Chapter 15: Si vis pacem…
The trip took less than ten minutes. I had halfway expected that, but the shuttle was at least as fast in atmosphere as most jetliners. As I watched the scenery rush past from the small bridge Krystal deftly brought the craft to a stop above our destination; aiming for the clearing next to my house. I wasn't quite sure if it was her skill at piloting or some sort of inertial dampening, but the only indication we had touched down was a nearly imperceptible shudder from the deck. I glanced over to her as her hands danced over the control panel, likely performing some type of shutdown procedure. She met my glance with a soft smile. "Not bad for my first time?"
I nodded; realizing that she probably hadn't had a real chance to use the skills she forcefully received. She made it seem effortless; frankly had I given it a go I probably would have wrecked something. "I think you've got some natural talent with flying, hon." I smiled back, looking over the mostly idyllic scenery framed by the midday sun. "We've got some daylight, so maybe we can get some time to move some…" I broke off as I saw figures approaching the shuttle; figures that were somewhat incongruent to the area. "That's new." I resumed.
Krystal looked from me to the approaching Saurians, picking up on my observation immediately. "Snowhorns. Here?" I nodded; her confused expression changing to one of concentration. "Their thoughts are cautious, but not hostile. I think we should make our presence known."
It didn't take us long to exit the ship, opting to use the main cargo ramp instead of the airlock. I didn't retrieve my rifle, but as Krystal grabbed her staff I made sure to stick my appropriated Glock into my waistband before we emerged onto Saurian soil once more. We looked up to see four Snowhorns approaching us; one clad with a shoulderpiece and a helmet made of some sort of metallic armor. This was my first time seeing one of their species as I was a little too busy being unconscious and bleeding out when Krys presumably made their acquaintance; they stood taller and broader than the Earthwalkers and looked like they could trample most Sharpclaw without much trouble. In short, they were tough hombres. I recalled the one with the helmet was Garunda Te, which meant someone saved us the trouble of going back to Ice Mountain to bust him out of captivity. I glanced over to Krystal; she looked back with a nod as I got the distinct impression she understood.
One of the mammoths seemed to recognize her; the relief clearly apparent in their voice as they approached us. "Thank the Krazoa it's you! We were worried the sky vessel may have carried Sharpclaw." They paused for a moment, giving me a closer look as I felt awkwardly scrutinized. "Has your friend recovered from his injuries?" Their mouth didn't move in time to their speech, which probably meant the translation amulet Krystal had put together was doing its job admirably.
"He has, Shulas Tu. Thank you." Krystal smiled and bowed. "This is Adam, my halche, or companion. We are grateful for your help on Ice Mountain." She paused a moment as I nodded at the group; I didn't really have much of value to add to the conversation. "I wasn't expecting to see you here in Thorntail Hollow. Is everything okay?"
Garunda Te grinned; at least as much as a tusked mammoth actually could grin. "From what the others have told me your tenacity and your firesticks took care of most of the Sharpclaw guarding me, Miss Krystal. That allowed my people to break me free from that infernal prison." He pointed to her using his trunk; the tip of which was a little thicker than my arm. He made for an imposing figure, and I'm sure the remaining Sharpclaw got the business end of his wrath. "I thank you for your help. We are here to help safeguard the Queen and Prince Earthwalker. Only as united tribes can we withstand the threat of the Sharpclaw."
"How is the Queen Earthwalker?" I interjected, curious if the translator would work both ways. "We had given her some medicine before we left."
Apparently it worked just fine, as Garunda Te answered my question. "You two did well by giving her the white Grubtubs. She is well on her way to recovering from her illness. Unfortunately time is short and we need your help to retrieve the Spellstones from General Scales and his Sharpclaw. Come; we must discuss our next steps." The group of Snowhorn turned to leave.
I placed my hand on Krystal's shoulder, getting her attention as a smile tugged at her lips. "Is there anything wrong, my che?"
"This is a good time to get what supplies we can into the shuttle, hon. Perhaps I should do that while you confer with the Snowhorns and Earthwalkers?" I nodded to my house. "That and I can see what I can do about getting some fuel for the shuttle." The latter part I wasn't as confident about; in the game the scattered fuel cells came from the Great Fox and there wasn't any evidence Star Fox was around other than that Arwing the shuttle's sensors recorded a few days ago. Shabunga would drive a hard bargain, and that meant I'd have to get my hands on some scarabs. Nobody said this would be easy.
