Chapter 119: The Smoke Obscures
“So you decided the best course of action...was to dye them green...”
Sahari laughed, wrapping her arm around Nalah as they got comfortable on the couch. “Best? Perhaps not. Amusing? Absolutely.”
Silva shifted in her chair, trilling her amusement before the note turned questioning. Her head tilted. “Is that a common thing? Dyeing fur, I mean.”
More chuckles came from the group, though most were from the Lilhuns viewing the startling degree of motion for the first time. Joseph shook his head in bemused exasperation, running his fingers through Pan’s freshly brushed fur while she touched up her legs. The simple ironwood tool was still as pristine as when he gifted it to her during the winter. Even now, he could still vividly remember the tears it brought, and how full of emotion her voice sounded as she told him that she loved him for the first time. Her name etched into the handle was covered by her paw, but he knew she had kept particularly good care of it, using it to keep herself fluffy and soft and never allowing even the slightest dirt to remain in the design.
It surprised him for something so small to be maintained so well, but she really did cherish it.
They had settled after their meal, chatting and generally enjoying each other’s company. Rob and Sil had decided to join them since they found the time, pulling over chairs from the table after insisting everyone else occupied the dedicated furniture. Sahari, Nalah, and Jax took one couch, while Joseph, Pan, and Tel took the other. Violet got comfortable on the floor, running the joint of her wrist over the Trilaxin’s feathers—something that earned barely contained whistles of glee as the avian cooed at how unexpectedly cute the Atmo was between questions. A click from the dormitory door drew everyone’s attention.
“Some do it,” Harrow answered, dragging her feet back into the hub from a bathroom break. Jax glanced to his side, noting that everyone had claimed a spot on the two couches and there wasn’t room for his mate. The orange-furred female paused as she got close, blinking slowly after a day full of translating for whoever wanted to speak to the doctors or scientists. “You can stay there, I got it.”
At her lazy declaration, she stopped at the closer couch, waiting for Pan to sit upright curiously before unceremoniously plopping face-down across the laps of Joseph and his fiancees. Tel allowed the contact, glancing down and letting the new addition settle before letting her arms rest across Harrow’s legs, while Pan flopped an ear, glancing between the loose clothing and her brush. Smiling, the Paw lifted the new lap pillow’s shirt to expose her back, working over the fur with a light touch. Joseph felt Harrow stiffen, but she relaxed after a moment, closing her eyes and letting the sensation continue, content with using Pan’s thighs as a headrest. The satisfied groan was met with quiet chuckles.
He wasn’t quite sure where to put his own hands, though... His only real option was to rest his arms over his mate’s shoulders, or effectively use Harrow’s haunches as a wrist rest. He settled for scratching near her tail and letting his right arm drape over Tel. His eyes drifted up to the dimming skylights, figuring they only had an hour or so until night.
“Have any of you guys dyed your fur?” he asked, dropping his gaze to the group. Several negatives were voiced in response. “Huh. I figured Nalah or Pan would have.”
Robert smiled at Violet and Sil, giving Joseph an entertained grin as he rejoined the conversation. “Why’s that?”
“Blonde and white fur,” he explained, tipping his head to both in order. “Wouldn’t need to bleach it first, really. Shit gets tricky with darker colours, so I figured they wouldn’t have as many issues.”
Pan perked, her expression growing conflicted for a moment. “Would you prefer it if I did?”
“No, no. Just curious.”
She didn’t seem convinced, a slight sadness stuck to her doubtful expression. Rob raised a brow, giving an exaggerated nod as he made the connection. “Emma used to dye her hair every now and then.”
The Paw’s fur bristled, frowning as she returned to grooming Harrow. “Then I have even less interest than before.”
“Why not more?” Tel teased, snaking her tail behind Joseph’s back to wrap around Pan’s, both languidly coiling while keeping firm contact with him. “Would it not be satisfying to upstage her in every form?”
