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  #1  
04-18-2001, 08:50 PM
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"Snared"

This one's set after "Pru"; I know I haven't finished Pru's yet, but... Hm.

“Snared”

One

It was a muggy evening in the height of summer, and nearly everyone and everything on the continent of Mudos was suffering under the unrelenting heat. High on a rocky outcrop overlooking a busy mudokon settlement, watching the sun dip below the horizon, a solitary young female slig sat, shoulders hunched, and longed for company.
It wasn’t that no-one liked her. It wasn’t that she, Aalu, was an outcast, because of what she was; after all, The Guardians – seven renegades who took it upon themselves to protect the village from unwanted guests – were all sligs. They trotted about and chatted and just generally mingled with the mudokon residents as happily as if it was the most natural thing to do in the whole of Oddworld. And to be fair the muds did try to help her settle in, but she was finding it hard all the same…
Aalu was something of a rarity on that world – most females were the huge population generating queens, and they were few and far between, and the small, sterile workers were almost invariably male. The worker females usually either failed to develop or died as infants – something to do with their genetics. She’d been hatched in Vykkers’ Labs; they’d used a whole cocktail of chemicals to keep her stable as an embryo, to see whether it was possible to get her to reach to maturity. It had worked, as was evident by her sitting here now, but… all those noxious drugs had had an adverse affect on her emotional stability, leaving her prone to frequent bouts of depression and moods that swung like a pendulum. She was easily startled, it didn’t take much to worry her about things, and she found it excruciatingly difficult to make friends…
Skan and Jas, two of the Guardians, had rescued her from the labs when she was only a few days old. Even as an infant she’d been tricky – hating being left alone, yet nervous and jumpy and often distant…
Everyone was a little surprised at how Aalu grew up. As she’d grown from a scrawny infant to a gangling, almost out-of-proportion adolescent, most never expected her to then turn into a lean, elegant young female, willow-slender and – for a slig – quite stunning. Vykker’s genetic tinkering had given her skin a rich blue-lavender hue, and her eyes were an intense, midnight-dark cobalt blue; it was supposedly to mark her out from the general populace, although now she was mature it wasn’t really needed. Her features were more refined than those of a male; her bone structure was more delicate, her hands were longer and her arms slenderer, and her frame, although not overtly female, had a more feminine air to it.
And Skan had taken quite a shine to her, which surprised everyone even more than the way Aalu had grown up. The young male slig had quite a reputation – hard-as-nails, an expert fighter, armed with a caustic, dryly-sarcastic wit and an unstable temper, and with almost as much energy in his wiry frame as four sligs put together. It was odd and very often amusing to watch all his self-control rapidly evaporate when near her, turning him, with his lazy self-assured attitude, into a stammering bundle of nerves.
On her part, she wasn’t entirely sure whether to be pleased at the attention she was getting or nervous of the known-to-be-volatile young male… Although… at the moment he seemed to be channelling all that surplus energy into sparring with Hak. The big soldier just laughed and managed in most cases to fend him off with one hand, but the end result was that Skan was infinitely calmer, less likely to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, which lead Aalu to guess all the sparring may be for her benefit. After all, she did feel more at ease around him when she wasn’t expecting him to react violently to things… And he tried all the harder to keep his temper under a firm rein if it made her happy.
But… well, it didn’t make it any easier to feel she fitted in. Aalu sighed, faintly, and leaned her head on one hand, tiredly, propping her elbow against a rock. Now her see-sawing moods had swung back to ‘depressed’, the feelings of isolation were all the more pronounced. Right now she felt lonely, unwanted and unloved, and seeing all the activity down below – friends walking about together, helping each other with jobs, or just chatting amiably – made her long for a bit of company…
Almost as though having heard her thoughts, a hand dropped onto her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie, and a concerned face hove into view. “Aalu?”
She smiled, faintly. “Heya, Skan.”
He settled next to her and folded her free hand in his, looking worried. “Wha’s matter?”
“Oh… nothing. Nothing important.”
“Aww, come on, Aalu… yer know I don’ like seein’ yer miserable…”
She nudged his snout with hers. “I’d tell you if I knew,” she replied, softly. “I just… get like this sometimes. The world can be very heavy, especially when it feels like you’re trying to carry it on your shoulders…”
He gave her an odd little smile, “I’ll help yer carry it, if yer like…” he said, and flushed bright scarlet with embarrassment at realising how corny that sounded.
That made her laugh. She gave him a thankful smile. “Thank you, Skan. I might just take you up on that offer…”
He made a flustered noise and excused himself, before he got the chance to embarrass himself any more. She smiled and shook her head, watching as he scuttled away; yes, Skan might be a brilliant tactician, and would quite happily fight to his dying breath, but anything in which he was required to speak his feelings left him hopelessly befuddled…
The sun had set, by the time she decided to leave her hilltop, and the brilliant palette of gorgeous colours that was the sky had been replaced with a velvet blanket sprinkled with tiny diamonds. Aalu rose to her feet, and stretched, scenting the air; there was the tang of woodsmoke from the small fires she could see below, and the delicious scents of food being prepared… Night-flowering plants were beginning to open, as well, adding their own distinctive perfume to the night air.
She set off down the hill, something of a spring in her step for once. She liked walking after dark, even though it meant all her senses were alert for danger; the clean, crisp night breeze was far more refreshing than the often unbearably close, dusty daytime air, and the moonlight, falling soft on her face, was gentle on her eyes. Although she was quite a pretty little thing, and most of the mudokons didn’t mind her trotting about maskless, she still wore one, just to be on the safe side – some were very temperamental – which made her face feel suffocated and uncomfortable. The night air was like a balm to her delicate skin…
A huge arm suddenly lanced out of nowhere and caught her around the throat. She had time for one sharp squeak of fear before a massive hand pressed a damp cloth firmly over her face; she struggled, vainly… At least, until the pungent, nauseating smell made her head spin and her senses swim, and a thick blackness roared upon her, settling like a heavy blanket on her shoulders. With a faint sigh, her eyes rolled back in her skull and she went limp in the restraining arms.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
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  #2  
04-18-2001, 08:52 PM
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Two

Skan was close to panic, every last scrap of self-control completely gone, having discovered Aalu had vanished…
“We have to find her!” He panted, nipping about with sharp, panicky movements.
Jas, generally accepted as the dominant slig in the pack, caught him on one of his frantic orbits of the village. “Fer Odd’s sake, Skan, yer not goin’ ter do much good flappin’ round like that…!”
“But we have to find her…!” He wailed. “What if she’s hurt, or lost, or or or dyin’, even…!”
Jas sighed, and dealt the other a smart blow round the face. “Snap out of it!” He yelled. “Yer not goin’ ter help by flappin’ round like yer head’s been cut off! Now jus’ calm down fer a minute…!”
Skan subsided to the ground, gulping in great draughts of air, and managed a convulsive nod.
“Where d’yer last see her?” Jas asked, calmly.
Skan gathered his thoughts, tried to sort his runaway emotions back into some semblance of order. “She… was on the hill over the village. Watchin’ the sun. But she usually wanders, about now – says she likes the quiet…”
“Hm.” Jas looked thoughtful. “Well… I’ll fetch the lads. We can each take a section o’ the village… look for clues, scents, anythin’… then report back here. Sound good to yer?”
Skan nodded, mutely.
“Right. Well… you wait ‘ere, I’ll be back soon…”
Skan had no intention of sitting waiting. The second Jas was out of earshot, he was up and off to the hill, where he managed to pick up Aalu’s scent, by this time faint and difficult to discern from the other scents on the hillside. Satisfied, he put his head low to the ground, and loped off along the trail…

