19. The Ventrexian - Part III
Sensation rushed in as the energy bolt Gary had fired continued on its trajectory, straight into the Lord Commander. Stripped of his power, he had no defense and was as mortal as the other beings on the battle deck – and as fragile. The point-blank shot sent him flying back, smashing into the far wall with a strangled cry. Surging to his feet, knowing he didn't dare stop now, Gary ran over to where the Lord Commander had fallen. Dark blood pooled on the floor and the tyrant twitched and gasped, but didn't rise. Gary aimed the hand cannon, and the Lord Commander let out a breath, his face filled with hate as he glared up at Gary, the one who was mightier than he.
No way was he letting this gremlin live another minute. Gary had seen too many sci-fi movies where the bad guy turned out not as dead as everyone thought and came back for a sequel. Not happening. Not today. Little Cato had been right - none of them be safe until this monster was dealt with for good.
"You," hissed the Lord Commander. He tried to stir, to rise, but without Invictus, the Lord Commander was nothing. His face twisted in a snarl.
"Me. Die angry about it, dickwad," said Gary, and shot him again.
He waited, panting, but the Lord Commander didn't move. He was dead.
Finally, finally, the dragon had been slain.
Panic and elation and uncertainty swelled in Gary's chest at the realization. He had no idea of who or what that creature with the horns had been or what the Lord Commander's death meant. Something was over, but a whole lot of something else was starting.
But just to be a bazillion percent sure . . . Gary unleashed, firing his hand cannon until the only thing left was a stinky, meaty pile of steaming flesh. Medium rare. Good riddance from the whole universe.
And then Gary was scrambling to get back to Avocato's side. Suddenly moving and talking were a challenge. He restored his hand and activated the comm unit in his robotic arm, screaming over the channels:
"Tribore! Tribore! This is Gary! You have to get us out of here! Send help! Now! Now!"
He fell to his knees besides Avocato, looking over him and trying to figure out what, if anything, he could do. The elegant black uniform was torn and coated with fine gray powder from the damaged wall. Avocato's face had been raked by a clawed hand, and blood matted his fur and soaked the uniform down to his chest. Yellow eyes were open and empty, and his pupils were dilated. Even Gary's inexpert eye could tell by the angle of Avocato's limbs that a lot of bones were broken. Maybe the seizure was a blessing, if Avocato was unconscious through all this.
"Where are you?" demanded Tribore.
"Still on the ship. In the throne room thing. Avocato's down. I can't - I can't move him. He's - he's -"
He was dying, but Gary couldn't say it aloud. That would make it too real to face. Even as he spoke, Avocato's back arched and he let out an involuntary sound of pain, his clawed hands scratching the deck, his sharp teeth biting at nothing.
A new voice, deep, accented, and oozing authority, broke into the conversation. "Captain Goodspeed, this is General Cataloupe. Is this a Code Black?"
Oh, thank god, he understood and cut straight to the heart of the matter.
"Yes!" Gary cried, desperate to do something. "Yes! Bad!"
"We're en route to you now. Listen carefully. Is he breathing?"
"Barely."
"Is he laying down?"
"Y-yeah. On his back."
Cataloupe's voice was amazingly calm and reassuring in light of Gary's outright panic. "As best you can, you must sit him up, and brace his back. It's easier for him to breathe in this position and he's less likely to choke. Do whatever you can to make sure he keeps breathing."
He remembered Little Cato giving him similar instructions the first time he'd first witnessed the effects of akusan poisoning. Gary let out a sound of horror as he felt bones shift beneath his hands. As gently as he could manage, he positioned himself behind Avocato and lifted the general so he was resting against Gary's chest, his head on Gary's shoulder. He could feel a deep, shuddering tremor going through Avocato's whole body.
"Come on, Cato," he begged. "Keep breathing. Please. Small breaths. I got you. I got you. Just - just hang in there. Please."
"Captain," said Cataloupe, "is the area secure? Is there anyone else there?"
"Yeah - yeah we're good. No one's here but us."
"What of the Lord Commander?"
"Dead," snapped Gary, dismissing the emperor with a wave of his hand, his focus entirely on Avocato.
"You're certain of that?" pressed Cataloupe.
Gary snorted. "Very."
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Cataloupe actually took a step back, his eyes wide with shock at this news. Suddenly weak-kneed, he dropped down into his command chair lest he fall over on the bridge. Was it possible? Had Captain Goodspeed actually succeeded in ending the Lord Commander? Avocato had not been sure he could be killed. Cataloupe looked at the other faction leaders on the call with him, and they all stared back in disbelief except for –
"Oh, I owe that little blond bombshell a drink," Tribore said, breaking the spell. "After. Sounds like Avocato's having a major malfunction."
