(Genesis) Chapter 6

Pride: Genesis

Chapter 6

The First Whispers

Mountains generally weren't a great place to try to land an HTHL ship, and the ruin site was no different. The closest place to put the Firecrown down had been just on the edge of the overcast. It would be a bit of a hike, but nothing to be done for it…

They gathered in the conference room before setting out. RIP Bob was gone from the wall; in its place was a small plaque. Or really a spare armor scrap haphazardly engraved by some machine tool, but whatever worked.

Here lie the remains of an innocent hydraulic line that some idiots somehow managed to destroy. IN THEIR BEDROOM.

Requiescat in pace.

Keith could guess who was responsible for that one, too.

At Jace's insistence, they were wearing the biometric wristbands. At least they really weren't so bad on their own. "You people be careful out there." He looked at Hunk, dark eyes sharp. "Even you, dumbass."

Grin. "I'm always careful, Doc."

"Stay by the comms, Gregory. We'll check in on the hour."

Nod. "Will do."

"I guess that's everything, then." Keith looked around at the others. "Let's go."

They were an intimidating mix at the moment, bristling with guns and knives and… well, backpacks. Hunk had the biggest backpack, and it was already stuffed full. "Got enough bombs?" Lance asked as they filed down the ramp.

"Never enough bombs, bro." He grinned and gave a thumbs up as Lance chuckled.

Keith moved to the head of the group. "Holgersson, you've got the map ready?"

"Yes sir." Sven unfolded the paper, looking around to get his bearings, then indicated a narrow path overgrown with some kind of scrubby vines. "That way."

"Take point. Lance, you've got our six."

"Sure, I got your six, boss." Lance stared pointedly at Keith's six with a grin that only widened as their commander blushed furiously. Flynn snickering as he fell in next to him didn't help much.

"Okay, let's move, people…"

The overcast was every bit as thick as advertised; it was almost hard to believe it was daytime. It was a bit windy, a bit chilly, and more than a bit ominous. So it didn't take long for the chatter to start.

"Beware of beasts."

"According to the warning only those with evil intent have to worry about the beasts, Lance."

"Viking, dude. I'm evil!"

"And we are probably gonna blow some stuff up…"

"And loot the place."

"Yeah, that too."

"Quiet down," Keith ordered. "We don't know who might be in the vicinity."

Lance shrugged. "Got the feeling the locals find this place dull."

"Doesn't matter. If we were seen coming down here, they might send someone to investigate." And that would ruin all their fine, if painfully underhanded, work in leaving atmosphere and reentering outside of radar coverage. They did not want to answer questions about their real mission here. "Best to be quick and quiet."

"How far is this place?" Hunk whispered after a stretch of silence. The narrow mountain paths didn't afford them much view of where they were headed.

"We have about another mile and a half to go." Sven had his eyes glued to the map, seemingly unconcerned about the shifty terrain beneath their feet as he took them left at a crossroads.

"That ain't so bad…" Hunk started to add something about the scenery, looked at the boss, and decided to shut his mouth.

Lance, on the other hand, had never been much good at keeping his mouth shut. "You know, once you've seen one mountain you've seen them all."

Oh well if someone else was taking the heat for it… "Ain't even a little true, bro. There's all kinds of mountains!"

"Rocks. It's all just rocks." That got him a look of deep disagreement from Sven, though he was following Keith's orders and staying quiet.

Hunk still wasn't. "Uh-uh. Some mountains have trees, yeah? And other ones have bushes like this place. Or rivers. Or skiing. Or secret underground military bases."

That got him a raised eyebrow from Flynn, but Lance just laughed. "And all of them have rocks!"

"What've you got against rocks?" Flynn asked. He'd personally have preferred just rocks.

Keith, relaxing a bit as they moved further without anyone coming after them, smirked. "Besides a head full of them?"

"Ha, funny," Lance snorted. "Actually I've got nothing against rocks, just prefer the air to the ground."

"Can't go wrong with rocks," Hunk agreed. "Especially the heavy metal kind."

"Well, that's a totally different kind of rock."

"The very best!"

Sven winced at the conversation. He really didn't want to even think about listening to any more of Hunk's music. And the silence around them was bothering him… the local wildlife should have been making noise. With such a large group passing through there should have been warning calls, rustling in the bushes as they ran away, something.

As the conversation wound down it seemed the others were starting to share his opinion. Lance was looking around sharply, and Flynn was moving nearly on autopilot, listening for any hint of a sound. Which led to him nearly running right over Keith as he froze.

"Kogane?"

"Shhh." He could've sworn he'd seen a flicker of movement between the jagged rocks… watching carefully, he couldn't see anything more, and waved for the others to continue. "Thought I saw something. Keep your eyes open."

"Wide open, boss." Lance kept his voice low. "Something is up."

They were moving more slowly now, ready on their weapons. Except for Hunk, anyway. He wasn't accustomed to carrying a service weapon—his old unit had worked well behind the lines—and was much more comfortable with fireworks than firearms. So he'd left his gun on the ship, and now he was regretting it. Lots. Not like he was the biggest target here, or anything.

It's just rocks. Totally just rocks.

He'd barely finished the thought when something huge and gray detached from the rocks and sprang at him, slamming him to the ground beneath a heap of tusks and claws.

"Ow!" Something had cut deep into his arm, no time to worry about what. "Dude, not cool!" Getting his bearings he shifted and kicked the big gray thing off, sending it flying back in the direction it had come from.

"What the…?"

"Fuck me."

"Do you ever think about anything else, Lance?"

