Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, so you can't sue me. I'm just borrowing them
for a bit. But all the original creations are mine, so if you want to use
them, please just ask. Thank you.
Chapter 5: Adjustments
The real surprise of this whole experience was that once I came out of my coma-like sleep, it only took me about two months to fully recuperate. Now, by the standards that I grew up with, that's pretty damn fast. Back home, after having nearly every bone in your body broken and most internal organs near final shutdown, the best a person could usually hope for was either complete or severe paralysis. At worst, you would end up like a vegetable.
Not so here. By Katrian standards, I had actually been a bit slow with my healing. That comes from the fact that we Katrians are among the most regenerative species of Dimension X. We can be injured almost to the point of death, like I was, and still come out with a fully functional body if not a mind.
This is how it works. First you're injured badly, like having a leg blown apart or getting stabbed in the back. After that and a lot of blood loss, you fall into a sort of coma. Kind of like the one I had spent a month stuck in, but almost always without the added curse of weird voices and fever dreams. Now, unlike a coma that a human falls into, this one isn't dangerous and you always wake up from it. When, that all depends on how seriously you were hurt. If it was light, then maybe a few days to a week. If it's severe, then usually a couple of weeks to a month or more.
During this period, or the Lull as it's called, the body heals itself at an accelerated rate. Bones are mended, tissues repaired, muscles and tendons knitted back together, the whole nine yards. What should take months or years to heal is done so in a fraction of the time. And when it's all done, you wake up and it's as if nothing ever happened.
Well, almost. There's always the possibility that there could have been brain damage as well as physical. If there is, then it's pretty certain that the injured will never be the same again. This stems from the fact that the Lull can only heal bodily wounds. It has no power to heal that of the mind. Why this is so, no one knows for certain, especially since the brain is a major part of the body. But that's just how it is and there's no way around it.
All in all though, it's a pretty cool trick if I do say so and one that I can live with, but it does have it's downsides. Besides irreparable brain damage, when stuck in the Lull, a Katrian is vulnerable and unaware of their surroundings. It's the easiest time to kill one of us and if an enemy finds you alone without someone on guard, then you're as good as dead.
As far as most are concerned however, that's just a small price to pay if it means surviving and living to fight another day. That's all that really matters as far as Kale and the others are concerned. The fitter their soldiers are, the better they are in battle and like Katrians, the Lull is a price they're willing to pay as long as there's someone like me to do the fighting.
That's right. I'm now one of the rebel elite, serving directly under Kale himself. I had thought about it a good while when I was recovering and came to the decision that for now, the best place for me to be was among others like myself. At least here I knew that everyone wasn't out to kill me like back in the camps and here, I could maybe make more of a difference. Besides, it's not like I had any place else to go and who knows, maybe I might even find some clue as to how I can get back to Earth again.
At the moment though, that's the least of my problems. Right now, my biggest concern is staying alive. If I can do that, then I'll worry more about the rest.
Right now, a group of us are about a week's journey from Furlough. That's the name of the rebel base that I now call home. It's a series of underground caverns that are located in a swamp on the world of Mire Ra. The planet is a mostly uninhabited maze of bogs and other natural death traps that could make even a full squad of Krang's elite forces cringe. Which is what makes it a perfect place for us to hide out.
Lately though, what offers us a great defense isn't giving us much in the way of other basic needs. Food and medical supplies are scarce on Mire Ra. No, let's face it, except for what we already have, they're practically nonexistent. The vegetation and fauna that also live on that rock are either too poisonous or otherwise for us to bother with. And what little dry land that isn't underground has so much sludge and gunk covering it that it would take decades to make it fit for farming. That's just time we don't have these days.
So we're forced to resort to other methods to support ourselves. We would never stooped to common piracy and rob the few honest merchants and travelers that there are in Dimension X. No, that would make us as low as Krang's people and no one I know wants to be accused of that. But that doesn't mean we're not above stealing from them however, which is what we do.
Like we are now. Our target is Climhazzard, an isolated Stone Warrior base that's on the barren moon of Fenrir. Being way out here in the boondocks, it wouldn't seem like the right spot to get supplies from. Well, as I've learned, things in Dimension X aren't always what they seem. As was the case with Climhazzard.
