"Fools' Errands"

[Stripe]

GREAT story!! Poor Aura!
Would L-O-V-E to see her stab that *s.o.b* Yax with a chunk of glass! (But thats me)

Heh heh, you can tell you're writing's good, you got characters your readers love to hate!

I hate cliffhangers, you gotta write more, don't leave us like this!

[Teal]

In an incredible feat of creative genius (well, not quite, but that's what I'm calling it) I've managed to write another little chunk. Woo.

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    Six

    The baths attendant was a very old female mudokon who went by the name of May. The females of any species, particularly the “normal looking” sterile ones, were hugely rare in natural situations, but every now and then one turned up, and Management considered them to be akin to gold dust. This elderly lady had seen a lot, Yaaren knew, a lot of things she’d have never have wanted to see through choice, but she was still apparently as well-balanced and gentle as she’d ever been.
    She greeted him with a sad smile, and patted his arm. “I got your bath ready,” she said, pushing a bundle of incongruously fluffy white laundry into his hands. “I saw you in the ring, and guessed you’d want it.”
    He managed a smile, although it was more of a bared-teeth snarl at this stage. “Thank you,” he chewed the civility out through gritted teeth; he might be in a foul mood but there was no point in taking it out on the poor creature, she had nothing to do with it and he ought to thank her for the bath, somehow…
    “They changed your stimulant again?” she asked, unlocking the door – she’d learned to recognise the signs of sudden unannounced changes, by now, usually by a dramatic souring of a normally pretty sweet temper, for a fighter.
    “Yes,” he gritted the words out. “This one didn’t help me fight, just made me antsy. And I nearly killed Arrun because of it, the cheeky bugger.”
    A chuckle. “Well, sometimes he deserves it,” she acknowledged, wryly, stepping aside to let him past. “I wondered why he came in looking so battered, earlier…”
    Yaaren just grunted.
    “Well, enjoy your bath, dear,” she knew when not to push his temper. “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed…” She pulled the door closed, its hinges giving a soft creak of protest at their long-term lack of oiling.
    Yaaren plonked his bundle of laundry down on the little stone table inside the door, and stretched his shoulders, irritatedly scratched his neck where grime was making it itch, and surveyed the little room. This was “his” bathroom, for all useful purposes; not even Yax used it, but then Yax wasn’t the bathing sort, he usually just wandered round dirty – said it made him look more intimidating – in comparison to the rest of his brethren who by far preferred to be clean even if their morals were usually rather lacking. One of his few perks for being so-called “Head Gladiator”, he didn’t have to fight the others for bathing rights.
    This bathroom was a pretty austere affair, compared to the opulent luxury of the hotel suites in the upper floors of the West Wing, but it was luxurious in comparison with the amenities back in the Pit. The bath itself was set down into the floor; long and wide, a shallow set of steps leading into it, it would probably be comfortable for around three individuals to use at the same time. Heating elements were set into the stone surrounding it, although they were switched off now –an added safety feature ensured they both couldn’t be used to heat the water to anything other than tolerable, and also couldn’t be switched on when there was someone in the bath. He recalled in some distant portion of his mind one Junior Executive had been murdered rather nastily in his bath (“boiled alive like a shellfish”, reports said), prompting the changes.
    Curls of steam wisped up off the crystal surface into the still-cool air, the heaters not yet having taken all the comparative chill from it; the water certainly looked inviting… He found that, in spite of all his ‘histrionics’, the potential for getting cleaned up and feeling better was rather appealing. He stripped off his armour and underclothes, wincing as his overtaxed muscles complained, and stepped into the water; the heat prompted a tight hiss, but it was just a bit hot, that was all, a bit hot, it’d cool down… And it was preferential to that horrible antsy feeling any day.
    He sighed and sank down under the water, stretching out his legs and toes, tipping his head back against the cool porcelain; the heat distracted his mind and took some of the unbearable unscratchable itchiness away. May had dosed the waters with her own blend of oils and mineral salts, as well; he could smell the faint metallic tang in the air. He forced himself to relax as best he could, and let May’s concoction do its work; it’d help sweat some of the drugs out of his skin, and relax out some of the knots in his muscles…