Bea was waiting at the meeting point instead of Skan when Jas appeared with the rest of the pack.
“Bea?” Jas frowned. “What you doin’ here…? I was sure I said I’d meet Skan here…”
She frowned. “I saw him heading off towards the outskirts of the village. As he’d waited until you’d gone to decide to leave, I guessed that something was up…”
“Yeah,” Jas groaned. “I know what he’s up to. Did yer know Aalu’s gone missin’? Well, she has, an’ we was goin’ ter go look fer her. I’ll bet yer he’s gone lookin’ fer her on his own…”

Skan loped along, head low, following the faint scent trail; slig eyesight and hearing may be pretty dreadful, but they had phenomenal noses – could trail scents that were often days old. Aalu had been this way, but there were other scents obscuring hers; stronger scents – slig scents. Male, too, one of them worryingly familiar, although he couldn’t remember for the life of him who it belonged to – maybe if he had remembered he’d have gone back for help. And the unmistakable reek of gunpowder. So the sligs were from the factory belt. There were other scents, too – scents he couldn’t identify. One he’d encountered earlier was an oddly chemical smell – it made his nose itch. Following that scent he’d found an old rag, dry by now, but it had the same awful stink of chemicals, and made his senses swim. So he’d guessed it had been soaked in some sort of highly-volatile chemical, which had anaesthetic effects when as a vapour.
Which had immediately made him worry. It all suggested Aalu had been abducted – taken by surprise and knocked out with the drugs, and carried along while she was unconscious. Which suggested Vykkers wanted her back. Which would make it all the harder to rescue her. After all, Skan was a wanted “terrorist” – all he’d actually done was let a lot of lab animals out and stolen a crawler-tank, but that didn’t have as much of a dramatic ring to it. And the only way he and Jas had managed to get Pru out of the lab that time was when they’d had the help of the rest of the pack. Jark fiddled the security systems, and Jas and Skan had got into the labs by posing as engineers. Drek masterminded the plan, relayed communications between the two groups and counterfeited the passes that allowed them access to the labs. Although Hak had been first to offer to help, he ended up being there more for moral support than anything, as he was simply too big to do anything much…
So without the pack to back me up, how am I meant to do anythin’…? he thought, dismally, losing the scent trail. If he ever managed to get into the labs, he’d sure as hell never get her out on his own… Jump that hurdle when I come ter it, he mused, casting about for the scent.

Aalu sighed, faintly, shifted her shoulders, waking up, slowly. She found herself flat on her back on the ground – it was damp, and cool – so it would be morning, then… With a yawn, she lifted one heavy eyelid, and a sudden brightness assaulted her senses; she winced and squinted until her eyes got used to the light. So… what had happened? She’d been out walking, when… something… something she couldn’t quite put her finger on… had she fainted? Her mind was full of fog, she couldn’t concentrate…
Suddenly a face hove into view – a long, narrow face, masked, with small, brilliant-red eyes. At first glance her brain automatically thought “Hak”. Then her eyes focussed, and she realised – it wasn’t him. The owner of this face was smaller – although not much; they still had the massive bulk of a Big Bro – and the stare was not the worried one that Hak often wore, but a cold, distant smoulder… And then her memory kicked in; the powerful arm round her throat, the damp rag over her face, stifling, suffocating… She shrank back, feeling her throat tighten. “Who-” her voice came out a squeak. “Who are you…?!”
The slig shrugged. “Does it matter?” he asked; his voice was different to Hak’s, as well – not the reassuring bass rumble but thinner, more nasal.
Aalu pushed herself to her feet and skittered unsteadily away from him. “Where am I?” she whimpered, faintly, searching for the scent path.
The Big Bro. caught her roughly by the upper arm and turned her round. “Yer not goin’ that way. Yer comin’ wi’ us.”
She tried vainly to pull her arm free. “Going where…?”
“Back where yer came from,” the huge soldier smiled, coolly, route-marching her along. “The bosses want their li’l lady back…”
She had to trot to keep up. “The… the bosses?” her voice had shrunk to a whisper. “I-… Please, let go of me, you’re hurting…”
He just smiled, unpleasantly, kept his grip firm on her arm, and marched her along in silence.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
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  #3  
04-18-2001, 08:53 PM
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: Apr 2001
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Three

