Marek sat huddled over his drink, wishing that the noise around him would abate long enough to listen to the latest updates on the Galactic News Vid. He'd seen so many clips from this world or that, places he'd been, places he'd rather never see again. But there was this one, Star City, which was central to the current reports. He recognized faces, some of the clips showed the chaotic mess of mopping up after a massive Xeno invasion.

The merc respected Xenos, Yauties and soldiers alike. Soldiers, because he'd been one. Yautja because they were the most badass of baddassery out there. And Xenos... because they were far smarter than they let on. And now - now, they were glomming onto dragons? Marek had encountered a couple breeds of dragon before - mostly on backwater low-tech worlds. But Star City had them by the dozen, and had as many different kinds as he'd seen of intelligent lifeforms plus their cousins...

Finally, Marek had enough of the noise, and stood up, reached his hand to the vid unit and cranked the sound up. The bar he was in didn't grow quieter, not for a moment, but then when they saw who had moved the sound control, numerous men and women sat back down and resumed their rowdy conversations in a more subdued tone. Marek glared at the vid, seeing something about 'anger and danger and perhaps tossing Gavin Vance off the station for good'.

Someone nearby grunted, "they should string him up, xeno-lover like that."

Marek turned his gaze to the other man, clearly another space marine, but he might have already cleared his service by the looks of his rank insignia. Young looking - too young, too squeaky clean, too idealistic for Marek's taste.

Marek thumbed toward the vid and growled, "that man is a hero, punk, anyone that can put xeno against their own kind deserves a damned medal for the trouble. Not that he'll get one, blast the politicians to hell."

The younger man looked at Marek with a mixture of surprise and confusion. But before he could begin spouting any kind of core-world rhetoric, Marek cut him off.

"Look, that station's a hot bed of action any time of day or night. Who better to make sure it's running smoothly than someone who can get his mind into a hive and be everywhere at once?"

"Sounds like you admire him a little much," Rax, the younger marine, said. "Not that I mean anything bad by that, just... You don't look like the type to admire anyone."

"You think I'm the one to be admired, kid?" Marek let a smirk crawl onto his lips. "That's a new one."

"Well, you've seen enough action," Rax inclined his head, "clearly, but you've come out all right."

Marek made a pfaugh noise, "Bet you think I have a room full of eager ladies waiting to hear the story about that scar, eh kid?"

Rax merely laughed, "no, no, just... never mind me. My friends always tell me I'm stupid when I'm druink."

Marek suspected that he was more than a little correct - drunk or not.

Eventually though, Rax spoke again, "but I think you're... kind of right anyway, now that I think about it. Those things roam in packs, and what do we do?" He indicated his rank, and Marek's holstered gun. "We're in packs all right but not always as organized as we'd like to be."

"That's all I'm sayin', kid." Marek nodded. "Let me buy you another round of stupid, eh?"

Though it seemed remarkably unlikely, Marek began to feel a bit more relaxed around the kid. Kid - who was he talking about? From what Rax said, he'd been in the service for over twelve years, three tours, and had seen plenty of action. But he apparently came from a wealthy family that chose to help him 'recover' his good looks and health when he came home beat half to death. Lucky him.

Before the night was through though, Rax made a strange comment indeed. "Maybe you should go there, looks like that Vance guy could use the support."

It was true. As Marek retired for the evening, he wondered. Star City wasn't that far, and the cleanup efforts would surely be continuing for weeks, if what the vids showed was true. Whole decks had to be scoured for 'huggers and spare eggs, so why not go help? It would be a good change of pace, at least. He thought about asking Rax to come along, but wasn't sure that the man didn't already have something else going on himself.

***

There was indeed plenty of work to be done at Star City. And perhaps it was no coincidence that there were many unbonded or stray dragons helping - this place was an investment for them, coming to bond or mate, spread their genes around. Marek had done plenty of that, he knew there were at least two dark-haired brats with his own genetics running around on various planets.

It did surprise him though, that this particular dragon came to him. A shiny, but difficult to define muddy brown dragon - male, and something told Marek that there was far more to this wandering mutt than met the eye. His tail braided unusually - that was something that Marek had never seen before.

His name was Chorandouth, a mouthfull to say but ... so much easier to think. Choran, Marek called him, was a good young dragon. Almost as starry-eyed as that Rax fellow. Marek and Choran spent a few days together... so few, but so valuable. There were many more such dragons around, some looked as though they might share family with Choran. Though truth be told? Choran was quite small, he'd be big enough to ride... maybe... though Marek suspected that Choran himself thought he was a little too small to tackle some of the more difficult xeno infestations in the Station.

... And he would be right.