"One track mind…"

At least two people shot at the thing as it went flying; by the time Hunk righted himself it was bleeding and snarling as the others trained their weapons on it. It looked like some bizarre crossbreed of boar and cheetah: a stocky black and gray feline-ish beast with thick fur and four razor sharp tusks. Oh, and it had taken two bullets and mostly just seemed mad about it. Awesome.

Then at least half a dozen more appeared from the rocks, circling around the group.

"…And fuck me again, it has friends."

"Language!" Keith snapped, sighting with his rifle; he noted Sven giving him a grateful look. Time to act like professionals. He fired near a couple of the beasts, hoping to scare them off without killing them. No need to disrupt this place any more than necessary.

"Sure thing, Captain America," Lance snorted; only Hunk snickered. He took a couple of warning shots as well, but the beasts were ignoring them… in fact the circle was tightening. And the wounded pack leader was crouching to lunge again.

Nothing to be done for it. Keith grimaced. I am not losing any of my team. "Take them out. Headshots."

"Is there any other way?" Flynn muttered, bringing up the rifle slung over his shoulder.

"You wanna be boar-cat-thing food?" Lance asked, aiming one pistol at the nearest one; he and Keith both opened fire at once, punching several neat holes through its skull. Just to be sure. Another quick burst from his other pistol took down a second one right behind it.

Flynn snorted, staring down another of the beasts through his sights. "No…" As it lunged at him he fired, taking it right through the eye and sidestepping the body as it flopped next to him. "I was asking why we'd take any other shots."

Aside from Hunk, only Sven hadn't had his gun out. He'd pulled his knife instead, and at Keith's order he stared at it for a moment and grimaced. Good heavens, he wants me to shoot? Well, if he had to. He pulled out his sidearm, aimed, and sent a glowing bolt of plasma right into the nearest beast's… leg. Fantastic.

Before he could try again, a burst from Keith's rifle took out the very annoyed boar-thing his shot hadn't slowed in the least.

Lance fired on two more, bringing one down; the other retreated, snarling from its wounds. His aim was true, obviously, but the beasts were huge and tough. And apparently very busy in bed—he was pretty sure there were actually more now than when they'd started shooting. "How many of these things are there?"

"More than I'd like," Keith growled.

Catching sight of more of the creatures lurking behind a large rock, Flynn rang a couple of bullets off it just to give them something to think about. Not that it seemed to do much; the creatures probably had no concept of firearms. Has anything ever threatened these things before? "They just keep coming."

Hunk had recovered from the shock and checked his wound—it was ugly, but not serious. And he'd had enough of standing around watching everyone else shoot. "Pit boss, cover me." He opened his pack and started digging through it, tuning out the sounds of the battle. He'd never done this under real fire before. Or under… fang? Under tusk? Whatever, he'd aced live fire drills at the Academy, it wasn't as if loud noises or adrenaline had ever bothered him. Time to put that to use.

At about the same time, the pack leader and one of the others sprang for Sven. "Shit," Lance hissed, opening up on one and taking it down. He couldn't get an angle on the other. Nor could Keith, turning to try to support.

For his part, Sven had never been so happy to be in mortal danger—okay, really he'd never been in mortal danger before—in any case he gladly dropped his sidearm and pulled his knife back out. If the boar-tahs or whatever they were wanted to waltz right into his wheelhouse, let them.

Fancy rich people hunting trips were a thing. Bored rich children there against their will learning actual hunting skills? Also a thing.

As the pack leader tackled him Sven brought the knife up, slicing its throat open in a single efficient motion… and wincing as blood spurted out all over him. Gross.

"Holgersson, you alright?" Keith asked, rushing in to cover against any follow-up attacks on their navigator.

Sven was quiet for a moment, crawling out from under the downed beast and checking himself over. His side ached a bit, but… "I think so." He picked up and holstered his sidearm—wasn't doing them any good anyway—and held his knife in a defensive position.

Another boar-tah staggered back from Lance's pistols and he tensed, watching for any more. They seemed at least a bit more wary now…

"Yo people, there's gonna be noise!"

He blinked, turning to look at Hunk, an instant before something bright and fiery shot into the air and exploded.

"What the…?"

"Cevete!"

The remaining beasts howled and snarled, backing away, and Lance's eyes widened. "I think that's working."

"Course it is!" Hunk grinned, setting off another flare. Or what had been a flare, anyway… he'd made a few quick field enhancements. The second firework exploded even brighter and louder, and most of the boar-tahs fled into the rocks as quickly as they'd appeared.

Most of them. The most injured ones, which weren't going to be retreating too fast anyway, lunged at him instead.

"…Uh oh."

Keith and Lance reacted instantly, bringing one down with careful shots to the neck and forehead. Flynn started to raise his rifle, but it was too close too fast; scowling he grabbed his sidearm and took a quick shot, blasting the other one's chest clean open.

Hunk looked up, blinking at the three of them as some blood and clumps of fur hit him. At least it wasn't his blood this time. "Dude…"

"What are you carrying?" Keith asked, looking at Flynn as he lowered his own rifle.

Lance looked over too—if there was an interesting gun in the vicinity he was there for it. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Probably." Flynn shrugged, holstering the pistol. He would be more than happy to tell them all about his guns, their guns, or pretty much any theoretical guns they might want to bring up, but this didn't seem like the proper time for it.

As if to confirm that thought, the comms crackled. "So hey, guys, I know it hasn't been an hour, but anyone wanna tell me why the fuck all your vitals just went through the roof?"

Oh wonderful. Keith looked around, making certain they were really clear. "We just had a close encounter with the local wildlife, Doc. Give us a few minutes to assess if we have injuries."

