in the middle of a forest clearing. His band hurt from the impact of the branches, but the worst thing about the whole thing was him being wetter than a sponge in sink water.

After kicking himself out of the pond and spitting out dirty pond water, Max looked at the sky to see a smoke trail as best as he could. Though what he saw when he got there was confusing even to him—a Lotori girl and some sort of smaller Novan had rushed up to the plane wreck. What the shit? Who lived out in The Fall like this?

“Oi! You fucks ain’t gonna be finding jack nor shit up in there! I jumped out, get it? Parachute? Everything’s fine!”

Max had a dumbfounded look on his face as his hand dangled over his belt. What the hell was this Lotori girl doing banging and pulling on metal? Did she think he was in there? Was she trying to save him? What a dumb thing to try to do. As if him, Max Stone, an ace pilot needed to be saved by a little girl. As if.

---

---

Xell continued to zig zag across the forest. His journey started from the top of the cloudy ridden cliff as he ventured downwards towards the darker, more shadowy parts of the woods. The nurturing part of the scenery was all but starting to fall to shadow and become more murky the more he trudged through the leaves, mud and dirt down all the winding pathways.

The mud was slick, tarry and cold. A bit more than what Xell was used to. The thought swiftly crossing his mind, had he really ventured this deep into the forest before? Even the sounds of nature were a bit more wild and distant. Instead of chirping birds, he could hear a deafening electrobuzz of a crickets. Wild, hissing and foreboding, as if violated by him passing through.

“Ouch!” Xell yelped as his arm brushed against barbed nettles. Despite a fleeting contact with the plant, he could already see the area of contact on his deltoid muscle start to inflame, redden and boil up.

“Damned forest. I’m never coming here on vacation!” he uttered as he slowed down to catch his breath, momentarily losing track of the smoke which he was hoping would lead him to whatever it was that caused that bang early.
He swatted the air around his face to rid himself of buzzing flies and mosquitoes.

“You need to watch yourself in these parts. Do you know intoxicating that plant is?”

Xell turned around with tense eyes. The scenery around him somewhat blurred and distorted.

”It’s enough to make you chase dragons.”

“I see what you did there.” Xell said coolly but composed. He hoped whatever supplies he could find at that site might help keep his sanity afloat. The sweat from running and the plant sting was dehydrating him.
Making him somewhat dizzy.

He spotted the smoke again. Laughing lightly and almost mockingly, he began making a light jog in the direction. Almost certain he was now close.

He trailed to a slower pace when he heard some voices overhead.

"If anyone's in there, I'm here to help!" he heard a female voice say. Followed by another statement. He was unable to tell if it was frustrated or helpless.

"Darn you, c'mon!"

Hiding behind a brush which had flush pine-green elephant ear leaves, he could make out a raccoon with a red shirt banging on a door. The door of a crashed plane. Smoke continued to pour out of the vessel. It really wasn't looking safe.

“So that’s what crash landed…” Xell uttered to himself. Almost disappointed that finding whatever supplies may be there would be more difficult then he anticipated. With other Novans in the way.
After all, who the hell would venture out so far in these parts of the woods?

He was even more surprised to find that there was now 2 amongst him! At least from where he was standing.
For what he saw next was a young otter boy. Worse for wear from what he could see, covered in blood and bandages and limping towards the plane.

‘Had he been a passenger?’ Xell speculated ‘Impossible. Or he’d be trapped in the plane, duh.’

But then what had caused those injuries? Nothing dangerous in this forest, was it?

Xell's thoughts finally snapped back to reality when he heard the most obscene voice cut through everything. Causing the Draconi to wrinkle his snout.

“Oi! You fucks ain’t gonna be finding jack nor shit up in there! I jumped out, get it? Parachute? Everything’s fine!”

The voice appeared to belong to a red hedgehog. His looks as gruff and as abrasive as his attitude. Judging from his aviator attire much akin to a pilot, Xell assumed that this may have been the pilot of the plane. Parachute landing or not, why was he so ungrateful to have people show concern towards his well being?

“What a circus,” Xell said drearily “may have to wait this one out until they clear off.”
He was hoping the plane wouldn’t explode by the time the party had had their chinwag.
If they became too oblivious, he may have to cut in and help.

---

---

Moments before the shout from behind, Taffy took a risk to glance in the window again, and this time she concentrated. Her bright blue eyes glowed with a soft yet unmistakable inner light that filled her pupils as she swept her gaze across the glass, peering through it to the inside of the small cockpit. If there had been no window, then what she was doing now would have been completely useless through the metal of the plane's sides, but this ability of hers did work through glass, even dirty glass. No one inside, for sure, she thought to herself. That's a relie-

Then she was shouted at, and the shock of it caused her black-and-gray striped tail to puff out as she straightened up and whirled around to face the speaker. Her focus disappeared instantly after the loud and objectionable voice had disrupted her concentration, but the illumination in her eyes remained there for a few seconds, like pinpoints of bright starlight disappearing behind the horizon, or the afterimages left on the eye after an incautious glance at the sun.

Even after the light had faded from her eyes, the glare she leveled at the dripping red-quilled Spicati in pilot's fatigues still blazed with fire. She saw the otter boy out of the corner of her vision, running toward her, but for the moment, her sight was lined up with the hedgehog who regarded her with what she thought was a mixture of disbelief and exasperation...like he thought it had been the most obvious thing in the world that there was no one else in the plane. Whatever else she possibly could have thought of in that first impression was burned out by her anger.

"So that's how you treat someone who's risking their life to help you?" she snarled as she hopped off the plane. The boy at the edge of her vision faltered as he apparently sensed the shift in the situation. She stomped forward, her shoulders tense as she "This is still dangerous! It's dry as a bone this time of year!" She ignored the hedgehog shake his dripping hands, demonstrating his cynicism about this remark. "If we don't put out that fire, the whole forest could light up!"

