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Destruction

Everything was burning. Flames licked at Brolath’s fur while smoke danced into his nose. He was nothing more than a pile of kindling waiting to be consumed.

Wood crackled and popped in the fire. The flames were growing and there was nothing that could be done.

“No...”

Brolath’s paw twitched and his ear flicked.

Another pop rang out but it was not from the flames, it was gunfire. Conventional human gunfire.

“Still alive...”

Brolath opened his eyes and sprang up on all fours, crawling away from a tree that was engulfed in flames just behind him. Blood was pouring down his forehead and his vision was disoriented, the green grass beneath him suddenly flickering back into Regulian yellow shades and then back again.

Stopping, Brolath leaned against a metal wall, wincing as his back touched it. His jacket and shirt were mostly gone, exposing a chest covered in blackened fur and burns.

Another round of gunfire off in the distance. Brolath moved his ears, trying to catch the exact tone of it but a churning in his stomach made him lean over and dry-heave onto the ground.

Must’ve hit my head…

A trail of blood ran across his lips and his licked it away.

Gun.

Brolath reached for his holster and was relieved to find it still mostly intact and carrying his pistol. He pulled it out and activated it with a whirr and a beep.

Grass rustled beyond a section of damaged wall before Brolath and the Regulian cursed himself and his gun for making noise. Brolath could not smell just who the noise belonged to, not while he felt as sick as he did, but raised his pistol regardless, aiming at the corner.

There was no time to find cover, only wait and see who would come and surprise him.

And hope that his senses allowed him to see them correctly.

Brolath’s finger squeezed on the trigger, waiting…

When the pale face of a human emerged, he almost fired, he came so close, but the human called out.

“Brolath!”

Dmitri. Brolath slackened his squeeze but kept the gun aimed.

I made a promise.

“Gun down, hands up,” Brolath growled and the human dropped his rifle immediately.

“This...” Dmitri swallowed, crouching down while keeping his arms up, “...Lupiads, they’re everywhere, they’re killing everyone!”

“Get over here, NOW!” Brolath snarled.

Looking from side to side, Dmitri quickly rushed over and keeping his head as low as possible. Once he was close enough, Brolath grabbed him by the uniform and pulled him onto the ground next to him.

Forcing the human’s cheek up against his bloody muzzle, Brolath rubbed his scent glances against his soft skin, licking up some of the blood that smeared across him in the process.

“Uh...” Dmitri froze up, “...please, don’t...”

“Lashar made me promise to do this to protect you,” Brolath whispered gently in his ear as he continued to caress the human, leaving his scent marked on him. “If the Duchy has attacked, I’m entitled to a trophy and you’re it. You’re my slave now, at least until I release you whenever all this shit is over with.”

“Lashar...asked you to do this?” the human’s eyes were watering, blood was staining his pale skin despite Brolath’s efforts at licking it off.

He would be better off as a slave, a pet for someone far stronger than him...but he should have the freedom to make that choice and I made a promise.

“Yes and paying the Emancipation Tax won’t be cheap, so sit still!” Brolath brushed his muzzle against the bottom of Dmitri’s chin.

“Where is he?”

Brolath pressed up against Dmitri’s neck and bit down with his front teeth. The human winced and went still, even his breathing slowed down.

Releasing his grip, Brolath pulled back to see an imprint of his teeth on the human’s neck. Insurance just in case the Lupiads didn’t use those big noses of theirs to check for who claimed the human.

“He’s safe,” Brolath scraped his tongue along the human’s face, cleaning up the last drops of blood he left behind on him. “Abel helped him and Asha get away.”

Abel.

Brolath blinked and looked around. The farm was unrecognizable with flaming debris everywhere. Occasionally there would be a flash of a barrel or an explosion of a grenade through the smoke, followed by the shouts of battle.

“Where’s Abel?” Brolath asked.

“After the missile hit...” Dmitri shook his head, “...it was pretty close to him, that’s all I remember before everything went to hell.”

“I was right next to him, he must be okay.”

Dmitri quietly placed his hand on the burns marking Brolath’s chest and side. The Regulian flinched, pain darting across his skin.

“Captain, is that you?”

A familiar voice called out from behind the metal cover.

“Adjunct?” Brolath called out.

