OOCS
Chapter 30 : Plans fail / experts Fight
The two Cannidors had to crouch down a bit as they walked down the stairs into the tunnel. One, they were to tall to fit standing up down the path, two, they did want to use there meat shield hostages to cover themselves mostly and not partially, three, they had no problem to walk that way thanks to there impressive muscles and tail counterbalancing there posture, four, this way they just a bit faster got to see what awaited them at the bottom of this dungeon.
Karl-Heinz was trying to enact “nope nope nope” part three of the ever so far faithful plan of conflict avoidance, now ever more seriously than the other times were he just couldn´t be asked to deal with the bullshit of battles. Sadly for all involved Laka was faster and tackle grab, dragged him towards safety, unfortunate for the bunker population, the two Cannidor´s were using both hands to there fullest, one carrying the shield, the other wielding a gun of some laser sort and hip shooting rather skilled.
Shooting so skilled in fact that Karl gets hit in the upper left arm, instantly flash cooking away his flesh in a small local steam explosion, tearing away a chunk of flesh almost down to the bone, breaking his concentration, taking the left arm practically out of commission, flooding his body with a fight or flight reaction or in his case adrenaline to a point that his sens of time slows down to a crawl.
He can watch it all unfold nice and slow around him, the moment his arm got shot or rather the splatter of that shot painted Laka´s fur red, his Harem turned into a vicious frenzy. Laka speed up her tackle and drag to get him to safety much faster, Tris let out a battle roar putting most Leopard tanks to shame, Sarsa somehow slipped into cover with the other women and they all started blasting away at the entrance, turning the meat shield´s to charcoal and chunks, Vaskra ran off deeper into the tunnel making the start of some kind of alarm sound or command, trying to rally the other wifes.
The three Cannidor´s were ignoring the few shots that were actually hitting them due to there immunity to laser shots and no hit of the rail-gun the defenders possessed landed on the fluff sharks yet.
The invaders for there part opened fire at the bunker people but didn´t manage to hit more than the man in the crowd before needing to drop there weapons to hold and fend of the claws of a truly pissed of Cannidor.
This turned into a stalemate as the attackers were blocked by Tris at the bottom of the steps, the back up further up and out of the bunker firing there laser weapons but not actually doing anything to Tris, whilst the defenders on the inside were trowing everything they had at the attackers, firing as fast as there weapons would allow them to do, the second shot of the Rail-gun pinging in a bounce off of Tris shoulder plate and into the ceiling. Karl being dragged away from the scene fully awake but unable to focus enough to use his cheat skills.
Rushing past him and Laka were the reinforcements wearing what ever they could get there hands on in form of weapons and he could even see later in the flow that the prisoners were also recruited again to help.
The battle wasn´t going to well for the bunker either, sheer brute strength pushed Tris slowly back and claw marks could be heard forming on the steel protection of her body. The meat shields were blown to useless chunks and dropped, The rail-gun fired again into melee and didn´t hit anything vital on the enemy again.
Sarsa was by now organizing a retreat to the fallback line were the reinforcements took up position.
Karl-Heinz was no longer able to follow the fight as he got dragged around the corner of the door to the first fuck room and over into the mess hall. The battle raged on in the background whilst he was dropped onto one of the tables.
Before Karl again could try to do anything, he was being treated by Laka and the belly sleeper Kohb. As if unaware of the chaos down the tunnels and in perfect calm professionalism the Kohb removed Karl´s sleeve and with the help of a full alert Laka keept him pinned down. He wanted to do what ever help he could do to treat his wound, he wanted to be helpful in all aspects of life after all, but his useless left arm, not very useful in wound treatment feet and pinned down right arm didn´t make the cut too start operating on himself.
The Kohb for her part was doing the best she could with what limited supplies they had at hand, quickly closing of the still leaking vein or artery and then bandaging it all up and immobilizing the arm with a clean peace of cloth against his chest, kind of like an arm-sling but with no wiggle room.
As the seconds turned into minutes and a few more wifes get dragged into the room to get there holes stuffed before rushing or limping back into the fight, Karl had his own little breakdown again. This pained his surrounding wifes to see there husband cry again, but it did fit the current objective to keep him out of trouble by any means necessary.
Karl-Heinz just had boredom, on top of his shocked to the core adrenaline rush and feeling like he failed in helping his harem again. He wanted to help so bad but didn´t know how and was to deep down the rabid hole to be able to take a step back and reevaluate the problems. So he just sat in the corner and cried, in spite of the insistence to go and laid down properly, but his wifes were very busy so they couldn´t push this point of his pity-full small resistance.
