Notes: This is where you will start to see a little bit of shift in the plot. The next few chapters are heavy on exposition, plot, character building, and other things you can probably guess the direction of, so it'll be a little while before the action resumes. Until then, two castaways on a distant planet take time to recuperate from their injuries and learn more about each other in the process...
Chapter 10: Respite
The next thing I was aware of was cold, hard dirt beneath me and my stomach angrily protesting the nauseating side effects of the Warpstone's abilities. My insides burned in pain as I threw up the remains of the Dumbledang pod then dry heaved several times; it took me a few moments of gasping and sputtering before I could regain enough conscious thought to observe my surroundings. The darkness was settling in but we were in a wooded area, just on the edge of a clearing where a large hulking shape rested. The glint of dying sunlight on metal revealed the outline of some sort of spaceship.
Krystal had recovered first. I could somewhat tell a queasy expression on her face, but the pain from her broken arm was winning out. She managed to help me into a standing position; a concerned tone to her words as I managed to get to my feet. "This is the second... time you've had that reaction. Warping really disagrees... with you?" I felt her hand on my back guiding me forward; I stumbled a couple of times but somehow managed to regain my footing.
"You got that right." I croaked, noting we were heading toward the ship. It was painted a shade of dark blue; it would quickly be indistinguishable in the dark. It looked a little larger than my house, if I didn't count the stubby wings and the cockpit that jutted out from the bodywork. It looked to be armed with a couple of laser cannons slung under the wings; at least we would be able to fight if it came down to that. "That won't be good if I'm flopping around like a fish if we warp into a bunch of Sharpclaw. I'm a little worried about that." Not to mention the stomach cramps and the sharp pain across my side where I had been injured by that burrowing snake-thing. My hand went down to the bandage job; it felt wet and slightly tacky. Either that Dumbledang pod's effects were temporary or I had overdone it, I wasn't sure.
Krystal's response carried over while I was inspecting my newly opened wounds. "Warping is somewhat common on Cerinia, but some... don't take to it very well. Effects such as yours aren't unknown. If you aren't... able to acclimate to it, do not Warp without me." She paused in her tracks; I could hear her sniffing the air. "You're bleeding... badly enough I can smell it. We need to... get your wounds seen to."
"Yours, too." I shot back. We had reached the ship; the dormant vessel somehow detecting her presence when we closed within twenty yards. The running lights faded into being; two soft spotlights illuminating what looked like a cargo hatch at the rear. I stood still as she walked forward to interact with a nearby keypad. Taking a moment to look down, I bit back a curse as I saw the bandage job. It was soaked. My jeans looked like they belonged on a trauma patient; which would have been a wise destination had the nearest trauma center not been a literally astronomical distance away. I wasn't quite sure if my ears had always been ringing but they were at that moment; right in line with a headache that never quite subsided. I was suddenly very glad I had brought a couple of sets of extra clothes in my backpack; I barely had time to put on a shirt. So much for looking decent. Krystal's comment about smelling my blood brought an uneasy, vulnerable feeling over me. My hand found the stock of the AR15 that was slung over my shoulder; acutely aware of the spare magazine I had stuck into my back pocket.
"I don't sense... any hostile presence nearby, Adam. Do not worry." The Cerinian's calm yet pained voice carried over as she finished punching a sequence into the keypad. Her reassurance was welcome; I was however a little perturbed at how easily she had been able to read me. The whining of hydraulics was startling in the near-silence of the alien forest, but it heralded a flood of clean light as a ramp extended from what looked like a cargo bay and storage area in the belly of the ship. She wasn't wrong; it could have passed as a decently-sized garage or small auto shop. She motioned for me to follow.
The interior of the craft was, well, cozy to put it mildly. The cargo bay was separated by a bulkhead, beyond which was a small storeroom filled with various sturdy plastic crates, as well as a door labeled in some sort of language I couldn't make heads or tails of. A small staircase led upwards, and I gently guided her into the living quarters of the craft. That was also quite cramped and reminded me of the studio apartment I shared with my dad when I was a kid. There was a small semblance of a living room blended with a bedroom and a kitchen area, beyond which a closed door probably signified a bathroom. The couch off to the left of the entrance looked rather unused; it would be a better sleeping surface than nothing but I could tell that it looked marginally more comfortable than a slab of concrete. The kitchen was small and despite the high-tech appliances that would probably stump me for a few days looked pretty well stocked. Another adjacent staircase was labeled in that same language with an arrow pointing up; I assumed that was in Cerinian. The centerpiece of the cramped stateroom was the view; big picture windows on each side would be host to a spectacular view had nightfall not ruined it.
The décor was rather incongruent and I quickly inferred that Krystal's personal effects amounted to some clothing, a few books and a jewel-encrusted frame of glass that sat on the nightstand. The rest of the fittings definitely didn't belong to her, complete with models of military vehicles on a secured shelf and what looked like service awards on a couple of the walls. The vibe of the place was pretty familiar; I could tell a bachelor pad when I saw one. I heard the faint whine of hydraulics behind me; I slumped against the wall in a visible show of relief. I was exhausted and I could tell the effects of blood loss were getting to me.
My thoughts were jarred back into place by Krystal's strained voice. "The medical kit is in that... storage cupboard by the bed. Could you bring that over... here?" She motioned with her good arm to a small booth next to the kitchen; an eating area with space for two. She made her way for the booth while I opened up the indicated cabinet, setting my rifle down next to it. I wasn't familiar with the symbol on it, but the kit was about the size of a small hard-shell suitcase. I slid onto the bench across from her and fiddled with the case until it opened. Frankly, the medical kit looked like a combination first aid kit, tablet PC, and a few other devices whose function was completely lost on me.
Krystal noted my confused look and gave me a soft yet pained smile. She picked up the tablet and managed to fire it up with one hand, making a few selections on the touchscreen. "This is the primary diagnostic link. It'll make a preliminary... scan in a moment, and should tell us what is going on. It will scan... you first, then me." It hummed for a moment, after which she turned the device towards herself. Diagnostic information of some sort flashed across the screen as it hummed again, then beeped to apparently signal it had finished. She pointed to the information, which was printed in the same gibberish I couldn't decipher.