All eyes went to Sven and Hunk; they were the ones covered in blood, after all. "Ugh," Lance muttered, "that isn't pretty."

Sven checked himself over, making sure all the blood was from large angry boar-cat creatures. By some miracle, he'd made it out with no gashes or cuts, but his left side was definitely badly bruised. He wasn't about to admit it hurt. "I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises."

"Me too," Hunk agreed, checking himself over. "Don't think this even hurts all that much…" He gave the cut on his arm a poke and flinched. "Ow, okay, I lied."

"Any one of you has so much as a scratch I want to know about it," Jace snapped, and Hunk gestured for the others to please not tell the medic he had a scratch. Keith shook his head. Overprotective much? He supposed it was better than the opposite, but…

"Aww, Jace, I love you, too."

"Fuck you, McClain."

And there was the opposite.

While they were being yelled at Flynn had quietly pulled a first aid kit out of his own pack and set about treating Hunk's wound. As he finished cleaning it he looked at Sven, looked at the antiseptic wipes in his hand, and shook his head. "Not enough of these in this kit or on this planet for you, Holgersson."

Sven fought down the urge to roll his eyes, wiping some blood from his face and looking down at his shirt, which was mostly red. It had been white when they'd left the ship. "It's okay. We're fine, Jace." He considered also telling the medic to watch his language—he was rapidly getting exasperated with all the vulgarity this team threw around, and had been pleasantly surprised when it seemed their commander agreed with him—but before he could decide if he was feeling that brave or not, his gaze fell to the map. It was badly torn and covered in blood. "…The map, however, is not fine."

Keith watched for another moment, but it seemed safe to make it official. "Doc, I think we're all okay. Keep an eye on the scanners."

"Yeah, sure. Me'n the scanners are having a great time." Jace snorted. "Maybe we'll fly off and leave you there while you're picking fights with the natives."

Lance glowered at the comms. "Don't you dare fly her!" He was only answered by a crackle of static as the connection cut off.

Keith shook his head, turning to Hunk. "Sure you're okay, Garrett?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Doesn't hurt unless I do this." He poked the cut again, and Flynn sighed in exasperation.

Hard to blame him, really. "Well, don't do that. Give Kleid a minute with that kit to get it bandaged."

"And don't tell the doctor," Flynn muttered, "he'd probably kill me for doing his job."

Lance looked him up and down. "You look like you could take him."

"Don't bet on it." He finished patching the wound then turned his attention to Sven, who was working unsuccessfully to salvage the map. "We didn't make a backup, did we?"

"No," Sven admitted, more than a little upset with himself. How had he not made a backup? "But we don't have far to go. I can get us there without the map."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay." Keith straightened. "We need to get moving. This much blood, if more of them smell it…"

"This way." Sven turned and started walking.

Hunk grinned. "Always wanted to follow a Viking on a mission to burn and pillage."

"That's a bit disturbing," Flynn said conversationally.

"Oh like you've never played Raiders of the Frozen North."

Actually Flynn had no idea what that was, and felt he was probably happier that way. For his part, Sven just shook his head for a moment before returning his full focus to the path. Keith looked at them all and pinched the bridge of his nose. Crazy as hell Explorer Team…

The mention of burning and pillaging had made Lance grumble a bit, or maybe more than a bit. He tried to keep it to himself. This mission had him on the edge enough as it was, and that was before the boar-tahs showed up. He still had one of his guns out, keeping his head on a swivel as they moved. But there were no further incidents until they reached a giant stone wall blocking the entire pass.

"…No gate?" Sven murmured, walking a little ways down the wall and studying it. There was an inscription etched into the stone; he recognized it as the warning Ioan had given them in its original language. So that's where he got it. Walking a little further gave him a better vantage point. It wasn't helping much.

"Well that's creepy," Lance declared, looking at the warning. "Still no gate?"

"Nope." He returned to the others. "Definitely a wall."

"Well, they did say if we needed to make a hole…" Keith turned. "Garrett. You're up."

Hunk grinned, then his expression went shockingly serious. "Okay. You people. Back there." He pointed back to a ridge of stone a little ways back up the path. "Keep your heads down until I tell ya to look up."

With more than a few wary glances in their bomb tech's direction, the others followed his orders and sheltered behind the rock. "Well," Sven wrinkled his nose and flicked some blood off his sleeve, "we definitely ran into some beasts…"

"I don't think they came from the clouds, though."

"Nope, we came from the clouds."

"Hmm. Maybe they should've read the warning?"

"They should've."

Keith looked over the others as they chattered, making sure they were all adequately under cover. He was still uneasy. The boar-cats may well not have been the beasts from the warning. They needed to be careful, and here they were blowing up a wall. Hopefully if there was anything else around, the explosion would scare it away rather than getting its attention.

Hopefully.

Once he was satisfied that the others were behind shelter, Hunk had pulled a few things from his pack and gotten to work. The wall was old, weathered, and cracked; that would help. After a minute of study he had his game plan. Widening a couple of cracks with a chisel, he shaped three small charges and taped up a few nice loops of det cord.

He might have been humming an old song that might have been called Burn It To the Ground while he worked. It probably wouldn't have instilled any more confidence in the others. Then again, if it got results, who was going to complain?

Triple checking his work, he picked up his pack and the remote detonator and ran back to join the others. "Anyone wanna do a dramatic countdown?"

Flynn eyed him. "Something tells me you do…"

"Mayyyyybe." Grinning, Hunk cleared his throat dramatically. "Big kaboom in five! Four! Three! Two! One! One half! One quarter!"