All around him the bunker chaos eventually died down, after the initial explosion of rapid violence the fighting dragged on to a more methodical fighting, he could feel his flash bang magazine grenades being used and hear the distinct sound of the rail-guns.
After what felt like a hour of crying during the battle and another few minutes of intense silence, Vaskra came to announce. “We drove them back and took their camp!” Which earned her loud cheers from everyone able to do so. “We are now going to need every able hand to carry the stuff down here as it is a lot safer in the bunker than up there in tents.”
With that every able woman rose from their resting spots and started to walk out and try to help in the transport.
Karl managed to have that call out as his face slapping, mind back into place, moment and rose from his seat to go and try to help carry stuff. He managed to get out of the door and down the hallway to the fuck room before Laka stopped him with a hand paw on his right shoulder.
Stolen novel; please report.
“You only got one arm to use right now and it will be hard work so take it easy and stay down here.” She gently tried to command and plea to him.
He just turned around, looked her in the breasts before adjusting his hollow gaze up at her worried face. Karl then realized that he was down a useful arm and turned to continue walking with a shifted distraction goal in mind.
Laka tried to reach out again, but she saw that she wouldn´t do any good with stopping him now: So instead she did her duty and was his guard dog again.
Karl for his part was internally unable to get distracted, so much had happened since he had woken up in this hellscape of a planet. All the seemingly genuine affection he got for his juices and the admiration he got for his cheat crafting´s was shifting his self image. He was feeling like he was healing from his depression because he was feeling more shit than ever before in his life, yet he was more active than ever too.
From his previous attempts at getting out of his hole he had learned that it first feels worse before it starts feeling better and the harder he pushed to get better faster, the more blow-back of feeling shit he would get hit by. But now there was one important factor at play that never before graced him with its presence, he had outside forces pushing and dragging him along, willing to put up with his special kind of creepiness and eccentrics. This would crash him very hard very fast if he ever were to lose this support structure of his harem around him.
Kind of like that loving wife in ye village tales that would drag the proven and relapsed alcoholic out of the bar every night, so that the drunkard wouldn´t turn the months wage into a barman's profit. As she does her duty over and over again for months if not years, to save her family or her public image or her wealth, but still usually failing as the alcoholic got more crafty in blowing money or the wife exhausting and burning out from the effort.
Lucky again for Karl-Heinz, he had a platoon or maybe now only a squad, worth of fuck bunny's to share the burden. Still he could always recruit more to ease the needs of hands and he was a person who tried to please and tried to fit in, so he hoped to not be too big of a burden on his support structure.
In his mental inflection he completely zoned out and missed, as he had reached the outside, passively turned tents and other objects into bags, chests and even simple carts to easier move the supplies down the less steep reopened main access ramp into the bunker, the puddles of blood soaked mud and gore all over the place, managing to trip on a chunk of flesh, stumble forward two steps and then slip in a puddle of said mud, trying to catch his fall with one arm sling secured arm and the other hand in a snug pocket of his pants, ending his maneuver with his head in the bosom of a not yet cold corps.
His indignant grumbling didn´t last long in deaths uncaring mammarian embrace. Laka was there for him every tumbling step and grumbling mutter he had ushered since he was dragged out of the fight by her and into the mess-hall. So she used her not diminished endurance and strength too lift him up like one would a kitten, only on him using his t-shirt pullover bastard clothing, setting him back on his feet and plucking the chunks of mud and gore off of him.
In situations like this Laka was glad for Karl being so mentally ill, any normal woman would have gone catatonic from such an experience and would have stayed in shock for days if not weeks in the infirmary from the crippling wound. ´But he was not helping his healing process by walking around so much.´ were her thoughts as she then tried to nudge him back into the bunker with “You should go rest Hubby, you have done more than enough, let the sister wifes clean up the rest and heal up a bit. We don´t want your wound to reopen and you bleeding out on us. If you go down they might also got better medical supplies ready for you now.”
“No! I need to do stuff to keep my head thinking, need to process stuff” Came as a reply from the again wandering man, continuing to craft simplistic objects, but soon after he shifted over to making structures too. In the places of were tents were cleared out and removed, simplistic one room stone houses rose out of the ground with small windows, a chimney, door less doorway and stone floor.