The vixen frowned as she looked at the readout, taking a practiced glance at the details. "You're bleeding pretty badly from... your lacerations, and have a moderate concussion." Her expression was one of concern as she studied the device further. "Your eardrums are healing, though you... will probably experience some permanent hearing loss due to my actions." She frowned; a guilty sigh offered to the still air between us. "I'm sorry."
"Don't." I replied. "If you hadn't done that I would be dead by now. It's not like this is the first time this has happened to me." She blinked as her good hand gathered a couple of syringes and a roll of gauze from the table. She had a curious yet expectant look as she nodded to me, and I took that as a cue to explain. "Well, when I was a lot younger I spent a week with an uncle of mine who lived out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't much to do there, but he basically gave me unfettered access to his gun safe with the expectation that I knew how to shoot safely. My experiment with wondering what guns sounded like without hearing protection didn't end too well. Chalk that up to being a young, dumb teenager."
That got a genuine laugh out of her, which stopped with a wince as she tweaked her arm. "Ow! I'm sorry; I really shouldn't... have laughed about that. It sounds like something... I would have done. I was always getting into trouble with my older brother... figuring out the various functions on our staves. We, well..." She paused for a moment, the insides of her ears flaring up in a deep blush. "We accidentally burned down my... mother's gardening shed whilst practicing with our fire blasters."
I couldn't help but grin. "That can't have ended well." If it was possible to blush even deeper she would have, her sheepish grin almost matching mine.
"I wish I could say it had, but it ended... with my brother and I having to rebuild her shed by hand and replace everything inside. It took us an entire summer to do so." Her sheepish grin turned into a wistful smile as she somehow dismantled one of the medical implements, revealing a fairly large, nasty looking syringe filled with what looked like JB Weld. There wasn't a needle attached to it; I wasn't looking forward to getting stuck with that thing anyway. "You're in more critical need than... I am." She gestured to the couch before gathering the syringe and gauze in her good hand. "Could I have you lie down there?"
I shot her a confused look but turned around, stretching out on the couch. My side wasn't happy with the movement, sending a burning sensation up my ribcage. I winced; the vixen's expression growing worried. "Just tweaked something." I hissed. "What're you planning on doing?"
"This nanite solution can be used to... bind deep cuts and lacerations until they heal." She set the syringe and gauze next to me before wrapping her hand around mine; she gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The sudden affection was confusing to me; I still wasn't sure what had changed and why. "I'm going to take off your bandages and work... the solution into your wounds." The idle thought that she was using the contact to somehow help her focus through her own pain was one suggestion. I remained as still as possible as she removed the soaked bandages. I got a quick look at the torn flesh and winced; a bloody ragged valley was gouged into my right side. That was before she deftly handled the syringe and squirted the dark gray contents into me. It was freezing cold at first, building up to a warm tingling and finally numbness as the contents were emptied.
The young Cerinian took great care in her work, gently using her hand to mold the goop into my injury. The whole experience was almost otherworldly; it was as if she avoided any possible discomfort before I even felt it; she was somehow treating me more gently than I could have done it myself. I couldn't fathom how she was able to keep up that level of concentration while experiencing excruciating pain. The thought occurred to me that she was using her abilities; her tired smile and nod an answer to that unspoken question. I whispered a quiet "Thank you" to her as she wrapped gauze around my injury, to which she responded with a sheepish smile and a faint blush. The process was awkward but with my help it was completed. I was slightly confused by the somewhat frequent brushes of her hand against mine or a lingering touch where it wasn't particularly necessary, but I kept that to myself.
After a moment I sat up, the burning having faded to nothingness. Not the artificial numbness I had expected with anesthetic, but I literally felt nothing from the wound other than the tightness of the bandages. Krystal sat back on the floor, her expression flooding with pain as her broken arm brushed against the carpet. "The nanite patch will absorb... into your body as you heal. Maybe three... days?" She took a few moments to rest on the floor, after which I helped her stand up. She took a step back, her hand once again seeking mine. When she spoke there was a hint of hesitation and embarrassment. "I know this will be... awkward, but could you help me with... something?"
"I don't see why not." I blinked at her. "Why would this be awkward, though?" Her expression became sheepish once more as she motioned to me. I raised an eyebrow at her, giving the vixen a quizzical look which quickly disappeared as she explained.
"I can't deliver the local nanite injection... through this flightsuit and I can't really undress myself with a broken arm." Her deep blush reaffirmed itself as I stood there processing that information. "I need you to help undress me, and to inject the nanite solution in the right spot."
My eyes widened at her request. Did I hear her correctly? It made sense, but... "You're putting a lot of trust in someone you barely know. I understand this is necessary, but awkward doesn't even scratch the surface here. Are you sure you're comfortable with me doing this?"
The vixen nodded, her hand wrapping around one of mine as to assure me of her consent. "Yes." Her emerald eyes met mine, still fixing me with her sheepish grin and blushing ears. "I'm certain you don't mean... me any harm, besides your bad jokes and entertainment references from... your home planet." That elicited a laugh from me.
I reached my free hand up to her collar, noticing the zipper that ran down the front of her flightsuit. I grasped it and gave it a slight tug, my expression mirroring hers as I quipped. "I don't mean to be blushing like a bashful teenager here, but this sort of thing generally only happens after dinner, a movie, and maybe a couple too many drinks."
She laughed in response; a light, airy sound to punctuate my embarrassment, yet I was acutely aware of the fact she hadn't let go of my hand as I started to slide the zipper down; making sure I kept as respectful a distance as I could considering the circumstances as I reached its stopping point of a little farther south than I really wanted my hand to be. "Perhaps it's not too late to... extend the invitation?" Her eyes met mine again, her sheepish expression transforming into an impish, playful smile for a split second. Did Krystal just hit on... no. Even if she did, this wasn't a can of worms I wanted to open. Especially right now. I disengaged my hand from hers, noting a surprised blink as I did so. She seemed to understand as I started tugging on her collar.