There was a terrific snapping sound as the great oak tree, that the plane had crashed into, tilted...then fell over, directly on top of the plane. The impact shook the ground, and as the leaf-filled branches collapsed, they snuffed out the flames in a single smothering collision. Soon, even the smoke was dissipating as its source was no longer there. What was left of the plane tilted up on either side of the oak tree's trunk, as if giving it wings of its own.

Taffy slowly glanced over her shoulder at the sight, then looked back to see an incorrigible grin on the hedgehog's face, which she met with a dour frown. Thanks, forest, she grumbled mentally, then she huffed. "Are you hurt?" she asked the hedgehog with a calmness that belied her frustration at being embarrassed by this circumstance.

Just as the hedgehog opened his mouth, Taffy turned away from him while saying, "'Oh, just a few bumps and bruises, but I'm sure I'll live,'" she said in a vicious mocking imitation of his voice as she turned toward the otter boy and regarded him...then she gave a start as she saw the bandages and blood, her gruffness softening in an instant. She immediately went to him and pulled out the first aid kit from her backpack, ignoring the hedgehog and turning almost motherly toward the otter boy. "You're hurt! And those bandages are so messy. Let's get you cleaned up and those bandages redone, okay?"

She shot a brief glare at the hedgehog. "Is this the best you could do?" she snapped. "It's amazing he hasn't gotten infected yet!"

---

---

Max pushed his tongue against his upper leftmost canine, mouth slightly open as he saw the Lotori girl turn around right and mock him as she asked him a question. The red-furred Spicati wasn’t exactly known for his manners, but even to him, that sort of action was rather impolite. It reminded him of when a particular feline would do similar things to patronize his sense of direction or luck or skill. Fortunately, right as he was about to give her a piece of his mind in his uncandid way, she glared back at him as she tried to help out the boy that had come running out of the woods. Max wrinkled his nose; the boy smelled like a mixture of dogshit and urine and looked like he was worse off than his plane. Why was this little girl blaming her for the way this child was, anyway? He wasn’t his responsibility!

Still damp wet, he approached the two to get a better look. He was no medic, but the shit-smelling stranger was still a child at the end of it.

“You can act like you're not a right out cunt, yeh? Not my fault this fuckin’ let smells and looks like he came out a skank's asshole.” He crossed his arms, looking over the kid. “Fuck you lot doin’ out in this mess, anyhow? Fuckin’ Fall is for ferals and fuckheads, not little girls and lets.”

---

---

The youth had darted forward, jamming the bar into the planes now jammed door and wrenching on it as if trying to get into to plane rather than get anyone out. The rust on the bar started to cut through the wrapping on his hands but he kept going, remember how valuable any parts for machinery had become at the height of an occupation that had held his home. Even though it felt like a lifetime ago he knew the same would apply to, wherever this was.

The shout made him pause, glancing at the other person to see if it came from them. The woman’s eyes were glowing like two sapphires. Yonath’s eyes softened for a moment.

He knew that light.

That light had swept away the plague that destroyed everything.

The boy stopped his assault and stepped aside, looking at the woman curiously. He had found so many bodies but it never occurred to him that… But they’d seen so many worlds where similar phenomena happened, it was likely just a coincidence.

‘I didn’t mean to say that.’

His own failed apology hung in his brain mockingly. Maybe, if there was even a tiny chance.

He tensed up, wincing as the tree slammed down, trying his best to shield his face from flying debris and branches. The boy’s senses returned and with it rolled eyes and a grumble looking at the carnage of what was to be spare parts.

He’d dug out worse wrecks before and came away with more than a few amount of fixable pieces to trade and use. Logistics formed in his head, something resembling a shovel had to have survived the survived the wreck, he must have just missed it in his delirium. Another trip down would yield more useful items, shovels and struts maybe even more medical supplies and weapons.

"You're hurt! And those bandages are so messy. Let's get you cleaned up and those bandages redone, okay?"

The woman was far too close for him, almost in his face. He started shrinking away, but yet was searching her eyes. Trying to find something, but it was completely gone now. He started to worm away from her but suddenly stopped after hearing Max.

“Fuck you lot doin’ out in this mess, anyhow? Fuckin’ Fall is for ferals and fuckheads, not little girls and lets.”

He relented and let her work to undo the sloppily done and now stretched out elastic bandage, the antibiotic ointment from the prior day would be worn off anyway. There was no real reason not to let her waste her supplies when his own were already half gone. His callous expression returned, turning his head to Max and answering the question in a mutter with three words.

“Jou moeder, moffie.”

He looked back, eyes widening, the light seemed to be returning, though it seemed more white this time. The woman’s eyes seemed to glow again, brighter and brighter, maybe hearing him woke it up. Maybe he just needed to…

As Taffy was finally able to work, pulling the old bandages off, the boy suddenly collapsed backward. Falling to the ground unconscious.

---

---

Taffy rolled her eyes as the Spicati continued to speak, but she didn't let his words bother her. He had surprised her at first, and she had been stressed by the possibility of an exploding fuel tank in the plane, so she had reacted with a hostility that she regretted - only a little bit, but she did regret it. Now that she was listening to him, she could tell from his tone that he didn't really mean any offense by the slew of foul language that left his mouth. Taffy had been around patients in a lot of pain who said things they didn't mean, and she had also had patients from lower class areas that really didn't know better than the crude slang they were around all the time in the slums. Now that she could chalk this hedgehog up as part of this latter category, she took what he said in stride and was able to downgrade her emotional status towards him from 'hostile' to 'belligerent.'

That didn't help her from taking a little spiteful glee as the young otter boy muttered what sounded like "Your mother, moffie." She was a little shocked to hear that, but she couldn't bring herself to scold the boy when she still felt rather sullen about the pilot herself.