He tried to think whilst doing these tasks, but completely failed, as the work was to mental sided instead of very simplistic body movement sided. So he stopped with a half rebuild village, hung his head and headed back inside.
Everyone could see how bad he was feeling by the not cleaned tears and snot still clinging half dried to his face. Laka gently herded him back to the mess-hall, were she saw the few crippled survivors of the harem, lucky for them the fortified positions kept most women unharmed or only minor injured.
Karl-Heinz did rush over to the severely messed up looking Tris, who was looking almost serene as the different women were working on trying to treat the bleeding cut wounds from between her not removed heavily scratched armor plates. He then gently rubbed her fur in between the neck and helmet armor, before asking “how are you doing? Do you need the armor off ?”
This got a smile from Tris and from all the others present, what a caring loving husband, except for the two women trying to treat Tris. The Kohb said a bit harshly “Yes remove the armor!” glaring at Karl.
Wilting under the glare Karl mumbled a shy “Ok” and “crafted” Tris naked with all cloth and metal laying in sliced pieces below her or on the ground.
Laka came over to loom threateningly over the Kohb, but the Kobold like bimbo short stack held her ground staring back up at Laka and said “What do you think? Let them smooch until big protector dies of blood loss?” Before Laka could react to that the Kohb´s attention was back on stopping that grim fate from happening to Tris.
Karl took the chance of the big awkward pause to jump in with his own problems and questions. “Here Tris,” Holding a credit card sized plate made from crafted stone next to her face. “I think you more than earned your own fetish fulfillment ticket for this one, and and … I am sorry for being such and ass and toying around with you before the fight ...”
Tris stoic grin of post battle fix up pain endurance turned softer into a warm smile that reached her eyes. Still she had to push her luck just a bit further with “and what about the time you trapped me in Sarsa´s den ?”
This made Karl full body nothing, and with a blank look he shot back “you were a loud mouth rapist bully, you earned that one, I hope you learned from it.”
Then he did wince as one of his wives gently brushed his left shoulder, sending a shiver down his arm and to his still fresh wound. The pain of it wasn´t to bad whilst he was distracted, but like eating ice-cream with a sore tooth, the gentle touch made it all that much more mentally present.
Laka flashed her teeth at the women in question, but was stopped by Tris hand around her muzzle. Tris then added “Get hubby treated, I can see it is still just bandaged.” To witch Laka obliged or rather that Laka aided the other women in the mess-hall carry, guide him onto a freshly emptied table, the women in question now laying on the ground in the corner of the room.
They then removed the soaked red bandages and filling material out of the reopened wound and did a more quality treatment with creams and injection and everything, they even opened them out of medical boxes that had sterile or clean ish sealing paper cases. The height of the procedure was someone disinfecting his wound somehow with Axiom!
To Karl this was fantastic distraction so he was looking at it like a good little boy waiting for the trick at a magic show. It was all so new and therefor special to him, not some boring cut or bruise that would be fixed up with a rinse, a cream and a band-aid or bandage. Worst injury he ever had was from a car crash that ended up in a hospital visit and a big nothing burger as he was strapped in good and only got some small cuts from the broken glass windows.
Lucky him the sizable chunk of now missing flesh would have send most people into panic or collapsed them from pain after the adrenaline wore of, but instead Karl had excellent high pain tolerance from all the work accidents and on top of that was suppressing his feelings for years now. So the end result was that he had the mental fortitude to soldier on even though his arm was now not more than a barely usable flail.
He hadn´t tried to move his hand yet. He guessed he would be crafting accommodations for himself for many parts of his life now.
The fascination in the operation on his wound treatment wore of as they got back to the “wrap it up” part of the procedure. So his gaze wandered around the room, as Laka was making sure his staying pinned down this time and not move much.
The room was overall optimistic, yet filled with despair as the wifes cried about the losses and the crippled cried about there future. Seems like he would craft prosthetic not just for himself when he was at it. Still it was much much easier to get a stump of a leg to work again instead of a stump of a hand to be handsy again and this room had been blessed or cursed with cover that eliminated all wounds below the nipples. At least that was what he could see in the room with him, excluding Tris who had the rules of melee combat fuck her up.
Given that his harem was more than just dotting on him, they gave him the best stuff. The best stuff meant in this case that they gave him a third ever bigger shoot of anesthetics, to spare him from the misery and finally send him back to a dream less slumber.