    Aura had just finished her own bathing when the door creaked; she froze, halfway across the floor towards her bunk, and watched it swing inwards. Her visitor was someone she’d never seen in the flesh before, and yet she knew who he was and what he was capable of mainly from his photographs – usually on dramatic adverts in the newspapers. ‘Nexus’, the head Gladiator, vicious and brutal, fully capable of atrocious acts of cruelty worse than she thought she could even dream up…
    While the creature in her doorway looked at least superficially like this ‘Nexus’, however, it was almost like this was a twin. His feathers were slick and wet – apparently on his way back from the baths – and he was swathed in towelling, looking surprisingly non-aggressive. Surely couldn’t be the same one… and yet she thought it highly unlikely there’d be two hybrids looking like the posters. And where there was no white fabric, she could see old scars decorating his slim legs, the two barbs adorning the tip of his long tail, the surgical steel claws on his feet… And there was a telltale flash of a pale green scar across the skin surrounding his left eye.
    What did he want? Surely he wasn’t here to… no, no, she’d already been visited, although it was only a quick stop tonight, and the two lads were surprisingly gentle with her, for once. And she was sure they’d said he wasn’t interested in females? Possibly a malicious rumour, but it seemed to fit with why she’d never seen him… She crawled backward and under the bed, a soft whine in her throat.
    “It’s all right,” he said, softly, leaning against the door and tipping his head back, touching the back of his skull to the cool metal. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want someone to talk to for a while, if that’s all right with you.”
    “Talk?” came the question from beneath the bed, a soft querulous whine.
    “Yeah. To save me from killing anyone.”
    “Oh…”
    He caught the increase in fright in her voice, and realised it had probably not been the best thing to say. “That is,” he hastily clarified, “to save me from killing Arrun. Or any other similarly cheeky bastards who want to try their luck.”
    “Oh,” she didn’t sound particularly satisfied by the answer, and repeated “oh” just as though it’d somehow make everything better in her mind, which it didn’t. “You’re, ah, that is… you’re Nexus, right?” she asked, frustrated by how her voice had turned into a frightened squeak but unable to persuade it to do anything else.
    “Yes, that’s right,” he confirmed, opening his eyes and starting at the ceiling. “I prefer ‘Yaaren’, though. Nexus is just a stage-name, and… well, I’d rather not be reminded about my job in every waking moment.”
    He still hadn’t moved from the door, yet, Aura noticed – she could just see his feet, where the valance didn’t quite meet the floor. She’d noticed that he was a lot softer spoken than most of the staff, and his accent (what he had of one) wasn’t as harsh; if you ignored the “colourful adjectives,” he sounded more like the muds back home – which in some obscure way reassured her.
    “I’m guessing you’re Aurora,” he commented, settling down on the floor, and leaning back against the bed. “At least, that’s what I can make out of the sign on the door. Someone needs to teach the guards to write better.”
    “Uh, yeah,” by some supreme effort she managed to get her squeaking voice under control, although it still strangled a little in the back of the throat. “Most just use ‘Aura’, though. When they’re not calling me other names.” Daringly, she poked her nose out from under the valance to watch him; she kept herself up the far end by the wall, but it was a start.
    “So, um…” she decided she’d better get it into the open now rather than later. “Why haven’t I ever seen you here before?”
    He smiled tightly down at her. “Rape isn’t part of my agenda,” he replied, solemnly. “Yes, there’s a lot of rumours about me flying around, but most if not all of them aren’t true. The other lads have probably all took great delight in telling you I didn’t like females.”
    She nodded, tightly. “Well, not in so many words, but that was the general feeling…”
    He rolled his eyes and nodded. “As you’ve probably guessed by now I don’t have a lot of fans among the rest of the Gladiatorial staff,” he said, dryly.

[Native Poser]

Awsome stuff Teal! Your very talented..

[Stripe]

You've just made my day/night!
Except......

Now I -really- gotta know what happens next!

*chews fingernails*

Great job!

[Teal]

My PC is annoying me, now. It keeps sticking, and has just reassigned "tab" to switch between windows instead of actually make a tab mark on Word... *stress* I'm giving up again for now, as it's niggled at me far too much. Grah.

Oh well. It's something. More non-scenes again... geh. *must... find... something... to... have... happen...*