Joseph sighed when a competitive smirk formed on both of their muzzles. “I didn’t ask because of that, and Tel, you’re being a bad influence. I was just curious since Leader and Tech are odd colours. Volta too, now that I think about it. Where is she?”
“She’s with Scarlet,” the Wraith provided lazily, stretching her legs out with exaggerated boredom as her game was cut short. “And Volta’s fur is natural, albeit rare.”
“The other two?”
“Leader’s may be natural, but Tech’s is altered.”
He hummed his acceptance and pondered it. Harrow opened an eye. “How often do humans change their colour?”
Rob chuckled. “Our hair? Depends on who you talk to, but a lot of people change it. Some, because they like the colour. Others, because they don’t like going grey with age.”
“Rob’s is dyed,” Sil added helpfully, earning the Martian curious looks from the pack. He held up his hands.
“I added the grey. Looking older makes you seem more experienced. Works great for negotiating deals with humans. The other species have their own views on it, so I adjust when needed. Appearances are important.”
“My fur stains too easily,” Pan lamented, lifting her foot to show a small lilac tint to her foot where ink had dripped onto it. “It is rather difficult to maintain at times.”
Jax and Sahari snorted their amusement in tandem, glancing at each other and laughing, neither having the issue with their black coloration. Nalah rolled her eyes. “Perhaps I should change my colour.”
“No,” Sahari denied instantly, still riding out her chuckling. “I’m rather fond of it.”
“It’s easier to see you blush anyway,” Joseph commented, ignoring the flat expression that was returned. “Hey, Pan basically turns pink if you catch her with the right thing. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t know you could blush at all.”
“Like you turn pink after a long sun?” Sahari teased.
“That’s sunburn,” he corrected, pointing a finger. Harrow moaned in protest, obviously enjoying his idle scratching. Tel reached over, leaning in to let her warm breath scorch his ear and dragging a claw up his throat, smirking when she got the result she desired. Satisfied, she settled back to how she was, the smug side-eyed look matching her tone.
“This is him blushing. It’s rather adorable.”
“So, Silva,” he dragged out, clearing his throat. It didn’t do much to stop the suggestive grins. “Do Trilaxin bother with that kind of thing?”
The avian smiled as Violet seemed content with feeling her feathers, getting up to see what her adoptive mother was doing to Harrow. “We take pride in what we were given, but some decorate their plumage with trinkets and the like. I prefer myself as I am.”
[She is very soft.]
Joseph and Rob laughed at the young Queen happily submitting her opinion on the topic. The Grand Hunter considered asking if Atmo practised similar physical alterations, but decided against it; Mama was the source of her knowledge regarding the rest of her species, and he didn’t want her to look for the answer, only to remember. Maybe when Rose was around next.
Their conversation continued lazily, the den enjoying their privacy from the rest of the pack, now that most had recovered enough to return to their own places. A few still stayed in the medbay, but the rest were expected to be up working again in a couple days—though under considerably lighter capacity. There were still a handful in the ship after their surgeries, but that was expected, and visitors were allowed, so it didn’t lead to many complaints.
It was in the middle of what could loosely be called ‘cultural exchange’ when a shrieking sound originated from Rob’s seat, causing flattened ears and puffed feathers. Wincing, the Martian pulled his portable terminal out of his pocket, trying and failing to lower the volume. Confusion and concern crossed his face as he tapped and shook the device, eventually popping off the battery to silence it. With the noise pollution dealt with, it made the crackling over the speakers in the den noticeable.
It started low—a rumbling bass playing through the sound system in stuttered chaos—but quickly increased in pitch until the distortion rolled off and faded out. Faint whining could be heard in its absence, turned ears all focusing towards where the ship and medical tent lay. A bright flash illuminated the dimming sky, a deafening bang shaking the windows, followed by muffled shouting from outside.
The brothers shared a look, Joseph patting Harrow to let him up.
“Anything explosive on board?” he asked as the rest of the pack got to their feet. Robert grimaced.
“The ship, if the right thing goes up.”
“How fucked would we be?”
“You wouldn’t be asking that question.”