When she had approached the boy and reached out, he had almost squirmed away from her, as if unwilling to be touched. It had been Max, ironically, that seemed to change the boy's mind, and he let Taffy remove the blood-crusted old bandages. It was clear now that this otter boy didn't seem associated with Max, so that made Taffy wonder how he had gotten here by himself this far into the forest. For that matter, though he looked searchingly in her eyes, she could tell there was something off about him. It was just a niggling at the back of her mind, but it was like he didn't quite look like one of the riverfolk...in fact, his face had an almost-

The last of the old bandages fell away just as the boy collapsed to the ground with a soft thud. Taffy was immediately on her knees at his side, and she checked his pulse first at his wrist, then his neck. Her mind was now going through the motions of treatment, and had abandoned whatever train of thought she had before, her anger being placed next to the other tools at her mental disposal. "He's alive, just unconscious," she said neutrally, though she let out a small sigh of relief all the same. "Give me a moment to get him patched up, then we need to move him to shelter somewhere."

She set her pack down next to her and drew out what she needed - a damp cloth to wipe away dried blood, antiseptic ointment to prevent infection, and bandages expertly woven into place over the injuries she could see. As her hands worked with automatic motions long trained for the situation, she fell into a familiar pattern that let her mind focus back onto her power. I need to make sure I'm not missing anything, she thought to herself as she went through the mental exercises she had been trained in since she had been very young.

The light glimmered once again from her bright blue eyes as they roved up and down the boy's body. She saw past fur and skin to the trails of lifeblood that flowed in the boy's veins. It wasn't that she literally saw his blood vessels - she had seen enough open wounds and cut-open specimens to know what those looked like - but instead it felt more like an abstraction of the boy's overall health as measured by the lines representing his blood flow.

This was the Tan'Ur family line's Codus - Vitalsight.

Okay, that should do it, Taffy thought. She let go of the mental threads of control, and the light faded from her eyes once more just as she finished the last bandage. A mild headache began to bug her as she pulled out a small needle-less injector, carefully measured a silvery-gray liquid into it, then pressed it against the boy's chest. The device gave a fast hiss as it worked, and Taffy placed the injector back into her pack along with everything else. The headache remained, but she knew it would go away as long as she kept herself from using her Codus for a while.

"My name is Taffy Tanner," she said as she turned her face up to Max, who stood nearby. "I'm out here on a hike. I'm a medical student at Colosse." Then she returned some of the edge to her voice as she said pointedly, "Don't think I'm getting all buddy-buddy with you, now - I'm just introducing myself to make it easier to work together, and so you can call me by my proper name instead of 'girl.'" She closed up her pack and replaced it on her shoulders, then moved to place her black-"gloved" hands below the otter boy's shoulders. "Now, if you can grab his ankles, we can move him to some better shelter until he wakes up."

---

---

The Draconi patiently watched the next set of events unfold on the ground floor from where he was standing. Still hiding behind leaves and shrub. His camouflage singlet merging him well into the mosaic green setting.

It started off with the Lutran-like being trying to pry open the door of the plane with a rusty bar. The youth relinquished that action when he was approached by the Lotori.

Xell gritted his teeth as he watched a tree capsize onto the plane. It appeared to come out of nowhere as it ungracefully threw its weight on the crashed vehicle, causing the ground to shake. Simultaneously, it managed to fan out the flames.

His heart skipped a beat and had a momentary jagged rhythm.

He clutched his forehead for a minute, having to take a deep breath in and out. Granted, there was a quake earlier that woke him up but being so close to a monumental tree structure that fell down so suddenly without him noticing felt like a bomb explosion which brought back some anxiety from the wars.

‘Cool it, get it together.’ He swept his hand through his blue hair to slick it back. More to remind himself that his present situation was not as threatening as his mind was making it out to be.

Xell was shaken awake even more so from the caustic display of words that dribbled out of the red Novan’s mouth. The one he had deduced as being the pilot of the crashed vehicle. This appeared to occur after the femme Lotori had something tongue in cheek to him.

The youth, too, had something less than flattering to say to the red quilled creature. Something along the lines of ‘your mother’, Moffie.

“Clearly these guys are birds of a feather,” Xell uttered sarcastically, watching the Lotori remove all the bloodstained bandages off of the young boy. What followed next was youth frozen in a momentary daze, before suffering from a syncope episode. He winced as the body hit the floor.

“Wait! Did he beat up a kid?” The thought dawned upon Xell. The conclusion derived from the youth looking worse for wear, limping towards the plane and having heard the Spicati accusing him of being quite dirty moments after appearing on the scene.

Then again, there were a couple of flaws with that theory.
One being that if that pilot chap really was a child beater, surely the Lotori attending to his aid would be more cautious of him. Also, the way the red Novan was yelling at them, demanding why girls and kids would be out in the woods did also suggest they were strangers.

“I can’t waste any more time. I’ll take what I need and leave.” He convinced himself.
He blinked over his dry eyes to refocus his sights and concentration on the task at hand. At the very least, it appeared that the fire had been put out. Not only did it mean that he would be reasonably safe venturing to the vehicle below, but the newcomers would also be safe.
With that, Xell looked towards the fallen oak tree and swiftly darted in that direction. Endeavouring not to step on old crusty leaves that had gathered to the ground throughout this Autumn season. Wherever there was a hard surface, be it rock, fallen trees or traces of an earthed path, he made sure to step on those surfaces whilst making his way.

Leaping deftly from a small rocky ledge to use his wings to glide across, his feet hit the fallen oak tree with a thud.
The nettle sting on Xell’s arm continued to leave a burning and boiling sensation in his scales which was proving to be more annoying than he anticipated. He tried to ignore the feeling as he closed the gap from the fallen trunk of the tree towards the branches.
Once he arrived towards the door of the plane that the youth had tried to open earlier, Xell looked over his shoulder to make sure he was still unseen.