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    For a while, they just sat in silence; he looked comfortable enough, as though used to the silence, but Aura found herself fidgeting.
    Eventually the quiet got to her, and she decided to break the silence. “Why do you need me to talk to?” she blurted out, in a thin voice, obviously still scared but trying to hide it. “Can’t you just, you know… talk to the others…?”
    He glanced at her, and shook his head. “Not a chance; they’d report me soon as they could.”
    “Report you? Why?”
    He shrugged. “This sort of talk counts as rebellion, and rebellion gets you shot.”
    “But they wouldn’t shoot you, you’re the best… aren’t you?”
    He laughed, sourly. “And that’d pull the crowds in like nothing else,” he replied, bitterly. “The execution of the rebellious Head Gladiator! There’s nothing the public likes more than a scandal, to see someone important brought down…”
    “There’s no lost love between the staff here; everyone seems to have purely their own agenda to think about, and screw everyone else,” he went on, folding his arms – almost as though his tongue had suddenly been loosened. “And because the crowds like me, none of the others do – jealous as sin, the lot of them. I don’t care about being the best; I don’t want my reputation to precede me everywhere! But just think, if they overheard me discussing escaping with someone… they’d trot off to Management, and I’d be clapped in irons before I could get a word out in defence.”
    “They wouldn’t let you defend yourself?”
    He shook his head. “I’ve seen it happen. Last year, I think, Arrun squealed on someone – Linnit, I think - a hybrid, bit like me, all feathery on his head, but more sligish, didn’t have legs, although he was a lot scrawnier, taller. He was pretty good, too, and fast, could hold his own against some opponents for a little while even without his pants. Crowds liked him, anyway. Arrun reckoned he’d heard him talking about escaping – trying to bribe a guard into helping him get out. Of course, him and Yax and a couple of others backed him up because they didn’t like him either, bribed the guard themselves into corroborating their story. Management dragged Linnit off into the Ring and he died under a hail of bullets, didn’t stand a chance,” he sighed, then laughed, painfully. “Contrary to popular belief, even Gladiators have their limits.”
    “So what’s stopping them doing the same to you?” She asked, glancing up at him, briefly, then moved closer and flopped down on her chin next to him, satisfied he wasn’t a threat to her at the moment.
    “Management wouldn’t believe them. Linnit didn’t hide the fact he hated his job, but so far as they know, I like it here. I mean, why would I want to run if I enjoyed my job?” He shrugged one-handedly. “Of course, it’d help if I had somewhere to go. There’s not much point in just running for the hell of it… Here I have all the facilities and amenities I need, food and shelter and medical care, such as it is… Out there I’d have nothing. I don’t think I could cope very well with that, for that matter; rain and nasty bugs and other predators. Not to start with anyway.”
    “I don’t care about them,” she grumbled. “Someone left that door open I’d be gone, no questions asked. Anywhere away from here, and home if I could find it.”
    He absently stroked her shoulder. “So if they gave you the chance to get out,” he asked, softly. “Where’d you go?”
    She shivered under his gentle touch; while she was still nervous around him, the soft caress was nice. “You’re not trying to catch me out?” she asked, suspiciously. “To get me to admit something?”
    He chuckled and shook his head, patted her arm. “Management won’t shoot you, you’re valuable - which is why Melox is doing all them tests, the old sadist.”
    She swallowed. “No-one’s told me why he’s doing anything,” she replied, thinly. “I just know I don’t want him to do them. He scares me.”
    “They haven’t told you?” Yaaren winced. “Ah. Maybe I shouldn’t have said.”
    “So why ARE they doing it?” she demanded, sitting up onto her elbows.
    He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I suppose I’m just not used to talking to anyone - not in a civil manner, anyway, all the others do is fling insults round…” he slid his gaze sideways, looked at her for a second. “You’re fertile, aren’t you?”
    Aura felt her heart shrink. “Oh…” Her brain automatically filled in the rest of the sentence. After all, you won’t last forever, and they’d probably like a constant supply of small, worker females, something to keep the guards occupied and stop them taking out frustrations on the muds.
    He cast his gaze back to the floor. “So… where would you go?” he suggested, trying to take her mind off the problems he’d just cleverly brought up for her. I hate it when I put my big foot in it like that.
    “Home,” she replied, faintly.
    “Home?”
    She nodded, folding her hands against themselves. “It’s quite a way from here. A little town by a lake, out in the middle of nowhere. A lot of the deserters end up there.”
    He smiled, bitterly. “That’s the difference, you’ve got a home to go to if you escape. Here is my home.”
    “You could come stay in Khufa.”
    He chuckled, but it was a sad sound. “They wouldn’t want me there,” he said, softly. “Certainly not the Industrial ones. Not with my reputation. I’d be lynched within a week.”
    “Oh, I don’t know,” she forced a smile, but her mind was in turmoil. “You know, we, uh, we have a lot of people with bad reputations there that haven’t got lynched yet, you might be allr-”
    The dull clatter of metallic footsteps outside brought her up short, and she crawled back towards the valance round the bunk; Yaaren cocked his head towards the door, watched it as the footsteps paused, then the door creaked.
    Instead of a gladiator, like Aura had been expecting, however, it was just a guard, looking skittish and unsure of himself. “You shouldn’ be in here, Boss,” he guard, glancing round himself.
    Yaaren fixed him with a solemn glare. “And why not?”
    “Uhm, well, y’see, Management ain’t said anyone’s earned no privileges, so, uh, I’m guessin’ you ain’t neither…” he cringed under the steely look. “Please Boss, I jus’ don’t wanna get in no trouble over it, you know how they gets…”
    “It’s all right,” Yaaren unfolded his slim frame off the floor and stretched. “Me and the lady were just talking while I tried to get rid of the itchy brain. Management changed my stimulant, I thought it best I worked the itchiness off by chatting than by killing Arrun for being a silly bastard and cheeking me.”
    The slig bobbed his head, rapidly, as though trying to impress how satisfied with that answer he was. “I won’ tell ‘em you was here, Boss, nope sure not…”
    Yaaren had walked over to the doorway, by now. He smiled, showing his long fangs, leaned closer and said, softly; “Well, let’s just say if you do breathe a word of it, then I’ll introduce your face to this, and very rapidly…” he balled his fingers into a fist, and demonstrated the callused knuckles.
    “Yes boss, yes, yep, I ain’t goin’ tell no-one, nope, not me…” the guard visibly blanched, backed off and vanished.
    Yaaren waited until he could no longer hear footsteps, then glanced back down at Aura; she sat watching him with huge eyes, shivering.
    “Listen,” he tried, vaguely, and scratched his feathers. “There’s things afoot, behind the scenes here. Not sure what they are, but I don’t think Management would like them if it knew about them. Just… keep quiet about it, yeah?”
    Then he was gone as well, and the door closed with a very solid bang, leaving Aura to sit and fret and ponder over his mystifying words.