Joseph nodded sagely. “Then it wasn’t that. Good.”
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“What happened?” Robert called out as they got close to the ship. Several humans and Trilaxin were rushing about, carrying supplies and making way for a group Joseph had yet to meet. Based on their gear alone, he figured they were mechanics or engineers that typically stayed inside—he had worked with quite a few, and recognized the tool belts. One of the staff paused in their hectic scramble, jogging over with a mixture of concern and confusion. The human pulled a mint from their pocket, tossing it in his mouth and shifting it around as he visibly thought of how to explain it.
“Ship’s dead in the water, sir,” he decided, biting down on the candy. “We managed to avoid any big failures, but a lot of capacitors for the engine bay went up.”
The Martian’s face tensed. “We brought extras, right?”
The man laughed, the strain not quite selling the easy-going vibe. “We have a ‘ship of Theseus’ level of spares, Rob—the boys made sure of that. No, the issue is that we’re trying to pin down what caused it.”
“Everyone on board okay? The patients?”
“All good,” he assured. “Most everything is shot right now, but they’re hooked up to pretty sturdy old equipment, if any. Why fix what isn’t broken, right?” The man paused, scratching at his cheek. “Well, we won’t be able to do fuck-all if something else comes up. The whole suite of tech in the med-wing is out until we sort reserve power. We’re just happy that the old crap held up.”
“I could take a look,” Joseph suggested, nodding towards the ship as he tried to keep his wariness at bay. Something about the events didn’t sit right with him. It dug in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.
The man shook his head, smiling at the offer. “No disrespect, sir, but right now, any extra hands wouldn’t fit, so we’d want the ones doing repairs be people who’ve helped build this damn thing to begin with.”
The Grand Hunter nodded, conceding that he'd likely be lost as soon as he came across anything custom. Most of his time working as an assistant to this or that was on standardized installations. A lot carried over, but not that much.
“Orders, Grand Hunter?” Jax asked. The Human turned, seeing the Heads on various levels of alert; as he could have guessed, Pan, Tel, and Sahari were several notches higher than the others. Violet fidgeted, nervous about the unexpected circumstances. He pursed his lips as he watched the young Queen focus on him, using him as a metric for what should be done—how bad the situation was, and if she should fear it. The sigh came out through a long breath as he forced himself to relax. It’s been too much recently for a child to put on her shoulders, and he shouldn’t add onto that without reason.
“None, really. The right people are doing their job, so we should do ours. Check on everyone and make sure nothing else fucked up. Run a security detail while the crew checks out the ship—the less they need to worry about outside of their job, the better. Let anyone who's curious know what happened—I don’t want the pack scrambling for guns over a malfunction.” Distant complaining drew his eye; a group of the mechanics were trying to get an electric pallet jack working, failing to bring it to life despite the percussive maintenance. “And ask the Atmo if they would mind helping haul things.”
The group nodded, most splitting off to manage their tasks, while his mates stayed behind. Pan smiled, the familiar gleam in her eye contrasting the subtle stress that she mirrored from the bond. She watched their daughter hold up a tablet to inform them that she would go get Rose and the others, before scurrying off to contribute.
“Shall I mobilize the Wraiths?” Tel asked, ears on a slow swivel. Joseph shook his head, waiting for Rob and Sil to excuse themselves and head off to oversee the ship.
“No. Whatever happened, they wouldn’t be able to help. They’re busy with the new group, right?”
“Kaslin is providing surveillance while assisting their integration.”
He cycled a breath. “Yeah, let the rest relax. It’s been a clusterfuck the last few days.”
As if to spite his decision to give anyone time off, a secondary boom echoed, sending a surprising amount of birds airborne from the trees. The thought of there being more in one area than he assumed possible only lasted a moment, replaced by caution sounding alarm bells in his head as a familiar ship bolted into view from the distance at speeds he didn’t know it was capable of.
The instruction wasn’t needed. The three of them took off towards the gate.