The tank stood idling in a clearing – it was huge, armour-plated and bristling with weaponry. In spite of its having wide caterpillar treads, it had still sunk somewhat in the forest floor and churned up an ugly scar of mud through the trees.
Suddenly fearful that if she got into the vehicle she’d be lost, Aalu tore her arm free of the soldier’s grip and fled…
He yelled in fury, and put half a dozen bullets into the forest floor just in front of her, sending up a spray of old leaves. Aalu gave a whine and covered her head with her arms, but kept running… until a second slig – this one a smaller worker class soldier – stepped into her path, and she almost ran down the barrel of his gun.
“I’d stop where yer are, if I were yer, miss,” he said, calmly, as she leaped back, startled and panicked, span to find the Big Bro. approaching, a scowl on his face…
“My patience is runnin’ out wi’ yer…” he snarled, softly. “If the boss didn’t need yer an’ yer weren’t so pretty I’d skin yer wi’ my bare hands…”
She backed away. “Stay away from me,” she whispered, bumping into a rock and realising with a sense of horror that she couldn’t get away from him… “Stay away from me…!”
“Leave her alone!” a familiar voice howled, and a small greenish blur cannoned into the big soldier – both went rolling.
Skan was by far the lighter on his feet; in barely seconds he was up and in a defensive position in front of Aalu.
The Big Brother lurched back to his feet, awkwardly, and smiled savagely at seeing who his diminutive assailant was. “My my,” he said, calmly, sauntering over. “Lookie who it is. Ain’t we getting’ ter be a brave li’l sliggy, hey, Skan…?”
“You know him, Skan…?” Aalu whimpered, clutching at her friend’s upper arm.
“Only too well,” Skan growled. “Name’s Lenk. He’s nothin’ but a bully – an’ he’s turnin’ into a fat one, at that.”
“Insults as well, Skan?” Lenk sneered. “Getting’ stupid in yer old age, huh?” He folded his arms, lazily. “Yer seem ter have forgotten,” he said, striding forward, looking threatening. “Exactly why the Four was so damn scared of me.”
“We weren’t scared of you,” Skan asserted, in a hiss. “Yer were just to damned big to take on in single combat.”
“That what yer all tell yerself, hey…?”
Skan scowled and clenched his fists. “Yer came that close ter us killin’ yer, Lenk,” he whispered, hatefully, holding his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart, by way of explanation.
Lenk pulled an exaggeratedly worried-looking face. “I’m meant ter be scared now, yeah?”
Aalu could see all the muscles standing out in Skan’s throat – he was trying desperately not to let himself be baited, gritting his teeth so hard he was making his jaw ache… She put a restraining hand on his shoulder; “Don’t do anything stupid, please, Skan, please don’t be stupid…” she whispered, frantically, sensing he was losing his tenacious grip on his temper.
“You should listen to her,” Lenk jerked a thumb at Aalu. “She’s smarter than yer ever goin’ ter be,” and he smiled, lasciviously. “An’ she’s a pretty li’l thing, ain’t she? I’ll be glad when you’re outta the way…”
That was the last straw that broke the elum’s back. With a howl of “YOU KEEP YER FILTHY HANDS OFF HER!” Skan went for the huge slig’s throat.
The battle was short and ferocious and ultimately one-sided. When maddened by rage, Skan never fought well; Lenk toyed with him for a few minutes, like a cat with a mouse, until he got bored and calmly beat him senseless.
Aalu collapsed at his side. “Skan?” she grabbed his shoulders, gave him a shake, panicky. “Skan, speak to me!”
He managed a groan, which meant at least he was alive… That was small comfort for Aalu; it didn’t take specialised knowledge to see he was suffering badly – his left hand was mangled and his wiry frame mottled with ugly bruises and vicious cuts. He was struggling to cough the gathering fluid out of his lungs without actually coughing, as it jarred his ribs, three of which were fractured, and cursed weakly under his breath.
Lenk folded his arms and smirked. “I’d’ve killed yer if it weren’t fer the fact that ole’ lady Skillya wants ter see yer,” he said, with a kind of savage glee.
Skan just groaned, miserably…
A small, lean young slig with a medicase pushed past the Big Bro, giving him a brief glare and muttering “bugger off, yer stupid great bloody idiot…” and dropped down beside the pair.
“Mind out o’ the way, miss,” he said, delicately, assessing Skan’s injuries quickly by eye. Frowning, he flipped the lid of the case open and rummaged through the contents for a hypodermic.
“Will he be all right, sir?” she asked, urgently, catching the medic’s arm.
He gave her a blinding smile. “Oh, yeah, jus’ fine. Some o’ the lads back home get mauled worse than this an’ are back on duty in a coupla weeks. An’ don’ call me ‘sir’, makes me uncomfortable. I’m Xar,” he replied, locating the painkiller he was after and flicking the air out of the syringe. Then exclaimed in annoyance as his patient shifted just as he was about to administer the drug.
Skan spat out a mouthful of blood and weakly propped himself up on one elbow, holding his upper arm with one hand in a vain effort to stop the deep, painful gash on it from bleeding. “You were jealous of us, weren’t yer?” he managed, staring at Lenk with a cool smile, finally seeing the cause of the larger slig’s acrid hatred. “Jealous of our freedom, jealous of our speed and mobility, jealous o’ the fact we had friends, jealous that we had everything and yer had nothing…”
“Aw, shaddap,” Lenk muttered, uncomfortably, and booted him smartly in the ribs, prompting a whimper.
The little medic scowled and pushed him away. “I told yer to bugger off!” he barked, and with a glare Lenk lumbered away – the medical staff were the only ones, apart from management, who held any sway over the more unruly element. After all, they were the very cleverest of sligs – they had to be – and everyone had a respect – albeit a grudging one in a lot of cases – for them. Xar made a rude noise at the departing back, then turned back to Skan.
“Yer don’ half pick ‘em to scrap wi’, don’t yer?” he said, dryly, helping Skan sit then giving him the shot. “Skan, right?”
Skan nodded, weakly. “Tha’s right.”
“Thought I recognised yer,” the medic went on, cleaning up the cuts. “Yer picture’s been up in ev’ry mess hall fer weeks, now.”
“That sounds reassurin’,” Skan said, dryly, and winced as the antiseptic got into his cuts and made them sting. “Sounds like I’m on the top o’ the old lady’s shit-list, then…”
Xar laughed. “Sorry, mate; she ain’t jus’ pissed off at yer, she’s fumin’ – yer can all but see the smoke comin’ outter her ears…”
“Yer know, I’m glad yer a medic. If you were a shrink, I think I’d top myself…” Skan said, watching detachedly as the medic bandaged up the worst cuts, except the deep gash in his arm – that’d need stitches… “So, what yer here for? Jus’ come along fer the ride? Ter see all the pretty scenery?”
The other grinned. “Somethin’ like that,” he replied. “Nah, I’m here fer the lady. The bosses weren’t sure whether she’d be in a fit state ter travel. Never expected ter end up havin’ ter patch yer up.”
By now, Lenk had got fed up of waiting, and mooched back. “Stop gassin’ an’ hurry up,” he rumbled. “I want ter get at least halfway by nightfall…”
“Yeah yeah,” Xar replied, annoyedly, waving a hand in a shut-up-and-go-away gesture. “I ain’t goin’ ter patch ‘im up any quicker wi’ yer hoverin’ at my shoulder, so bugger off an’ gimme some room.”
“No – this time I ain’t bein’ pushed around by yer,” Lenk grumbled. “We need ter go, else we’re goin’ ter be even longer out ‘ere.”
“Stunnin’ logic, my brainless friend,” the medic replied, dryly, hunting for a needle. “Well, I c’n always finish this off in the tank, even though it’ll be a bit crowded…” the medic found his needle, and threaded it with the ease of long practise.
Lenk smiled, coldly. “No, yer can’t finish in the tank,” he replied, and gave Skan a nasty look. “’Cause he’s walkin’.”
“Walkin’?! In this heat…?!” Skan exclaimed, and then winced and gritted his teeth as the medic began to stitch the gash in his arm.
Lenk chuckled – unlike Hak’s infectiously deep rumble that never failed to set everyone in earshot laughing, his was a cold, nasal sound that sent a shiver down Skan’s spine. “Mebbe,” he said, his voice soft with implied menace, leaning closer. “Yer shouldn’t have picked a fight wi’ me. Then I’d be less pissed off at yer.”
“If yer don’t be quiet,” Xar barked, furiously, and waved the needle. “I’m goin’ ter stick this in yer eye! Now shuttup!”
Lenk grumbled, but shut up.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
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  #4  
04-18-2001, 08:56 PM
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: Apr 2001
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Four

In spite of Xar’s concern, Lenk still made Skan walk; not because it was too crowded on board, but because he was feeling ill-tempered towards the smaller slig, having had to suffer a load of abuse from the noisy little medic because of him.
Skan was trying valiantly to keep up in the afternoon heat. It wasn’t as blisteringly hot as it had been at midday, but the beating he’d got was telling on his system, his stride was beginning to falter, and she could very nearly see his skin getting burnt… Aalu gave him a sad look, then glanced up at Lenk.
The big soldier noted her gaze. “The answer is no,” he answered her unspoken question. “Yer can’t help him.”
She indulged in scarcely a second of internal debate – dare she risk disobedience? Silly question – if she did what he said, Skan would die. Simple as that. So she wrinkled up her face and made a rude noise, then had vaulted out of the back door before he could make a move to stop her.
She trotted over, worriedly. “Skan…?”
He looked at her out of glassy eyes. “Aalu,” he rasped. “Come to have fun in the sun too, hey…?”
She gave him a look, and seized one of his arms and slung it over her shoulders, then put an arm round his waist, to support him. “You’re going to get sick, like this,” she said, softly.
“An’ so will you,” he countered, dazedly. “Go back in…”
“Don’t be stupid,” she told him. “I’m not leaving you out here to struggle on alone.”
“Yer goin’ ter get sunburnt…”
“Look, the sun’s going down; I’ll be fine…”
“Then so will I.”
“Look, if you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you,” she said, exasperated…
By the time they halted, when the sun had finally inched below the horizon, Skan was severely sun-sick. His skin was badly burnt, and he was running a very high fever. Aalu sat by his side all night, fretting, vainly trying to take some of the heat out of his skin with damp cloths and plenty of cool water, and ensuring the fever didn’t get any worse… Morning came and Skan was still very sick, so Xar carefully got him settled into the back of the tank, in the cool. Lenk stood in the cabin and fumed – he would happily have made Skan walk again, feverish or not – but kept out of the way. He’d been threatened off by Xar – again.
At the moment, Skan was asleep – well, sedated, to be honest, but still sleeping.
“Will he be all right?” Aalu asked, faintly, carefully touching the back of her hand to Skan’s forehead and wincing – his temperature was still sky-high.
Xar nodded. “Yeah, he should make a full recovery. Seen ‘em recover from worse. Jus’ so long as we make sure we keep his fluids up, an’ try to keep the temperature down…”
And so the journey went on. Skan would wake up, every now and then, burble a bit of nonsense and then pass out again, and Aalu sat and fretted at his side. Xar had barked orders and got Skan taken down to the nearest medical facility as soon as they’d arrived; the medic may have been small – maybe not as small as Jas, but small nonetheless – but boy, did he have a voice on him! He’d have been better employed as a foghorn…