Krystal nodded, reaching out to grasp my hand. "That isn't a bad idea." She leaned forward to kiss me; a soft, electrifying sensation despite its brevity. "I'll help you finish once I'm done; concentrate on taking supplies and anything you can think will be useful first."
"Sounds good, foxy." I smiled at her as she turned to follow the group of mammoths; waving at her as they departed. It was time to get to work. It didn't take long to retrieve my car keys and make it up to the Warpstone, who presided over my parked Lexus. Despite those events having happened a few days ago it felt like an eternity, but my car and its contents were secure. I noticed the smashed remains of the gun safe were missing, but I had removed everything inside including the bag of spare parts, stocks and barrels that my uncle hadn't taken with him. I made a note of checking the detritus later; perhaps I could salvage something.
"Ye're on yer feet again, good sir!" the Warpstone exclaimed as I walked up, hitting the remote fob's unlock button to be greeted with its ubiquitous 'beep-beep'. "How's the lass that was with you?"
I looked up at the living granite construct, unable to suppress a smile. "She's doing well. We were able to find some healing supplies and get some rest. Thanks for getting us to our ship; it was a great help."
"Anytime, lad." The Warpstone turned to the car. "I've heard the rumblings from the Snowhorn about what happened to their people. You be careful when you go up there; Darkice Mines is a dangerous place and Scales is sure to have stationed Sharpclaw there by the dozen." As he spoke I opened the trunk and made a quick check of the weapons and ammunition stored within.
"We'll do our best. If I can go through one of these little missions without requiring medical attention, I'll be quite grateful." I smirked and closed the trunk, making my way to the driver's door. "You be careful, too. Catch you around, man." I had to admit the Warpstone was a friendly guy, for someone who was by and large a stationary piece of living rock. The tried and true 2GR V6 started once again as if nothing abnormal had happened to it and I was back at the shuttle in no time.
I decided to park the car inside the shuttle and offload everything I could. I was right; the bay was about the same size as a large two-car garage and would provide ample room for any wrenching I might need to do. We didn't have a ton of time, so I grabbed my current cargo of weapons, parts, and ammunition and set them upstairs; I would need to go through everything else later. There were other things we needed from inside my house.
The IS350 was instrumental in moving everything I could think of. I just drove down the shuttle's ramp and parked at my back door; thankful for the distraction and some mindless busywork to keep the maelstrom of emotions and questions at bay. I started by heading into the kitchen and surveying what food I had left. After what I estimated had been about five days, I was sure all my perishables were trashed and I was right. The fridge stunk to high heaven, but I collected all the nonperishables from it. A couple of packs of canned soda, a few energy drinks, beer, some bottled water, condiments and things like that. It wasn't much, but it would help.
The cupboards held a lot more promise. Stuff like rice, lentils, packs of instant ramen, boxed meals, canned pasta and soup, more soda and water that I hadn't put into the fridge, seasonings, the coffee service and accoutrements that I kept around for friends but usually didn't use, and basically everything else in my kitchen made it over with the next carload. I wasn't one of those people who went full minimalist on groceries and bought just what they needed. After a couple of lean times when I was in my late teens I started to keep a stockpile of staples and hadn't quite stopped. At least we had food, though we would probably want to go through my stock of bread and pastries first. I looked upon the now well-stocked kitchenette and grinned; I had figured out one of the appliances which seemed to be an analogue to a refrigerator and stocked it with some drinks for later.
The next trip was a little more esoteric. My clothes went in next, combined with what Fi had left behind just in case Krystal wanted to wear something other than her flightsuit. That was pretty awkward, considering the fact that I was essentially giving my current partner my ex's clothes. At the same time Krys didn't have much and I figured it was better to use it than waste it. I also grabbed mementos, photo albums, and some of the records I had of my past. Legal documents such as the titles to my vehicles, birth certificate, and professional certifications went as well. John's duffel bags and the mix of useful and not so useful equipment came with as well, along with my collection of tools and car supplies.
The sun was just beginning to set as I went back for the third time. This round I went for some of the stuff that I would want to have if we somehow survived all of this mess. My laptop and desktop computers, hard drives containing personal data and media, and I was even able to fit my TV and sound bar into the back seat. I wasn't sure what it would take to make adapters to power them, but I would figure it out. I had a few sacrificial electrical devices to make sure I didn't toast anything important. If it worked, I think that including a 'reverse-engineered IT equipment to integrate with alien technology' bullet point on my résumé would make for some fun conversations during job interviews.