From a distance, it really doesn't seem like much. Just another one of those outposts that Warlord Krang stations through Dimension X to stake a claim to a patch of space and then forgets. The soldiers in places like that, being stationed out on a more or less deserted frontier, usually don't see that much action. Maybe the occasional raid from refugees or true pirates seeking an easy strike, but that's it. Otherwise, all they have to do all day is drill and sit on their stony rears.
That should have been the deal at Climhazzard too. It fits the same description as others like it; remote location, hardly any skirmishes, nothing of real value, the whole package. It would seem like the least likely place even for a group of our size to worry about. And it's in that that Climhazzard reveals its true colors.
In reality, Climhazzard is the exact opposite of what others believe. It isn't just another lonely outpost left on some moon. It's a major checkpoint station for supply and medical transports for Krang's armies. The remoteness of it allows that few will see the three or four cruisers that come in during the week to refuel before they move onto the fronts where the major action is. No one's ever the wiser, which means they have an easier time moving things around. At least, until Kale and the other superiors got wind of the little scheme and decided that it was the perfect place to start getting our supplies.
Which is why we're here now, getting burnt and blasted at. A special task force, including myself, had been assembled and was ordered to act as a distraction. While we did, another team, led by none other than my less than dashing knight in a black pelt, Zenith, was to infiltrate the place and get as much as they could before we were forced to pull out.
For the moment, we're holding our own, if not very well, and there doesn't seem to be any sign that our second group has been discovered. Which means if I don't get my hopes up too high and thus jinx the whole thing, that we just might be able to pull this off. If we do, then we'll have at least another two weeks that we don't have to rely on the emergency stores back at the base.
That's a good thing as far as I'm concerned and probably everyone else as well. We have a total of 249 people living at Furlough. Most are either in their late teens to early twenties, all beings who have lost their families and homes to the war against Lord Krang. A few are young children, either orphans found by the rebels after an attack or relatives of those who already lived at the base. These, we keep secret even from our allies, since they would be at the greatest risk should we be discovered. They're never allowed to join in battles and are kept under constant guard at Furlough when there's trouble.
The others are older, in their thirties or beyond. A few, like Marl, a Stone Warrior who defected to our side years before I was even born, are elders, 60 or more by human standards. They don't fight as much as the rest of us, but they earn their keep in other ways. Through them we gain advice and battle experience that younger generations haven't earned yet. In a crisis, this makes them invaluable and during times like that, it's when we learn to appreciate age for what it is.
And it was all of these that were depending on us now. They were counting on us, a group of thirty, twenty in our group and ten in Zenith's, to bring back the supplies that we so desperately needed. I hated to think of what could happen to them if we didn't come back and it was the thought of them that helped me to keep going as I ducked and fired at the Warriors.
"Nice shooting, she-kat," said Reno, the Neutrino who had taken up a position next to me," Think you can hold up till Z-man and the others get out of there?"
He was a typical Neutrino youth for the most part. He's about sixteen years of age and very hyper like many Neutrinos are, even in situations like this. He had the same youthful appearance as they all had, as well as the same hard rock clothing style that a lot of teens had taken to these days. His was a mixture of light blue that pretty much complimented his orange-red hair and deep crimson shades.
I had known Reno almost from the start. He was one of the first ones to approach me and introduce himself. During the course of the five months since I officially joined the ranks, we've become good friends and he's one of the few people that actually has a complete respect for who I am, ninja habits and all.
See that's one of the few things my new associates are still finding a little hard to swallow. I have many of what they call 'strange' habits, like my rising early so that I can practice my katas and my evening meditation. No one else that they've heard of has ever done that, especially not a Katrian, and most find it a little too weird to strike up a friendship with me. So with a few exceptions, most normally keep their distance from me on the personal level.
Not that I really care. I've found that when you're in a war like this, it's best not to get too close to those around you. You can never tell when you're going to lose them and I've already lost enough people in my life to know that sometimes it's better to be alone. But that doesn't mean I won't make room for others if they try, like I have with Reno.
"I'll keep it up for as long as I need to, Reno," I grunted, firing over the ridge of the boulder that was providing us with cover," But if they're in there for too long, the rockheads might get wise and double back to their base. We won't be able to do much then and the others will be on their own."