The days passed, and Skan wasn’t getting better very quickly. Delirious most of the time, they kept him under heavy sedation, and hoped for the best.
Aalu never strayed too far from his bedside, partly because she was a little scared and partly because she didn’t want anything to happen to him while she wasn’t there. The furthest she’d been away was just down the corridor to the pharmacy, to fetch new bags for his drip or medicines to bring the fever down from the dispensing assistant. She had yet to see the chemist in charge, but she was glad about that – the thought of meeting a vykker, after having heard all those horror-stories from the Guardians, always sent a chill down her spine…
Two days later, he was beginning to perk up a bit. When he woke up he appeared more in control of his senses, and didn’t ramble nonsense.
Xar looked pleased when Aalu told him. “Tha’s good – means he’s on the mend at last.”
“He said he had a headache,” Aalu studied her hands.
“Yeah? Rightio, then, I’ll give yer a script fer some painkillers…” Xar fished a pen out of his bulging pockets and rapidly squiggled something onto a pad of green paper, “…an’ yer can go pick ‘em up from Rek,” he handed her the paper with his near-illegible scrawl on it, then tucked his pen back into the pocket of his jacket and started off on his rounds.
“Rek?” Aalu questioned after him.
“Works in pills,” he replied, over his shoulder.
Oh – so Rek was the chemist, then. Damn – She’d successfully avoided having to meet him thus far…
She studied the scrap of paper and tried to make head or tail of the medic’s writing as she trotted over…
In “Pills”, two sligs were chatting amiably when she put her head round the door. “Uh – ‘scuse me? Is Rek anywhere? I’ve got a prescription from Xar…”
The taller of the two sligs, dressed in a pristine white lab coat with what seemed to be the regulation pocket full of pens, turned his head. “Oh yes? Well, let’s have it, then…”
She blinked. The pharmacist was a slig? No, couldn’t be. Couldn’t possibly be – everyone knew sligs just didn’t have the brain power for such a highly skilled job… “You’re Rek…?”
He smiled, took the scrap of green paper from her stunned hand. “That’s my name, yes – don’t wear it out…”
“But… I thought…” She stammered.
“That I’d be a vykker?” He grinned, and clipped the paper to the computer terminal, rapidly clattered in the details. “Don’t worry – most people that don’t know me think that. I’m not sure if I should feel insulted or take it as a compliment…” Rek scratched his head, throughtfully. “Xar ought to learn to write,” he commented, finishing typing, then picking out a box and studying the writing on it. “These for Skan, yes?”
Aalu nodded. “How did you know?”
“Word gets around,” he whisked a label off the printer and affixed it to the box. “And quickly, if you’ve got a gossip chain such as we have here,” he handed the box over, with a smile. “Apart from the fever, how is the little psycho these days?”
“You knew him?”
“Oh yes, I knew him. I think everyone did, near enough. We were friends a few years back, in combat school – until Vykkers’ realised I was clever, and plucked me out to get educated…” Rek grinned. “Actually, it’d be nice to see him again. I’ll come down to the ward with you. Orik, no dispensing while I’m not here.”
“Right boss,” the dispensing assistant saluted, cheekily.
Rek smiled, wryly, then followed Aalu out of the door. “So,” he said, mildly. “You must be Aalu.”
She nodded, mutely.
He smiled, gently. “You know, I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about…”
“I… sorry. Born worryer.”
They managed to get a semblance of conversation going by the time they reached the ward door.
Just as she was about to follow Rek through the door, a hand tapped her shoulder. Aalu turned, expecting to see a slig after her attention – she was used to being trailed by the males, by now. They didn’t seem to be able to help it; like was normal with the mudokons, non-queen females were rare – something about their genetics made embryos unstable – so any females that did survive to adulthood invariably attracted the interest of the males…
The owner of the face that stared back at her was no slig. The face was overly long, with sly eyes – almost like a hideously mutated mudokon.
Aalu almost leaped out of her skin. “What in the name of Odd is that?!” she shrilled, hiding behind Rek.
“Oh, it’s only an intern,” Rek replied, reassuringly. To the intern, he said, calmly; “What do you want?”
“Labs want the female,” the intern said, idly. “She’s to come with me.”
“Already? I was under the impression-” Rek started, but the intern cut in.
“Yep, already. Now you going to get out of ‘er way, or not?”
“She’s running an errand. You’ll have to wait,” Rek told him, sternly.
The intern spread his hands. “Whatever. So long as it doesn’t take long…”
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
Windchaser's Earth | deviantART gallery | Journal of endless rambling and ficbits

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  #5  
04-18-2001, 08:57 PM
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Teal
Outlaw Cutter
 
: Apr 2001
: no
: 1,193
Rep Power: 24
Teal  (10)

Five

Skan woke to the sound of medical jargon shuttling back and forth at the end of the room. He dragged his heavy eyelids open… “Wha…?” He blinked away the fuzziness in front of his eyes.
“Wha’s goin’ on…? Where’s Aalu…?” he asked, weakly, addressing the two green-and-white blurs at the end of the bed.
“Got called away by Vykker’s,” Xar’s voice informed him.
“What?!” Skan was halfway out of bed in seconds.
Xar shoved him unceremoniously flat. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere until yer lost that fever. Get some sleep.”
Skan wrinkled his snout up, worriedly. “But she might be in danger…!”
“Look, yer not goin’ ter be much help to ‘er while yer can’t hardly stand up, now, are yer? Get some sleep. An’ if yer goin’ ter persist in arguin’, mebbe I’ll introduce yer to mister needle.”
Skan subsided after that, muttering softly under his breath about the unfairness of it all.
There was soft chuckle, and a vaguely familiar voice said; “Hasn’t changed a bit…”
Skan blinked, mind working overtime in an effort to figure out the voice. “Rek?” he hazarded.
The voice laughed. “Glad to see you remember.”
“Could hardly forget the boffin, could I?” Skan laughed…

While her friends chatted and tried to hide the fact that they were worrying, Aalu stood and trembled in the middle of a sterile white laboratory, a small group of vykkers discussing and poking and examining her, as though she were just a slab of meat… she hated it. Hated it, and hated them…
She gave a faint yelp and started, violently, as someone stuck a needle sharply into her shoulder, but she was only tense for a second or two. The drug was carried swiftly round her bloodstream, all her muscles turned to jelly, and her nerves all curled their toes up and hid.
“Wha’s goin’ on…?” she managed to slur, as one of the interns nipped forward and caught her just milliseconds before she hit the floor, and hauled her into the chair, pulling restraining bands tight around her arms and torso.
“Don’t you worry,” the senior Vykker said, idly. “We’re just taking tissue samples, checking your health, and so on. Nothing to be concerned about; you won’t feel a thing,” he turned to one of his colleagues, and added, in a softer voice; “I want some spectrographic analyses done on her blood. See if those chemicals we used to keep her stable are still present, or whether females are naturally stable at this stage in development; whether it is just the foetal stage we’ve been having the problems with…”
Aalu winced, involuntarily, in spite of his assurances it wouldn’t hurt, when she saw the surgical equipment precisely laid out on the trolley a second intern was in the process of pushing into the room. Every singly piece was gleaming, brilliant steel; every point honed to terrifying sharpness, every blade polished to a wicked razor…