Dusk was about to set in as I pulled the Lexus into the shuttle. I took a moment to glance over the scenery; looking at the Saurian cliff behind the house which was starting to get framed in hues of orange and purple. It was a beautiful sight, though a glint of reflection in the foliage behind my house caught my eye. It didn't look natural. Perplexed, I decided to go back there to take a closer look.
I walked down the ramp, making sure that I had my Glock still tucked inside my waistband. There was still enough light to see by, though it was dark enough that I didn't want to stumble upon a Sharpclaw or one of Sauria's numerous predators. Still, curiosity and confidence in sixteen rounds of 9x19mm +P hollowpoints led the way. Whatever it was had left a wide path of disturbed foliage down a short hill to the base of the cliff. I kept my hand on the grip of my pistol just in case I made a potentially fatal error in judgment.
What I found instead was both puzzling and relieving. Dislodged foliage had fallen over the object, hiding it from casual observation. However, the sun had reflected off the dark gray paintwork and windshield of the chariot which had started my journey into car ownership and modification; the vehicle that had somehow never left my possession throughout the many years I owned it. My faithful four-wheeled friend had come a long way from the newspaper classified ad that drew my attention when it came time to buy my first car during my senior year of high school; at this point literally as it sat in a piece of Saurian wilderness.
Before I could brush off the leaves and branches from the hood, Krystal's voice carried in the air behind me. "Adam? Did you find something?" I glanced back to see her silhouette framed in the dying light, only just making out a curious and concerned expression on her vulpine features. Behind her stood one of the Snowhorns, but I couldn't really tell if it was Garunda Te.
"Yeah!" I called back. "Apparently my GT-Four got carried over as well; looks like it slid down this embankment a bit!" I swept the detritus off the hood to more fully reveal its vintage yet iconic profile; the repaint I had done several years ago as part of a major overhaul still gleaming. It was a bit redundant as I had the IS, but I'd be damned if I was going to let my first car rot on an alien planet.
"Your… what?" Krystal asked, carefully starting to make her way down the embankment. I had already made my way to the driver's side of the car, opening it to reach the headlight controls. With a gentle whir of electric motors the pop-ups rose from the bodywork; bathing the path in clean, white light. Krystal blinked for a bit, but the light was helpful to prevent her from slipping or tripping on the uneven path.
"My first car, hon. It might be able to make it up there under its own power." I waited for her to join me; her confusion still somewhat apparent. "I'd rather not leave it here like this."
"I understand." Krys replied; reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder. "Were you able to move some supplies from your house?"
I nodded. "Yeah. There's food, water, tools, and other things I was able to salvage." I reached through the car and unlocked the passenger's door; pushing it open for her. "C'mon, let's see if I can get this on solid ground without resorting to towing it."
My Cerinian companion slid into the passenger seat; following my example by shutting the door behind her. I wasted little time in checking the interior; apparently I had forgotten to set the parking brake the last time I had driven my beast. I applied it before moving the shifter into neutral; foot pushing the clutch pedal in before I turned the key. The high-pitched, rapid beeps of the seat belt warning made Krystal wince before it was cut out by the whine of the starter; after a couple of cranks the engine caught and the deceptively soft growl of the engine carried to the air. "Sorry." I grimaced. "I can disable that later."
The vixen nodded; smiling softly. "I think my range of hearing is somewhat different than yours, che. Your thoughts and emotions are very strong regarding this vehicle; may I ask why?"
"It's a long story." I smiled back. "Let me see if I can get this back onto terra firma, first." My hand and foot did the intimately familiar dance of shifting into first gear. I gently pressed the throttle a fraction of the way; the turbocharged inline-four under the hood letting out a soft rumble as I let the kept the revs low and let the all-wheel-drive system do the work.
AWD and a Torsen limited-slip rear differential did their job by keeping whatever traction it could as I gently eased the aging rally car up the slope it had found itself in. The going got dicier as I neared the top; the rear end stepping out slightly as something hit an exposed tree root and caused the suspension to upset. I learned and honed my skills with winter driving on this very car and was prepared to catch it. I applied countersteer and increased the throttle output. The engine responded with a snort as the throttle opened; the soft growl transforming to a snarl as the chassis with multiple WRC wins under its belt clawed up the hill and onto solid ground, all in front of a surprised-looking Garunda Te. With a nod I proceeded to pull in next to the back porch.