We didn't have much of a chance to talk after that, since a renewed volley of missiles were coming our way. They were increasing now, as the Warriors were bringing in the big guns, literally. Or more precisely, one huge cannon that could easily wipe a group of twenty like us if the aim was just right.
When I saw this, I knew that it was about time for us to leave, with or without the others. It wasn't the nature of rebels to leave their own behind, wounded or otherwise. We need each other to survive and losing even one can be a damaging blow to an entire operation. But at times like this, desperate measures had to be taken for the good of the whole if not for the few.
I shouldn't have bothered even thinking that. At that same instance, which I still think was some perverse trick of timing done by Zenith, there was a blast from within Climhazzard. It caused a wall of smoke to explode from the northernmost wall, followed by a shower of bedrock and soil.
Out of the smoke, appearing like magic, was a supply transport. It lumbered into sight slowly at first but then managed to pick up speed. A few surprised Warriors tried firing shots if they were close enough, but it did little good. In no time at all, the transport was away from Climhazzard and winging its way toward what I knew would be Furlough.
"All right, people. Mission accomplished," bellowed Specter, another Katrian male and the commander of the task force," Everyone pull out."
We did just that, retreating and leaving the Warriors wondering what had just happened to them. Well, if I had thought it would matter, I could have told them easily. With the outside force acting as a diversion, Zenith's team had managed to sneak in after all.
I later learned that they hadn't been discovered until almost the last moment, when a new cadet had come across them taking supplies from a docked transport. They managed to knock him out but not before he had raised the alarm. With the thought of capture breathing down their necks, Zenith was forced to improvise. So instead of just taking a few supplies from the reserves, he took the entire transport they were on. It was a risky tactic, but one that he was willing to take.
Using the transport's own weapons, Zenith ordered a hole blown in the fortress and it was through that that they made their escape. In the process, it provided the rest of us with cover too. Using the smoke and rubble as a diversion, my group withdrew, leaving behind a bunch of very bewildered Stone Warriors. By the time they managed to realize what had happen, we were all long gone and on our way home.
*Author's note: Reno was based on the red-haired Neutrino from the TMNT episode Hot Roddin' Teenagers from Dimension X. I didn't know his real name, so I just gave him one.
Chapter 5: Adjustments
The real surprise of this whole experience was that once I came out of my coma-like sleep, it only took me about two months to fully recuperate. Now, by the standards that I grew up with, that's pretty damn fast. Back home, after having nearly every bone in your body broken and most internal organs near final shutdown, the best a person could usually hope for was either complete or severe paralysis. At worst, you would end up like a vegetable.
Not so here. By Katrian standards, I had actually been a bit slow with my healing. That comes from the fact that we Katrians are among the most regenerative species of Dimension X. We can be injured almost to the point of death, like I was, and still come out with a fully functional body if not a mind.
This is how it works. First you're injured badly, like having a leg blown apart or getting stabbed in the back. After that and a lot of blood loss, you fall into a sort of coma. Kind of like the one I had spent a month stuck in, but almost always without the added curse of weird voices and fever dreams. Now, unlike a coma that a human falls into, this one isn't dangerous and you always wake up from it. When, that all depends on how seriously you were hurt. If it was light, then maybe a few days to a week. If it's severe, then usually a couple of weeks to a month or more.
During this period, or the Lull as it's called, the body heals itself at an accelerated rate. Bones are mended, tissues repaired, muscles and tendons knitted back together, the whole nine yards. What should take months or years to heal is done so in a fraction of the time. And when it's all done, you wake up and it's as if nothing ever happened.
Well, almost. There's always the possibility that there could have been brain damage as well as physical. If there is, then it's pretty certain that the injured will never be the same again. This stems from the fact that the Lull can only heal bodily wounds. It has no power to heal that of the mind. Why this is so, no one knows for certain, especially since the brain is a major part of the body. But that's just how it is and there's no way around it.
All in all though, it's a pretty cool trick if I do say so and one that I can live with, but it does have it's downsides. Besides irreparable brain damage, when stuck in the Lull, a Katrian is vulnerable and unaware of their surroundings. It's the easiest time to kill one of us and if an enemy finds you alone without someone on guard, then you're as good as dead.