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Be it timing, or simply sheer adrenaline, he arrived at the gate just as the scout ship touched down. It rocked and jolted as the hard landing placed it directly at the walls, rather than somewhere in the forest as usual. The incongruous behaviour sent worry through his mind, but it was replaced by a moment of blank confusion when the doors of the ship hissed open, barely parting before showing the dark green-furred male carrying his purple counterpart on his back.
She was limp, wheezing breaths audible even from the gate. Each inhale was stifled and choked, every exhale rasping against her throat. Her glazed eyes spoke of nothing but pain and a haze of consciousness that drifted away with each passing second.
“Grand Hunter!” Leader yelled, tearing out of the doorway that only just barely allowed the exit. Joseph slowed his sprint, heaving as his system spun down from being ready for a fight, to connecting the dozens of details. Whatever was happening, it was becoming his problem, like it or not.
“What—“
“She needs aid! Please,” he barked, stumbling over an indent in the dirt. Joseph braced himself, catching the weight of both of them.
“What happened?”
Leader sucked in a breath, forcing short words through laboured gasps. “Heart. Lungs. Can’t fix it. Help.”
The fraction of thought that wanted to send the Wraiths to check for a trap was smacked into the recesses of his mind when he noticed the desperation in Leader’s eyes. Fear, regret, panic, and the tiniest mote of hope. A silent prayer.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Joseph shifted Tech over his own shoulders, freeing the male of the burden. She was completely dead weight, unable to do much more than struggle air into her body. “I hope we can, Leader. The ship blew a bunch of its electrical. We haven’t had a chance to check what still works.”
The male’s eyes widened, then narrowed to slits with bitter rage. Discouragement had his eyes avoid the Grand Hunter. “Please...”
“I’ll go on ahead.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, forcing all he could into the ground and taking off just as fast as he had rushed there. Pan and Tel slowed in their run, both struggling to keep up with the extended sprint. Seeing his passenger, Tel continued towards the gate, while Pan silently nodded, diverging to fetch whoever had the most medical experience. It was moments like this where he could kiss the Hunt Mother for the bond—he needed his oxygen to keep his legs moving. Just his scent alone communicated the determination, and his laser focus on the route back to Rob was all he needed for his mate to get the message.
Tech’s breathing hitched, her limp arms over his shoulders flexing to hold onto him, her claws digging into his chest and stomach. He ignored the pain, slamming his foot into the ground and going with the skid as he took a corner too fast. His other leg snapped down to catch him, pushing the two onward with heavy strides.
“Medic!”
The occupied crew shot confused glances towards the Grand Hunter, stiffening at the sight of the purple-furred female. Chirps, sharp whistles, and clipped shouts met his call. The whirlwind of activity ground to a halt, several doctors abandoning the testing of their equipment to accept the human as his legs failed him at destination.
“Heart and lung failure,” he hissed out, their urgent extraction of the female pulling her claws out of his skin. “Guy who brought her was too winded to explain. Start with that.”
A Trilaxin trilled their understanding, helping to shift the patient to their stronger human colleagues. “Get doctor Marks and Abadhn! Tell them we have a possible code blue!”
A human by the equipment slapped the device they were working on. “Most everything is down!”
“Then use the portables!” the avian returned, ushering along the group. Several others began disappearing into the medical tent, shouting their findings as others began offloading Tech onto a bed and clearing the space they would need.
“AED is here!”
“Auto-Resp is down!”
“ECMO is down!”
“M-Vent is down!”
Joseph forced himself to abandon using his knees for support, hearing the plodding steps of several Lilhuns approach from behind. Harrow, Mi’low, Toril, and a few others who had helped with the clinic waited for orders as they recovered from the running. The Grand Hunter pointed at the tent, drawing a breath before trudging into it.
It was already a flurry of movement, but the addition of the extra bodies only caused the flow of people to shift as they avoided crashing into them. One looked like he wanted to tell them to get out and leave them to their work, but stayed quiet once they registered who they were about to bark at. A grimace of reluctance was followed by a nod to Doctor Marks, the woman in the process of instructing a few others on dosages of medications they would likely need. Joseph thanked them, asking the Lilhuns to wait while he figured out what was what.