“Oof!” Skan exclaimed, as he landed hard on his side. After eavesdropping on the three and finding out that Skan was all but recovered, Lenk had decided that the young slig had been ‘molly-coddled’ for long enough. He’d marched him down to a small holding cell, where he’d be left to stew for a while, until Skillya demanded he be taken to her.
After slamming the barred door, the Big Bro had taken a cruel delight in taunting Skan from outside. “I wonder what Skillya’ll do ter yer, hey? Mebbe she’ll skin yer alive…”
Skan winced, but didn’t let himself be drawn; Lenk wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of him – and arguing with him would be as good an excuse as any…
Lenk leaned against the wall outside, and lit a cigarette. “I’d pay good moolah ter see it, whatever she decides…”
Skan sighed, and slumped against his wall. “Bet yer would, an’ all,” he sniffed.
Lenk laughed, coldly. “Yer been a pain in the ass fer a long time, now, Skan – nice ter see yer getting yer just desserts, at last.”
“Yer the one what needs teachin’ a lesson,” Skan mumbled, halfheartedly.
“I heard that,” Lenk rumbled.
Skan just keeled over, and lay on his side on the floor, tiredly, kicked his pants off; they felt strangely uncomfortable.
Lenk gave him a sinister, knowing look. “Wonder if Vykkers ‘ave finished wi’ yer lady-friend, yet…”
Skan jerked his head up. “What did yer say…?”
“After all,” he went on, pretending to be oblivious. “Mebbe she’d want a little, uh… ‘company’… while yer busy…”
“No… no, please don’t hurt her…” Skan said, softly, crawling to the door and resting his chin on the lowest cross-bar. “Not jus’ ter spite me… She ain’t done nothing wrong…”
Lenk laughed, nastily. “Oh, don’ be so stupid; I wouldn’ hurt her. She’s too valuable – th’ Bosses wouldn’ like it.
Skan visibly relaxed.
Lenk smirked. “Maybe have a bit o’ fun wi’ her, tho’…”
“You dare…” Skan whispered, hatefully. “An’ I’ll kill yer…”
Lenk smirked, and shrugged, drawing on the cigarette. “It’s a shame, yer know?” He said, calmly, as though they were discussing something as tame as the weather… “Yer used ter be a pretty formidable opponent. Now,” he puffed a cloud of smoke into Skan’s face, making him cough. “It seems yer had yer claws clipped…”
Skan huffed quietly, and didn’t merit the comment with an answer.
Lenk chuckled, and flicked ash into the smaller slig’s eyes. “Well, have fun. I got an appointment ter keep…”
Skan watched him leave, an ache in his heart. But what could he do? Unless he could get out… unless… He frowned, an idea quickly coalescing in his fertile mind. He sat up, and crawled to the door lock mechanism. It was electronic. Good. He knew all about these… Sharply, he tore the cover off, and began to fiddle…

Aalu sat in the room she’d been given, and fretted. The drug had begun to wear off, so she had some degree of mobility back, but she was still a prisoner, and the science team had worried her by using such words as “termination date” and “autopsy”… She stood and paced, trying to get her muscles back under her own control a little faster… Besides, pacing gave her something to think about… She wondered how Skan was. Rek had said earlier that he’d try and get down to see her, and tell her how Skan was, but there had been no word so far…
Then the door opened. Her hopeful look quickly turned into one of fear, seeing it was not Rek standing there, but Lenk… “Oh, no…” she whimpered, backing off. “No…!”
He leered at her, smugly. “Hel-lo, pretty lady,” he purred from the doorway.
Aalu still backed away, trembling in fear and already close to tears, knowing that this time there was no Skan to leap in and save her. “Please…” she begged. “Please… don’t hurt me…!”
Lenk shrugged. “I wasn’ plannin’ on hurtin’ yer…” he said, softly, looking at her with an odd, predatory expression in his eyes, stepping inside the doorway. “I wouldn’ dream o’ hurtin’ someone as pretty as yer…”
She crushed herself into the wall, shaking her head, helplessly, pleading and babbling incoherently by now, feeling the screams bubbling up in her throat. He smiled a chilling, terrifying smile, and shut the door behind him.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
Windchaser's Earth | deviantART gallery | Journal of endless rambling and ficbits

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  #6  
04-18-2001, 08:59 PM
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Teal
Outlaw Cutter
 
: Apr 2001
: no
: 1,193
Rep Power: 24
Teal  (10)

Six

Skan was busy. He’d ripped the entire wall apart in his attempts to hotwire the electronic lock on the door, but by now the door hung open… He peeked round the corner, and checked the corridor… Good, all clear… He took a deep breath, and ran…
He didn’t get very far; not knowing the layout of the complex, it took barely seconds for him to get hopelessly lost, and then one of the patrol guards almost collided with him. There was a second or two of scuffle; Skan, with far more experience, beat the guard easily, and was just about to trot off with the gun when a nasty voice spoke behind him.
“Stop where yer are,” it said. “Unless yer want a few air-holes in yer back. Drop the gun and step away from it, an’ put yer hands where I can see ‘em.”
Skan sighed, defeatedly, and did as he was told. Next second there was the sound of two pairs of mechanical footsteps, and a gun jammed into his spine; it gave him a shove. “Let’s get a move on,” the voice growled. “Boy, is the boss goin’ ter be pissed off at yer…”

Rek heard via the gossip chain that Skan had somehow escaped from his cell, but been recaptured. And he heard that Lenk was absolutely furious at having been interrupted in what he’d been doing, and had personally seen to it that the smaller slig wouldn’t do it again. Expecting the worst, the pharmacist had gone directly down to the cells, to find Skan, and give him something to hopefully relieve the pain a little…
As he’d expected, Skan had taken a beating – a severe one at that. Rek crouched next to him, and shook his head – Skan stared back, his eyes dull, glassy. Lenk had been more than thorough in ensuring that he wouldn’t escape again – not only had he taken Skan’s cybernetic limbs, he’d tied him up as well – savagely tightly.
“You don’t do things by halves, do you?” the young chemist sighed, finding a vein and giving Skan a shot of painkiller. “I reckon you must have been last in the queue when they were giving the brains out.”
“We can’t all be boffins, yer know,” Skan managed, weakly.
Rek just gave him a look, then took a scalpel to the bonds, carefully easing them from where they’d carved into his skin. Skan winced, the painkiller having not yer taken hold, but put up with it in stoic silence.
“Why in Odd’s name didn’t you go and try to hide?” Rek asked, tiredly, cleaning up the raw cuts on Skan’s lean arms.
Skan sniffed. “Cause… he told me what he was goin’ to do. Guess I… wasn’ thinkin’ straight…”
“Hm,” Rek said, frowning. “Do I want to ask what happened?”
“No,” Skan hissed sharply in pain, the antiseptic making a particularly deep wound sting.
Rek shrugged, and got on with his work.
“I’m goin’ ter kill ‘im,” Skan asserted, suddenly.
“What?”
“I said, I’m goin’ ter kill ‘im. I’ve decided. He ain’t goin’ ter get away wi’ this…”
“That’s a bit of a bold decision…”
“Not really. I told him, if he did anythin’ to Aalu, I’d…” Skan’s belligerent tone faded. He swallowed. “Wonder if she’s okay…”
“I’m sure she’s fine…” Rek said, gently, but Skan cut in.
“You don’ know what he was goin’ ter do,” he hissed.
“I… well, no, but I’m sure-”
“Yeah,” Skan jolted his arm free. “So am I,” for a second or two he just sat and scowled, then, seeing that glowering wasn’t helping, changed the subject. “I need some pants.”
“This means I can’t dissuade you from your stupid decision…?” Rek said, tiredly.
“Nope. An’ I’ll need a knife… a big, sharp, shiny f***off knife…”
Rek sighed. “I’ll see what I can do…”