I gave Krystal a wry grin as I switched the headlights off and killed the engine. "Long story short, this was the first car I ever owned. I wanted a sports car; my folks wanted me to get something sensible. We compromised on this. I was a little underwhelmed at first, until a friend of mine helped me by showing me the true potential of this car. I've had other cars, but I kept this one as it's reliable and has seen me through a lot of good and bad times." I patted the dash before opening the door. "What's the plan, hon?"
We emerged into the dusk; my vulpine companion filling me in as I locked the doors. "We need to retrieve the Spellstone from Darkice Mines. Garunda Te is the Gatekeeper of the Spellstone hidden in the mines. Scales approached him, threatening to kill members of his tribe if he did not hand over the Spellstone. He refused but his daughter, Belina Te, complied. Instead of killing them, he enslaved them instead." Krystal's look was sour. I didn't blame her; not after what we found out earlier today.
Garunda Te chimed in. "My daughter she may be, yet she betrayed the oaths we swear as Gatekeepers and dishonored the Snowhorn Tribe. I want to be clear; your task is to retrieve the Spellstone, not rescue my daughter."
I wasn't about to let that go. It rubbed me the wrong way in the game, and it rubbed me the wrong way now. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?" I countered. "She's your family, and family sticks together. This is a bad situation with no right decision, but I'm not going to let any of your people suffer or die on my watch. That includes her. There's been too much of that already."
Krystal's expression was one of barely concealed approval while Garunda Te glowered somewhat. "Like your Cerinian friend, your words hold some truth. However, that does not undo the damage and dishonor she caused to our tribe. I cannot let my role as a father take precedence over my role as leader of our tribe."
"We will have to respectfully disagree, honorable one." Krystal interjected. "I was taught that the bonds between family and friends are sacred; even more so than the bonds between leaders and their subjects." Her voice was polite, yet firm. "We are glad to retrieve the Spellstone for you, but we will not place ourselves between you and your daughter." Garunda was about to respond, but she wasn't finished. "However, the more pressing matter is fuel for our shuttle. You agreed to help us… negotiate with the shopkeeper?" Judging by the expressions of both Garunda Te and my Cerinian inamorata, I was pretty sure I wanted to be a fly on the wall for this particular conversation.
We followed Garunda Te into the shop; a wide berth given to the obviously irritated Snowhorn. Shabunga was at his usual post in the main entrance; floating on a contraption that seemed far too technologically advanced for this planet. However, considering he was sitting on a few scavenged Lylatian wrecks I figured it wasn't all that incongruent. "Welcome to my store." He hissed. "What items are you interested in this evening?"
"These two require fuel for their skyship, Shopkeeper." Garunda answered. "They have agreed to recover the Spellstones. This should cover the expense." The mammoth's trunk extracted a decently sized bag from beneath his cloak, setting it on the ground in front of Shabunga.
"Not quite, Gatekeeper." Shabunga answered slyly. I wasn't sure if the impression that he was trying to milk us for all we were worth was my own or if Krystal was relaying his thoughts to me, but it was plainly obvious he was trying to screw us. "Lylatian fuel cells are quite valuable and very rare. Surely they are worth more than the paltry sum you've offered me?"
"You lie." Krystal's answer was blunt and to the point. "You have more than enough fuel cells to completely fill our shuttle thrice over, and nobody else on Sauria would have need of them. You didn't even need to make an effort to bring them here, as the Lightfoot regularly bring you items they scavenge from Lylatian wrecks in exchange for food and building materials." She fixed him with a withering glare. "This planet is in danger of being destroyed; Garunda Te and I collected over a hundred scarabs to pay for enough fuel to ensure we can help save it. That is not enough for you?"
"Furthermore, Prince Tricky informed me that you were trying to steal from this lad's dwelling." Garunda Te pointingly stated. "He warned you away, did he not?" I turned my gaze to the shopkeeper.
"You tried stealing from me, dickhead?" I snapped; locking the slimy little thief with a withering glare. If looks could kill I would have burned him to the ground right there and then, though a sharp thought from Krystal stopped me from indulging in a sudden impulse to introduce Sauria to the novel conflict resolution method known as pistolwhipping.