“Doctor, I brought a few people who kept the rest alive before you got here.” He glanced back at Toril, the white-furred male smiling as usual as he examined the goings on. “And a chemist who should be able to do something, hopefully.”
The woman glanced at him after confirming which drugs were going to be used. Her lips pursed before giving him a terse nod. “Then get them to scrub up and stay back unless we need something. We have far too little to go off of. Is the chemist a biochemist or have they worked in the medical field before?”
“No, but Harrow should be able to help sort out which medications were used by their people—thanks to her clerical work—and Toril will be able to tell you which are toxic or useful,” he responded instantly. “The rest can lug shit or just pass things as needed while your associates get the machines working, or find alternatives.”
The doctor paused, a smile forming on her face. “I think I like you. Do it. Harrow can still translate, right?”
“Yep.”
“Then get them washed and ready to assist. We have no time and...” She glanced at a dial that was connected to a sleeve wrapped around Tech’s arm, a doctor pumping it with air. “Dammit, her blood pressure’s dropping. Go, go!”
Joseph stepped out of the way as she jogged past, taking out a stethoscope and scissors to cut the clothing that was too tight to properly get under. Whatever it was made of, it was meant to take a blade, because she struggled and failed to slice the fabric. Mi’low looked at him for permission as the doctors argued about what they had on hand to get rid of the shirt and vest. With a nod, the actress parted the crowd, extended a claw, and hooked the material with precision, ripping it open with carefully placed tears. She stepped back and let them strip the purple-furred female.
“I’d expect Pan or Idee to do that, but I’m surprised you knew where to nick it,” he admitted, raising a brow as he joined their side. He relayed the instructions from the doctor, sending the rest to follow them. Mi’low stayed quiet for a moment.
“There were many outfits for my roles which were designed to look stunning, not to be easy to remove.”
He closed his open mouth, surprised to get an actual answer from her as she followed the others to prepare herself.
The tent flap opened again, Tel and Leader entering. The male took one look at the building cluster of people and clenched his fist. His gaze flickered to the Trilaxin, tension rising. Eyes closing forcefully, he calmed himself with deep breaths.
“Are they assisting her?”
Joseph took a step closer to lay a comforting hand on his arm. “They’re doing what they can. A lot is out of commission, so some of the pack is getting ready to help while they get replacements sorted.”
The dark green-furred male nodded, letting himself observe the mix of species crowd around and begin hooking things up to Tech, grimacing as they shaved parts of her chest. Joseph translated an abridged version of what was said to keep him in the loop.
“Setting the AED to stabilize... Fuck, it’s shot. Hand me the defib! Setting two-hundred. Shock in three. Two—“
Leader’s eyes widened. “Shock? Wait. Don’t!”
Joseph clapped, the sharp sound startling the one about to hit the button. He held a finger up, ignoring the demanding expressions. “Make it quick, Leader. Why did I stop them?”
His face became the war zone of an internal struggle, a visible debate of if he should say it. A brief pause was all he allowed. “She is augmented. Her organs are likely artificial; I have no idea what voltages or the like would be safe, and which would simply finish her journey to the Void. I took a risk with the chemical booster I gave her on the ship as it is.”
“Of fucking course,” he spat, waving his arms across to cease the movement. “No electricity! Artificial organs. Leader says he gave her an injection, too.”
A wave of silent cursing passed through the doctors, none wasting time and ordering for scalpels and the like. One barked for Harrow, getting the orange-furred female in with Toril and rattling off questions. Leader wasn’t long before getting grilled about what exactly he gave Tech, but the answer caused some of the worry to dilute. Rapid-fire conversation flew by as someone finally pierced the flesh of the purple-furred female, urging those not required to back off. Following the request, he and several others did, letting the doctors close a roll-down fabric barrier to isolate the area.