"Just blow it already," Keith groaned.

Lance smirked. "Heard that before." Keith glared, Flynn choked on a laugh, Sven blinked and went bright red, and Hunk kept right on going.

"One quarterback! One nickelback! One running back! One wide receiver! And it's gonna receive a boom!"

A deafening explosion echoed through the mountain pass. Most of them jumped, except for Lance, who just chuckled; this guy was fun. "Hope there are still ruins left after that."

"Hunk," Flynn grumbled, "I'm pretty sure the point of a countdown is so we know when it's actually exploding…"

Shrug. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" The big man stood and looked over the rocks, then went around to check things out. In the midst of an enormous cloud of dust was a neat fifteen foot hole in the wall. "All clear! Or uh, actually all super dusty, but you know."

Dust. Fantastic. Sven grimaced as he followed the others into the cloud, shuddering as the dust settled and stuck to his bloodied skin. They'd just gotten here and all he wanted to do was get back to the ship and take a very long shower.

Keith moved up ahead of Hunk and peered through the dust past the wall. They'd blown their way into a large open space, and beyond that he could see a huge structure with five tunnels branching into the darkness. "Okay." He didn't like having to do this, but… "Let's split up."

"I wanna go with Daphne," Hunk announced immediately.

Lance nodded his approval. "Always a good choice, Hunk."

"Who's Daphne?" Sven had been the only one brave enough to ask it, but the other two looked just as confused. Hunk waved it off, exchanging shrugs with Lance. Clearly they were going to have to school this group on many aspects of their cultural history.

Later. For now, they had ruins to explore.

Keith finally just shook his head, which seemed like the best way to deal with it when those two got going. "Everyone pick a tunnel. Stay in radio contact."

"I'll take that one," Hunk volunteered, pointing down the far left tunnel. "Looks like it might be blocked off further down."

"All right. Just let us know before you try to detonate anything. These tunnels are old and we don't know how sturdy they are, we don't need them collapsing on us."

"No faith, boss." He sounded a bit affronted but shook it off and headed for his tunnel. One by one the others picked a branch to follow, and they disappeared into the shadows of the ruins.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Keith walked slowly down the corridor of the complex that he’d chosen. He occasionally paused in the hall, studying the engravings on the walls. While they were interesting, he was pretty sure it wasn’t what they were there for. He moved further down the hall, peeking into smaller rooms along the way. There wasn’t much here, except for the intricate engravings and rubble.

He sighed as he left the last small room before a rather large door at the end of the hall. Trying the knob only resulted in it immediately breaking off in his hand. He frowned and tried shoving it open, hitting it, even kicking it, but it was well and truly stuck. Finally he pulled his sidearm and shot where the knob had been, then pushed on it. It creaked open just as his comm link started going off.

"Who’s firing?"

"Everyone okay?"

"Are those creatures back?"

"What’s going on?"

Keith closed his eyes. "Baka…" He pushed his comm button. "It was me. Sorry. Just trying to get through a locked door."

"Faex, Kogane…"

"And you said I needed to let ya know if I was blastin’, boss."

Keith closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I know. Let’s just finish this up and get out of here, okay?" He pushed through the door and stopped. Rather than another room he was pretty much outside, in a very large open courtyard overgrown with native vegetation. He made a face as he smelled something kind of boggy, possibly a pool of water that had gone sour. Sliding his gun back into its holster, he slowly made his way around the courtyard. Nothing he was finding looked very important, but he diligently searched around every plant.

Pushing aside a low hanging branch beside a bush, he ducked to search a corner of the courtyard where what looked like a small fountain had stood. Instantly his foot was soaked and mired in mud. "Well, I found the smell," he muttered, grimacing. Keeping hold of the branch, he pulled his foot out of the mire, then tried to skirt around the edge of it… but he couldn't shake the feeling there was something more there that he needed to investigate. As finished searching the rest of the courtyard, he found himself drawn back to the ancient fountain.

The fountain was covered in crawling vines, but some intricate feathery engraving was still visible. He stood in front of it for a few minutes, just staring at it, trying to imagine what it would have been like back when this place had been populated. Sighing, he turned to go, but then the light hit something further into the fountain. He stopped and stared, and the light glinted again. "Hello, what are you?" A little tentatively, he stepped his already wet foot in and reached for the object in the water. He carefully gripped it and pulled, startled as a fairly large piece of black metal slid out of the mud. It felt strange in his hands, a sort of tingle… and he hadn't seen any other metal in here.

Stepping out of the fountain he pulled his water bottle from his backpack, sprinkling some over his find. "What did you come off of? You look interesting. We’ll have to see what the engineers have to say about you." He slid it into his pack and continued on.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Unfortunately—especially after the boss and his bullets—the blocked tunnel hadn't been blocked badly enough to need an explosion. Oh well. In these tight corridors enough things could go wrong that Hunk was just as happy saving the bombs.

All the better when it had turned out his tunnel was full of combustible materials. Namely several rooms full of coal, or at least something similar to coal. He took a couple chunks of it on principle. It wasn't likely the Galra were hunting for stockpiles of ancient fossil fuels, but it was intel's job to figure that out for sure, not his.

They did tell him something about the ruins, though. He could see traces of ancient, intricate duct work in the coal rooms, and he remembered Taeshalach retreating from the cold. This would be a perfect place to take shelter in the winter. If you were into that sort of thing.

Do bird people migrate? Maybe not anymore.

