Chapter 3: Downed Dragon

Abandoned settlement, 3.2 km east of Installation 83-RK, 0915hrs

I cautiously peek my head over the broken wall I am hiding behind. The downed dragon is unmoving, seemingly unconscious, if not dead. Slowly I make my way down to the oasis towards the black mass. Its jet-black scales glisten under the morning sunlight. The sight is breathtaking, and would have been picture-perfect, if not for the fact that it was a dead dragon. I approach, pistol aimed squarely at where the dragon's heart should be.

I realise that would be a useless move, as 9mm rounds would do nothing to wound, or even harm the dragon. Sighing, I holster my pistol and unsheath my knife. Maybe it would work better.

Maybe I should have at least taken a shotgun before coming here, and I mentally kick myself at this stupidity.

My thoughts return to the Night Fury body now lying in front of me. Forgetting myself in this moment of triumph, I exclaim, "Yes! I finally did it! I have brought down this mighty beast... Aah!"

A deep rumble startles me, causing me to fall backwards onto the ground. It wasn't dead yet!

Stirring, the beast opens its large eyes. They are bright yellow with midnight-black pupils, a cross between the eyes of a snake and those of a cat. And they're trained on me.

Swallowing my fear, I raise my blade, readying myself for the final strike, ready to pierce its cold-blooded heart.

"I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm going to kill you, and cut out your heart, and bring it to my father. Yes... I'm a soldier... I'm a soldier!"

Those bright eyes cast a piercing gaze... I look at it, and suddenly I feel strange. That's not a look of anger, or ferocity. I sense no ferocity, none at all, strangely. It's a look I would never imagine such a fearsome creature could have.

It's an expression of fear. Utter, cold fear.

I shut my eyes, trying to shut out that image. I try to bring down the blade, but my arms refuse to move. It's as if there were some great force resisting and holding me back. I struggle against it to no avail.

Then a realization hits me. I can't do this.

Sheathing my knife back into my belt holster, I sigh and turn away. "... I can't kill a dragon..."

Before I can walk away, my conscience pulls me back. "No, I did this."

The Night Fury is still held down, grounded by the steel chain net. My knife won't be enough to release it. I cock my pistol, and fire some well-placed shots, taking care not to hurt the creature any more. The chains break open, loosening the net's hold on the dragon.

Big mistake.

The air is knocked out of me as I am slammed against a half-broken wall, and my knife is thrown out of my reach. Razor-sharp claws pin my neck to the brick surface, mere millimeters from slicing open my jugular vein. The hot dragon breath flows down the front of my face. I am unable to think, my mind is a blur as my uneventful life flashes in front of me.

The dragon rears its head, baring its fangs as its mouth opens. Oh god, this is it. I shut my eyes, anticipating a hopefully painless and merciful death.

A loud, deafening roar fills my ears, and I feel wind across my face. The Night Fury releases its hold on me, and flaps its great black bat-like wings, flying off between the ruins. It slams against a building, causing it to crumble and collapse, probably an accident on its part. I can no longer think straight, my mind a mess from the shock and relief at what just happened.

My legs give way, and I collapse on the sandy floor. All goes black.


Installation 83-RK, 1900hrs

I finally regained consciousness under the heat of the midday sun. The day passed relatively quickly, after I was chided by Sgt. Gobber for being late for store duties. Before I knew it, it was evening.

As I entered my bunk, I received a call from my father's office. He wanted to see me; a common occurrence, actually. It would either be because I had screwed up badly, or because I had screwed up REALLY badly. This was perfect timing, actually, as I needed to speak with him about something too. As I walked out, 3SG Astrid rolled her eyes and gave me a look that said 'What is it this time?'

I sheepishly grin and exit the room before she can notice my blush. I know she's my platoon commander, but I can't help but notice every time how beautiful a girl she is. It's tough being near the person you have had a crush on since you were eight.

Shaking away thoughts of fluff and romance, I knock on the door to the General's office. His tone is serious as usual. "Come in, Hiccup."

Why even my dad calls me by my callsign, I don't know.

"Son, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Same here, sir."

Taking a deep breath, I voice out my thoughts, "Dad, I don't want to fight dragons."

Only to have it come out together with my father's, "Son, I'm going to let you fight dragons."

"What?" we said in unison, surprised.

I decided to let my father go first, out of respect. "Alright son, you got your wish. Dragon training. You join your platoon tomorrow morning under the tutelage of Sgt. Gobber."

Oh boy, I should have gone first.

"Um, Dad, I was thinking, we do have a surplus of dragon-fighting soldiers, but… er… do we have enough… uh, vehicle maintenance people or building repair soldiers…"

"You're going to need this," He completely ignores me, again. He hands me a fireproof training shield and an M1014 semi-automatic combat shotgun.

"Dad, all due respect, but I don't want… no, I can't kill dragons!"

"But you will kill dragons!"

"Dad, I'm pretty sure that I won't," This was turning into a very one-sided conversation… as always.

"It's time, Hiccup." He's quite determined about this, I can tell. But doesn't he realize that I really can't do this?

"Can you not hear me…"

"This is SERIOUS, son. When you carry that shield and gun, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, and you think like us." This is going nowhere in my favour. By now, I have given up and am resigned to my destiny to be dragon chow.

"Deal?"

"Sir, I…"

"DEAL?!"

I give a reluctant sigh, "Deal."

"Good. Train hard, train smart. I will be leaving on a mission tonight at 0000hrs." The General gives a contented look, and pats my shoulder in encouragement. He picks up his vest and armaments. "I'll be back, if all goes smoothly."

"Yes, sir. And I will still be around. Maybe." I reply semi-sarcastically, as he exits the office.

He never listens.


Back in my bunk, all my platoon mates are already asleep. Tomorrow would be the beginning of my platoon's dragon combat specialists' course. 3SG Astrid, having already passed it, would be taking it as a refresher course instead. The shotgun feels particularly heavy, and not because it was made of metal. The hopes of my father rested in my hands, in this gun. It's too much, too heavy for me.

I look out the window at the search troops preparing their gear and vehicles for the mission. If all went as per normal, less than half the force would make it back. I heave a sigh again and try to go to sleep. I would need all the rest and luck I could get for tomorrow.