Silhouettes danced against the wall as large lights were brought from elsewhere and set up, Leader clenching his fist as more and more tools were called for and handed over. The procedure dragged on and on, frustrations growing with the sounds of a bone saw chewing through ribs. The dark green-furred male dripped blood from his paw, leaving the tent for air along with several others. Harrow and Toril stayed in for consultation, while Joseph leaned against a support pillar, his jaw set and stiff.
A crimson form joined his side, Mi’low quietly watching the shadows rip into the soldier. “You are aware she is not your responsibility.”
“Yep.”
“Yet you permeate the scent of worry?”
He gave a dry smile to the female. “Yep. Her and Leader gave us weapons when we needed it. If it wasn’t for them, I might not be able to hug my daughter today.” His eyes shifted back to the fabric wall. “I owe them this much. I just hate that I can’t do more.”
The High Huntress nodded after a delay, perking when Doctor Marks poked her head out to find him. She wasted no time in closing the short distance. “Joseph, we have a problem. She’s more replacement than original.”
He blinked, his brow furrowing as his eyes scoured the empty air for answers. “Okay, so she’s frail? I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that she doesn’t need a doctor, Joe. She needs a biomechanical engineer and software specialist.” The woman snapped an arm back towards the room. “Best we can do is stop her blood from stalling in her system and starving her brain of oxygen, but even that is only going to last so long. If we don’t sort her organs now, then she’s going to be reliant on manually pumped and filtered blood until we can get the ship repaired—and that’s assuming her body doesn’t go into shock the moment those drugs her friend pounded into her run out. I don’t know the biochemistry in play, but it’s the only reason she’s not a corpse. We don’t have much time before she ends up one anyway.”
Harrow bolted out of the impromptu medical theatre as soon as the doctor finished speaking, her pupils wide and fur splattered with blood. Joseph took a step towards her as she flew past.
“Harrow!?”
“Terminal!”
He blinked at the sharp answer, hesitating before taking off after her and informing the rest he would be back.
The Grand Hunter burst into the dormitory wing, pushing off the hallway wall as he changed course towards the hub, letting the crash-bar of the doors take his weight. The facilities wing entrance swung open, just in time to see Harrow’s tail disappear into the terminal room. Parts flew through the doorway, one nearly hitting him in the chest when he entered after her. “Harrow, what the hell?”
Her ear turned as she knelt and leaned under the desk, paws determined on disassembling the pod’s system from the base’s. “Our best shot is plugging in directly and seeing how bad the damage is.” A claw flicked towards the black box on the desk that he used as a coaster. “Take that. We’re in a rush.”
“What—“
“—Joseph, please? Trust me,” she pleaded, slowing in her movements. He exhaled the breath caught in his throat, avoiding the maelstrom of wires and connections she left in her wake to disconnect what she wanted.
“If it doesn’t work?”
“Then Tech is dead, but at least we tried everything.”
He nodded, finding the first of many cables and getting to work.
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“We need power!” Harrow yelled, carrying the black box. Joseph passed off the pod’s system to one of the pack, sweat dripping off him. The damn thing weighed more than he remembered. Then again, Mama helped that time, so he hadn’t been required to run with it before.
The Grand Hunter sat on the floor as a new wave of demands and compliance worked through the walled off operating room. His throat begged for water as the shadows scrambled for what electronics might still be functional. A monitor, keyboards that must have been decades old, and an old generator to run everything.
“Black box, pass me the red cable. Just disconnect it from the main board,” Harrow’s voice broke through the mess of speech, taking command of the room. The hesitation didn’t last long, most of the doctors having been ready to write the whole thing off. With a direction in front of them, they started following her orders when they weren’t operating some devices that he assumed was keeping the soon-to-be-dead female going.
Occasionally, Toril would be chastised for digging through the drugs and asking which were which, getting a hasty answer from the orange-furred female. Every one in ten or so was placed on a table with directions given. When it became too much for Harrow to multi-task, Mi’low was asked to help, the actress promptly putting aside her distaste for the male to translate his incoherent mutterings into something usable. A cocktail was formulated and injected at his insistence, buying them valuable time that was only possible because of the modifications Tech had.