Pausing in the next coal room, Hunk tried to envision the layout of the place. He could tell he was going in a rough loop, which made sense if he was walking through the heating system. What he hadn't seen yet was anything recognizable as a furnace, or even a place where one might have been set up. Not like he could drag a furnace out of here even if he found one.

…Well, okay. Not like he should drag a furnace out of here even if he found one.

The cut on his arm was stinging a bit as he pushed debris aside. Nothing he couldn't handle, but he was still a bit annoyed with himself for being the one casualty. Not near as annoyed as the doc was gonna be, but annoyed. On the upside, the use of colorful impromptu explosions to scare away angry boar-cheetah-things would only help cement his reputation with the crew.

Like it needs the help after what you did to the wall out there. He chuckled and picked out another chunk of coal from the next room, returning to the issue at hand. But seriously, where'd they burn this stuff?

A few minutes later, the tunnel branched sharply and started to slope down. And he got his answer.

"Oh, dude." There was a huge, branching structure in the middle of a reinforced chamber, every inch of it crusted in soot. He could see chutes that definitely led from the coal rooms, and ducts leading back out, though most of them were broken. Some tools hung on the walls. What kind of tools they were was a mystery to him, so he tucked a few away in his pack.

Apparently he'd been right the first time. Even he couldn't drag this furnace out of here. Well, nothing to do but investigate and document every inch of the thing, then!

Half an hour, dozens of blurry photographs, and a haphazard blueprint later, he remembered what he was actually supposed to be doing here. It wasn't studying ancient sources of contained combustion.

"Oops…"

Packing up he bolted from the room, moving on, leaving the furnace silent and cold behind him.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

The tunnel Flynn had chosen branched off quite a lot, albeit mostly into empty rooms or dead ends of collapsed stone. Nothing about the layout made sense to him, though he supposed it shouldn't. These ruins were alien. Ancient alien, no less. He kept much of his attention on the walls; there was a pattern etched into them every so often. He could make out enough to tell it was the same pattern, but he hadn't found a complete version yet.

Was it important? Who knew? There wasn't much of anything else to see, and that bothered him. There should be something. Something to remember these people by, when their own world had clearly forgotten them…

Stop. Don't go there.

The tunnel itself abruptly opened into a large chamber, the dim beam of his flashlight revealing bright colors covering the floor. He recognized parts of the pattern. It was the same thing that had been on the walls. But here it was much better sealed and preserved, maybe to survive the traffic that had once gone through this room.

Here, it was evident the pattern wasn't much of a pattern at all. It was a chaotic mess of winding lines and haphazard shapes, but… there were elements of flow within the lines, labels in alien glyphs on some of the larger shapes. The overall impact was somehow familiar.

A map…?

He looked at the map and took a few long, shallow breaths, taking in the scale of it. The feathery script made no sense to him, but the pictures and the layout made it clear. This was a city.

Had been a city, anyway. It made his guts twist.

What happened here?

Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to.

Yes. He knew better.

He shook it off and studied the map more carefully; it was too big to get a decent picture, though he tried. There didn't seem to be any break in the outer wall, but there were several green areas that he guessed to be some kind of courtyards. It looked like they'd entered from one of those. Beyond that, without being able to read the writing, it couldn't tell him much. It did look like the tunnel he was in led to some sort of… well, he wasn't sure exactly. It was etched in a wild rainbow of colors and looked important.

Okay, let's go that way.

A few more branching dead ends, and he felt wind from up ahead. The faint light of the overcast was trickling down the tunnel. And then it opened up again.

Whoa…

The chamber was huge. The Terinians had probably been able to fly in here once… but now half of the ceiling had collapsed, filling the room with debris. Flynn looked closer and paused. The breaks were clean, and there were scorch marks all over the wreckage.

This isn't age. This is battle damage…

A shudder ran through him at the thought. No. He wasn't going to dwell on that, he was going to do his job. Maybe. Hopefully. If there was anything in here but broken ceiling and empty shelves.

The place had been pretty well cleaned out, but one particular pile of stones caught his eye. A slab of the ceiling had been propped up in a way that well could have left a hole. It took a little doing to move it out of the way, but a glint of crimson in the darkness rewarded his efforts.

Oh…

Two blades of some bright white metal were half pinned beneath the stone. The blades themselves were etched with intricate feathery patterns, and the handles were studded with tiny red gems in careful intervals. Whether they'd actually be any use as weapons, he kind of doubted, but someone had gone to a lot of effort to create them just the same.

…It didn't seem likely to be what the Galra were after. But who knew? Either way they were too beautiful to just leave here, forgotten. He had to take them. Some sign that this city had lived.

Carefully, he tucked the daggers away in his pack, then closed his eyes for a moment. Wondering what it had been like here. How different it must have…

Stop.

Sighing, he stood and moved on.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Sven walked down his chosen corridor, watching the drawings as he passed them. He assumed the winged stick figured scattered along the walls were Terinians. Some looked to be flying, others just standing, but all of them had beautiful swirls surrounding them. There didn’t seem to be any type of pattern to the swirls, but he was in no way qualified to say that for certain.

Twisting himself slightly when a particularly beautiful etching in wall caught his eye as he passed it, he quickly regretted the motion. He grabbed his side and stopped walking to wait out the pain. His side was throbbing, successfully delivering the message that twisting his torso like that was no longer allowed. After the pain passed Sven lifted up his bloody shirt to reveal a quickly darkening bruise, covering the majority of his left side. So apparently he wasn’t as well off as he had previously thought. Though, he supposed that should be expected after being tackled by a pack of… huge clawed boar things. Honestly he was lucky not to be worse off.