As far as most are concerned however, that's just a small price to pay if it means surviving and living to fight another day. That's all that really matters as far as Kale and the others are concerned. The fitter their soldiers are, the better they are in battle and like Katrians, the Lull is a price they're willing to pay as long as there's someone like me to do the fighting.
That's right. I'm now one of the rebel elite, serving directly under Kale himself. I had thought about it a good while when I was recovering and came to the decision that for now, the best place for me to be was among others like myself. At least here I knew that everyone wasn't out to kill me like back in the camps and here, I could maybe make more of a difference. Besides, it's not like I had any place else to go and who knows, maybe I might even find some clue as to how I can get back to Earth again.
At the moment though, that's the least of my problems. Right now, my biggest concern is staying alive. If I can do that, then I'll worry more about the rest.
Right now, a group of us are about a week's journey from Furlough. That's the name of the rebel base that I now call home. It's a series of underground caverns that are located in a swamp on the world of Mire Ra. The planet is a mostly uninhabited maze of bogs and other natural death traps that could make even a full squad of Krang's elite forces cringe. Which is what makes it a perfect place for us to hide out.
Lately though, what offers us a great defense isn't giving us much in the way of other basic needs. Food and medical supplies are scarce on Mire Ra. No, let's face it, except for what we already have, they're practically nonexistent. The vegetation and fauna that also live on that rock are either too poisonous or otherwise for us to bother with. And what little dry land that isn't underground has so much sludge and gunk covering it that it would take decades to make it fit for farming. That's just time we don't have these days.
So we're forced to resort to other methods to support ourselves. We would never stooped to common piracy and rob the few honest merchants and travelers that there are in Dimension X. No, that would make us as low as Krang's people and no one I know wants to be accused of that. But that doesn't mean we're not above stealing from them however, which is what we do.
Like we are now. Our target is Climhazzard, an isolated Stone Warrior base that's on the barren moon of Fenrir. Being way out here in the boondocks, it wouldn't seem like the right spot to get supplies from. Well, as I've learned, things in Dimension X aren't always what they seem. As was the case with Climhazzard.
From a distance, it really doesn't seem like much. Just another one of those outposts that Warlord Krang stations through Dimension X to stake a claim to a patch of space and then forgets. The soldiers in places like that, being stationed out on a more or less deserted frontier, usually don't see that much action. Maybe the occasional raid from refugees or true pirates seeking an easy strike, but that's it. Otherwise, all they have to do all day is drill and sit on their stony rears.
That should have been the deal at Climhazzard too. It fits the same description as others like it; remote location, hardly any skirmishes, nothing of real value, the whole package. It would seem like the least likely place even for a group of our size to worry about. And it's in that that Climhazzard reveals its true colors.
In reality, Climhazzard is the exact opposite of what others believe. It isn't just another lonely outpost left on some moon. It's a major checkpoint station for supply and medical transports for Krang's armies. The remoteness of it allows that few will see the three or four cruisers that come in during the week to refuel before they move onto the fronts where the major action is. No one's ever the wiser, which means they have an easier time moving things around. At least, until Kale and the other superiors got wind of the little scheme and decided that it was the perfect place to start getting our supplies.
Which is why we're here now, getting burnt and blasted at. A special task force, including myself, had been assembled and was ordered to act as a distraction. While we did, another team, led by none other than my less than dashing knight in a black pelt, Zenith, was to infiltrate the place and get as much as they could before we were forced to pull out.
For the moment, we're holding our own, if not very well, and there doesn't seem to be any sign that our second group has been discovered. Which means if I don't get my hopes up too high and thus jinx the whole thing, that we just might be able to pull this off. If we do, then we'll have at least another two weeks that we don't have to rely on the emergency stores back at the base.
That's a good thing as far as I'm concerned and probably everyone else as well. We have a total of 249 people living at Furlough. Most are either in their late teens to early twenties, all beings who have lost their families and homes to the war against Lord Krang. A few are young children, either orphans found by the rebels after an attack or relatives of those who already lived at the base. These, we keep secret even from our allies, since they would be at the greatest risk should we be discovered. They're never allowed to join in battles and are kept under constant guard at Furlough when there's trouble.