Rek had fetched some pants for him; the chemist looked like he hated all this sneaking about, his narrow features were crimped with worry. And there was obviously something preying heavily on his mind, although he refused to say what it was.
Skan scrambled lightly to his feet, glad of the increased mobility again. “Can yer get Aalu out o’ the labs, d’you reckon?”
“Well…” Rek winced. “I can try… I can’t guarantee anything, but I can try… I suppose I stand more chance of success than you do, any way…” He fished around in one of those seemingly bottomless pockets. “Here,” he pushed a tiny bottle into the other slig’s hands.
Skan gave him a questioning look.
“It’s just a stimulant. I… thought you’d need a bit of help,” Rek explained, sheepishly. “Take it a short while before you need it – it has to have time to get into your system.”
Skan grinned. “If yer want ter help, I don’t suppose yer could poison the bastard, could yer?” he asked, cheekily.
“No,” Rek gave him a hurt look. “No, I couldn’t. And I don’t care if you were joking, just… don’t ask me anything like that again.”
Skan spread his hands. “Sorry. Didn’ know it was such a sore point…”
Rek shrugged. “Yeah, well…” he sighed. “I guess I’m just… a bit touchy, at the moment…” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Well… be careful. And I don’t want any half-measures, you hear? Kill the big bastard.”
Skan managed to laugh. “Big words from the eternal pacifist.”
Rek nodded. “I know. But… look, if I have to give out any more medication for any more injuries that he’s caused, I’m going to scream... So… good luck.”
Skan grinned, cheekily. “I don’t need luck,” he asserted, boldly.
Rek managed a smile in return, although it faded to nothing when the other trotted away to find a weapon. “No, Skan, you don’t need luck,” he said, softly. “You just need a bloody miracle, that’s all.”

Good to his word, Rek had managed to rescue Aalu, although Skan was at little at a loss as to how. Presumably he’d fabricated an intricate web of lies about her needing some kind of medication that she had to go with him to the Dispensary for, and was feeling pretty ashamed of himself…
She and Skan were hiding out in a small empty storage room in disused corridor system; they knew there was something of a search on, but to say it was a halfhearted one didn’t do it justice. After all, most of the residents were hoping that Skan would beat Lenk, as everyone was tired of the huge brute’s attitude…
Skan had lit a small fire, as it was bitterly cold. He glanced up at Aalu, who sat curled up across the other side of it, devoid of all the usual slig trappings – not even wearing her mask. And she was still shivering, he noticed, carefully binding the surgical blade Rek had stolen for him to a long scaffold pole he’d found somewhere, hoping the wickedly sharp blade wouldn’t cut through the wire he was using. Although she hadn’t said anything about what had happened, Skan had no doubts that it hadn’t been a pleasant experience for her…
“What are you doing?” she asked, faintly, huddled up against an old oil drum, a thin blanket round her shoulders, scared and miserable, shivering violently.
Skan got to his feet, and lightly bounced the vicious-looking spear in his hands. “I’m goin’ ter get him,” he said, calmly, checking the balance of the weapon, and sliced at invisible enemies. “I’m goin’ ter get him, an’ then I’m goin’ ter kill him.”
“But… what if you’re hurt…? Who’ll protect me then…?”
He looked at her, sadly, and lowered his spear, letting the tip rest on the ground. “I… don’ know, Aalu…” he replied, faintly, looking away. “I’ll… just have ter be careful.”
“He’s beaten you twice,” she reminded him, in a small voice. “How do you expect this time to be different…?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, softly, sitting down hard.
“Are you… are you scared of him…?”
Skan finally looked up and met her gaze. “Yeah,” he admitted. “When I worked near here… he used to piss us off, yeah, but we were never scared of him. He was jus’ loud an’ obnoxious. Since then, tho’…” he shook his head. “He’s changed. I shoulda expected it, I s’pose, as I’ve changed… But… he’s… well, he’s… he’s not just an annoyance, any more… To be frank, he’s scarin’ hell out o’ me, at the moment. But if I don’ do this… he’s a bigger tyrant than any o’ them in management…” He hung his head, shaking by now. “I can’t beat him. I know I can’t, but… I gotta try… Never know, it may… give the others a bit o’ backbone, then they can go in an’ finish ‘im off…”
Aalu crept round to where he sat, and leaned against him. “You know something? I’m scared, too,” she said, faintly. “But… well, maybe you’ll feel better in the morning…”
“Maybe,” he replied, dubiously, kicking his pants off and curling his arms round her. She tightened her grip, fractionally, as well – she was still shivering fitfully, and not just from the cold…
All the same, she drifted off to sleep quite quickly, after that, while Skan sat and worried about what he was going to do… All things considered… Rek was right, he was being a stupid fool. How did he possibly think he could beat the great brute, even with help from those pills… Eventually he managed to drift off, but his sleep was by no means peaceful – plagued by nightmares, in which he was running – from what, he didn’t know, just that it was deadly dangerous – but running, forever running, and unable to stop…
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
Windchaser's Earth | deviantART gallery | Journal of endless rambling and ficbits

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  #7  
04-18-2001, 09:03 PM
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Teal
Outlaw Cutter
 
: Apr 2001
: no
: 1,193
Rep Power: 24
Teal  (10)

Seven

The fire had died to glowing embers by the time they woke up again, early the next day. Aalu hadn’t slept very well, her sleep just as plagued by dreams as Skan’s had been, but she was feeling refreshed and a lot more pragmatic about things.
“When are you going to find him?” she asked, softly, sipping at the brackish water Skan had fetched in an old jar; it was stale and had a slightly chemical taste to it, but it was all right otherwise.
Skan looked like he was trying not to worry too much; he struck and parried and cut at invisible enemies with his spear. “Soon,” he replied. He’d taken the stimulant that Rek had given him, and was feeling bouncy, in a pretty good mood. “Whenever yer ready…”