After giving himself another quick once over, just make sure there were no more surprise injuries, he continued on his path, shaking his head. His side looked worse than it was. It only hurt when he twisted it… at all… which didn’t seem that bad to him. He didn’t think any of his ribs were broken, but Jace would have to make sure.

Sven sighed and rolled his eyes as the doctor’s sullen face popped into his mind. Jace was going to be annoyed. Though, he thought to himself, Jace would probably be annoyed if he had stubbed his toe. He was probably going to get another insult filled lecture. This wasn’t even his fault. How exactly was he supposed to stop a pack of vicious cat boar things from tackling him? Shaking his head, he took a calming breath. He was getting defensive and the doctor wasn’t even here. Stupid doctor had gotten inside his head. He’d gotten him worried about not stubbing his toe.

Remembering that he had an assignment to complete, Sven put Jace out of his mind. He was supposed to be looking for something, anything the Galra could be trying to get their hands on. Looking around as he walked, he made sure to be more careful of his side.

Well, unless the Galra were looking for rocks, or wall art, fairly certain they’d be disappointed walking down this corridor.

He was studying the etchings on the wall as he debated with himself on just turning around and calling this one a bust. Before he could come to a decision he tripped on what he assumed was a rock, because apparently that was just how his day was going. Being attacked by savage alien animals evidently wasn’t enough for the universe. He had to trip on a…

Sven looked around for the offending object and promptly choked on his own spit.

Not a rock. Definitely not a rock.

Wincing as he scurried up from his fallen position, Sven ignored the pain emanating from his side. Miraculously it hadn’t hurt very much as he had tripped. Now, well… now he had other things to worry about.

That was a Terinian skull. A Terinian skull with a nasty hole in the center, probably how the poor thing had died. Looking a little to the left, Sven swallowed. And that would be the rest of its skeleton. Nodding to himself, he started retreating as quickly as the ache in his side allowed. Yes, this corridor was a bust.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Lance wandered down the hall, his flashlight lit, thinking all he would find would be dirt and dust. So far so good. Finally he found another doorway and walked into a room. He shined light on the walls, reaching out and wiping away ancient dust, dirt and cobwebs to reveal some etchings. It looked like cats, maybe the boar-tahs, maybe something like lions—he wasn’t sure. He spun in place, eyes landing on some low tables in the corner. They were made of rock, he noted as he stooped down and touched the rough surface. For all he knew this was a kitchen table or coffee table of sorts. He picked up the stuff on the table; it seemed to be tools of some sorts and assorted rocks, quartz maybe, of different colors. It was pretty, he thought absently as he just shoved it into his pack. It was probably nothing but junk but it wasn’t his job to sort that out.

Standing up he noticed more etchings on the walls and swiped it clean with his hand, coughing from the dust. These had more animals and maybe the sun. It was both foreign and familiar… something tugged at his heart as he remembered his mother’s paintings. Meadows and lakes. They’d been in the family for centuries, she'd told him. It was their bit of Earth on Beau Terre, she used to say, sounding homesick. A bitter laughed formed in his throat. He hadn’t understood that then, hadn’t known what that meant until he found himself on Earth, staring at a sky the wrong shade of blue.

He bent down and sorted through the junk on the floor. It was more colored rocks. Polished, he realized, wondering what they were polished for. Then he picked up something bigger, shaped in the familiar form of a winged person, and stared. It’s a doll, he realized. A child’s toy, with a face and what seemed to be the thought of clothes etched into it like the drawings on the walls.

Home. This was a home, this was a race's life… now it was just dust, dirt, and rocks, cobwebs obscuring its secrets, strange eyes looking at it and not understanding. He was taking people’s things. It hit him harder now, and he shuddered at the thought and nearly dropped the doll. But he couldn’t… he gripped it tight and thought he must honor the child it belonged to. He couldn’t only take from this place, no, even if it was his orders.

They would show up and they wouldn’t care, they wouldn’t notice this was a civilization. They wouldn’t look at the etchings and wonder about polished rocks. The Galra just burn things down and steal, they take and they won’t stop with just this place… they’ll attack the villages because they can’t help themselves. The paintings his mother loved, that were in his family for centuries, had become ash in seconds because of them. They’ll ruin this place… and never give it a thought.

Anger simmered under his skin, and he thought about Hunk. Hunk with all those explosives. It was in his mind, had been for days really, a trap to kill them. Just to take out as many as they could. And now, if it would stop them from touching this place…

He tucked the doll into the pocket of his leather jacket, shoved more rocks into his pack, and started making his way back out with a grim set to his jaw. He was fully intent now on making sure they set a trap for the Galra. They wouldn’t ruin what was left of this place, hell no.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

They met back up at the hole in the wall. Keith arrived first, with an empty-handed Sven coming up just behind him looking disappointed. Hunk trotted up a minute later, his collection pack bulging almost as much as the one he was carrying the explosives in. "Yo boss, yo Viking, anything cool?"

"Possibly."

"No."

"Too bad. I found a ton of cool stuff!" Frown. "Dunno if it's useful cool stuff, but hey…"

Flynn returned after another minute, at about the same time as Lance, who was quiet and looking unusually pensive. Keith nodded to the two of them and looked up at the overcast. It was late. It was probably getting darker, though the clouds made it hard to be certain. What was certain was they didn't want to still be here when night fell.

There were other issues, though…

"I think Holgersson and I should go ahead." The navigator was the only other one who'd seemed capable of staying quiet on the way out. "Make sure there's none of those creatures waiting where their friends died."

"Wait," Lance spoke up. "Um, I have a thought."

Keith turned to him, fully ready to explain why splitting up on the way back was necessary. "What's that?"