"Not like I can give you many options for dinner, unless you like canned pasta or ramen noodles. My movie selection is pretty dismal, but I might have some on my tablet as long as its battery lasts." I was continuing my banter mainly as a means of distracting myself as I started gingerly tugging the flightsuit from her shoulders. "Drinks, on the other hand, I've got a decent stock... of..." I had made a quick glance down to make sure I wasn't about to jostle her broken arm and made the distinct discovery that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the flightsuit. I had expected her to at least be wearing one of my T-shirts. I quickly glanced upwards, my cheeks flushing red hot. "Yeah. This is awkward. God, I feel like a letch."
I was greeted with the unexpected act of Krystal leaning forward, nosing against my cheek. I just about jumped out of my skin, yet her voice was still surprisingly calm despite the pain and awkwardness I knew she was feeling. "It's okay. I understand... this isn't something you're very comfortable... with, but I think I will take... you up on the food after... this is over." She took a deep breath. "Just be gentle with... my arm?"
"I'll try my best, but I think this is going to hurt either way." I inwardly cringed as I slid the flightsuit off her shoulders; a muffled yelp and a wince causing me to cringe. I tried my best not to look down as I started exposing more of her cerulean and alabaster fur to my sight, yet I had to make sure I wasn't hurting her more than I absolutely had to. This was far from the first time I had undressed a lady, yet the circumstances couldn't have been any more different.
I had to gently tug on her injured arm to release it from the suit's integrated glove, Krystal helping me by wiggling her other arm free as best she could; a stifled whimper of pain caused a spike of guilt to stab at my heart. A simple check showed me that her right arm was significantly swollen beneath her fur; the white pattern of the tribal markings encircling her bicep somewhat distorted because of it. My mind couldn't help but at least steal a quick glance here and there. Even by human standards she was gorgeous; her build toned and athletic yet not overly so. I was thoroughly embarrassed; I was trying to force myself to be clinical and disinterested and it wasn't particularly working.
I nearly jumped again as her hand found mine; the soft texture of her fur caressing my palm a not unwelcome change from the flightsuit's gloves. I returned my gaze to her features, noticing a soft smile appearing on her otherwise pained expression. "I told... you it's okay. You're not... doing a very good job at hiding your... physical attraction to me, anyway."
"You got me." I sighed, keeping my gaze locked onto hers. "Despite the fact you're a Cerinian and I'm human, I'd say there's a fair chunk of my people that would find you very attractive and I... well, I would be included in that number." I took a moment to locate the other syringe she had procured as well as a sling; I would need those momentarily. "At the same time, you can trust me to not act on those impulses." The young vixen offered me a questioning look, but I shook my head. I wasn't about to segue into that kind of conversation, so I headed it up with a non-sequitur instead. "Where do you need me to inject this?"
Krystal paused hesitantly, but placed her finger right on her bicep. "There." Her tone was clipped and terse; whether it was anticipating the pain or a reaction to my admittedly cold response I wasn't quite sure. I guided the syringe to her arm; her free hand gripping mine quite tightly. With tears brimming her eyes she nodded; I pushed the needle in. She yelped; stiffening as her hand squeezed almost to the point of causing pain. I grit my teeth and started injecting the stuff, trying my best to act as a physical outlet for her. She didn't hit me, but she did a damn good job at cracking my knuckles before the syringe was emptied of the silvery-gray goop.
I didn't waste time guiding her onto the couch and helping her arm into the sling; she looked ready to pass out. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, her shaky voice barely breaking above a whisper. "You did well. Thank you. I might..." She left the sentence unfinished as unconsciousness took her. I slumped back onto the floor shortly afterward, staring up at the featureless beige paneling of the ceiling. I was exhausted but I was still wired. I wanted to get dressed. I also wanted a shower, but that was probably not a great idea with my recent patch job. I was once again made aware of my stinging calf; I'd have to take care of that as well.
After making sure Krystal wasn't about to fall off the couch I snagged my backpack and made my way into what I assumed was the bathroom. A small tub was tucked to one side as well as what was obviously a toilet and a sink; everything was done up in a sleek-looking black marble material. Small holographic displays hovered over each of the fixtures; it took a bit of poking around but I managed to figure out how they worked. I'd take that small victory. Glancing in the mirror caused me to wince; the face that stared back at me looked as ragged as I felt. My blue-gray eyes were a little glassy, and I noticed trails of dried blood leading down my cheeks. I had a healthy growth of stubble going on; while I rocked the Don Johnson style from time to time I thought I looked like hell warmed over. One short fishing expedition later I had pulled out some spare clothes, toiletries, and a much more mundane first aid kit.
Half an hour later I looked much better, even if I still felt like I had been hit by a bus. I had patched up and liberally disinfected the slash on the back of my calf, shaved, and washed my hair in the sink in order to preserve the bandage jobs I had undertaken. I had also dressed in a pair of black slacks and a dress shirt. I looked like I was about to head into the office, but it also helped me connect and refocus on what was important: finding a way back home. The only thing that broke the illusion was the holster sitting on my right hip, filled with my pilfered Glock. Figuring that this was as good as my appearance was going to get, I left the bathroom.
Krystal was still passed out on the couch and I didn't wish to disturb her; I figured she needed the rest anyway. A flash of something off to my left drew my attention; the glass pane on the nightstand had done something. Frowning, I reached out to the object and picked it up; what was it? It didn't take long to figure out. It was a picture frame of some sort, much like those digital ones many of my coworkers had on their desks. There was a major difference, however; the whole image was in perfect 3D. The landscape that was depicted was beautiful; reminiscent of pictures I had seen from the Pacific Northwest. The only difference was the city that was framed so perfectly in the landscape. High walls of beige stone fenced in a multitude of buildings which wouldn't have looked out of place in medieval European villages. A brace of hauntingly beautiful, crystalline aqua spires broke the illusion. Was this Cerinia? I suspected it was.