The same modifications that were currently killing her.
A break in the action drew Joseph’s gaze up from the floor. Harrow begged for silence as she loomed over the prone shadow, a spark preceding what could only be described as the opening to a horror movie—wires and prongs jabbed into a nondescript form, seen through the haze of fabric.
The room went deathly still in expectation. Seconds ticked by, only to be met with bated breaths and crossed fingers.
Harrow’s voice came out as a whisper, but Mi’low was apparently the one asked for. The High Huntress obliged, leaning in to hear what was needed. The conversation lasted a while, none wanting to interrupt the hushed Lilhun speech. All that could be heard was the shuffling of feet and the constant ticks and hisses of the tools keeping Tech alive. A moment longer, and the crimson-furred female exited the room, hesitation and suppressed sorrow on her face. She inhaled, failing to speak a few times before shaking her head.
“Bad news?” he asked carefully. Mi’low stared at him, seemingly deciding on something.
“We are unable to fix them.”
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Night had fallen over the settlement, giving way to orange glow and quiet mourning. Leader sat away from the fire with his odd recording device on a tripod, capturing the funeral in its entirety as proof of his crew mate's death. The pyre was little more than cinders by now, but he waited silently to collect whatever was left. Most everyone else had retired for the night, but Mi’low watched the smoke rise with her own grief painted on her face—an odd departure from her usual stone-faced overseeing.
The dark green-furred male had taken the news that Tech was gone stoically, the horror only lasting for a few seconds before he quietly let everyone know he would be back. When Mi’low suggested letting the purple-furred female go to their Goddess under the watch of an Essence and an Aspect, he laughed dryly, stating his distaste for religion. His acceptance a moment later came through a bitter nod and tense shoulders, claiming that she would only be incinerated aboard the vessels in space anyway.
At least here on the ground, her passing would be given more respect than a short speech and an updated file—even if that wasn’t all she deserved.
Joseph stayed out of it for the most part; he had been around too much death recently. He still contributed to the process that he had gotten all too familiar with, but his heart wasn’t in it. He felt dirty giving his input. Disingenuous.
The body had been wrapped in a pelt—the nicest one they had free—and carried onto the pyre as usual. A slip caused an arm to fall out of the bundle, the purple fur barely visible against the black mono-deer’s in the dim moonlight. It was tucked back in, and a sheepish apology was given, but the soldier simply watched with wet eyes and rigid posture. It was yet another confirmation that his friend was gone.
“I think you can grab what you need now,” the Grand Hunter voiced softly, standing behind the seated male that failed to notice his approach. Leader turned an ear, but didn’t give any affirmation before he struggled to his feet, walking to the dying embers with a heavy stride. Oddly shaped objects remained in the ash—the burned metals of failed replacement organs. Each was picked up and put into a container that he had brought with him, making sure to remain within view of the recording device the whole time to catalogue everything.
“I think that’s everything,” the male confirmed, sifting through the ash with his foot. Though the words were just barely loud enough to hear over the ambience, Joseph averted his eyes at the casual language. Leader had always tried to keep a professional appearance when speaking, but the occasional conversation let slip his actual personality. Seeing the male abandon it entirely told far more than what he was letting show on his face.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph offered, guilt taking a large role in saying it. Leader shook his head slowly. The contents were brought back to the tripod, then laid down while he packed everything else away.
“If anything, I must thank you,” the dark green-furred male corrected. “As...awful as it was to watch, I know you tried everything. There was no platitudes nor deception, just an attempt at the impossible.”
The male stood, slinging the bag onto his back while he picked up the container, holding it to his chest. The Grand Hunter grimaced, looking back to the smouldering cinders. “What brought you guys out here anyway?”
Leader stiffened. “...There is to be a meeting amongst the powers soon. The UM, Trill, Sunundra, and yourself.”
“What?”
“We were going to provide transportation to a predetermined location. We weren’t told where yet. You have two suns to pick your security for the trip, then we leave on the third.”