They made it into the main corridor system without being seen, but Skan almost collided with one of the patrol guards. Startled, he swung his spear up to a fighting stance, and almost skewered the guard with it.
“Hey!” the slig leaped back. “Watch where yer proddin’ that thing…!”
Skan gave him a look. “Yer not goin’ ter arrest me…?”
“Frack, no – we all want yer ter kill the big bastard!” The guard exclaimed.
“Yer – what?” Skan frowned. “How did…?”
The guard grinned. “The gossip chain is pretty active in these parts. News gets about pretty quick. No secrets anywhere. We’re jus’ hopin’ he hasn’t heard yet…”
Skan sighed, and rubbed the back of his head, tiredly. “Everyone’s hopin’ fer a miracle,” he said, tiredly. “An’… frack, I don’ know if I can kill ’im…! He’s so bloody big…”
The other slig just shrugged. “We know yer can do it,” he said, simply. “An’ if yer can’t, well… mebbe we can finish ’im off…”
“I wouldn’ mind a potshot at the bastard,” a second slig put in, wandering up. “He got pissed off at me fer not workin’ fast enough an’ bust my arm, a couple o’ months ago.”
Quite a group had begun to gather by the time a guard sprinted down the corridor and hissed; “He’s comin’!” The pack split, everyone vanishing into the shadowed alcoves on either side of the corridor.
Aalu hid with Skan. “Be careful,” she whispered, gently squeezing his upper arm.
“I’ll do my best…” He said, and nudged her snout with his. Then smiled, tightly, feeling his heart thudding against his ribs, and whispered; “well, here goes nothin’…”
Lenk lumbered by, completely oblivious to the small number of sligs hiding in the shadows. When Skan stepped out into the corridor behind him, he still didn’t turn – assuming it was just one of the patrol soldiers. He did turn, however, when Skan called out after him, cockily; “Hey! Where d’yer think yer goin’, Fatty?”
Lenk swung his heavy head to face him. “You again,” he snarled.
Skan smiled and leaned on his spear. “Yup. Me again. Small world, ain’t it?”
“Thought yer’d have made a pretty sharp run fer it as soon as yer were out,” Lenk strode back to where Skan stood, as bold as brass.
“Naw. Had a small matter to settle, yer know…?” Skan replied, idly, hoping he looked unafraid, because he sure wasn’t feeling it…
“I got orders ter kill yer on sight, yer know,” Lenk rumbled, hefting his weapon.
Skan leaned nonchalantly on his weapon, and shrugged. “I don’ think yer goin’ ter do that, tho’. Not when yer can beat me ter a pulp first.”
Lenk frowned. “Yer confuse me, sometimes. Yer actually want yer ass kicked…?”
Skan laughed. “Yer goin’ ter have trouble kickin’ it, lardarse. I’m surprised yer can even lift yer feet off the ground.”
“Why, yer little…!”
Before the other could go for him, Skan threw down the metaphorical gauntlet. “I challenge yer.”
Yer?!” Lenk erupted in laughter. “A li’l weed like yer? I’ve given yer a kicking twice – yer really want me ter a third time…?”
“No,” Skan fixed him with a stare. “This time’s to the end.”
“The end?” Lenk stopped laughing. The little shrimp was serious.
“Yep. The bitter end. Until one o’ us kills the other. Happy?”
Lenk shrugged and aimed his gun. “This’ll be easy, then.”
“Ah ah, yer know the rules,” Skan tutted, wagging a patronising finger. “Matched opponents in unarmed fightin’, remember? I ain’t got a gun. I’m assumin’ yer know about the concept o’ “fair”…?”
Lenk made a disgusted noise. “I know about as much about fair fightin’ as yer do,” he snapped.
“Good,” Skan swung his spear, lazily. “That means I get to keep this skewer.”
“How’s that fair?”
Skan didn’t even merit that with an answer.
When cool and level-headed, Skan could fight amazingly well. He didn’t just rush in in a blind rage as he had a few days ago – that always spelt disaster for him – he measured his opponent up, looked for weak spots and checked for where he could do most damage. And he could immediately see that Lenk had two disadvantages; he was bigger and slower. Skan was smaller and infinitely more agile. Even so, the huge brute would probably do a hideous amount of damage if Skan ever stood still enough to let him get hold of him. Hell, he’d probably do a load of damage even if he didn’t get hold of him…
The two circled for a while, trading barbs, looking for a suitable opening.
Lenk swung a fist – startled, Skan vaulted backward just in time, and Lenk roared in rage and pain as the smaller slig followed with an attack of his own – and neatly sliced two of his opponent’s fingers off with the leading edge of his spear blade. Infuriated, Lenk swiped at him, and got a deep gash in the muscle of his left arm for his trouble…
And so it went on. They would circle, then one would attack, the other reciprocate, then go back to circling, fencing for a hold, looking for an opening. The crowd was growing, but it was unusually quiet. Almost all fights acquired an audience, the watchers cheering the combatants on and getting into arguments and staring new fights, but most were just over petty matters, like who bought the last round or who was being a tight bastard and not paying up what he lost in a bet. Few fights were this serious – to the death – and few were between such notorious sligs as these two; Lenk, the tyrant who everybody hated but was too scared of to do anything about; and Skan, the outcast, the traitor, one of the ‘most wanted’ – kind of an Oddworldian Robin Hood…
Skan was doing well. But he’d had forgotten one critical factor – he was still recovering from a fever. So his vast reserves of energy were severely diminished; thinking it would be just like sparring with Hak – with whom he could fight for hours – only a little more seriously, this time he got tired frighteningly quickly…
Lenk made another swipe at Skan, and clipped the side of the smaller slig’s snout. Momentarily stunned, Skan gave his head a shake, to clear it of the stars that danced in his vision, but his grip on his spear had fractionally loosened – and it was knocked out of his hand by another smart blow from that massive hand.
“Ah,” he said, backing off.
Lenk smirked, triumphantly, and backed his smaller opponent firmly up against a wall.
Skan glanced about himself, briefly, but knew it was hopeless. There was nowhere to run to avoid the crushing blow that would soon finish him off… Although he’d got some crippling blows in – he’d even taken one of Lenk’s eyes out – Skan was just too bone-tremblingly exhausted to do anything but hold his chin up in the air and bravely stare death in the eye.
The crowd had gone utterly silent. They didn’t want to see Lenk win again, especially not in a fight with who was considered to be one of the very best worker-class fighters…
The huge slig smirked, scenting victory, and sauntered closer, trailing blood from all the wounds mottling his powerful form. “Yer fought well,” he said, grudgingly, noting that although the smaller slig’s lean frame still had the bruises and the ugly marks from where the bonds has made his skin raw, he was impressively uninjured from the fighting. “But not well enough. Cause now… yer dead,” he advanced, slowly, cracking what was left of his knuckles. “An’ trust me. I ain’t goin’ ter make it quick.”
Skan swallowed, thickly, and couldn’t find the spirit to answer.
When… suddenly the huge creature lurched, violently… and stared dumbly down at the pointed, twisted sheet of savagely torn and bent metal that appeared to have grown out of his torso. Before Skan’s stunned gaze, Lenk gave one last startled grunt and collapsed.
Behind him, breathing hard and staring down at the fallen body with a kind of astounded horror, was Aalu. She lifted her gaze to meet Skan’s, by now trembling uncontrollably; he staggered over to her and caught her in his arms just as she was on the point of collapse. She clung to him like he was the last thing left in the universe.
“Did I… I mean… is he… did I… kill him?” She whimpered, her eyes going glassy.
He only just managed to nod.
She squeezed her eyes closed against the tears and leaned her head against his chest. “I didn’t mean to…” she whispered, helplessly. “I didn’t mean to, Skan…!”
He hugged her closer. “I know. Things jus’… well, sometimes things jus’ take you by surprise… It wasn’t yer fault… If yer hadn’t stepped in just then, I’d be dead – or dyin’, one o’ the two…”
“Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I know. Life’s… well, life’s like that, sometimes. Yer think yer got it all figured out, an’ it gets up an’ kicks yer in the teeth.”
There was a sudden commotion from down the corridor – two guards with stun-gas canisters appeared from round the corner, with Xar in tow. “The bosses want us ter use these!” one said, just loudly enough for the assembled sligs to hear. “So if Skan’s here he’d better look sharp an’ get out…! We can give him half a minute, an’ no more…!”
It was as though the entire audience panicked; running randomly, some fled, others fought… Skan realised it was actually carefully organised, when Xar nipped smartly through the middle.
The little medic thrust a small plastic case and a bundle of fabric into Skan’s hands and hissed; “Well, come on! Yer heard the guy – look sharp! Yer can get out if yer make a run fer it now!”
“I-…” Skan shook the fabric out – a long, dark charcoal grey cloak, perfect for hiding in shadows and sneaking unnoticed.
“Go on! Dammit, yer not on a picnic…! If they let them canisters off while yer in here, yer goin ter be really shafted. If yer run fer it now, yer stand a good chance o’ getting yerself an’ yer lady friend out in the confusion.” The little medic was already helping Aalu to her feet and sweeping a second vast cloak around her shoulders, flicking its hood over her head to hide her unnatural skin colouration. Next second and there was a low fhwhumpfh as the canisters went off; Xar glanced back over his shoulder, saw the rapidly spreading cloud advancing, and gave Skan a shove. “Go on, get outter here, yer dumb fool! I’ll cook up some story ter cover yer. So beat it!”
“Thanks, Xar,” Skan grinned, wanly, then caught Aalu’s arm, gently – and the gas cloud chased them out of the corridors.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
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  #8  
04-18-2001, 09:05 PM
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Teal
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Eight