It seemed the cast in front of the plane were still preoccupied in conversation and trying to tend to the unconscious young Novan.
Turning back to the door, Xell retrieved his dagger and inserted it between the space where the door normally would’ve been sealed shut. Collateral damage from the crash and earlier force from the metal bar appeared to have weakened it.
It only took a couple of anti-clockwise turns to tease it open. He could hear a hinge from the locking mechanism release.
Shoving the dagger back into his belt, he gently opened the door, whilst still keeping an eye on the group ahead. When he was convinced he’d still gone unnoticed, he stealthily snuck into the plane.

Inside the plane

Xell walked inside the plane, ducking away from windows in case one of the Novans outside decided to turn and look at the plane. He found himself practically crawling on the floor to find what may be available.

He had to admit, if the pilot really did own this plane, he was impressed. It was neat, well constructed and smartly configured with its seats, arm rests, window peripheries and so on. The only niggle tarnishing this neat suite before the crash being some empty beer cans on the floor and the smell of nicotine.

“Great, a trail of cancer sticks,” Xell tutted. Even though he could understand back in his regime many of his troops would smoke. It was a habit that was hard to kick yes, and frowned upon. But if it got people through the war or whatever battle they had on their hands, then it likely served more than clean living.

Xell poked his head towards a curious small cubby hole. The sort of location one would expect anything important to be stashed.
To his frustration, that was locked too.

Reaching for his dagger once again, he used it to meddle with the intramechanics of the locking system.
He smiled wryly when he heard a click and saw the cabinet fold open uneventfully. He gritted his teeth as pocket sized bottle of alcohol rolled out. He caught it deftly and shoved it into his pocket.
He breathed a sigh of relief that the glass object had not rolled out onto the floor, or that could’ve been noisy.

He saw a first aid kit and smiled when he reached out for it. A green labelled small box with a white cross symbol on it. Neatly compact and zipped up. Opening it up, he found small samples of what he wanted.

The healing drug Halocaine. He knew how much trouble he could get into if people knew his history on Mir. His constant undertakings to find this drug and what he had to resort to get his hands on it. The exchanges he has with his dealer.

However, as long as he wasn’t harming anyone, he didn’t see a need to be concerned.

“Good job, you’re getting really good at this.” he heard that voice congratulate him.
Impolitely.

“It must be all worth it to be stealing drugs for your fix when someone else could be benefitting from it right now.”

“Is this my nature or nurture voice now?” Xell hissed. Eyes glaring all around as he clasped the medikit close to his chest. The interior of the plane was coming across as hazey and blurry with purple traces of hues.

“If you’re talking about the kid outside, he seems to be in good hands!” Xell justified.

Xell quickly pulled out a jump rope that he found lying around. Tightening it around his upper forearm, he flicked the brachial artery in the joint of his forearm to elevate the blood vessel. Ripping the medikit open, he pulled out a syringe, drew up the Halocaine fluid and injected it intravascularly.

The symptomatic relief of the drug started to kick in.

All seemed restored as the purple hues dissipated, the forms of the interior of the plane and the objects sharpened and the nettle sting subsided.

He sighed wearily, a troubled look on his face. He put everything back neatly into the box and threw away the makeshift tourniquet.
He knew it was unwise to have injected an uncontrolled dose and at a concentrated form but it was worth it to rid himself of the fever, the nettle sting- but more importantly, the voices he was hearing.

Outside the plane

He stepped outside and overheard the Lotori girl still talking to the Spicati.

"My name is Taffy Tanner.I'm out here on a hike. I'm a medical student at Colosse. "

"Crap! She's a medical student!" Xell gritted his teeth as he clasped the medikit.
Then again, she didn't have to know where he got it from, should she note it. It was too big to
fit into his pocket so he just carried it in his hand unremarkably.

"Don't think I'm getting all buddy-buddy with you, now - I'm just introducing myself to make it easier to work together, and so you can call me by my proper name instead of 'girl.”

"Now, if you can grab his ankles, we can move him to some better shelter until he wakes up."

By the time ‘Taffy’ had said all of that, Xell came close to the clearing of where they all were. Whether they’d react for better or for worse, at least he felt a bit more stable now.

“Hey…” Xell waved over to the group, approaching from the other side of the plane to make it seem as if he hadn’t looted it “I overheard this plane crash and thought I’d come over and investigate. If you’re looking for shelter, I can help get you out of this part of the Forest. But we’re going to have our time cut out for us.” He said, gesturing towards the sun that was starting to set. Faded hues of orange, yellow and purple could be seen filtering through the mass of vines draping the forest trees.

He looked over to the unconscious youth, and then to Max
Warily.

“Heard a lot of shouting back there… you didn’t get a bit ratty with the kid now, did you?” Xell frowned.

The Draconi secretly cursed himself, he could feel one of the side effects of the drug which was now making him a bit paranoid.

---

---

For someone so smart, Max couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of someone from Colosse who decided to go out of their way into The Fall. But he didn’t want to cause more issue when she knew some of the trails in the stretch of forest they found themselves in. Though he did take note that Colosse wasn’t even the closest city to the outskirts of the ancient forest. As a pilot, he knew which ports were where and how close they would be to his relative location. The closest stretch was Merecc.

“Names Max. Max Stone. As you might infer I’m a pilot. Fuckin’ pirates pushed me over this dead zon—”

Max caught himself as he heard more shuffling, turning around to meet the appearance of another stranger. How many people were out in The Fall that were ready to rush over to his plane for one reason or another? The newcomer announced themselves as knowing a way out of the forest, a Draconi who looked to Max to be some sort of scavenger or wanderer. However, what the Spicati did notice was the medkit that the reptilian Novan held in their hands. The presence of a medkit wouldn’t had normally been strange considering the crash, but in combination with some key peculiarities a lightbulb went off in the pilot’s head. He raised a brow at the Novan before he turned back to Taffy for a second as he returned his view at the Draconi. Brows narrowed, and gun drawn at the Draconi’s head. Over the years he had refined his quickdraw and picked up on things.

The funniest part, was if he didn’t know the medkit was his due to a certain someone he might’ve had no idea or suspicions in the first place.