Joseph felt his stomach drop. “Then what happened to—“
“Warp-spike,” he spat, losing the ire behind it to solemness. “They probably wanted to make sure you couldn’t run, or track where they intended to hold the congressional and sabotage it.”
“...Should you be telling me this?”
The male laughed. “No, but you certainly showed more compassion for her life than they did.” He fell quiet, eyes wearily meeting Joseph’s. “They knew the ‘spike would kill her, yet they did so anyway. No warning, no apologies... Not even an opportunity to evacuate... Just her...falling breathless on my bridge and clinging to me, her eyes begging to make it stop. She said she didn’t fear the Void any longer, but when I injected her with the booster, all I saw was gratitude for the moments extra I had given her... I just regret that it wasn’t enough...”
The Grand Hunter’s head hung low. “I’m sorry.”
A paw on his shoulder surprised him, his gaze rising to see Leader smiling. “You drove her nuts. She couldn’t admit that you were doing something wonderful here... I think she respected it, in her own way—once she got past your origin.”
The male patted Joseph fondly, turning to walk away with the container held tight. “I could be discreet with this, but I’m feeling less than patriotic at the moment. The orders were to bring one of each representative belonging to the major powers on this planet. I believe your kin, his avian mate, and your kit all qualify, no? You are permitted two guards for each. I will have the paperwork sometime next sun for you to confirm. Rest well, Grand Hunter...and thank you again for trying.”
He watched the male leave, carrying the remains of someone dear to him with his grieving buried under the darkness of night. Joseph couldn’t help but want to explain, but nothing he could say would make the situation better. For once, he needed to listen to what Mi’low said.
The crimson-furred female waited until Leader had disappeared into the settlement before she stood, hiding the wipe of her eyes with the action. Joseph didn’t see a point in mentioning it. She had only hinted at it, but it was an emotional day for more than one person.
“I am surprised you did not tell him,” she commented, the attempt at sarcasm falling flat. He shook his head.
“No. I trust you.”
“Even if you find it disgusting?”
Joseph snorted. “Yeah. Rob’s crew weren’t happy with it either…”
She glanced back to the ashes. “I know you embraced the sullied reputation and scornful looks to achieve your desire. If anything, it shows me how correct I was to follow you. How important we are to you… The Smoke obscures, but it cares not for how it does so. Merely that it does.”
“But you care.”
She smiled, a fresh shimmer to her eyes being blinked away. “Yes, Joseph. I do, but I serve the Guardian now. To act in alignment with his goals is more important than my own feelings on the matter.”
He placed an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her against him. Surprisingly, she didn’t have any comment to make, instead allowing the contact for a while. “I’m sorry. I know this should have been…different.”
“It was my plan,” she assured, politely freeing herself. “Now we must wait and have trust in the one who will bear your kits, no?.”
The High Huntress walked away, heading back to her den for the night. Joseph furrowed his brow, struggling to recall when the topic would have came up, before letting the subject drop. She probably dug it up one way or another, and seeing as how it hasn’t become a subject of gossip, she hadn’t told anyone else.
“Thank you...for agreeing. I can only imagine how it makes you feel,” he called out, hoping the actress could hear him. He looked over, seeing the crimson-furred female slow to a stop. She lingered on the corner of a building to take a steadying breath, nodding before disappearing. He felt guilt when the torchlight reflected off her damp eyes.
The Grand Hunter stood there alone, playing through the events in his head.
Death was starting to wash off of him after losing Mama, because it felt like there were a fleeting few that would dig so deeply ever again. It was enough for him to regret how flagrantly he waved a process his pack held dear, but doing so this way…
He offered an apology to the Lilhun Goddess, hoping that she would allow the Hatcher to watch over just one more soul for him—a compensation given to the departed that he couldn’t give himself. Maybe if things had been different. Maybe if he had made more of an effort somehow…
Hopefully, Leader would forgive him for lying, but to answer that small prayer in the male’s eyes, the truth would need to be withheld.
The Smoke obscures all.
Even the Fortress.