They weren't really going too far into the Station, but it was somewhat quiet, creepily so. Too late, Marek heard a scuttling sound. One that Choran made out correctly and went into action.

You will live, my one, and I will... as well... in a way. Chorandouth lept in front of his bond, Marek standing in dismayed surprise. When he next saw his bond's head.... it was covered!

"Oh hell," Marek sighed. He reached for his bond, felt his pain - it wasn't bad, it really wasn't. It was not death, after all. Choran was quite lucid, able to answer Marek's questions and ease his own mind. But he knew... This would end only one way.

You admire him, go ask him... how he does it. I will be with you, my one. You will make an excellent queen.

"Oh now THAT wasn't necessary!" Marek laughed at his bond's wording... and slowly stroked the mud's slick skin a while longer.

***

Chorandouth bounced back for that week long venture through Star City... Though Marek did have to register the fact that he'd been impregnated with a Xeno, and soon there would likely be consequences. They had known one another for such a short time, yet Choran and Marek still performed like a team that had been together forever.

They had located something quite odd in the larger dragonry corridors, including a stunning Myrsilk dragon that appeared to be suffering the same fate as Choran. But it was clear that whatever would be coming from that dragon, would take its own sweet time in doing so. Perhaps they would become friends, Marek and this dragon... but nothing would be like the bond with Choran.

It is time, my one. I do not ... wish to burden you with the pain that will come.

Marek choked back a little emotion. "I don't want you feeling it either, Choran." Through their intimate mental bond, Marek had already felt the stirrings of the burstling that would be coming to the surface soon. Choran's guts must have been reasonably nerve-free - but that was not muscle, sinew, bone. By the time Marek delivered the medication that one of the locals assured him would leave Choran's mind clear but the pain of his body distant, the dragon's chest was heaving with the motion within. They both sighed a bit in relief, when the drug reached Choran's brain.

Thank you, my one. I have been... trying to coax this new life to ... be with you as ... confidently as I have been.

Marek was stunned. He had learned more about Vance's situation, wondered if he'd have survived given the circumstances. But he didn't have much time to think on it now - Choran was spared, mercifully, the final moments of his life being any more painful than his shell breaking might have been. And sadly, Marek had to dedicate his entire mental and physical being to dominating the burstling as it came through the mud mutt's chest cavity. Instead of, as he'd have liked, comforting his bond. But he knew, Choran was brave beyond words. Perhaps this was all for the best.

The burstling bore a strong resemblance to Chorandouth, in color at least. But eyeless, and with such a savage mind!

"You will obey me, won't you?" Marek gasped, his mind suddenly touching - through Choran's last living act - and indeed, suddenly feeling the ebb of anger, replaced by acceptance.

The burstling ... he wasn't sure what to call it. Marek was just as curious about it as ever. Perhaps his old squad might think he was losing his mind, or had lost his touch... but Marek allowed the burstling to approach. It had eaten, obviously, but needed something more. Something that had been pushed back from his mind for the last week finally shot to the fore: Choran's body would ... probably be best eaten by the thing, or by something. It sickened him, but the dragon was now gone as much as he was before they'd even bonded. His mind still lingered, though, somewhat in the form of this slick, long burstling.

In the chamber where Marek and Chorandouth had bedded down, eventually only Marek and the saited, hissing burstling were left.

He would name the xeno Charess, a nod with respect to both the Xeno and his bond. It didn't take long for the burstling to settle in, wedging itself (he still wasn't sure of the gender, though if he had to guess it was male) into the upper corner and sealing itself into a sheathe of goo. There would likely be no riding that 'dragon' either, Marek chuckled. Charess had an interesting, almost curious tint to his mind. More like a flavor, a loamy scent. It matched his color, the same mud color as Choran.

Marek tested his mind. Marek was never much on telepathy personally, but since Chorandouth bonded to him and broke open parts of his mind that hadn't really seen the light of day before, Marek knew he had to practice. He knew he had to learn to control this xeno, otherwise... well, otherwise there would be Rax back there at that bar laughing at this old man for being all talk and no substance. He could never, ever, let that happen.

Next / The Myrsilk

Dragon

Name: Chorandouth
Gender: Male
Species: Hydra Mutt
Colour: Mud
Rank: Greater (#9)
Father: Mud-Brown AAM Mutt, Ozamdouth http://dray.pegaruny.com/Dragons/Aten.htm#Ozamdouth
Mother: Dark Gold Hydra Mutt, Cwynannth http://dray.pegaruny.com/Dragons/Chate.htm#Cwynannth
Size: Small
Height: 5'
Abilities: Telepathy, Teleportation, Firebreath
Personality: Honor-Bound, Heroic, Quirky

DTF background | Dollwizard | Dray's Giveaways