“Oi, mate. It’s kind of rude to steal from someone, you got no manners? Drop the medkit before I drop you, yeh?”

---

---

Xell grimaced as he saw the barrel being drawn up towards his forehead.

Of course this was going to happen! The Draconi didn’t even try hiding the medikit he was holding right now. As to why he didn’t hide it could account for numerous reasons. One being, he was acting somewhat careless from his current drug induced state. Another reason could be, where on earth would he hide it and hope to retrieve it again?

Nonetheless, this reaction was unwelcome and hostile. He almost wondered why he ventured out in the first place.

The grey Draconi momentarily turned to look at Taffy incredulously. As if to ask if he was ‘normally like this?!’

He turned back to look at the inflammatory Spicati. Still holding the medikit

Xell remembered above all that it was best to remain calm no matter the circumstances. Since panic would kindle undesirable circumstances. However, with his current anxiety potentiated from the drugs, this was all happening at a bad time.

His assailant had leveraged control of his physical movement by virtue of having a firearm.

How was it he noticed that that was his medikit? Did he see him sneak into his plane?

Xell didn’t have many bargaining hands to play at the moment so he had to choose his words wisely.

“I think you need to calm down… Max,” the Draconi said softly but with unnerving undertones. Knowing his name on account of him introducing himself to ‘Taffy’ earlier.

“Is this really all about the medikit or are you smarting for being a shmuck pilot?” Xell asked “you want to shoot me for taking supplies you were going to abandon anyway? At least use this to fix up the kid before you make your next move!” he gave a single nod towards Max's gun as if he was a coward. Suggesting they settle this through armed combat to make things fairer should it come to that.

Xell looked on cautiously and predicted one of 3 things may happen next given what he just said.

---

---

The Draconi’s remark about his piloting skills might’ve been a foolish thing to say, but Max had been goaded several times before and he wasn’t going to shoot him for being what he would call a ‘moron’; though the temptation to do so was obviously there given the temperament that the red-furred Novan tended to gravitate towards. Jake and Yara often criticized him for being too bold and impulsive and this was certainly a scenario that could have been defined as being a byproduct of those traits.

Max lowered the gun, with a smirk on his face. His tone less irate, yet a bit mocking; as if he did not believe his intentions were benevolent. “If you want to help the ‘let with my stolen medkit, bring it on over. I ain’t going to stop you.”

---

---

The young nekomi brushed patchy hair back from her face as she looked after the odd draconi. She'd been on her way toward the forest of the Wrecks when she'd seen him, sprawled facedown at the edge of a cliff. She'd been concerned, but by the time she had her motorcycle at the side of the road there were a pair of crippled aircraft trailing smoke up ahead, with the nearer one spitting out a tiny dot that blossomed into a dull blue parachute on the way down. She thought she could even feel the ground tremble as they crashed. Man, this was already shaping up to be an exciting trip.

She'd been into the forest before, of course, but this time she planned to go much deeper than she'd ever ventured in the past. She'd held off so that she and Justin would be able to go together, as they'd planned as mere children. His last visit home had changed all that. It was just as well, she supposed. She'd been getting restless, and the idea of waiting until he graduated had grown increasingly frustrating. It was nice to be /going/.

And it looked like she might just have found an alternative companion. She didn't follow immediately as he turned to head down the slope, instead going back to her motorcycle and moved it farther off the road, going a bit into the brush. From one of the saddlebags she pulled a mottled tarp, and carefully covered her bike to protect it from weather and random passers-by. In theory, it wouldn't work without the key. In practice...nothing was truly proof against a determined trickster.

With her satchel slung across her back and her jacket tied at her waist, Nikki set off after the draconi. For now she trailed him at a distance, relying on the noise he made as he went to keep track of him, when the sight of his bright hair eluded her. Even in sturdy boots she moved quietly out of habit, doing her best to minimize sign of her passing despite it being far easier in more civilized settings. She considered jumping the guy just for fun, or maybe going ahead and setting up a tripline, but the poor man didn't seem quite right in the head and for all that she loved pranking, she wasn't cruel. Curiosity kept her quiet, even when she heard the sound of others up ahead near the crash site. A young coon, a spicati that was apparently the pilot and sounded like he might know some interesting words if he could just get away from the default "fuck"s, some funny kid who was all beat up...this could be a right adventure, sure enough.

She wondered what the wrecked plane had been carrying. Skypirates weren't exactly uncommon, not that she'd ever had the chance to meet any. This looked like a standard runner plane, from the emblem on the wings, the sort that did all sorts of deliveries from the most mundane to the ones that required an armed escort. Nikki wondered idly if there might be a reward for salvage. Sure, the pilot was right there, but he was otherwise occupied, and she'd never been the sort to pass up the chance at a bit of easy money. Of course she'd need to wait until the fire was finished....

She was jarred out of her speculation as to what sort of cargo might get a pirate so interested as to brave the no-fly zone above the Fall when a massive tree smashed down on the vessel. Well.

It seemed the guy she'd followed in had a similar mindset, ignoring those talking and heading for the battered plane. He moved quietly now, and Nikki watched with interest. A frequent thief? Some sort of spy or stealth operative -- there was something in how he moved that said "soldier" (or at least trained combatant), not that it was an uncommon profession. He levered the door open with a knife -- a knife! Too much of that and it'd be about as sharp as regular old tableware -- and slipped inside. She lingered outside a few moments more before curiosity demanded she follow.