A moment later the scene changed to a large house near one of those beige stone walls; I figured it was taken inside the same city. The house was large enough to feature a semi-enclosed courtyard; several Cerinians were standing there. The details were so vivid I could almost reach out to touch them. They were more modestly dressed than Krystal was; mostly in flowing robes or variants of tunics and pants. I couldn't quite tell if she was in this picture, though there were a few incredibly beautiful vixens in the lineup. They all looked peaceful and happy, and I could make out what could have been her parents in the center of the photo. The male of the two was caught making a loving expression to the female; a gesture which caused a feeling of sadness to well up inside. I recalled my stepdad giving that same look to my mom; I idly wondered how they were taking my disappearance. Did they believe I was dead? What about my coworkers? Friends? That was a sobering thought, and one I didn't want to be blindsided by.
The scene changed again; this one of a male Cerinian. He looked younger; clad in a set of emerald shirt and pants that didn't do too much to hide a lithe, swimmer's physique. He was smiling at the camera, hand outstretched to it. His fur color was slightly lighter than Krystal's, which gave me the impression that he wasn't related to her. His eyes were stone gray with a hint of blue; with puzzlement I noticed they were similar to mine in color. I wasn't really one to call another guy attractive, but I had to admit he definitely fit that bill. Who was he?
The next scene in the sequence answered that question. The man in the previous picture had his arms around a shorter vixen clad in a seafoam-green dress. The vixen's arms were likewise wrapped around him; her lips pressed to his in a deep, soulful kiss. An older male stood next to them in very ornate robes; he was grinning widely. So was the collection of Cerinians around the happy couple; including the ones I figured were Krystal's parents. It took me a second to realize the vixen was Krystal; the realization this was a wedding photo struck me a moment later. She was married? I let a few other images flash across the screen, including some other family members and a group photo which was comprised of herself, her husband, and several younger Cerinians I figured were their friends. I felt a little guilty for breaching her privacy, but those photos brought up a few more questions.
This hadn't been mentioned in the games; it had been implied that Fox was her first relationship. She was also stated to be only 19; if that was the case she hadn't been married long. Taking that into account, why was she alone? Why hadn't this guy traveled here with her? If she was married, what was with her affection towards me? I couldn't answer those questions; frankly just looking at this photo album felt like a major breach of her trust. With a sigh I set the frame back on the nightstand and pulled a blanket off the bed. I'm not sure what came over me, but I ended up draping it over the half-dressed vixen on the couch. She stirred slightly and murmured; thankfully I didn't awaken her.
I made my way to the dining nook; fishing a few items out of my backpack after settling in. A set of controls allowed a partition to seal it off from the rest of the living room, which provided a comforting and relaxing sense of privacy. I had a perfect view outside; the starlight shone on the forest around the craft in an amazing display. I had a lot to think about and some needs to tend to. I popped the top off a cold can of Spaghetti-Os and dug in with a spoon I had taken from my kitchen. It wasn't an ideal meal, but I wasn't about to awake the sleeping vixen a few feet away to show me how to work the space microwave.
I washed it down with a richly deserved Coke and fired up my iPad. I would have preferred to have one of my laptops on hand, but both had drained their batteries. In contrast I had a couple of external batteries that would serve the tablet through a few recharges; perhaps if I was lucky enough I'd figure out how to charge my equipment in the ship. Either way I fired up some music; queuing up a trip hop playlist I had made as a relaxation mix. I also brought up some reading material. Shaking the sense of irony out of my head, I was soon absorbed into a fan tale of the unlikely duo of Adam Jensen and Garrus Vakarian chasing shadowy conspiracies.
The final component of my relaxation came with the bottle I had set on the table, complete with a small glass. The bottle of single-malt Japanese whiskey was as expensive as it was hard to find, but it was the smoothest I'd ever tasted. There was a part of me that questioned the act of drinking hard liquor in such a situation, but I figured I'd earned it. I savored that smoky, peaty burn as I continued to read and listen to the music; the dulcet tones of Groove Armada's Hands of Time acting to my ears in the same fashion the Yamazaki 12 was the rest of my senses. I started drifting off to a state of being heavily buzzed, relaxed, and engrossed in something that wasn't related to my current situation.
I was distracted to the point where I didn't notice the partition opening until Krystal slid into the seat opposite mine; a small plate of what looked like noodles in her hand. "Adam?" Her voice was soft yet concerned. I lazily looked up at her, raising the start of my third glass to my lips. She had been awake long enough to somehow change out of that flightsuit; she was dressed in a nightgown of a similar shade as the dress she had worn in that wedding picture. I idly realized that it was likely the only thing she could have slipped around her injured arm. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." I wasn't really paying attention to anything in particular, other than my idle thoughts and the understanding that I was well on my way to a blissful state of insobriety. I offered the glass to her, not quite conscious of what I was doing. "I needed to chill for a while. I don't think you'd like this, but you're welcome to some of it if you want."
To her credit she took the glass of whiskey. She sniffed at it, her nose wrinkling before taking an experimental sip. Her eyes widened before passing the glass back to me. "That is quite strong. My father would have appreciated your tastes; I'd prefer something else." I nodded at her before mirroring her sip; this was a beverage to be appreciated and savored instead of guzzled.
"I've got a bottle of mead in my backpack if you feel like it. Might be more your speed." I waved towards it, not quite taking my attention off the tablet. The irony wasn't lost on me. I was engrossed in a story as fantastic as the situation I was currently living. It was surreal; between that and the alcohol I felt disconnected. Somewhere in the back of my mind floated the realization that cold, hard reality would be clobbering me soon enough. But not now. I had a few moments where I could just sit here and forget, and forgetting sounded like the only way I was going to maintain my composure.
Krystal surprised me by reaching into my backpack and withdrawing the other bottle I had set inside, though she made no designs to open it yet. She started on her meal as I continued to read and drink. I wasn't intentionally trying to ignore her, yet the sheer weight of the past day or so was something I just wanted to forget about.
Eventually I was brought back to reality by her voice. It was hesitant, yet lacking the pained quality from earlier. "You don't seem okay. Please, talk to me?" I looked up to catch her gaze, noticing an undertone of sadness in her eyes. That look was disconcerting, even to my buzzed, disassociated ass.
I didn't respond at first, other than to drain most of the remaining whiskey in a single gulp. "You realize I don't want to be here, right?" Krystal remained silent, so I continued. "I want to be home. I want to wake up tomorrow, walk into the office for a day of meetings and keeping servers stitched together with bubblegum and baling wire. I want to get off work, go over to my folks' house and catch up with my mom before going home to watch some YouTube videos then enjoy some grilled salmon and a beer before going to bed and doing it all over again. I don't want this. I want my mindnumbing life back."
