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Chapter 9

Friendship

3 days later...

"How is he?" Jonesy asked quietly standing at the foot of the bed which held the unconscious figure of Sean, stripped to the waist and with a chest tube to prevent the lung collapsing.

"Stable, for now." Fiona replied tiredly, during the night Sean had gone into cardiac arrest and only a prompt administration of epinephrine had kept him alive. The infirmary, as they had termed it, consisted of little more than the contents of Fiona's aid bag. In a combat situation Sean would have been evacuated to a facility that was capable of handling a case like this, Fiona's job would have simply been to stabilize him, which she had done a remarkable job of so far.

"The Demon wants to speak with him." Jonesy replied, still not taking his gaze from the recumbent for of Sean.

"Well he can damn well wait until Sean's awake, or better yet he can heal him his damn self!" Fiona said with an exasperated tone. The truth was she didn't like the Demon, or as he was known to the Meechan- Lord of Nachhome. He hadn't come by the nickname Demon for just any reason. Jonesy merely nodded silently. Then with a nod to Fiona, he stepped out of the room and into the system of tunnels.

Jonesy knocked on the door of one of the highest rooms in the citadel then took a step back. The door was opened by a small drakai, only about nine feet, Jonesy's hand drifted towards his pistol almost instinctively, as it did every time he came here. The drakai however gave no sign that he had noticed the hostile move, and merely held the door open for Jonesy to slip through. The drakai in question was Forana, Loyal servant to the lord of the Citadel. Forana was an aberration among drakai. The average drakai stood about twelve feet tall and were heavily muscled. They were almost bestial, having a savage animal cunning rather than true intelligence. Forana however, was much smaller than his brethren, and was not only highly intelligent, but was also capable of using magic. Still, Jonesy had spent most of the last seven years of his life fighting and killing drakai and old habits die hardest.

The room he had entered into was a large circular room with four heavy oaken doors, one at each point of the compass. Jonesy knew that the four rooms were the entrance he had just came through, Forana's quarters, The Demon's workshop, and The Demon's quarters. In the center of the room on a slightly raised dais, was the Demon himself. The Demon was a shape shifter, Jonesy had only seen the Demon's true form once, the day the citadel had been raised, and that had been the scariest moment of his life.

The Demon would often shift his form to put visitors at ease or on edge depending on the situation. Right now he was what could be called his default form. A humanoid form ten feet tall, with skin that seemed a cross between Meechan fur and Drakai scales. Long sharp claws gripped the floor, looking like those of a bird of prey, a look only enhanced by the back canted legs. What grabbed most people's attention was the face, two gnarled horns rose from his head and extended a full foot into the air, a bestial muzzle filled with sharp teeth completed the image.

Jonesy halted at the base of the dais and threw a sharp salute, not waiting for the Demon to return it. To pay respect to the Demon, Jonesy had the choice of saluting or bowing, Gunnery Sergeant Charles Rutherford Jones, USMC bowed to no man or demon.

"Jones." The Demon said, fifty percent hissing, fifty percent purring and one hundred percent disconcerting.

"So nice of you to join us, how is our...guest." The Demon continued in that strange tone that Jonesy was sure was designed to unnerve him. Jonesy thought for a second then proceeded to pull out a pack of Red Man, open it, place it in his mouth and begin to chew thoughtfully before looking back up at the Demon.

"Well he's still unconscious, if that's what you meaning, with a tube in his chest and all that." Jonesy continued to chew loudly, something he knew that the Demon disliked.

"But, ya know he ain't dead so there's that." Jonesy looked to his left as he noticed Forana exit the door leading the Demon's workshop and walk between him to enter the door leading to his own chambers.

"Tell me Jones, we have known each other for five years, I have graciously allowed you and the humans you managed to gather to reside in my Citadel for the last four years, would you consider me a ....friend?" The Demon was suddenly saying in silky smooth tones.

Jonesy was feeling uncomfortable, though he was hiding it well. If he said no, the problems would be obvious. But if he said yes he had a suspicion that the Demon would ask him for something. Jonesy didn't like where this is going, he was going to have to be vague and evasive. This wasn't really his strong suite, but he was beginning to have a glimmering of an idea, how he could turn this to his advantage. He was going to have to play on the vagaries and various meanings of words found when humans spoke that seemed to be absent here.

"Where I come from, there's varying degrees of friendship. A friend might help you move furniture, but a real friend would help you move a body." Jonesy said slowly, testing the waters.

"Ah but I have no bodies for you to move, Jones, despite your friend making quite a few of them." The Demon always seemed to enjoy this verbal sparring, as there was a hint of humor in his voice at his own little joke.

"Yes, but where I come from, being in possession of a dead body and attempting to hide the fact is a very bad thing, it shows one friend is willing to take a significant risk to help you." Jonesy was getting slightly annoyed at the Demon and was struggling to remain calm and keep his voice level. He tried to remind himself he was talking to one of the most powerful people in the world.