[Native Poser]

Exelent chapter Teal! Please keep it up, your very talented.

[Teal]

Aha, found the topic. Hurrah. Not a very big bit, but I'd hope things might get more interesting from now-on, rather than just lots of talking. :P

This isn't the full chapter, there's another bit I need to finish. Woo.

Edit: Argh, where'd by tabs go?

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Seven

     It was the middle of the night. Jan had been deep in a dreamless, exhausted sleep, in the room he shared with three of the other younger fighters, after another of those days where he felt he was really earning his keep – he hadn’t stopped once since breakfast – when he was roused by a vigorous shaking. “Unh… what…?” he groaned, fumbling blindly for the light-switch beside the bed. Better be good, he though, his brain feeling heavy and sluggish. If they’ve woken me up for no reason… whoever it is…
     “No, no light!” a voice hissed thinly out of the gloom, and an unseen hand batted his fingers from the switch. “It’s me, Lar. Don’ turn the light on, you’ll go give the game away.”
     Jan squinted into the darkness, and after a few seconds concentration found he could see the faint reddish glow of the electronics and the nightvision behind the slig’s mask, which was reassuring – but only slightly. Behind the slig’s shorter form he could see two further faint orange-yellow spots, sufficiently high off the ground to equate to the eyes of a Glukkon. “Uhm… what’s going on?” he whispered, faintly.
     “You wanted out, right?”
     “Well, yeah, but…”
     “Don’t tell me you changed yer mind,” that was the Glukkon’s voice – it wasn’t Parink’s drawl by a long shot, but lighter, younger. Jan guessed it must be this “Keff” he’d heard mentioned.
     “Well, no…” Jan swung his feet over the edge of the mattress. “That is, yeah, I still want out. But…”
     “But what?” Lar had already gone to the door – you could see the thin rind of sullen gingery light where the door had been pulled away from the frame.
     “Well, what about Aura? She’s the important one to get out…” Jan snatched up his belt, the one which carried his side-knife and its sheath, and buckled it around his waist.
     “Oh, don’t you worry, we’re fetching her next. We'd have got her first, but we needed the extra pair of hands, see?” Keff supplied, following on behind as the young mudokon joined the slig at the door.
     It seemed to be a well-organised escape, so far, Jan noticed – they’d even gone so far as to oil the door-hinges, so it’d swing silently instead of giving that hideous scream of rusted metal, which naturally would wake everyone in the room and probably the rest of the corridor too. That is, it was well-organised so long as all went to plan; it didn’t seem they had any contingency plans for if things went awry. Which, predictably, they did, only halfway down the silent main corridor towards the West Wing.
     They’d been making good time, down past the Gladiator accommodation and the canteens and weapons stores and what-have-you, and Keff was beginning to think that they might just be going to do it when there was a sudden tiny cold touch at the back of his neck, and he stiffened, immobile. “Uhm… lads…?” he asked, his voice thin and strangled, and the two others turned to look at him-
     Standing behind the Glukkon, with a predatory look to his stance and his side-knife held firmly in his indomitable grasp – the tip of which was currently positioned level with a useful gap between the vertebrae of Keff’s spinal column - was Yaaren; he didn’t look angry, but there was a clear suspicion in his gold eyes.
     “I don’t think I want to know what it is you three think you’re up to this early in the morning,” he spoke softly, but there was a warning in his measured tones, “because I don’t really want to be incriminated in whatever it is. But I’d like some answers, and I’d like them fast.”
     “Listen, mister Yaaren, sir…” Lar approached warily, coming around in a big arc and not really wanting to get closer than he absolutely had to. “We’re only trying to get the kids out. You know what Melox is tryin’ to do to the lass…”
     Yaaren nodded just once, but lowered the knife a fraction. “You do of course recall that ‘the lass’ is the daughter of one of the deserters you were sent out to try and find and capture,” he reminded him, darkly.