“Holy shit,” Rorgh exclaimed and heavy footsteps thudded across the dirt on the other side. The Lupiad was now clad in arctic-white combat armor from head to toe, the chest-piece had the Eurasian Ducal Crest emblazoned on it. With a slight hiss, the visor covering Rorgh’s face lifted up, revealing the brown-furred Lupiad’s familiar visage.

Pressing a finger to the side of his helmet, Rorgh spoke, “We need a med-evac, severe burns, Regulian.”

“It’s been awhile,” Brolath hissed as his burns stung. “Looks like your new career is going well.”

“That’s all you have to say? You commandeered a Ducal lift-copter without telling anyone and crash-landed it in the middle of fucking nowhere!” Rorgh growled and pointed to the billowing stacks of smoke crawling out from under the ground. “We didn’t even know you were here! We just saw the smoke and the rebels and...”

Rorgh paused, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle.

“We could have killed you, you know that?” Rorgh sighed. “Why did you go alone?”

“Proclath didn’t update you? He called me.”

“No, he didn’t fucking call me, Captain!” Rorgh snarled. “Probably too busy ruling the Empire and finding new ways to shit on other aliens.”

Brolath’s throat was sore when he spoke, “Leon left me and I got a ping from Abel. My brain...was not in the right state.”

“More like your dick.”

“Yes...” Brolath shut his eyes.

Rorgh sniffed at the air, leaning in towards Dmitri, “Who’s this?”

“He’s mine,” Brolath opened his eyes and spoke firmly, “I captured him and claim him as mine.”

“Damn it, Captain, just don’t go falling in love with this one, it’s not-”

“It’s not like that,” Brolath shook his head. “He helped me track down the rebels and I agreed to claim him and emancipate him so that he’ll be immune to the law.”

“You’d do all that for a human terrorist?”

Brolath looked over at Dmitri, the frail human had lowered his head, “He made mistakes, he deserves a second chance.”

“If I can’t have a second chance,” Brolath swallowed. “At least I can give someone else one.”

Rorgh nodded.

Brolath shut his eyes, “Proclath wanted me to steal a copy for his power struggle on the Regency Council.”

“Fuck,” Rorgh leaned against the hull, causing his armor to clank. “You didn’t-”

“I destroyed it,” Brolath frowned.

The air was still. The gunfire in the background began to gradually die down as the battle came to an end.

“You could be arrested for that.”

“I know.”

“At the very least, your career...”

“The Claws got it out for Proclath, already tried to kill him once recently,” Brolath grimaced, clutching at one of his burned sides. “Got a feeling they’re not going to miss next time and then if I just keep my head down, maybe no one will look into this.”

Brolath brought his fist to his mouth and coughed, “Besides, even if he does fire me, I can always fall back on my landscape paintings.”

Rorgh smiled and with a chuckle, added, “For what it’s worth, Captain, I think you did the right thing. Even if the weapon could have been used to win the war with the fucking lizards, I wouldn’t trust Proclath with it.”

Brolath opened his mouth but caught himself just before he was about to say something. He was not sure what, but he felt an unconscious urge to say something, anything to object to his Adjunct’s slur against the Lacertans.

But in the end, what point would it serve? Brolath would only be inviting suspicion in the ever-paranoid Empire and in the end, the Lacertan Empire did start this war. A war that has killed countless and all in the name of what? Was the galaxy not big enough for the two Empires to explore without stepping on each other’s toes?

Lashar is a good person though. Other Lacertans must be the same.

It’s a shame that thought is illegal.

“Lets hope the war goes better,” Brolath sighed. His head was beginning to spin. “Otherwise I might regret it.”

“There’s no regrets to be had when acting out of integrity,” Rorgh corrected. “The bioweapon was never an option, it should have never come to anyone’s mind when it comes to war or politics. You just don’t think about it, don’t even consider it.”

“Maybe...”

Brolath nodded off for a second and when his eyes flicked back open, a duo of Sirian medics were hovering over him, both were brown and no more than five feet tall.

“The human is mine,” Brolath insisted as an IV was injected into his wrist. One of the humans held a bag attached to the tubing leading to the IV, gently squeezing it as a clear fluid siphoned downwards.

“By the way,” Rorgh’s voice called out with a distant echo. “Where’s Abel?”

“Abel...” Brolath’s eyes grew heavy and he struggled to move his lips.

Not that he had any answer to that question to begin with.