"The point is, friendship can define anything from willing to die for someone to friendships simply for mutual benefit." Jonesy explained slowly, as if talking to a retarded child, who couldn't speak English very well. Then it was the Demon who was fighting back annoyance, often he wondered why he dealt with these troublesome humans.

"Yes I've heard your warrant officer often speaking of friends with benefits when talking about her life back on your world." The Demon was forcing Jonesy to lead the conversation, something he didn't like to do, and with his patience wearing thin he decided to get this over with as quick as possible.

"listen, you don't care if I think you're my friend or not, what do you want?"

"My dear Jones, you wound me. However since you mention it there is something I do want."

"Which would be..." Jonesy was thinking he might regret moving the conversation in this direction, but dammit he was sick of beating around the bush.

"I want to talk to your new friend. I feel that maybe we could be friends as well." Jonesy knew that friendship was the last thing on the Demon's mind when Sean was the question. The Demon's race did not like unknowns, and Sean was an unknown, right now he was unconscious and wouldn't affect much, but later he could be a factor. Jonesy saw an opportunity to help Sean and he leapt for it at the first chance he had.

"A friendship is usually formed on the basis of a good gesture from one party to another, since Sean is unconscious, you would have to be the one to initiate this. The best gesture of good faith would be to heal Sean. I know you could, are you not one of the most powerful Nachi users in the land?" Jonesy mentally congratulated himself on his plan, not knowing he himself had played into the Demon's.

"And then Sean would then, in turn, reciprocate such a gift, at equal or greater value to further our friendship?" The Demon responded with a satisfied grin on his face, the jaws of the trap closing. Jonesy's face fell as he realized he had just committed his new friend to the Demon. Chances were that the Demon had no real use for Sean, his race just like being in control of all the variables.

"Jones, my friend. Don't feel bad, I have been playing this game for hundreds of years, you are merely a gifted amateur. I'll look into doing something for your friend tomorrow."

Arutha sat on the edge of the bed he had been given. When they arrived they had been given into the company of a human female who seemed to be shorter than even Sean. Worse yet, she had chattered incessantly and half the time seemed to either be speaking to herself or even someone who wasn't even their! She had dragged them down into a warren of tunnels before she finally deposited them into a offshoot full of empty rooms.

Arutha considered getting up and checking on Syphis and Tara who had been quartered to the left and right of his room respectively. Just as he had decided to do this, Syphis walked in.

"Arutha, did you hear what happened to Sean?" Syphis asked breathlessly.

"I heard he was hurt, but that's it." Arutha replied.

"It's been three days and he still hasn't woken up." Syphis look on the verge of tears so Arutha led her to the edge of his bed and sat her down. He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She looked up at him with sorrow filled eyes, their lips slowly connected as they reclined onto Arutha's bed.

Suddenly there was a loud crack and Arutha and Syphis both felt themselves fall a few feet before impacting on the ground in a heap. Arutha had the wind knocked out of him as Syphis handed heavily on him. As they lay amid the shattered remains of the bed Syphis began laughing at their predicament, as soon as Arutha regained his breath he joined in as well. Off in the distance they heard the running of feet coming down the tunnel. The door floor open as Kit ran in without even bothering to know.

"I heard a crash, are you guys all right...oh." Kit trailed off as she noticed the intimate position that Arutha and Syphis were in.

"Hey, you managed to break the bed, uh... good job I guess." Kit said lamely, rubbing the back of her neck wondering whether she should leave and come back later or stick it out. Arutha and Syphis for their part hadn't move a muscle. Another set of feet was echoing down the hall.

"Hey Kit I was just talking to Jonesy and he said... oh." Fiona stopped as she stepped into the room and took in the scene before her.

"Ah well anyways...uh...Syphis you're going to start training with Nachi tomorrow. And uh Arutha you are going to either stay at the citadel and train with the militia, or you can accompany Sean on a mission when he wakes up, you will be passing through your village so think on that. Oh and we'll have a new bed sent up." With that Fiona seized hold of Kit and manhandled the smaller woman out the door all the while beating a hasty retreat. Syphis and Arutha stared after them for a few seconds, listening to them arguing as they walked farther and farther away down the hall, then with a shrug, got back to the business at hand.

The Demon sat in his workshop puzzling over the current situation and wondering how he could twist it to his advantage. Behind him Forana lurked in the shadows, waiting to assist him in any way. In front of him lying on the bench was the Kukri that Sean had used to so easily cut apart the drakai. Forana stood in the shadows not because of a taste for theatrics but rather because even from this distance he could feel the malevolent nature the blade had for his kind.

The Demon himself felt the weapons hatred for him, and as he felt it the name of the blade drifted into his mind. The humans would call it Draconex. Blades such as this were not uncommon, the Demon possessed several himself, he had even created a few. However the nature of this one was highly suspect. Over time a magical item would slowly lose its potency. This one however, was designed to be dormant until a certain person, a human no less, activated it and only then would it grow to its full potential. Alarming more so, was the fact that this blade had been created by a master smith and a master Nachi wielder, but had been fashioned into a kukri, normally Nachi weapons were swords or daggers and had a great deal of decoration on them to announce their nature.