The two sligs walked for a long while. They got out of the complex unnoticed, thanks to the gloomy corridors and the cloaks Xar had provided, but it was a very long walk home. It had taken two days to get here in the tank; admittedly one hadn’t been an entire day, but Skan had been forced to walk, and so they’d gone slower than normal…
Skan glanced sideways at Aalu; she stumbled along in a stunned silence, her usually brilliant eyes strangely dull. He shook his head, tiredly, and wished Bea was here – she’d know what to do…
But… worried as he might be, there were more important things to do, now. It would be getting dusk, soon – they needed somewhere to stop for the night. Without the formidable firepower of the tank and its crew, they wouldn’t survive long out here when it got dark and all the nightly predators emerged to hunt and feed…
But… with any luck, there’d be what he was looking for, nearby – there were usually markers at ground level… Ah, there – a white stone, clearly visible in the gathering under-tree gloom, with a heavy black paint diamond clearly marked on its upper surface. Skan glanced up at the canopy of trees; high up in the branches was the small shelter he’d been looking out for – provided for travellers caught out after dark. It was high enough to be out of reach of ground-based predators, and the door could be closed to prevent arboreal hunters getting in while the occupants slept. “Found one,” he said, glancing back at Aalu.
She just nodded, mutely, looking tired and worn.
He nudged her snout, gently. “Aw, c’mon ‘Lu… the world ain’t goin’ ter stop spinnin’, yer know…”
She just sniffed.
It was quite a climb to get to the shelter; there was an old ladder nailed to the treetrunk, but most of the rungs had rotted through, and those that were left looked as though they’d snap through at any minute. So a more than delicate step was required. Twice he slipped and once nearly fell, but eventually Skan hauled himself over the lip of the doorway and inside, checking automatically for dangers. Fortunately the hut was currently empty, and it didn’t look like anyone was using it. The floor was stone – must’ve taken an army of workers to get it up in the tree, Skan thought, absently – and in its centre was a charred surface, where fires had been lit to keep it warm. There was a flue directly above in the ceiling, to let smoke out, and two stakes driven in either side of the shallow depression, presumably for use as a spit. Over in one corner was a small selection of pottery – bowls, mostly, but a couple of jars and something vaguely resembling an Earthly amphora, too. In the other corner was a low platform; someone had heaped a thick layer of sedges on it for insulation, but they were fusty and dry by now.
First things first. He caught Aalu’s hand and helped her inside, then cleared out all the old grasses in the corner. “Yer can wait here,” he told her, sternly.
She nodded meekly, still looking like the world was about to come to a sudden violent end.
Skan gave her a wan smile, and nudged snouts. “An’ try an’ cheer up a bit,” he said, gently. “Everythin’s goin’ ter be fine…”
It took at least a good hour to get everything in order – climbing to the shelter was tricky enough as it was, without trying to carry bundles of reeds and soft grasses and jars of water at the same time. And it took another hour or so to harpoon and clean and descale and get-the-bones-out-of enough fish from the lake they’d gone past on the way to make a decent meal, by which time Skan was tired and pretty fed up. Aalu was still silent, although she’d helped prepare their supper while he went back to the lake and scrubbed his skin clean of all the fish grime and dirt and old blood…

Half an hour later, night had finally fallen. Skan looked up from feeding the branches onto the fire, and across to Aalu; he sighed faintly at his own helplessness. She still just sat there, huddled up, and just as mute as she’d been for the past few hours. Firelight sent flickering patterns across her haunted features, made her eyes look sunken, her pale features gaunt and ghostly. And she hadn’t eaten much; she’d picked at it, basically, managing some of the stock and a few bits of fish, but that was it…
Checking the fire wouldn’t go out, Skan crawled round to her. “Aalu?”
She didn’t look up.
“Aalu, look, I… know I ain’t so good at the emotional rescue, thing, but… well…” he curled an arm round her. “Y’know I don’ like yer upset…”
She sniffed; “I know,” she managed, hoarsely. “But… I…”
“Aw, Aalu…! Yer not goin’ ter change the past by mopin’ about like this!” He said, already sensing his feelings tangling him up in knots.
“I’m not moping,” she snivelled. “I’ve killed someone. And you expect me to just accept it!”
“I-… well, I don’… aw, come on, ‘Lu, if yer hadn’t killed him I’d be dead and yer’d probably be back at Vykkers. Or worse!”
She twisted round and gave him a shove, frustratedly. “You’re not helping, dammit!” she snapped, half-furiously and half-hopelessly-miserable.
“So hit me!”
Her nerves were already raw – she’d floored him with a smart smack to the side of the head before he even realised she’d moved.
Dazedly, he blinked stupidly up at her. “Tha’ was quick…” he slurred.
She couldn’t help it – he looked so stupid, she got a fit of the giggles.
He managed a dazed grin. “Does this mean yer feelin’ a bit better…?” he asked, hopefully, picking himself up.
She smiled, faintly, and replied, softly; “I… think so…” Then more decisively; “Yes, I am. Is there any stew left…?”
He laughed, watching as she put her nose in the cooking pot; her moods could be quite mercurial, at times, and he was glad it was finally one of those times – even though she was more unpredictable this way.
A yawn sneaked up on him; he hadn’t realised he was so tired. But now he thought about it… he should have expected it. He settled down in the nest of reeds, to sleep. Aalu was eating, sounding starving – and the food would do her good, may put a bit of heart back into her…
He was just dozing off when there was a soft rustle beside him… “I was cold,” Aalu said, by way of explanation, curling into his side and tucking her head below his chin, lightly twisting her tail around his.
He smiled silently at the lame excuse, and hugged her closer. “With that fire, there…?” he asked. She chuckled, and was beginning to drift off when he added, softly; “Aalu…?”
“Yes?” she replied, dreamily, looking up at him.
“I… I’m… sorry… fer puttin’ you through hell this past two weeks…” he swallowed, feeling himself drown in those deep cobalt pools.
She smiled, shyly. “Oh, don’t worry about that…” she replied, gently. “I suppose… maybe it’s taught me something.”
“It has?”
“Mmm. I’m not sure what, but…” she grinned. “Seriously, though… It’s taught me how lucky I am, that you found me.”
He flushed, and looked away. “Aw, now yer embarrassing me…”
“Well, it’s true,” she sighed. “If you hadn’t found me, I’d still be in that lab – with an amorous Lenk to contend with…”
He nudged her snout lightly with his. “So instead, yer got me.”
She giggled. “I don’t know who’s worse,” she joked.
“That’s not fair,” he replied, hurt.
She smiled, apologetically, and tucked her head under his chin. “You know I don’t mean it,” she said, and yawned.
He smiled back, dreamily. “Yeah. I know.”
Both were asleep in seconds, and dreaming of what morning would bring.

~Fin

Blee. Remind me not to write mush between my characters again...
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
Windchaser's Earth | deviantART gallery | Journal of endless rambling and ficbits

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  #9  
04-18-2001, 09:23 PM
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Danny
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: Apr 2001
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akkkk! fanfic overload! fanfic overload!

i decided to start reading fanfics again, but maybe i've jumped in at the deep end with yours.

do you just have 3? i don't mean that in a bad way, i mean, [off-topic]i only have one, but its a long one. i am planning at least one, probably two more.[/off-topic]
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  #10  
04-18-2001, 09:27 PM
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Teal
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: Apr 2001
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*smiles evilly* No, I have four so far (including the one I haven't posted yet...) and more in progress...

*laughs* sorry. I have to write, or my brain gets clogged. Then I can't think properly. I write to clear it.
__________________
Now also known as "Keaalu".
"Among the remedies which it has pleased the Almighty to give man to relieve his suffering, none is so universal and so efficaceous as opium" ~ Sydenham, (circa 1680)
Windchaser's Earth | deviantART gallery | Journal of endless rambling and ficbits

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  #11  
04-19-2001, 07:40 PM
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Danny
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: Apr 2001
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why don't you write them one at a time? i do.
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