Shabunga hissed at me, his beady, dark eyes regarding me coldly. "You didn't mark anything as yours, outsider! Everything in that dwelling can be salvaged. I have the right…"
"Enough!" Garunda's voice bellowed. "As Gatekeeper of the Snowhorn Tribe, I am invoking my authority in this matter. You steal from the outsider's dwelling at your own peril, shopkeeper. I am sure that he and his companion will take severe umbrage to any further intrusions."
The Snowhorn's interjection shocked the shady shopkeeper into silence; without being interrupted the mammoth continued. "You will provide enough fuel cells to fill their shuttle for the payment we have provided, as an apology to these outsiders. I will brook no argument from you regarding such. Do I make myself clear, Shabunga?"
He paused for a moment; a begrudging tone seeping into his voice. "Yes, Gatekeeper." He motioned to the two of us. "Come, outsiders." He spat. "Claim your prize and get out."
It was dark as we finished loading the fuel cells into the shuttle. Instead of the glowing, buzzing orbs as shown in the game, they looked like nuclear fuel rods packaged in very sturdy modular cases, each with very specific warnings regarding their care and handling. Even with Garunda's help they were a bit unwieldy, heavy, and unnerving to handle. However, Krystal seemed to have enough inherited knowledge from her ordeal to know what to do to them. We stood in the engine room on the lower deck, removing one of the depleted units from the drive core to be replaced by one of several fresh units we obtained from Shabunga.
"So, how long should these things last?" I asked, gritting my teeth as I steeled myself to pick one of the fuel cells up. It must've weighed about eighty pounds.
"I'm not sure, che." Krys grunted as she picked up one of the spent bundles; placing it in a special storage container meant for the purpose. "This ship managed to make it to Cerinia and Sauria on these cells, so I think we won't need to refuel for a while." She smiled softly; motioning to the now-empty port this particular cell was destined to occupy. "Ready?"
"Yeah." I hefted the pig-heavy bastard; it wasn't quite as bad as hoisting a transmission but it wasn't far off. I was somewhat out of shape and out of practice; that and while I moved gearboxes around on an occasional basis I wasn't trying to lift them to shoulder height. With a grunt of my own I lifted the cell and somehow managed to slide it into the empty port without breaking my back or dropping the shielded, radioactive contents. "Christ, that sucker's heavy." I grimaced. "How many more, hon?"
"Three." She winced in sympathy as she opened the next compartment. All in all it took us about ten minutes to replace the rest of the power cells; struggling with the hefty objects. Nobody said it would be easy, though I figured this was a job that didn't have to happen too often. By the end of the operation the ship was nearly full of fuel and ready to reach the orbiting chunk of Sauria where we would find both the Spellstone and the wreckage of the two ships we detected earlier.
"Okay, I think it's time for a break." I took a few deep breaths and gestured upwards. "Have you eaten yet, foxy?" I was feeling somewhat peckish, especially after realizing we hadn't really eaten today. The earlier excitement with that mind collar and the revelations from the ship's computer had pushed some of that aside.
Krystal shook her head, another smile tugging at her lips. "What did you have in mind?" I took that as the cue to lead the way; leaving the engine room behind for the far more comfortable environs of the living area. While I hadn't completely littered the place with my transferred belongings the space was significantly less spartan than before. The mixture of electronics, gear, clothing, firearms and food added to the clutter, though most of it would serve a good use. She surveyed the area with an amused grin, taking stock of the eclectic mixture. "You were definitely thorough in your search, dearheart."
I nodded. "Some of it might be frivolous, but I didn't want this to either be destroyed by Sharpclaw or stolen by Shabunga. If I can find out a way to adapt my equipment to run on these outlets, I can probably get this entertainment system going." I pointed to my recovered TV and associated equipment which I had tucked across from the couch. "Movie nights are a bit more enjoyable when watching on something other than a tiny tablet and tinny speakers." I winked, grasping her hand as I led her to the kitchenette.
"I look forward to that, my che." She grinned; letting go of my hand to sweep me into a tight embrace. The fact we were alone wasn't lost on me, and I had to admit the smooth, cool texture of her flightsuit was a nice tactile distraction as I wrapped my arms around her waist. "We won't leave until the morning, and it was decided that Prince Tricky would stay here until we return with the Spellstone. It's just us." The connotations of that weren't lost on me.
"We should get something to eat first, hon." I smiled, leaning forward to place my lips to hers. She responded with a soft purr; our intimate act drawing out into a deeper kiss. The sensations were still electric despite becoming more familiar; we were getting used to the differences between us and somehow making it work wonderfully well.