Shifting into her feline form so that she'd fit better into small spaces, Nikki ghosted through the darkened opening and padded after her oblivious guide. His lockpicking skills needed work. Knives were not the right tool, despite his success. His choice of loot was unusual -- a stiff drink and a medkit. The way he hugged it, either he was in dire need or he was a junkie. Or crazy, that was still on the table, and as he spoke to himself yet again she thought it increasingly likely. When he tied his arm and reached for the needle, she revised her opinion. Crazy and a junkie. Well, good for him. She knew better than to cross druggies. Even her wild ways didn't extend to blatant idiocy in most cases, just a general lack of foresight. Everyone and their uncle knew about the fighting over the rights to produce medical serum, and other drugs were just a small step away. You didn't mess with the serum bootleggers and their mafia friends, and you didn't mess with the junkies that traded with them either. Her lips pulled away from her teeth in a silent grimace and she slunk back to the door and outside again. Her interest in the plane's cargo had waned for the moment, replaced by the sour aftertaste left by the thought of the fighting and the general idiocy of Novans as a whole.

The kid was unconscious now, and the coon girl seeing to his injuries. The draconi approached them shortly after, and promptly got a gun pointed at him for his trouble.

Not that he isn't a thief, Nikki mused, but it's not like you'd be able to tell without taking inventory. She'd moved up into the toppled tree's branches, liking the extra height as well as the bit of concealment it offered. As the pilot -- Max, if she'd heard right -- lowered his weapon, she moved enough to draw attention to herself, not bothering to hold back a chuckle. "If he was trying to steal your kit, he went about it all wrong," she commented, one arm wrapped idly around a branch so that she could lean forward without falling. Bright amber eyes glittered down at those below, picking up the goldenrod floral design on her pants and the matching trim on her leather jacket. "Yo, by the way." She grinned, a wide, face-splitting expression that made her look more like a teenager than her twenty-and-change years. "Saw you going down from all the way up by the Merecc road. Looks like the Wrecks did you in proper. Two more down to add to who knows how many. Shame, looked like a nice little plane you had. Y'know, before the ground gave it a makeover." She wasn't as fond of planes as she was of cars, but anything with a good engine held an appeal. "Name's Nikki, Nikki Wyatt. I know a towing company in Woodsedge, though I don't know if they'd be willing to come in here. Might be worth a try, though. I can give you their number, and change for a call when you reach a phone."

---

---

The fuck? How many god damn wayfaring fucks are in this fucking forest?

The shuffling of some branches, another voice. Max fought every instinct in his body not to turn toward the direction of the newcomer and take aim with his pistol. But despite the clearing becoming a little too “crowded” by people whose first instinct was to investigate the crash; it smelled convenient to him, but given the Draconi’s posture, look, and actions he was not privy to be trusting to turning his back to him even if someone came at him from his flank. There was something about the scaled Novan that rubbed Max the wrong way—and it wasn’t just because he was a toothless scavenger. Truthfully, he didn’t care all that much that he had stolen from him, it had more to do with the principle of the matter.

Still, he acknowledged the girl who introduced herself as Nikki Wyatt with a nod. His eyes were still on Xell, gun at the ready if he tried anything funny; he may have lowered his combat posture, but he didn’t holster it entirely for that very reason. Nikki’s comments didn’t particularly ease his distrust at the moment given that he had already come to the same deduction that he was “going about it all wrong”. Still, Max was relatively impressed he had snuck into his plane and pilfered it in such a short time. Had the Lotori girl not been screeching at him he probably would’ve noticed.

“Yeah, the fuck is a bad thief. Already put that one together.”

---

---

The Draconi turned to look on towards platform of the tumbled tree where a self-assured femme voice spoke out.

A low toned frown formed upon his face with dim blue eyes. He still maintained the medikit within his hands. Keeping Max within the periphery of his vision, in case he became trigger happy.

The Nekomi was wearing a leather jacket with a satchel bag. She had a layered short haircut, ears and amber eyes. Her tone and demeanour was almost a bit too jovial considering he was being held at gunpoint!

She continued to speak, saying that she had witnessed the crash and suggested Max had been chased down by adversaries of some sort. Which made Xell believe that maybe he hadn’t crashed his plane due to being cack-handed. Still, the comment had him quiet for a moment and it was funny to watch.

He pursed his lips at the Nekomi’s backhanded comment about his thieving skills. Not so much with too much disapproval but more to do with wondering how she, too, may have known what he had been up to.

“Really?” he called out to her “You’re going to side with him on this one? It’s not like he noticed you sneak up behind him!”

Xell turned back to glare at Max, who still, was not letting up. The fact that he hadn’t pivoted much to note or turn to divide his attention to the newcomer made the distrust all the more tangible.

Still, it was worth considering that he had lowered his aggressive stance somewhat since offering to return the goods.

’Jerk’ Xell gritted his teeth, as he started to make his way slowly towards the group with the kit in his hands. ’All because I felt sorry for the poor urchin on the floor.
He still wasn't sure if the youth had been assaulted by Max. He hadn't heard much from the Coon who was tending towards him so was taking the benefit of the doubt for now.

One of the 3 things Xell predicted did happen indeed, and that was the most conservative response. Although it’s not an option many in his position would want to give into for a smug, gun wielding, self-righteous entrepreneur, in Xell’s head it was a tactical outcome. After all, why fight when your opponent was clearly in a more overpowered position at a given time?

He stopped before Taffy, the unconscious Yonath, and Max. He briefly turned to look at Nikki who remained on a higher platform among the branches of the fallen oak tree. Looking on like a curious cat.

Xell tilted his head to one side and gave Max a phoney smile.

“Here you go,” he passed the medikit towards Max.
Letting it go and fall to the floor.

“Too bad you have your hands full.”

“Since you seem to be catered for fixer-uppers and so on,” Xell nodded towards Nikki, before looking back at Taffy and Max “Guess this means I’ll be going then?”

---

---

Taffy thought that things might actually be shaping up for a change...until Max's introduction was interrupted by the arrival of not just one, but two other people. She had been so focused on helping the otter boy, and had been providing enough inadvertent distraction, that she hadn't even guessed that someone else was around until it was far too late. If it hadn't been for Max's quick reflexes, it's possibly the Draconi in the military fatigues might have crept up on her unaware. And, while he seemed like he wasn't so bad - even with a gun being pointed at him - Taffy gave him a good look and thought she noticed something off about the way he was behaving. Almost like he should have been better-mannered than he was, or maybe it was just a slight twitch here and there.