Giving himself a little shake, Cataloupe said, "All of you continue with the mopping up. Let the Tera Con fleet know the Lord Commander is dead. Captain Airgone, see to that Incinerator trying to make a break for it. Is there any way to get through to E35-1?"
"Sir, we'll be at the Mynn in twelve minutes," said the Sabertooth's helmsman. "She's disintegrating fast. The Hive has destroyed her shields and the outer hull is 60% gone. Atmospheric integrity is down to 53%. There's a heavy debris field around her."
Cataloupe nodded. "Prep the medical shuttle and three escorts. Get Dr. Mogs off the Imbara and heading here immediately."
"Right away, sir."
Tribore looked thoughtful. "Goofeet sent Mooncake off with a SAMES. I can see if it's still with him and pick him up if we can."
"Do so," ordered Cataloupe. "We're almost there. Captain t'Koot, recall the Hi-"
"I'm going in, too! He needs me!"
A new screen popped up before him as Little Cato overrode the comms. For all his self-control, the young prince looked terrified.
Cataloupe had been expecting this call. Captain Goodspeed clearly had no idea, but he'd activated the regular comm frequency, not the command frequency Cataloupe and the other leaders were using. Everyone had heard his call for help, including –
"Colonel Cato! You will remain where you are," Cataloupe replied sternly. "That is an order. Captain t'Koot, recall the Hive."
It was only natural that the prince wanted to be with his guardian at this moment. So long removed from medical aid, Avocato was probably dying, and they both knew it. The battle wasn't over, the Mynn was still in Tera Con hands, and the distance between the locations was unsecured. What was more, there was nothing Little Cato could do to help Avocato right now.
"General, I respectfully disagre-"
"You will remain where you are," he repeated, not about to argue. By tone of voice alone, Cataloupe ended the issue. He looked to the Zintabo leader and deliberately reminded Little Cato of his rank. "Captain Cree'took, see to the colonel. His ship is to remain with your fleet. I'll inform you when you can join us, Colonel Cato. Is that understood?"
Little Cato looked stricken, but he knew what Avocato would have wanted, what he would have said when faced by a direct order. There was a reason Cataloupe was in charge. He could make the emotional calls with a clear head.
"Yes, sir," he said in a small voice.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Unaware of any drama outside of the desperate struggle he now faced, Gary held onto Avocato and kept up his litany of encouragement. The general was deadweight in his arms, occasionally punctuated by an involuntary stiffening or sharp motion which made holding him steady a challenge. Gary didn't dare try to straighten his limbs, though fortunately the wounds on his face had mostly stopped bleeding.
"Stay with me, Avocato." He could not speak above a whisper, and he had no idea if Avocato could hear him. "Come on. Small breath. Breathe in. Close enough. I'll take it. Now another. That's it, pal. I got you. I won't leave you. I won't . . . ever leave you. Promise. Another breath. I know it's hard. But you can't let that animated pile of turds win. Not now. Not when we won. He's gone, Cato. That cannon you gave me did the trick."
Avocato twitched, astonishingly powerful despite his condition. Gary braced him, then carried on his rambling assurances.
"You've got to hang on. Help is on the way. That Cantaloupe guy is on his way. Little Cato is probably crawling the walls to see you, to tell you about the battle. You did such a good job raising that kid. He's just . . . straight-up cool. He'll make one hell of a good king. He cares. He cares so much. About you. About doing what's right for Ventrexia. About fixing what his parents broke. You gotta stay with me. Stay with him. We both need you. So much, Avocato. Breathe. That's it. Come on, pal. Do it again. A little deep-"
Avocato choked, a hideous rasping sound escaping his throat.
"Cato!"
Not knowing what else to do, Gary whacked him on the back, hoping he didn't cause more damage. It seemed to do the trick, however, and Avocato's breathing settled down to short, labored pants. Gary wasn't sure if this was an improvement, but at least the general was still breathing.
"Okay, that's scary. Don't do it again," he ordered, settling Avocato against his chest again. He gently cradled that fuzzy head, mindful of the scrapes. "Great uniform choice, by the way. I mean, Shazam, you wear it well. Have I mentioned how much I love teal? New favorite color here in the Land of Goodspeed. It really brings out the yellow in your eyes."
He looked up at an unfamiliar sound, like something metallic hitting the deck. The ship was trashed and now, apparently, falling apart around them.