     “I ain’t forgotten. And no, I don’ know why I should feel any desire to help the kids of deserters,” he admitted. “But we’re all brothers, right? An’ I don’ want our kind pushed no further down the ladder of citizenship wi’ lasses that get kicked about like chunks o’ meat for the lads to play with.”
     For a while, silence reigned, as the Head Gladiator subjected to each of the three runaways to a long, unnerving scrutiny. Jan met his gaze with a lot more courage than he felt capable of, just waiting for Yaaren to turn nasty and cut all three down where they stood.
     But he didn’t. Instead, Yaaren backed down, apparently satisfied they were legitimate. “All right,” he accepted, and there was an almost palpable relief from the other three. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he warned, softly, sheathing his knife at his belt. “And if the four of you aren’t on a Flier in an hour, and this is all some sort of clever deception while you plot something else nefarious, I’ll kill the lot of you. I may not care much for Management here, but I don’t like being lied to. Right?”
     “Right,” Keff bobbed his head so much Lar was afraid it’d fall off; the Glukkon might not share his brethren’s ideals but he did share their foibles – and general lack of fitness and fighting ability. He’d have fallen very quickly against the Gladiator’s knife.
     “Well, go on, piss off,” Yaaren shooed them down the corridor, grumpily. “An hour, remember? Or else you won’t get so far as pleading your case to Management.”

[Teal]

Wow, I actually managed to write a bit more. Yey!

I can't believe it's been more than a year since I last posted on this. Pre-reg went faster than I realised.

Okay, so it's short. :P *grumps*

Edit: *puts the tabs in*

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     The servants walkways of the visitor’s wing were just as oppressively dark as the rest of the Arena buildings; the lights along the walls were small and dirty, dribbling out a pathetic pool of brightness that just seemed to make the hulking shadows deeper. Jan scuttled along between the two Industrials, in the vain hope that his dingy grey-green skin would blend in with the dingy grey-green stone walls, wondering how much further they’d get before one Night Patrol team or another discovered them and mowed them down where they ran, because it felt inevitable.
     “What are we going to do when we find her?” Jan asked, quietly. “We can’t very well run for it, they’d hunt us down in days.”
     Lar didn’t even spare him a backward glance. “We already ‘booked’ a flight on a Skimmer,” he explained. “That is, Mister Keff bought some security codes off of a sympathetic lad up in Guard Tower one. By the time they work out what we’s up to, we’ll be gone.”
     “You’ll pardon me when I say it doesn’t sound too safe, slig.”
     Lar clucked a dry laugh. “Spice of life, and all that,” he agreed. “We’re hoping it won’ be too important, if they spot us gone or not. We left Parink some little presents to distract his attention if’n he does see us.”
     Jan blinked and didn’t pursue the line of questioning. He didn’t think he’d like to try and find out what’d happen if things went wrong and they got caught.
     The walls had gradually changed from rough stone to whitewashed plaster as they’d run, and the lights had got brighter, crisper, cleaner… they’d obviously left the servants tunnels and were now in a more public area, and Jan silently hoped that wouldn’t mean more guards.
     “Do we know where she is?” he hissed, softly, leaning closer as the slig checked around the corner and beckoned that it was clear.
     “Got a fair idea,” Lar hissed back, loping away and leaving it to the other pair to catch him up.
     He’d halted by a door, when they finally found him. Lar gestured to them that they should stay back against the wall, then leaned slightly forwards and peeked through the narrow opening in the doorway. The light inside was subdued, a brooding, dirty yellow hue, and it was quiet – a dull, grinding silence that put Jan on edge.
     “What’s-” he started, faintly, but Lar waved his rifle irritatedly in a vaguely shushing motion and Jan decided it was best he didn’t push his luck, especially since he could see the safety was off.
     “You two stay here,” Lar hissed, at last. “I’ll go deal wi’ these two little disgraces.”

