AUgust2024 10 Enemies-to-Allies (Marnuck, Frye)

a/n: The indigen of Mira will attack humanity and Ganglion alike. A mixed group of aliens need to work together. CW: dislocated shoulder.

The Marnuck glared at the small group huddled across from him. The alcove was deep but barely long enough to hold him if he were to lay flat. Yet with unspoken agreement the different sides had managed to keep a clear zone in between.

He should be nervous, having lost his weapons in his escape and finding himself outnumbered five to one. More likely he would be the victor if it came to battle. Two children were weeping and shaking the largest human, who had collapsed into a groaning heap. It was no longer a threat, although even in collapse its bulk provided a shield for another figure. That delicate creature was curled against the crumbling inner wall of their shared shelter, motionless except for the faint rise and fall of its ribs.

The fifth alien sat grinning opposite the Marnuck, a brutal sword cradled in its lap, providing the last danger. It was armored and experienced and alert. Nevertheless, the Marnuck was sure he could defeat it. There was something off in the way it held its left arm.

He had allowed himself to consider the situation too long. The alien wasn't silent, hadn't been for a while. The Marnuck tried to catch up to what it was babbling brightly about. "I'm telling you, I've been through it before. If you give it a good yank, it'll pop back into its socket and I'll be ready to help you."

"I could kill you all," the Marnuck said without thinking. Damn, he hadn't meant to show his feelings like that. The blow to his head must have been harder than he thought. He licked the joint of his lower lips and tasted blood.

"Naturally, yeah, you could try," agreed the human, broad and scarred and colored like Sylvalum sand. It didn't seem any less cheerful. "But then it would be just the one of you versus all eight arms of that thing out there."

The human had pointed out the real threat. Lurking outside their shelter was a cantor of incredible size and fury. It had a mere four arms in spite of what the human said, but it had been strong enough to tear through the Marnuck's squadron, leaving him the only survivor. He had thought himself lucky to find shelter in a crumbling alcove. He'd found the human team there, freshly arrived, having suffered nearly as badly as his own group.

Not nearly, his heart whispered. All of his comrades were gone and he was alone. The aliens were broken but together. In spite of his boast, maybe he couldn't kill all five aliens in close quarters, not even if two had collapsed and one was a Nopon. If he slept (and his head buzzed and grew fuzzy with need at the mere thought), they would kill him. If he waited, the alcove would eventually collapse around them; they had shifted regularly to avoid being buried but soon they would be exposed. If he left, he might as well walk straight into the cantor's mouth. That monstrosity would send him to rejoin his team, standing all together before The God of the Graveyard.

"Come on," cajoled the human. "It's a good deal. I trust you to fix my shoulder, you trust me to fight by your side. We all win. You go home, we go home, no one speaks of this again. Sounds good?"

The Marnuck knew he should refuse. It was better, by his Ganglion masters' estimation, that he allow this human team to perish even if he also was left to be killed. Five for the price of one. If you chose to ignore the children, it would still give the Ganglion three triumphs for the negligible cost of one unimportant Marnuck. The Ganglion wouldn't even care to remember his name.

The thing was, he didn't agree. Maybe it was the buzzing in his head, maybe it was humming in his blood, but he could not agree. None of their deaths would add a single drop to the judgment scales of the Great God. None of their blood would fill the pan and bring him honor and reward in the afterlife. By the pantheon, the death of the children and the helpless might anger a lesser god. The God of the Graveyard was supreme, but not deaf to his subordinates. The Marnuck might find what he had already earned tainted by their displeasure.

The Marnuck scooted closer to his opponent. "What do you need me to do?"

The human split its wet lips, showing two rows of blunted teeth. "Okay, grab here, above the elbow for God's sake, and pull outward. Probably need to brace your boot on my chest." They maneuvered awkwardly in the limited space. "Okay, on three. Just don't take it personally when I cuss you out."

The Marnuck paused. "Will it hurt you?"

The human flashed its flat smile again. "Oh yeah."

"Good."

a/n: The team is probably Frye, Doug, Celica, Lin and the tater. I love this Marnuck but I don't know his name. The religious stuff is canon to the game, but if you want I can tell you all about other OC gods. You have been warned.

Next up: Retail worker. West Gate Skell Refueling Station ahoy!