The Lotori couldn't focus on what she thought she saw, though, because she was starting to get more and more frustrated as the back-and-forth proceeded. Great, they're trying to one-up each other, she thought as she kept quiet, though her patience was starting to run out as she felt the cork on her feelings give way. This kid is wrapped up and ready to move somewhere, and we have to hold up for a size comparison contest? Really? Now? We don't even know this guy's name!

And then the nekomi woman had arrived - out of the branches, no less. Taffy's small frown of general disapproval of the world turned into a slightly longer frown as she heard the cheerful and friendly girl introduce herself. Oh terrific, she sounds just like some of the girls back at the dorm, she thought crossly. Well, if you mixed them up with a used cart salesman, anyway. Despite herself, she found herself admiring the cool feline grace of this Nikki. She moved with a fluidity that belied her youthful appearance. And having that odd mix of Miran and Novan feline traits made Taffy feel reminded of things that had attracted her to her boyfriend before-

And that little reminder soured her expression and temper to the breaking point just as the Draconi offered another puerile challenge. "Okay, that's it!" Taffy exploded as she got to her feet and stomped over to the medkit that had been tossed to the ground. She swiped it up with one hand, then gestured at the Draconi with it threateningly. "You're not going anywhere, pal, until you help me move this kid someplace safe. My uncle lives only a few miles from here, near the edge of the forest, and from there, you can make your merry way anywhere else you like. But I can't get this kid there by myself, and it's starting to get dark already, so if you want to make up for causing trouble, then make yourself useful and help!"

Max swore and started to tell Taffy to get out of the way, but Taffy interrupted him as she turned her baleful glare of hot ice from the dragon to the hedgehog. "And you! I'm keeping this kit until we get this kid to safety - you can have it back soon as we're done, but until then, you're helping as well! Neither of you will get a chance to attack each other if you're both busy carrying this kid, so you can stop playing the macho game until we get to my uncle's place."

"And as for you," Taffy said as she looked over at Nikki, "we won't be able to call anyone until we get out of the forest, so..." Taffy faltered a little here; then shrugged as she made a decision. "You might as well come with us. Safety in numbers, and it's gonna be dark soon...and then we won't be the only things out here to worry about."

Taffy went over to the boy and dropped to one knee by his side, giving him another glance before looking pointedly over her shoulder at the Draconi and Max. "You get it? It's not just a matter of convenience - if we don't get to shelter soon ourselves, we could be in trouble out here, with monsters...or worse. So it's either stay together, or separate...and be chow."

Well, that was my best shot. thought Taffy. If I have to, I can carry this boy myself, but...I really don't want to wander through the forest on my own at night.

But she kept up her stern, take-charge front, and scowled meaningfully in the general direction of everyone else.

---

---

He woke up, blackness surrounding him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to gain sight of anything. He must have passed out again. Was it this dark at night? Had they just left him laying there?



The voice was booming and commanding, familiar. Light flared forth behind him, he spun around and quickly threw his arms in front of him as a blast of heat sucked the air from his lungs. After a moment recovering he parted his arms enough to see a massive vulpine shape standing some distance away, orange flame-like energy surging over it’s form and an array of fiery tendrils whipped around behind it.

He knew what this was, he’d seen the creature before. He knew what this must be… finally. A tinge of a smirk started to appear on his face as it spoke again.



The starlight emerald orbs of light that seemed to be it’s eyes were not directed at him. Almost as if he wasn’t worth looking at, though it was hard to tell given the sheer heat and blinding radiance the creature was giving off. The words were Kydane, but ancient, so old and accented he couldn’t really understand them.

In a moment the heat and light vanished, leaving his unadjusted eyes blind from the previous brilliant flames. ‘It… left?‘

He felt himself sink to the ground. He had already started envisioning waking up more than he was, shutting that man's mouth up and being able to do the things he’d seen Underwood do. He was the last one now, why would it just...



He sat in silence as minutes passed, anger and grief washing over him and leaving only hopelessness in their wake. People used to wonder if a one of those Ghosts could leave it’s host willingly, maybe this was the answer. Even at whatever end of the universe hell-hole he’d ended up, with everyone dead and except him… He still wasn’t good enough for any of this Warden shit.

Through his self loathing there was a quiet noise in the black. It sounded almost as injured and depressed as he was. Though far more… animalistic. Barely audible high pitched canine-like whines and barely suppressed snorts.

His eyes had adjusted enough to walk, he stood, carefully and slowly walking on ground he couldn’t see towards the source of the noise. The source of the noise was visible now, after the blinding flames of the creature from before it's dim silvery light hadn't even registered to him.

He approached some small creature laying on the ground. It was vaguely fennec shaped, a tail almost half the size of the creature lay impotently behind it. It seemed to have a weak energy that made it’s ‘fur’ shimmer like silvery white candle light.

He knelt down, looking at a streak of crimson on it’s head, one leg obviously injured. It looked like something had attacked it. The otter’s eyes widened a bit in realization, reaching up and touching his own head in a similar spot. The creature glanced up with dim viridian eyes.

“Hecula naya?”

The voice was almost like a child’s, small and timid.. It was the form of Kydane he was used to, slurred accents and more fluid speech with the odd hint of a drawl. The voice sounded young, and was asking simply, ‘Who are you?’.

He heard himself speak, suddenly his brain screamed at him as his real name slipped out, “Johan Le Roux.”



The voice boomed again behind him, the blinding flame ignited again, allowing only moments for him to scoop the wounded creature up to protect it from the blast of heat of light that surged around them. This time he didn’t spin around, instead letting the light surge around him and his eyes to adjust slowly as he took in a breath and slowly turned around to face the cascading flames that enveloped the creature.