[Splat]

Wow! I started reading this story on your site and the only thing I can say is, it's great! I can't wait to read more!
The people of Khufa are really quite unlucky! But it's all great, the more I read, the more interested I get, and when they finally escape they've still gotta find "the healing"! Ah well, it's great, keep it up!

[Munch's Master]

I've read lots of your fics Teal, as I'm sure you know from that PM a while back. I've never got round to reading this cause i haven't read 'Dark' yet (the prequel to this fic for those who don't know), but when I've read that, I'll read this. Your previous works have been geat, so I have no doubt this will be when I read it. Carry on at it!

[Teal]

Heh, thanks you two. Just knowing one or two people bother reading it makes all the difference.

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     Jan glanced back at Keff – the glukkon looked severely out of breath, slumped against the wall and sucking in great laboured draughts of air, his eyes dulled and half-lidded. It didn’t surprise him – glukkons weren’t exactly known for being prime examples of fitness at the best of times, cigarettes and alcohol and exotic food and lack of exercise all taking their toll on their health.
     “You all right?” Jan asked, in a whisper, although to his shame it was more out of concern the tall creature would slow them down than out of any particular concern for his health.
     Keff nodded, once, a single convulsive jerk of his almond-shaped head. “…gimme a second…” he wheezed. “…just gotta catch… my breath…”
     Lar glanced irritably at the two still talking, then hefted his rifle and shouldered the door open. There was a squeak of alarm from inside, an odd clicking chirp that Jan recognised as a slig contact call, but then there was the sharp retort of a single gunshot and a ripple of voices – one reedy and scared, a high mudokon voice, the other Lar’s rough drawl.
     “Oh for Odd’s sake…” Keff whispered. “I didn’ realise he was going to go shooting-… go on, get in there, we won’t have much time.” He gave Jan a light shove with one handfoot. “He’ll wake the whole Odd-damned place up.”
     There was one corpse on the floor inside the doorway, the pathetic pale olive shape of a young slig that lay twisted where it had fallen, and a sharply potent mixed metallic scent of blood and gunpowder. Aura didn’t react as they came in – perhaps hadn’t even noticed them, she looked fairly… dazed. She lay on her side on the over-laundered off-white sheets, unresponsive, and Jan felt a momentary clutch of fear she was already dead – but as he watched he noticed her chest still rose and fell, and her fingertips trembled, so in spite of her begrimed, bruised condition she was at least still alive. He wanted to go closer, but didn’t fancy getting in the way of Lar’s rifle.
     The one remaining previous occupant of the room – a yellowish-skinned mudokon – had retreated against the wall, whining excuses. Jan felt himself visibly blanch; it was a youngster, certainly no older than himself and probably younger, if truth be told. He swallowed, thickly, and tried not to feel too nauseated at the thought.
     Lar advanced on the youngster, a dark expression souring his features. In the low lighting he made a hideous vision, draped in carbon armour, his cybernetics hissing softly like a nest of serpents each time he moved.
     “Don’ hurt me, oh please don’ hurt me, I never done anythin’ wrong…” the mudokon stammered, looking like he was trying to push his back through the bricks, he was pressed so hard up against it. “You mistaken me for someone else, I ain’t never hurt no-one important…!”
     “Done nothing wrong?” Lar asked, darkly. “’cept that, huh?” he gestured behind himself.
     “That…” a frown flickered across the mudokon’s features, one that suggested he didn’t know what Lar was talking about. “But… it’s just… that’s nothing, it’s just a sli-”
     Lar scowled, and put a single bullet through the mudokon’s skull before he could say anything further; the youth jerked horribly at the impact, then gave a soft exhalation and slithered down the wall, leaving an unpleasant sanguine smear all the way down.
     “Was that really necessary?” Jan demanded, bitterly, as Lar turned away and went over to Aura.
     “Loose end,” the slig replied, callously. “He’d have squeaked the instant we was out.”
     “You don’t know that…!” Jan chased, angrily.
     “Not worth the risk,” Lar disagreed. “He might not have, sure, but then there’s the risk he might have, too. He don’ tell no-one, this way.”
     “That’s unf-” Jan started to protest, but the slig interrupted.
     “Listen, kid, don’t you go an’ rag on at me about unfair,” Lar hissed, waving his rifle. “There ain’t nothing in this world what’s fair, not no more. I don’ know if you still look at your cosy little world through yer rose-tinted fluffy-Native specs, but he ain’t been brung up in the wild like what you were,” he gestured to the mudokon corpse on the floor behind. “He was Industrial through an’ through, oil in his veins and smoke addlin’ his brain. If you think for jus’ one minute he’d have kept his word an’ kept hushie while we was making a run for it, instead of rattin’ on us to the Boss and snaggin’ a little extra moolah in his pay-packet for catchin’ runaways, then you gotta grow up and grow up fast, fer fcuk’s sake.”
     Jan didn’t argue; he glared hatefully at the harsh words but knew they were bitterly close to the truth. It just… hurt. To see his brothers – to see mudokons – behaving like sligs. To see them do exactly what the hell they wanted to do, and laugh about it. It wasn’t right – certainly not coming from his spiritual and essentially good family! At least… what he had once considered a spiritual and good family. So much was wrong here, it made both his head and his heart hurt.
     “This world is cold, hard, an’ cruel,” Lar said, more softly, settling next to Aura and briefly casting his eyes over her, checking if she was well enough to be moved. “You may think you got it hard, you muds, but a fair world wouldn’ see my brothers sold off like livestock soon as we was old enough to hold a gun neither. We ain’t so different. You’d do well to remember it.”