"The Galra, they could show up any time, looking for whatever… we should rig up a trap. Hunk, you could do it, right?"

…Oh. Well that certainly wasn't what he'd expected. Though now that it was out there, it didn't surprise him; he noted Flynn had an expression like he'd been waiting for it himself.

Hunk just shrugged. "Would take some doin', place is sturdier than it looks, yeah? But there ain't nothin' I can't make go boom, bro."

"No." Keith shook his head slowly. "One, we don't need to tip our hand that we were here if the Galra can scan for our explosives. Two, the locals. If they come down here and go in…" The risk was unconscionable. "No. They'd be killed. We can't have that on our hands."

Lance's initial hesitation was rapidly vanishing. "The locals seemed pretty uninterested in this place."

"And that could change, McClain. You never know. So no. That's final."

"No one comes up here, no one's been on that path in ages. It'd just be those bastards."

What part of final was he not understanding? "McClain, drop it."

"We have a shot to take them out!"

Keith glared, and Lance met it evenly, clenching his jaw. "I'm the commanding officer here, Lieutenant. I said no, I meant no. Let's move, Holgersson. The rest of you, hold position. Give it fifteen minutes or until we call." He turned and started up the path, Sven trailing quietly behind.

"When they show up here you think they'll leave the locals alone?" Lance yelled after him. "Just pop in harmlessly over here and leave?"

"Keep it up, Lieutenant, and I'll put you on restriction!" Keith yelled back.

Lance scowled, glaring as they vanished around a curve in the path. But hey, on the upside, that meant they were gone. He turned to Hunk. "You can do it, right?"

"Course I can do it…" The big man looked uneasily after their commander. "Boss said no, though."

"We can take them out!" He looked to Flynn for support. Commander Tightass Kogane might not get it, but surely his cool second would, right?

"Lance." That definitely wasn't supportive.

"No! This is a shot to kill some of them, to stop them."

"It's impractical. Our supplies are limited, we can't exactly get more contraband explosives out here. And what will it accomplish?"

What the hell kind of question was that? "It stops them from getting their hands on whatever it is they want, whatever we missed in there." He clenched his fists. "It gets them dead!"

Flynn's tone was bleeding patience remarkably quickly. "Right. Because they'd send their whole crew, and they certainly wouldn't send anyone else in if their first group disappeared."

"Still kills some of them!"

"Kogane's made this very clear," Flynn said icily, "so I don't know why I'm bothering to argue with you, but think. Burning through our stock of explosives hurts us more than losing a few explorers hurts the Galra. Maybe you've forgotten, but our mission is to find a way to stop all of them. Not just a few who happened to step on the wrong tripwire."

"I want them dead. All of them. Why not take a few out while we have a shot to take them by surprise?"

"Pretty certain I just answered that. Never mind that we have orders, and you're being incredibly petulant right now."

"Petulant?" Lance glowered. "The Galra are murderous scum who don't care about anyone."

"And you're willing to murder whoever shows up here next because it might be them."

"It will be them!" Why the hell didn't he get it? Why didn't anyone understand? "And they won't just come here, either. Every village near here is in danger."

"Oh, don't pretend you care about these people," Flynn snorted. "You're perfectly willing to let them die as long as you get what you want."

New fury erupted in Lance's blood, filling his mind with a buzzing fog of anger. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Listen to yourself." The engineer's violet eyes narrowed. "Everything you've said about the Galra, and you don't think they'll retaliate if these ruins are sabotaged? Or you just don't give a damn? Won't be you paying the price."

Lance snapped. "FUCK YOU!" Even before he'd finished spitting the words he lunged forward, slamming a fist into Flynn's jaw before he could even hope to react.

"Ceve!" Hissing, Flynn staggered back and reoriented. If the flyboy wanted to hurt, then he'd damn well oblige—

"—Whoa! Hey!" Hunk grabbed him as he lunged forward, pushing him back a few steps. Then he stepped in between them, looking at Lance. "Chill, bro! He ain't the bad guy!"

Being stopped was almost as shocking as being punched had been; truthfully Flynn had pretty much forgotten Hunk was even there. He stepped back and glared around the big man's shoulder, fighting for calm as he caught his breath.

Lance was breathing heavily, barely able to see through the haze of anger, but the initial surge of adrenaline had faded. Shit. "Y… you don't get it," he stammered, turning away and muttering to himself. "Need to stop them…"

"Didn't we just—" Flynn was cut off by Hunk reaching back and slapping a huge hand over his mouth. Immediately whatever ill-advised thing he'd been about to say vanished, replaced by a stunned look.

"Easy, bro." Hunk shook his head and looked back at their pilot. "Can't stop 'em like this, yeah?"

Lance was silent, but turned back to them; his expression was stony. He didn't look interested in speaking, for once. Returning his glare for a moment, Flynn fought his tone back to somewhere near even. "Get back to the ship, McClain. Now." He fully expected to have to argue about that, too. But Lance just glared for another moment, then turned and started up the path.

For a minute everything was silent.

Hunk watched Lance storm off, grimacing. So much for this being a quiet scouting mission. What the hell was that about? It probably wouldn't matter soon. In his experience, officers didn't take too kindly to being punched by their subordinates even when it was justified, let alone… whatever he'd just seen.

"You okay, pit boss?"

"Fine." Flynn was staring after Lance too, his venomous glare turning into a cool, searching gaze. "Just startled me."

Granted, a fist to the face would do that. Though there was a trickle of blood running down his lip too. "Uh, you're not actually totally fine, just as a heads up."

Shrug. "I've had worse."