She opened her mouth to respond; I interrupted her. "I'm not some goddamn hero with years of combat experience, an altruistic streak the size of Texas and a physique that makes Greek gods quiver with delight. I'm a pissed off, overweight, thirty-something sysad with plenty of salt to throw around and a gun to back it up with. I might have screwed up big somewhere down the line, but that mindnumbing life is mine, and I want it back. Does that answer your question?" I finished by freshening my drink.
The young Cerinian remained silent. After a moment she reached for the bottle of mead she had pulled out and deftly opened it with her one good hand; she had a tentative sniff of the contents before sipping at it. Apparently it agreed with her as she took a healthy swig. "Would it surprise you to learn that I also don't want to be here? That my only wish is to be home, like you?" She turned away for a moment and I could see her fighting back tears. She failed, her slight frame hitching in a sob before turning back to me; voice cracking with sorrow. "I have been alone for over a cycle, Adam; drifting in this damned ship. The reason I'm here is that I have lost everyone that mattered to me. My family was murdered; so were many of my friends. Jalner, my mate of six cycles, died saving me. Even then I was grievously wounded and nearly died along with them. I alone am left to avenge their deaths; vengeance which I am supposed to pay for with my life." She picked up the mead once more and took a healthy gulp.
"Jesus." I exclaimed. That didn't sound like the timeline of the games. Something didn't feel right, and that wasn't just my buzz talking. "I don't want to bring up anything bad, but what happened?"
Tears freely streamed down Krystal's cheeks, her eyes fixing onto mine. "Lylatian bandits. Pirates. They came down at night, in many different ships. We were taken by surprise and nearly powerless to stop them. They were here for our wealth; our silver and jewels, our artwork, and powerful artifacts they could use as weapons. They took many of us as slaves to sell; anyone who resisted was killed... or worse." She shut her eyes and openly wept. I wasn't sure what to do, other than look on in shock. "As I lay wounded next to my dying mate, one of them forced himself on my sister, Kiara. She fought back, and he killed her." A mental image flashed in my head; one I didn't want to see. One of the young Cerinian vixens I noticed in the photos was lying on the cold, hard ground as those Old World buildings burned around her. Her dress was shredded and hiked up over her waist; a dirty brown canine figure in scarred ceramic armor looming over her torn body. His hand was around her throat, and I could feel my heart sink as the vixen's struggles weakened then ceased. The look of terror in her aqua eyes faded along with her life.
I bolted upright in shock, blinking away the afterimage. "Fucking hell, Krystal. How did you survive that?" She didn't respond; she was too busy sobbing. It was then I felt like a grade A douchecanoe. It was a hollow comfort, but I placed a hand on her shoulder. Moments passed before she opened her eyes, her gaze silent and pleading through the tears which soaked into her fur.
"We captured this vessel before its occupant could flee. He would not answer our questions or atone for the deeds of those he commanded. The Guardians and Priests decided to force their way into his mind. That is a grave crime for our people to commit, yet it had been determined that it was the only way to stop another attack like this from occurring." She took a deep breath before continuing, opting to steel herself with another draught of mead. "I was brought before the High Priest to answer charges I had disobeyed a direct order to help in the defense of the city treasury. I was tasked with the 'honor' of receiving the pilot's information and abilities." She practically spat the last part; her voice full of venom. "This is my punishment for staying to protect my family; our house was near one of the first ships the bandits landed. I couldn't answer the call while my family was under attack. If I hadn't, we all would have died. They... they held us responsible for the losses they incurred; they sent my family to the Outlands after taking our family home as reparations. I was tasked with taking this shuttle and bringing the pirates to justice."
I balked, taking my hand from her shoulder. Surprisingly she took a hold of it; the soft fur encircling my palm a deceptive cover for the angry strength held within her grip, anger which I could tell wasn't directed at me. "I didn't know." My answer was succinct. "This wasn't something mentioned in the games. Yet, sending you out here alone in a shuttle believing you could take on a force of pirates and either kill or capture them sounds farfetched. Why didn't they send several of you?"
The vixen paused for a moment, blinking away her tears. "They said I was bound by honor to atone for the dereliction of my duty. And in a way they are right. I am a Guardian; one who was taught the art of war and the code of assisting and defending those in need. Yet, I... failed." She paused for a moment, the tears starting to flow once again. "I failed my own family when they needed me the most. I failed my community. I failed my mate. That means I alone must shoulder the burden." I was taken aback. Did she actually believe that? Had she spent an entire year in this gorram tin can beating herself up over that?
I spoke up. "Pardon my French, but that's bullshit and you know it." Krystal looked up at me, her expression as confused as it was sad. "Did they send you to get help from Lylat, or did they expect you to take on these assholes yourself? Because you're here alone, seeking an enemy that almost killed you before you got wrapped up in this Sauria mess. This sounds like a damn suicide mission to me."
The sheer exhaustion in her voice was apparent even to me. "They... sent me alone; there was no choice in the matter and it was implied that I was not expected to return. They deemed it my responsibility to track the bandits and attempt to bring them to justice. Outside forces were to be avoided, as the Temple leaders did not want to bring undue attention to our world. You must understand; if I refused to do this my clan would have taken the blame for the pirate raid. They wanted someone to take responsibility, and that fell on me. It was either I do this or I face punishment and our clan would be stripped of everything and be exiled to the Outlands."
I blinked. I had been drinking, but I wasn't that drunk. "I'm not a master tactician, but please tell me you see the flaws in that plan? Either these leaders were pretty clueless as to your chances of taking out the very same bastards who wrecked your entire city, or they've been reading their Machiavelli." At her confused look I explained further. "A famous author from my world's distant past. He wrote about obtaining and maintaining political power through deception and intrigue; cloak and dagger stuff. Are you sure they didn't want your family out of the way, or you to commit suicide via debt of honor?"