“Tansoytat Naxcan.” His Kydane was awkward but understandable. He knew the name of this… thing. A threat that had been loaming over his head for a very long time. His very own personal sword of Damocles standing right in front of him, a mocking reminder the faded ink on his back had become ironic years ago. So much for ‘Zef Laaitie’. If calling himself a common boy hadn’t been a joke then, it certainly was now, alone, out here.

The Fire Fox took a menacing step forward, tendril-like tails flipping every direction at once. The creature in his arms withered the closer it got. The heat intensified, the animal whimpered, it felt like his skin was going burn off.



The voice boomed again, he knew the word, it meant knowledge. But there was no time to react, the heat flared knocking him and the animal to the ground as a barrage of images seemed to unfold in his brain. There was a sense panic, stress, being so completely overwhelmed he couldn't breathe. A million television channels playing at once showing multiple lives, a thousand years of them. He tried to push it out at first, block the information driving his mind into vertigo. He paused when a single memory flash by, a memory of his adoptive father as a young boy on the street. He was reaching to help, but the reflection in the window was not him but… Him.

His leg hurt worse than the rest of him, every reminder of the man that wounded him always made phantom pain shoot through it. Seeing the fox in the window where he should be was the WORST kind of dream, but the memories kept coming. The feeling of bond even stronger than the one he had with his father became to painful to ignore. The story forcing it’s way into his mind was so much more painful than the one his father had told him, the light it shone on things tinted with blood. Anger boiled in him seeing the stupid mistakes, arrogance, and meddling that caused what happened to his home. His REAL home.

The scene of his adopted father and the man who hurt him facing each other for the last time played like a movie in his mind, only serving as an exclamation point to the horror he now knew.

“FOK. OFF!”

He cried out shaking the memories off in sheer rage, the animal he’d been holding yipping out with him as a flare of energy shot out from around him.

He scrambled to his feet as the large creature fell to its, lowering its head as the tails began to fade.

“...THE FOK YOU WANT, EH!?”

The massive creature said nothing, its flame slowly fading more and more. He felt the fire around him fade as a tinge of sympathy took hold. Was the Hemayan… dying? There was a sudden panic, the boy darting over and setting the injured animal down.

“NAH NAH NAH, Just hold on. Do it again! I can take it. I NEED YOU YA FOKKEN FOX! DON’T YA FOKKEN DIE! That place? It is gonna eat me alive! I am the LAST one! YOU CANNOT DO THIS!”

As flames started to die completely the voice came a final time.

---

Taffy went over to the boy and dropped to one knee by his side, giving him another glance before looking pointedly over her shoulder at the Draconi and Max. "You get it? It's not just a matter of convenience - if we don't get to shelter soon ourselves, we could be in trouble out here, with monsters...or worse. So it's either stay together, or separate...and be chow."



The boy suddenly erupted into flames. They stayed long enough for the collected people to notice as well as made Taffy lunge backward in shock before fading. The bandaged injuries seemed to sizzle, looking (and smelling) like they’d cauterized under the gauze.

She took a step towards the boy again, he suddenly sat bolt upright, “I am the LAST one! YOU CANNOT...!” He looked around dripping in sweat and breathing heavily at the numerous pairs of eyes on him.

---

---

Xell looked on, wide eyed with perpetual disbelief and wore a stubborn frown on his face. His attention snared away from sizing up the yobbo like Spicati to turn towards the Lotori girl who spoke for the first time since the gathering started to get as tense as it did.
For someone who had been trying to keep their cool and composure throughout the whole face off and since the arrival of the Nekomi, she sure had a way of spontaneously combusting.

Her tone appeared to lighten up and seem less rigid as she turned from Novan to Novan to tell them what they were to do. Even trailing off as she spoke to the lastest newcomer, Nikki, and even seemed welcoming and almost sympathetic when addressing her.

The Draconi looked up towards the evening sky as if looking for answers. Rolled his eyes and sighed. A cross between a defeated and a frustrated exasperation. Truth be told, of course he felt guilty for causing trouble. He knew he had some issues and that his venture out here was very single minded. However, he still wanted to make sure the group was going to be alright. Especially the withered looking otter. Being held at gun point and threatened was the only preoccupation he had that was making this expedition sour for him as of yet.
He had his eyes half shut with an unimpressed look as he folded his arms and turned to scowl at the Novan Medical student. Her stern look back was unfaltering.

“Ok, fine. I’ll help you carry the kid…” he replied reluctantly. Sneering at Max as their eyes met momentarily. Xell mouthed the obvious with no sound as he had two fingers pointed towards his own eyes, before pointing one finger at Max sharply.

The grey Draconi turned to look at Nikki, narrowing his eyes at her too. Seemed she knew too much, especially with regards to her earlier comment on how he was a bad thief. He did come to realise, however, that the other part of her comment about him not intending to take off with the medikit may have been a sympathetic gesture. Still, he had to be wary of her too it seemed.

Xell had his body half turned to look at Yonnath skeptically. His arms guarded towards his chest. Now that he was in close proximity to the otter boy, his withered state was all the more visceral.

Just as he took some cautious steps towards him, in the process of bending down to pick him up-

“Far f^&*ng out!” Xell shielded his eyes as the body flared up in flames. The sharp fahrenheit and radiation causing him to have to shield his face.The momentum of the fire and intensity appeared to hit its own terminal velocity as the flames died out which left a reminiscent smell of burning bandages. Causing the Draconi to drop his guard and look back at the body in apprehension which, by now, had bolted upright.

“I am the LAST one! YOU CANNOT...!”

The youth was in a sweat and looked wide eyed as his irises turned towards everyone within the gathering.
There was a moment’s long pause. The silence robbing everyone of a forthcoming reaction or voice temporarily. Making the crickets chirping in the background all the more palpable.

“Do you think he’s still going to need us to carry him?” Xell said in a loud whisper to Taffy, holding a hand to the side of his mussel as he did so.