The others are older, in their thirties or beyond. A few, like Marl, a Stone Warrior who defected to our side years before I was even born, are elders, 60 or more by human standards. They don't fight as much as the rest of us, but they earn their keep in other ways. Through them we gain advice and battle experience that younger generations haven't earned yet. In a crisis, this makes them invaluable and during times like that, it's when we learn to appreciate age for what it is.
And it was all of these that were depending on us now. They were counting on us, a group of thirty, twenty in our group and ten in Zenith's, to bring back the supplies that we so desperately needed. I hated to think of what could happen to them if we didn't come back and it was the thought of them that helped me to keep going as I ducked and fired at the Warriors.
"Nice shooting, she-kat," said Reno, the Neutrino who had taken up a position next to me," Think you can hold up till Z-man and the others get out of there?"
He was a typical Neutrino youth for the most part. He's about sixteen years of age and very hyper like many Neutrinos are, even in situations like this. He had the same youthful appearance as they all had, as well as the same hard rock clothing style that a lot of teens had taken to these days. His was a mixture of light blue that pretty much complimented his orange-red hair and deep crimson shades.
I had known Reno almost from the start. He was one of the first ones to approach me and introduce himself. During the course of the five months since I officially joined the ranks, we've become good friends and he's one of the few people that actually has a complete respect for who I am, ninja habits and all.
See that's one of the few things my new associates are still finding a little hard to swallow. I have many of what they call 'strange' habits, like my rising early so that I can practice my katas and my evening meditation. No one else that they've heard of has ever done that, especially not a Katrian, and most find it a little too weird to strike up a friendship with me. So with a few exceptions, most normally keep their distance from me on the personal level.
Not that I really care. I've found that when you're in a war like this, it's best not to get too close to those around you. You can never tell when you're going to lose them and I've already lost enough people in my life to know that sometimes it's better to be alone. But that doesn't mean I won't make room for others if they try, like I have with Reno.
"I'll keep it up for as long as I need to, Reno," I grunted, firing over the ridge of the boulder that was providing us with cover," But if they're in there for too long, the rockheads might get wise and double back to their base. We won't be able to do much then and the others will be on their own."
We didn't have much of a chance to talk after that, since a renewed volley of missiles were coming our way. They were increasing now, as the Warriors were bringing in the big guns, literally. Or more precisely, one huge cannon that could easily wipe a group of twenty like us if the aim was just right.
When I saw this, I knew that it was about time for us to leave, with or without the others. It wasn't the nature of rebels to leave their own behind, wounded or otherwise. We need each other to survive and losing even one can be a damaging blow to an entire operation. But at times like this, desperate measures had to be taken for the good of the whole if not for the few.
I shouldn't have bothered even thinking that. At that same instance, which I still think was some perverse trick of timing done by Zenith, there was a blast from within Climhazzard. It caused a wall of smoke to explode from the northernmost wall, followed by a shower of bedrock and soil.
Out of the smoke, appearing like magic, was a supply transport. It lumbered into sight slowly at first but then managed to pick up speed. A few surprised Warriors tried firing shots if they were close enough, but it did little good. In no time at all, the transport was away from Climhazzard and winging its way toward what I knew would be Furlough.
"All right, people. Mission accomplished," bellowed Specter, another Katrian male and the commander of the task force," Everyone pull out."
We did just that, retreating and leaving the Warriors wondering what had just happened to them. Well, if I had thought it would matter, I could have told them easily. With the outside force acting as a diversion, Zenith's team had managed to sneak in after all.
I later learned that they hadn't been discovered until almost the last moment, when a new cadet had come across them taking supplies from a docked transport. They managed to knock him out but not before he had raised the alarm. With the thought of capture breathing down their necks, Zenith was forced to improvise. So instead of just taking a few supplies from the reserves, he took the entire transport they were on. It was a risky tactic, but one that he was willing to take.
Using the transport's own weapons, Zenith ordered a hole blown in the fortress and it was through that that they made their escape. In the process, it provided the rest of us with cover too. Using the smoke and rubble as a diversion, my group withdrew, leaving behind a bunch of very bewildered Stone Warriors. By the time they managed to realize what had happen, we were all long gone and on our way home.
*Author's note: Reno was based on the red-haired Neutrino from the TMNT episode Hot Roddin' Teenagers from Dimension X. I didn't know his real name, so I just gave him one.