"You believe the Elders planned this? They wanted my clan exiled; they wanted to send me off to die? You believe they did this to steal what was rightfully ours?" She looked disturbed at the thought as she took a healthy pull off of the bottle. I couldn't say I blamed her.
"It's a possibility." I replied, adding a sigh of my own to the air. "It's also the rambling of a drunken sysad who is in way over his head. A drunken sysad who is still wondering if all of this is real, so please take what I'm saying with a grain of salt?" It was then I noticed her hand consistently rested upon mine after handling her drink. "Speaking of which, I have a pretty serious question to ask you."
The vixen's eyebrow perked, her emerald eyes staring into mine. I knew she could likely read my mind, especially with my inebriated state. Yet, I was going to ask anyway. "You're acting very damn familiar with me, to the point where I'm starting to get pretty confused. I saw your picture frame. You were married, for Chrissake. Why are you being this affectionate with someone you barely know? You also realize I'm nearly twice your age, right?"
"Twice your...?" She paused for a moment, during which I realized she was picking up on some of my thoughts. "The entertainment program!" She chuckled, shaking her head as she did so. "I'm older than you believe me to be, Adam. By Lylat standards, I'm nearly twenty-nine cycles. And as far as my affection and familiarity? I've been completely alone without any sort of contact for over a cycle. You have fought alongside me and have treated me like I am more than just a tool to battle the Sharpclaw. You risked your life to save mine more than once, and I consider you have earned my trust and friendship. I find myself at a loss to thank you; is affection among friends something which is limited among your kind?"
"Your thanks is more than sufficient. To be candid, I'm a little uncomfortable with the direction things seem to be headed. Mentally, I'm still trying to process all of this; I'm still trying to find a way home. Everything I know is there. Friends, family, career, and my goals." Something else didn't sit right with me. There were subtle but major differences between the games and 'reality', as it were. Krystal's age and background was one part. The human skeleton in the cave was another. I wasn't sure I wanted to be around for Chekov's gun to go off.
After an awkward pause she nodded, turning away from me to pay more attention to the bottle of mead. I idly noted that it was still around half full. "I... I understand. I keep getting a few images from you. You are mated? I do not wish to cause any strife if you are."
It was now my turn to balk. "I'm not. Haven't been for a few years, if I'm totally honest. I just... damn it. Okay, to make a long story short I got far too emotionally attached to her far too quickly. I lost myself inside the relationship. I pushed away friends and family; I ended up getting far too carried away. In hindsight, that's what she wanted. I got sucked into this unhealthy spiral and didn't realize it until I was too far in. It wasn't really a question of who was at fault. I made mistakes; so did she." This particular story required some more liquid courage, which I willingly partook. Krystal remained still, her attention entirely focused on me. It was a particularly surreal sight in a day full of them.
"A very close friend of mine lost his life. He had been trying to spend time with me; I kept pushing him away to try to keep my relationship together. His death shattered my world. I started to realize just what I had done, and my willingness to keep her around simply evaporated. I started pushing back against her demands of my time and emotional availability. She left me shortly afterward, and it was another major blow. I've struggled to separate feelings of my friend's death and my former relationship. Even after a few years it's something I'm still trying to heal from." I lifted my glass. "With mixed success."
She didn't say anything, yet the tears brimming in her eyes said it all. I was about to say something, but was cut off by the vixen rising from her side of the booth. Her good hand fell upon mine once more; the inviting softness of her fur caressing my palm an insistent siren song as she tugged. She wanted me to stand. Through the haze of alcohol and exhaustion I complied, casting a confused expression in response to her soft smile. Yet, I had the chance to speak. "Look. I wasn't born yesterday. You know I find you physically attractive. I can also tell you're hurting and lonely, and being stuffed in this tin can for a year definitely hasn't helped matters. At the same time, I've known you for only a couple of days. I don't want to take advantage of your pain and loneliness. That wouldn't make me a good friend."
She let go of my hand for a moment, her good arm winding around my waist to draw me closer. I hesitantly responded in kind, doing my best to avoid her broken arm as she pulled me into a tight embrace. I hadn't done this in a few years; the warmth from her body combined with the silky texture of both her nightgown and exposed fur lending an exotic air to the lost sensation of holding someone close. Once again she nosed against my cheek; I was greeted with a faint spicy, earthy scent that reminded me of cinnamon and something exotically floral combined with the sweetness of the mead of which she had been partaking. The vixen's embrace grew tighter as I felt her muzzle nestle into the crook of my neck.
"You give yourself too little credit." She withdrew a little bit, just enough to catch my eyes with hers. Her brilliant emerald gaze appeared to look into my very soul; the effect was as mesmerizing as it had been earlier. Her soft smile once again held a hint of sadness behind it, yet her expression held a hidden strength. "Your actions speak of someone who cares for others far more than you are willing to admit, even to yourself. Even now, you are worried for your family and friends. You risked your life in that well for very much the same reason. You did not do it in an attempt at gaining my favor, or to seek glory." Her arm slipped from my back. I was about to pull away until her hand fell upon my cheek; the softness of her fur a sensation that part of me craved and another part of me feared. "You were concerned for my well-being, as well as that of the Queen. You asked me why I was treating you with this level of familiarity. Your actions and the sincerity behind them have shown me that I can trust you."
Her smile didn't waver as she leaned forward. My heart caught in my throat as I steeled myself for what was coming. Instead, the sensation was a quick, warm swipe across the tip of my nose, coupled with the sight of her tongue poking out from her lips in a silly expression. She giggled at my dumbfounded reaction; the fact I hadn't let go of her wasn't lost on either of us.
I took a couple of seconds to regard my current situation before voicing my findings. "Uhm... I'm more used to a different reaction when I mention I'm attracted to someone. I barely know you, we both have had too much to drink, and... goddamn, you have beautiful eyes." I noticed her ears flare up once again; she was blushing about as badly as I was. The softness of her fur against my cheek combined with her hesitant yet expectant gaze was taking their toll; I generally had great impulse control but I didn't know if my common sense was going to win out. "That was an expression of friendly affection, right? I don't want to get my signals crossed because our cultures are completely different, but I'm tempted to do something very ill-advised and I think we might want to take a break before that happens." I started to take a deep breath and pull away, yet her fingers started to gently trace along my jawline and down my neck. I shivered; the realization that her actions were quite intentional beginning to dawn on me.