She was the first to break the kiss; her lips still brushing against mine as she spoke. "I haven't tried any of your food. What would you suggest?" Her tail curled against my leg as we continued to hold each other. It was strange how comfortably I had fallen into this cycle again.
I thought for a moment; the combination of sensations coming from the vixen's fur, lips, and clothing making a not unwelcome distraction. "Well, practically everything fresh didn't survive so the majority of what I have is going to come from a can or a box. You'll have to teach me how to use the appliances here, but I think we can figure out something." I smiled as I pointed her to the stockpile I had brought.
Krystal seemed a little amazed at the things which had survived. Some of it wouldn't cook well due to the lack of milk and other fresh ingredients, but if push came to shove it was still edible. Though, something tugged at the back of my mind. "I might be able to substitute some things; condensed milk I keep for coffee when my friends are over would probably be a decent substitute for the real thing." I started gathering ingredients for something simple yet far better than cold, canned pasta.
I wasn't a chef, but I won't hesitate to point out the fact that as a long term bachelor you either learn how to be somewhat competent in the kitchen or you fall into the vicious cycle of fast food and instant ramen. I had progressed past making boxed meals palatable and had delved into cooking from scratch a few years ago; something houseguests had appreciated. However, boxed meals were still a staple of mine and I knew what to do even if I needed help to figure out the appliances.
The next half hour was part cooking and part tutorial as Krys showed me how to use a Lylatian kitchen and I showed her the finer points of Tuna Helper. By the end of it I had an understanding of how to cook via the haptic controls and flat, featureless heating plate as well as the heating module which seemed analogous to a microwave; the addition of some canned veggies, butter, and bread made a complete meal. The use of condensed milk and some of my spice rack gave the normally bland boxed meal a spicy-sweet kick; a taste combination that my companion enjoyed.
"This is likely the best meal I've had since leaving Cerinia." She stated, blinking in surprise. "This is what your people would consider common food?"
I nodded in response. "Yeah. In context, if I needed to make this for dinner and didn't have any of the ingredients, I could just go to my local supermarket, pick everything up in a few minutes and go home. It comes out to about half an hour of my time and significantly less expense than stopping by a restaurant."
"You are from a rather abundant society." Krys nodded as she attacked the plate. "We have markets, though only wealthier families and Clans can afford to regularly shop at the higher-tier markets where one can get non-preserved and fresh, high quality meats and vegetables. Those who live outside cities are ones who usually farm and hunt for their own food. Do your people do that?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Hunting is a somewhat popular pastime, though regulated to prevent overhunting. It's not something I'm into but it's not uncommon. Lots of people also turn their yards into their own personal gardens, and farming is a common occupation outside our cities; common enough to create a lot of that abundance."
Our mealtime discussion went into the finer points of the differences between Cerinian and American food availability; something that gave me an appreciation for how easy she was to talk to. I felt like I was learning as much about Cerinian life as much as she was learning about how I lived. It was a comfortable dynamic, even if it started to draw to a close once I began to wash and put away the dishes and utensils.
As I was drying the pans in preparation to put them away I felt her arms wrap around me from behind; her muzzle brushing against my shoulder. "Thank you again, my che. We should probably start preparing for tomorrow's excursion, however?"
I nodded as I finished up; setting my kitchen towel on the counter along with the pans. "That's probably a good idea. Also, if you want some different nightclothes I brought some stuff that will likely fit you." I motioned to the piles of clothes that I had set on the floor next to the bed. "Feels almost like I'm starting to move in."
A soft laugh came to the vixen's lips before I felt them trace against my neck. "You won't find much complaint from me. I will take you up on that offer, however." A kiss on my cheek punctuated those words as she pulled away; as she made her way to the clothing I went for the scattered firearms and parts that I had set near the couch.
I caught a glimpse of my Cerinian partner sliding her flightsuit off; trying not to be too distracted as I started the process of making a quick inventory of weapons and ammunition before looking at the parts my uncle had left behind. I hadn't been thorough in my earlier search; the duffel bag my uncle had stashed within the safe contained among its spare parts a shorter barrel and magazine tube extension that would work for my Remington. That brought us to two more or less combat capable shotguns. I paused for a moment as I reached the bottom of the bag; spotting several heavy plastic boxes of my uncle's handloads as well as a very familiar wooden box, which I opened. I sat there in mute surprise at the contents as I felt Krystal sit down next to me.