"Okay, Cantaloupe," he softly sang. "Any time now." To Avocato he said, "Crappy ship is for crap, by the way. Kudos to you for having high maintenance standards because one battle and the Lord Commode's favorite toy is a floating junk heap. What a surprise," he added, the very picture of sarcasm.
Avocato twinged, shivering. Gary stroked the soft fur behind Avocato's ear, down to his neck, over and over, giving and taking comfort.
"I got you. Don't leave me. Don't leave me, Avocato. I don't ever want to be alone again. I got way too much alone time on the Galaxy 1 and on Tera Con Prime. It sucks, especially now after meeting Spidercat and you. And I think you're lonely, too, even though you've got some way cool people around you. I think, maybe, we each have something the other needs. At least, I know I need you. I . . . I hope you need me, even just a little. I had that for a bit with Mooncake and then Little Cato. It's a good feeling. But you must know it. Everyone needs you."
Something crashed down, probably over in the private docking bay if he could judge by the echo. Gary glanced around them nervously as he became aware of a hissing noise. While he might not know much, anyone who spent more than a day out in space knew that hissing equaled bad. Very bad, in fact. Like, your breathable atmosphere is escaping on you bad.
He went to key his comm unit, but it was on. Wait – on? Had it been on this whole time? Oh, crap. Had he just treated the whole fleet to . . . oh, crap.
Well, now all of creation knew about Gary Goodspeed's immense crush on General Avocato. Just dandy. Well, screw it all. No one had ever died of embarrassment, they just wished they would.
The pitch of the hiss changed, and the room was getting colder. Gary shoved aside his emotional reactions and got to business.
"G-General Cantaloupe? You there?" Gary called.
"Yes, Captain," said the crisp, professional voice. Cataloupe's image appeared over Gary's wrist. He looked so broad and robust next to Avocato's sleek wiriness.
"We're losing atmosphere. How far out are you?"
"We'll be launching shuttles inside the minute, Captain, and will be there in ten. Avocato's uniform is rated for space. I suggest you activate your helmets now."
Ten – no, eleven minutes. They'd be the longest minutes of Gary's life. He wouldn't be able to see or do much for Avocato if he stopped breathing in the helmet.
"Hurry," he begged. "Please. He's . . . he's . . ."
He couldn't speak the truth out loud.
"Understood," was the sympathetic reply.
Shifting slightly, Gary looked for the manual control for Avocato's helmet. He found it in the top button on the uniform coat's high collar, and leaned out of the way as the helmet activated. A black Ventrexian-style helmet enveloped Avocato's head, while smooth gloves encased his hands and his tail was covered in the same material, and the high boots sealed to his trousers. Gary grimaced, then settled Avocato against his chest again before keying his own helmet. Instantly everything smelled like socks. Just like the good old days on the Galaxy 1. What was it with Infinity Guard helmets? Ugh.
Gary set the timer in the helmet's display to count down ten minutes, then gently clasped Avocato's hand in his own and silently counted each slow, labored breath.
"I know you're tired. You've been going full throttle for years. A little longer, pal, and then you can rest. Breathe in. Cato. Cato, come on! Breathe! Hey! Avocato!"
He gave Avocato a shake, trying to jolt him into a steady rhythm. A little shudder ran through the general, but he finally took a shallow breath. Gary let out his own breath that he'd been holding.
"Bro, I'm gonna age ten years in ten minutes," he swore.
He fell silent as the seconds dragged by. Nine minutes . . . at eight, he felt Avocato's hand weakly close around his fingers. He could not help but smile at the tiny gesture that meant everything to him.
"Right here, amigo," promised Gary. "I got you."
At seven minutes, Gary's hand was suddenly crushed as a fresh round of seizures began. Avocato stiffened, his helmet smacking hard into Gary's as his head snapped back and a god-awful scream ripped from his throat. Through two layers of space helmets and a thinning atmosphere, Gary could hear the pained cry. He struggled to keep Avocato upright, not knowing what else to do and afraid of hurting him further. Despite broken bones and injuries, the general thrashed and fought Gary's hold. The seizure seemed to go on forever, but when Gary glanced at the readout, little more than a minute had passed.
Finally, calm returned, if only for a moment. It seemed unreal. Exhausted, winded, Gary did his best to straighten Avocato's limbs. The general had to be in a spectacular amount of pain. A few more twitches, and then Avocato's weight leaned against Gary's chest fully as if all strength had been drained out of him. Another breath or two, and Avocato slowly stilled.
Too still. Gary waited, ready to count another breath that wasn't coming.