Her bashful look was offset by the return of that impish smile. "That is considered somewhat more than friendly. Your attraction to me isn't one-sided, and you aren't alone in being tempted." I noticed her tail had been swaying slightly; her nervous energy was almost palpable. The sensation of her fingers on my neck was breaking down barriers worn thin by my current state. She wasn't making this easy; my response was to remove one of my arms from around her waist. My reasoning was that I was going to pull away, but I wasn't fooling either of us. "I am curious. What do you believe is ill-advised?"
My hand found its way to her cheek; downy fur greeting my touch as her own continued its assault on my senses. Maynard's voice echoed through the tinny speakers of my tablet; somehow putting a multitude of indescribable, conflicting feelings to words. "Roll the windows down, this cool night air is curious; let the whole world look in, who cares who sees anything?" Inhibitions had been cast aside, yet I wasn't quite believing what was happening until it was well underway. My attention never left her eyes; entrancing, soulful pools of limpid emerald framing a soft smile on her vulpine features. My fingers gently slid underneath her muzzle, tilting her head upwards by just a fraction. "This." My eyes closed; I felt my lips tentatively brush against hers. I was hesitant; aware that I was crossing a line despite the sensation shooting through me as if I had been struck by lightning.
I wasn't expecting Krystal's reaction. Her lips pressed into mine; I distantly felt her good hand sliding from my cheek to once again wrap around my waist in a tight embrace. The Rubicon had been crossed. Of its own volition my own arm pulled her tighter to me as our tentative kiss deepened. Her lips parted ever so slightly; the sweet hint of mead crossing mine as she did so. We remained there for a moment, caught between our dulled inhibitions and understanding that there would be ramifications for our actions. I was nearly frozen in place as she pressed the initiative; I hardly noticed I was tilting my head to the side in response. Our tongues danced together; I was acutely aware that her heart had been racing as fast as mine. The lingering sweetness and hint of mead clashed so well with the earthiness of the whiskey I had been drinking; her spicy-floral scent more intoxicating than the alcohol I had partaken. A quick yet sharp pressure of teeth drew upon my lower lip; I both heard and felt a contented purr rise from her throat. After a moment which felt both eternal and far too brief I pulled away, opening my eyes to witness that haunting emerald gaze.
Her lips returned to mine briefly, a much chaster kiss before we separated; taking a moment to catch our breath. I felt her tail brush against one of my legs as she tucked her muzzle against the side of my neck. "I... I don't think that was very ill-advised. If you are afraid I will regret this when the merriment has passed, don't. Yes, I'm aware not much time has passed since meeting you, and I can tell your kind needs to process this more slowly than is normal for a Cerinian." She paused for a moment and I felt her lips trail up my neck a moment, followed by the brief pressure of her teeth; that caused a shiver to run up my spine.
I wasn't really sure what to say or how to say it, so I stood there speechless for a few moments. To say I was conflicted was an understatement; the soft warmth of her embrace something that I couldn't lie to myself about disliking. This turn of events was so incredibly unexpected, and I was still unsure if I had made the right decision. "You're right; I need to process this. I'm feeling incredibly conflicted. This feels amazing, yet at the same time I don't want to hurt you. I'm a little worried about doing that. If I find a way home, or if this prevents you from considering someone else you should..."
Krystal cut me off with another kiss; this time the insistence of her lips came with it a little more coherence as we started to navigate that particular anatomical difference. "That is a risk I choose to take. I would rather share comfort and affection with someone who doesn't treat me like an instrument. For the past cycle I have had to come to terms that I am worth more to my people dead than alive. The Saurians are grateful for our help, but beyond that we are weapons to be used to combat Scales and his Sharpclaw. I understand you are conflicted; you are unsure if you can return the sort of feelings that you consider necessary of a mate. That will not stop me from freely offering my friendship, comfort, and affection with you."
"The well." My realization hit me. "You made this decision when I went down into the well after you." The vixen nodded, shifting into a position that didn't put so much pressure onto her broken arm. I had to admit this felt comfortable, if a bit foreign to me. "Just... please don't put me on a pedestal. I'm not a hero. I just want to find my way home. I can't really offer you any definitives, other than I'm not going to let you go at this alone for as long as I'm here."
"That is all I need and expect, Adam." Her soft smile was comforting, as was the way her arm wrapped around me. "You were willing to put your life in danger to save mine; you have done it more than once without thinking about it." She paused for a moment, smirking as she cut off my train of thought. "No, it wasn't solely your sense of self-preservation, either. Stop thinking that; you're trying to trick yourself." Her tone of voice was playful despite the seriousness of our conversation.
"Uhm..." Yeah, she had me speechless. Debating my own thoughts with a telepath wasn't exactly how I expected things to go. "I'll admit self-honesty isn't my strong suit. To put it out there, I needed... well, need your help. We both already know I wouldn't be alive right now without you saving my life; you're not exactly the damsel in distress type. Along with that, you deserved better than being stuffed in that thing in Krazoa Palace. I don't know what it would have done to you, but I'm damn glad neither of us had to find out."
Krystal's response was to press her lips to my cheek. "I'm grateful to you for not allowing that to happen." Her tone of voice changed a bit; I could tell she was definitely tipsy, but that tinge of sadness continued to lace her words. "I know a lot has transpired and we have much to discuss, yet could we save that discussion for later? I believe we both need a distraction." She nestled against me; a not so subtle hint that perhaps it was time to set aside the seriousness.
I just wasn't sure what kind of distraction she was hoping for. I was a little afraid to continue what we started earlier; the temptation was there but there was a major difference between kissing someone that I wasn't sure I should be kissing and getting more physically involved. Inspiration struck me. "How about a movie?" She looked up at me as I motioned to the table; a confused look on her vulpine features until I pointed to my tablet. "I have a few on my tablet. They're entertainment videos, usually a couple of hours long. Let's sit back down and I'll find something to watch."