The Demon however cared not for that, what did hold his attention as he continued his magical examination was that the kukri was nearly sentient. Sentient weapons were nearly never created, there was too much risk involved. Especially with a weapon like this, designed to kill drakai specifically, weapons such as this had the unfortunate tendency to wield their wielders, they would do anything to accomplish their goal of killing their targets, the user would grow reckless, their thoughts warped even as the weapon enhanced their bodies to best carry out their goal.

The Demon reached out his hand and placed it on the hilt to better examine it, when suddenly he felt an icy blast and a presence in his mind. The Demon sank to his knees, his form shifting wildly, yet unable to remove his hand from the hilt even if his life depended on it, which he suspected it might. Forana gave a startled squawk and moved forward to assist the Demon when a suddenly another blast of freezing air blasted out, dropping him on his side barely breathing.

The cold suddenly stopped advancing, leaving the Demon on the floor shivering but no longer convinced he was going to die. Then the presence in his mind swelled larger and the Demon was then given a series of thoughts and impressions from Draconex. It was like watching pictures through murky water, what was conveyed was hatred, every thought and feeling conveying hatred if nothing else. But there was more to it than that, yes Draconex hated him, but it would use him to kill more of his kind and drakai as well. As the Demon saw its plan and the small part he would be forced to play in it, the demon, one of the most powerful individuals on the world, couldn't help but feel pity for what Sean would have to endure. But looking down the line, the Demon could see that he would benefit from the plan the sentient weapon had, and so would Sean, if he survived.

As soon as these thoughts crossed his mind the cold sensation began to abate. The Demon felt warmth returning to his body, standing, he shifted his form to that of a large Meechan warrior and picked up the unconscious form of Forana and moved him into the small room that was Forana's. Walking back to the workshop, unconsciously avoiding looking at the weapon that now looked so normal that was simply sitting on the bench. With a sigh he walked over to it, and hesitating only for a second, picked it up. Wincing at the cold he walked out of the room, and set off to do what he had to do. The Demon slid down the tunnel silently, the best trained Meechan warrior would have had no idea of his passing. What the Demon had not counted on was a certain Marine Gunnery Sergeant.

Walking back from the long distance shooting range that he himself had set up years before, Jonesy had decided to check on Sean on the off chance that he had woken up. After all, he still had to thank Sean for the 7.62x51mm rounds. When Sean and Jonesy had separated most of Sean's things had gone with Jonesy, with Sean unconscious, Jonesy had dropped off Sean's personal belongings into the room that was set aside for him. The weapons however, had gone with Jonesy to the makeshift armory in the citadel. Cut off from all regular supplies, ammunition had started to become scarce. Fortunately they had a good amount of 5.56x45mm and .45 and even some 9mm, What they did not have was 7.62x51mm. There were only two weapons in the citadel that fired that particular bullet, Jonesy's M-14 DMR, and now Sean's M-110. In an act of gratitude, Jonesy had grabbed a box of ammo and had gone off to calibrate both rifles, his at 700 meters, and Sean's at 850 meters. Zeroing rifles was for Jonesy a very relaxing process.

As Jonesy walked down the hall, he had a sinking suspicion that someone was trying to hide from him. Slowly removing the M-110 from his shoulder and setting down the box of remaining ammo, he slid his M-14 into his hands. Stepping forward lightly and silently without sacrificing speed is a skill only a few groups obtain, such as Navy SEALs, or Marine Scout/Snipers. With practiced ease he slid down the hall towards where he thought he had heard the noise. Something up ahead was moving around near where the infirmary was. Not wanting to risk the noise, despite having just cleaned and oiled it, Jonesy kept the weapon loaded but not cocked, he was confident he would be able to deal with anyone without having to resort to that.

The Demon stood over Sean's bed, Standing over the small figure the Demon wondered how anyone so slight could possibly be such a risk. Slowly he raised Draconex and placed it into the hand of Sean and wrapped the human's hand around the hilt. Stepping back he nodded in satisfaction. The sentient weapon would bond with its wielder, and over time it would heal his wounds, by the morning he would be conscious, and by the end of the week he would probably be ready to head out. As he turned around to leave, he heard a sharp click-clack, it was an incredibly ominous sound. Facing him was Jonesy, one of his human weapons pointed right at his chest, an incredibly uncharitable expression of his face.

As soon as Jonesy realized who it was he was holding a gun on, he realized he was in a bad position. He could interrogate the Demon at gunpoint, for which the consequences would be obvious. But he didn't want to back down in front of the Demon, especially if he had done something to Sean. Luckily for him the Demon wasn't sure if a hit from a human weapon would kill him, he had seen what they did to drakai, and he knew at the very least it would hurt, and would probably bring those two other humans down on him. Raising his hands he merely sidestepped around Jonesy and left the room. Behind him, Sean stirred in his sleep, Draconex was bonding with his wielder, and there was only one of three possible outcomes for Sean regarding his role in the new relationship, Dominance, Submission, or Partnership.