I glanced over to see her wearing one of my band T-shirts from my concert days. I had mistakenly bought a double-X when I saw VNV Nation a few years back; it was a bit big for me but made a suitable nightshirt for her. It was a simple ensemble, but she made it look quite cute. "What's that?" She asked, pointing to the handgun I had revealed.
"My uncle's old competition revolver. While he was in the military he did a lot of sport shooting; mainly silhouette competition. That's a sport where steel outlines of common game animals are shot at long distances; between fifty and two-hundred meters for handguns like these."
The vixen eyed the wheelgun appraisingly. "If I may?" I nodded at her; after which she removed the old S&W from its box. She balanced it in her hands; without any prompting she found the cylinder release and opened it. "To be candid, if it wasn't for my ability to read your surface thoughts I would find most of these weapons very hard to use. For someone used to a blaster, these automatics may prove a challenge to use under duress without significant training. The… recoil generated by these weapons would be considered quite excessive by Lylatian standards."
"I hate to say this, but if most Lylatians would consider the recoil of a nine-millimeter excessive they're going to absolutely hate a .44 Magnum. These are normally used for hunting dangerous game as well as self defense against large predators." I had fired it a few times when I went out to the range with my uncle; while I found that I could handle the recoil it was at my upper limit.
"Probably not something we want to arm that pilot with if we come across them." She took the opportunity to lean into my shoulder, a soft smile tugging at her lips despite the serious nature of our conversation. "If they don't have their blaster, the simplicity of that one would be welcomed."
I blinked. "Wouldn't a Lylatian blaster be a better choice, if the pirates have some hanging around? I figure it would also be a good time to upgrade our firepower if we got the chance." The shake of her head and the instant seriousness in her gaze indicated I was missing some crucial information.
"Most blasters have biometric encoding, che. That means if we try to use them, they either won't work for us or could also have a mechanism that delivers a stun pulse if anyone tries to use it." She winced. "We can't rely on Lylatian weaponry unless it's specifically encoded for our use, and I don't see that as a realistic possibility."
"That's a fair point." I nodded at her; pulling a couple of boxes of .44 handloads out of the bag to put into the backpack I planned to carry; setting them and my uncle's Model 29 aside. Afterwards I grabbed a handful of our dwindling .357 rounds and set them aside with the Ruger I found in John's belongings.
We spent the next several minutes going over what we expected to encounter in the Mines, especially the threat of any stranded pirates as well as the monstrous Galdon which most likely guarded the Spellstone we needed to collect. While I considered taking the Benelli the added weight wasn't going to be feasible to lug around; between the .44 and the AR15 I figured I had enough kinetic energy to bring to bear on the Galdon if it came down to that.
I stuffed the 1911 into my backpack along with its full compliment of loaded magazines; it wasn't much but it would be adequate for arming the Lylatian pilot if we found them. The Glock 34 also went on my belt; while nowhere near as powerful as the revolvers I elected to carry it was much easier to shoot. I was also able to convince Krystal to bring along the Glock 19 as well as the Taurus .357; while she had her staff I felt more comfortable if she could also dish out some lead.
The night ended with us going over everything with a fine-toothed comb; it was one thing if Krys could pick up on my surface thoughts but she needed to have a good idea on how to use the rifle and shotgun just in case she needed to. She was a very quick study, owing to the fact she could in fact read those surface thoughts. She didn't even grumble that much when it came time to load magazines and get them ready.
"I think that about does it." I motioned to what we decided to take along. "I don't know how things are going to end up, but I think we're as prepared as we're going to get."
I felt her arms wind around me in a tight embrace; her muzzle seeking my shoulder as a soft whisper came to my ears. "We will pass this trial, my che. I have faith and confidence in us."
I nodded against her; just content to hold on for a little bit longer. "I just want us to make it out of this in one piece. Things are likely going to get much more dangerous going forward."
A serious expression broke through her relaxation. "It will," she replied. "However, I believe we are better prepared to face that danger. We should get some rest, my che." She turned that suggestion into action by standing; gently tugging my arm in a not so subtle invitation to join her.
Wordlessly I followed her, my mind swimming in thoughts and doubts as to what lay ahead. Those were silenced by the sensation of her arms winding around me and her cheek pressed against mine. Sleep claimed me quickly after that.