[Munch's Master]

Cool, an update! I'm off now to read 'Dark', and as soon as I've finished that I' moving onto this! Oh and I was wondering, are you going to put these updated chapters on your site? Anyway, off to the prequel I go!
EDIT: Just finished reading Dark, all I can say is...wow. A great fi, sinister, cliffhanging (is that a word?) and quite touching. I'll say nothing more as I don't want to spoil it for any who haven't read it but, it is one of your best fics I've read, Teal. I now begin reading this fic.

[Adder]

Just after catching up (well... just before your last little bit).

I can remember some of the older characters, but I only remember "Fall From Grace"... possibly a little bit after. I missed the stories with hte Dark Energy/Force thing... and why everyone's in a coma or dead. I only remember Aalu as a kid!

Any place I can catch up on the missing tales?

[Munch's Master]

Try her site, Windchaser's, i the oddworld section. Here's the link:

http://www.windchaser.co.uk/wa/odd/odd_index.html

Some of the fics are iunfinished, but they're still good. There's my cheap plugging for her site. But nah, there's good stuff on there. Just use the 'home' link at the bottom and check What's New every so often to see if there's been an update.
EDIT: I've just got up to date with this fic so far, great stuff! Poor Aura, that suffering she was put through despitebeing so young, I hope they kill Yax! But will they ever get the 'Healing', as they've been in this gladiatorial place for some time now. I want more!

[Splat]

Fantastic! Very good update, the last bit, "we're not so different." Was fantastic, a very powerful 4 and a half words!
Keep it up, can't wait for more, I hope Aura's ok

[Teal]

I can't believe how LONG ago I started to write this. I think it was in the first year I joined OWF, which is fairly scary... *eeks*

Anyway. Just tying off loose ends on this chapter - every now and then I manage to elbow the Kiravai and Nyen and Vuls out of the way and write a little more of it, and maybe things will get moving again soon. :P