I was surprised at how easily she compiled, sliding into the booth with enough room as to not bump her broken arm. Her embrace continued as soon as I slid down next to her; her head on my shoulder as to brush my cheek with hers. The contact felt great but awkward at the same time. "These are similar to Lylatian holovids, I assume?" She wiggled her arm free to reclaim the bottle of mead she had been drinking; I figured she really wanted a distraction.
"I don't know what those are, but that might be similar." She took another sip; I felt compelled to continue working on the glass of whiskey I hadn't quite finished. I fished through the short archive I kept on the tablet; 64GB was a fair amount of space but I tended not to keep much in the way of video content. "Let me find something that isn't too heavy." Die Hard was out, and while I had the first few seasons of X-Files, I figured that might also be a bit too on the edge despite probably being an okay primer for more or less normal scenes and interactions on Earth. After a little thought I settled on one. "This might work. A bit of a period piece, but a little comedic. Bear in mind this came out when I was a little kid." I selected the movie and sat back; aware that Krystal had nestled into me as the video began.
"Back... to the future?" She inquired. I nodded at her and motioned to the screen as the movie began. Her questioning gaze slowly shifted from me to the tablet as the story began, hopefully drawing our attention for a couple of short hours as we snuggled in the dining nook. It was a strange end to a strange day, I had to admit.
The ending credits rolled as my head swam. I hadn't realized I had filled my glass at least once more during the movie. If I hadn't been drunk then, I was now. By the fact Krystal's bottle of mead was empty so was she. The vixen hadn't moved away from my side for the entire film; I had paused several times to explain concepts or add context to some of the scenes; she was sharp enough to understand the concepts behind time travel and what was going on for most of the movie. She brightened up considerably when I explained there had been two more movies made, though I would have to figure out how to get my laptop or desktop to run in order to play the DVDs. At this point I was exhausted; the alcohol was very much telling me it would be a good idea to crash. "Okay, Krys." My voice was definitely slurred; hopefully I wasn't talking in the happy, sing-song voice I generally did when I was this far gone. "I think we should get some sleep. I'll help you to bed, then I think I'll crash out on the couch."
The vixen giggled as I helped her to her feet. It wasn't easy; I wasn't steady and neither was she. We stumbled forward several steps until I nearly slipped. Amazingly she managed to catch me. "A little... too much merriment?" I nodded at her as I finished guiding her to the bed. "Mmf. You're not getting out of this that easily." That mesmerizing gaze of emerald fell upon my eyes once more, framed with that same soft smile.
"Wha... what do you mean?" I was a little confused. I figured that was that, we would wake up tomorrow with headaches and never speak of this again; just a drunken fluke and water under the bridge. "I'm tired and we both could use the sleep... we've got a bit of resting up to do before we can get back to the Queen."
"That couch isn't very comfortable... I should know." The mischievous smile returned, and her good hand grasped my shoulder. "Besides, I figured I might thank you properly..." She pulled me down to the bed; despite her injury she was fast and she was strong. She leaned in, nosing against my cheek before pulling back just enough for our lips to meet once more. This time there wasn't any hesitation on her part; whatever warning bells were ringing in my head faded into distant fuzz as the sweet taste of mead once again danced on my tongue; mingling with her spicy-floral scent. My arms found themselves winding around hers as she did the same; embracing as tightly as her sling-bound arm would allow.
Eventually I found myself falling back on the bed; head heavy with far too much drink and total bewilderment at what I was experiencing. Krystal managed to tuck in against me without breaking our kiss; it was only a few moments later that we parted, her lips still brushing against mine as she spoke. "I hope you realize I have no objections if you stay here tonight."
"Jesus, you're making this very difficult." I opened my eyes to regard the cerulean vixen lying in my arms at that moment. "You already know I'm going to say yes, but you also know there's a large part of me that's saying this isn't right." I took a deep breath but didn't bother to pull away. My mind was stuck somewhere between refusing as politely as I could and taking the couch or completely giving into temptation and pushing my boundaries with her. I was rusty, not inexperienced; the look in her eyes was pretty much an open invitation, but I had made my decision. "I'm going to take the middle ground, Krys. If you want me here with you tonight I'll do it, but I don't think it's a good idea to get much more intimate than this." I punctuated my words by a very soft, brief kiss.
Krystal's smile widened somewhat, her left hand winding up from between us to brush against my cheek. "Don't worry. Telepath, remember?" A giggle echoed into the cramped living area of the spaceship. "We both could use the comfort, and you aren't the kind to push things much farther unless I let you." She paused for a moment, one of those impish grins lighting up her features. "Maybe later." Her husky whisper caused me to balk; I could tell I went beet red at the suggestion. She laughed for a moment and went in for another kiss, catching the tip of my nose instead.
It was in that moment that I started to understand what was going on. Perhaps we were two broken, lost souls seeking levity and comfort in whatever way we knew how; an escape from a dangerous situation which had nearly claimed both our lives multiple times. I wasn't quite convinced that this was anything more than a few random neurons firing their last as I lay dying somewhere, but something deeper inside told me that wasn't the case. I still fervently wanted to find my way back home, but perhaps I needed to relax and let life happen as it came. For the moment things were going mostly alright. I was still alive and safe. I had a friend I could trust, even though I was sitting dangerously close on the metaphorical fence of platonic. "I... appreciate your trust in me, Krys. I'll do my best not to damage it." That was shaky ground to be on, but it was all I really could do. I was used to the bottom falling out every time something like this happened, but what else was new?
"Don't be hard on yourself. We can only do the best we can do with what we have to do with it." Krystal's crisply accented voice held no sharpness or frustration; only a contented, tired quality as she shifted positions. I got the hint and shifted with her; the Cerinian curling in close facing me. I felt an odd sensation brushing my legs; only after a moment realizing she had wrapped her tail around them. "Thank you for everything. I know neither of us were expecting this, but... it feels good." She buried her muzzle in my shoulder, not bothering to suppress a yawn as she wound down.
I remained awake for a while, even after the subtle shift in Krystal's breathing and movements let me know she fell asleep. Thoughts raced through my head; thoughts of home, of failure, of friends long since gone from my life. Even though I was tired, my mind refused to let me sleep. The images swirled around my head until exhaustion took me.