-----

     Keff turned to Jan; “Go see if there’s anything in the bathroom we could use,” he said, softly.
     “What am I looking for-?”
     “Use yer imagination,” Keff growled, softly. “Odd blessed yer with a brain, didn’ he?”
     Mildly chagrined, Jan scuttled obediently away, through the small door to the latrine facilities. He still wasn’t sure what it was that Keff was meaning, but guessed – hoped – he wanted something to clean up the scratches and bruises on Aura’s skinny body. It hadn’t escaped any of their notice that in spite of the fact Management were feeding her and looking after her fairly reasonably, she was growing skinny, gaunt-looking. Jan wasn’t sure if emotional stress did the same to sligs as it could do to mudokons, but she certainly looked smaller than last time he’d seen her. Hell, not just smaller, she looked broken since he’d last seen her, all those weeks ago; he’d kept her as uppermost in his mind as he’d been able to, and from the vibrant, vigorous, argumentative youth he’d accompanied away from Khufa she’d become a husk. Shrunken, battered, skinny, aged prematurely by abuse and bad food.
     There wasn’t much through here that was steal-able, Jan found; most was at best bolted down and at worst far too heavy, but then the room was sparse anyway, little more than the bath, the latrine, a wall-mounted heater and a tiny cupboard close to the ground. He snatched up everything that was loose and looked like it’d do – soap, painkillers, antiseptic, a reel of old bandages and a tin of plasters, and hoped it’d do. The only other cupboard was locked – it looked like a medicine cabinet, but there was something written on it in unintelligible Vykker handwriting and he doubted any contents would be helpful. He just hoped it wasn’t something they were using on Aura, because she wouldn’t be getting it shortly if it was…
     While Jan gathered supplies, Lar tended to Aura.
     Keff leaned closer to his underling, and asked, softly; “well?”
     “Alive,” Lar confirmed, quietly. “But not looking too good., ‘specially not after what she used to look like. Her mind’s probably took the worst of it.”
     “Like the last one?”
     “Yeah, boss. Mind you - least she ain’t dead.”
     Keff watched as Lar took Aura’s small hand, and checked her pulse; reedy and shocked, but it was there. “Do you think she’s, eh…”
     “No, boss, she ain’t pregnant,” Lar intuited Keff’s question. “They probably got her on hormones to keep her that way. Don’t want no unsuitable males causin’ problems before they got the breeding program up an’ runnin’, right?” He carefully eased Aurora up off the mattress, into his arms. “Hey… hey there… can you hear me, sweetheart?”
     Aura just lay there in his arms, unresisting, her head slumped backwards and her hands trailing by her sides. “Just get on with it,” she told Lar, faintly. “The sooner you get your fun, the sooner I can get some kip…” her eyelids fluttered, and her eyes closed. “Some nice sleep, all for me..”
     “Hey, c’mon, kid…” he gave her a gentle shake and her eyes reopened, briefly. “We’re here to get you out. And away. Like you wanted.”
     She managed a tired smile. “That’s what the last one what shot his rival said, an’ all… Seemed to think it was fun, seeing me get all hopeful, like that…”
     Over by the door, Keff turned his attention to Jan. “Got much?”
     The young mudokon shook his head, tightly, a bundle of tied towel slung over his shoulder. “Soap, painkillers. That’s about all there was.”
     “It’ll do. Lar?”
     “She’s okay to move,” Lar agreed, curtly, rounding the bed with her in his arms. “Here, you best take her, kid…”
     “I can’t carry her, I’ve already got-” Jan complained, briefly, but Lar had already pushed her closer and he took her anyway. “I feel like the pack-elum.”
     Lar took the bundle of towel off his shoulder, as an exchange, with a tired glare. “Happier?” he asked, darkly. “I got to be the advance guard too, remember? Can’t very well carry heavy arms and her too.”
     “All right, all right,” Keff growled and gestured toward the door. “Let’s get on. There could be any number of guards comin’ chasing after Lar’s gunshots.”
     Lar had already gone to the door. “Coast’s clear, boss,” he pointed out.
     Keff gave Jan a gentle push from one broad handfoot, toward the door. “Then let’s go.”

[Munch's Master]

*Faints with shok and ahppiness*
*Wakes up half an hour later*
Wow! An update! thank you so so so so so so much. The best bit is, I discover the update here on my birthday. Great chapter Teal, I've forgotten so much since I last read it, but I backread a bit and I've picked it up. Any chance of updating sooner if possible? Cause its been over 8 months, nearly 9, since you last updated Still, great job on updating your fic.
*Faints again*

[Adder]

Arg, I never caught up on all the odd-fic you wrote... and I had to revise this one before reading the update.

Still, great to see you're updating them still.

[Splat]

Huzzah! Lovin it! Oddly enough I was just thinking "I wish Teal would update her story" and the next day I found it! About a week later I remembered to post here!

So yay!

DOn't keep us waiting so long for the next, bit! please? Not for me, but for the fuzzle. Do it for the fuzzle...

[E'l Scrabino]

I dunno why i'm posting here, because this is roughly four years after the last post, soo, yeah, if Teal's still on the Forums, do it for the Fuzzles! Odd dammit! do it for the Odd damned Fuzzles!

[Havoc]

Scrabino...

1. Don't post in topics you think are four years old unless you have something realy usefull to say (this topic happens to be active, but you apparently didn't know that).

2. Easy on the smilies, don't spam.