Fair enough. If he knew and it didn't bother him Hunk wasn't going to make an issue of it. "Whatcha think is gonna happen to him now?"

Flynn looked up at him, frowning slightly. "Nothing's going to happen to him, because I'm not reporting it. Nor are you." He must've caught Hunk's surprise, because he gave him a sharp look. "That's an order."

"Ain't a snitch, pit boss." It wasn't his business, and he wouldn't wish the whole assaulting a superior officer circus on anyone. "You sure you're okay? You can't go to the Doc and keep him out of my kitchen for a bit?"

That got him an exasperated sigh rather than the smirk he'd expected. "Stow it, Garrett."

Oh, he was Garrett now. Pit boss was more annoyed than he was willing to let on. Well, whatever he needed to do. "Stowing as ordered!" He pulled his datapad from his pack, called up a playlist, and let the thumping bass of Chainsaw Bayonet cut through the tense silence.

Flynn glanced over at him and arched an eyebrow. All of a sudden the idiot who was handy with bombs was back to being an idiot. And he was buying it even less than he had before. But really he'd had enough excitement for the time being, and his jaw already hurt like hell… he wasn't going to make an issue of it right now. Maybe not ever.

All that left him with was questions about two crewmates instead of just one.

So what, exactly, was any of that?

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Sven understood why he'd been the one chosen to accompany the commander back. Between that and Keith's furious expression he knew he'd better stay quiet as they walked. But his side was really starting to ache… he winced, lifting his shirt to have a look. Oh yes, the boar-tah had left him one spectacular souvenir. Jace is gonna be mad…

Noting the motion, Keith slowed a bit and turned. "How are you doing, Holgersson?"

"Fine, just a bruise." He dropped his shirt, but not quickly enough to stop his commander from seeing the developing bruise that covered half his torso.

"Holy…" He stopped altogether. "How's your breathing? Any pain in your chest?"

Of course there was pain in his chest, there was a giant bruise there. Though he knew what was really being asked. "My breathing's fine, nothing feels labored. Just hurts a little when I twist is all. Really, I'm fine."

"Alright." Keith nodded. He wasn't going to argue the point; he had to trust his people to know their own limits. "We're going to have to be extra careful when we get to where those creatures died."

"Yes, sir."

"Speaking of… did you ever qualify to use that weapon?"

Sven blushed at the question; he'd kind of hoped everyone else was too busy to notice his weapon issues. "Yes, I did." Barely… "I, uh… prefer more hands on weapons. Firearms haven't come easily to me." There was a reason he was packing a plasma pistol, and it wasn't because he'd carefully weighed the benefits of energy versus ballistics. It was just easier to aim and you didn't have to worry about ammunition.

To his surprise, Keith grinned. "So do I, actually, but we can't just rely on hand to hand. Especially with creatures like what we faced earlier. We can't have you dying on us. There should be a range holo in the gym, I want you to practice daily."

Oh, that should be tons of fun. "Yes, sir."

The commander nodded and started walking again. "And if you want a workout partner for hand to hand… let me know."

Now that really did sound like fun. Sven gave a small smile. "I will, sir. I've trained in glima since I was young, it's…" He paused, blushing as he realized what he was about to say. "It was a Viking style of martial arts."

That nickname is definitely not going away.

"Oh?" Keith looked intrigued. "I've had training from a young age in a few Japanese styles, we should see how well they fare against yours."

Sven grinned, excited for the first time in awhile about something other than the thought of a shower. "It should be fun."

"It should," Keith agreed. "So what kind of weapons do you prefer?"

"Knives, bow and arrow…" Pause. "And uh, battle axes." Nope, the nickname was going nowhere at all. "You?"

"Knives, swords… the more honorable weapons of Japan." Shrug. "A few others."

Something told Sven that a few others didn't include axes. "I tried training with a sword a few years ago. I definitely prefer the weight and motion that comes with a battle axe."

"Make you a deal," Keith offered with a grin. "I'll help you with your sidearm and swords, and you can teach me the axe."

Now that sounded really fun. "I wouldn't get your hopes up on me improving much with a firearm… uh, sir. But you have a deal."

Nodding, Keith looked around their surroundings and ducked behind a boulder, motioning for Sven to do the same. The site of the earlier attack was just ahead, and as he carefully raised his head to have a look, he was pretty certain he could see two of the creatures circling the bodies. "Looks like there's a couple there. Let's see what they do, but we may have to take them out. Be ready."

"Alright." Sven looked at his sidearm, then gave Keith the most respectful look of sheer doubt he could muster. Didn't we just have this conversation?

Before either of them could say anything else, a screaming roar came from somewhere above and behind them. An instant later one of the beasts came down on Keith's back, digging its claws in.

And they'd definitely just had this conversation. Sven drew his knife and lunged for the beast, driving it into the back of its neck and severing the spine… which was easier said than done. These things were solid.

"Thanks." Keith shoved the beast off him with a wince, pausing to catch his breath. "You ready to do this? Because we don't have a choice anymore." The other two had been alerted by the noise, and were now charging full bore down the path.

"Yes sir."

The lead boar-tah lowered its head, tusks glinting in the low light. These things really would have been magnificent creatures, if only they hadn't been trying to murder them… it was a shame, really. But there was nothing to be done for it. Keith fired on the lead creature, bringing in down with a burst to its forehead. Sven was watching carefully, knife at the ready; may as well just study the commander's technique, because he was certain if he'd tried to take that shot he would have somehow gotten the beast's tail.

As the one in the lead went down, the one behind it pounced. Sven was ready with his knife, it seemed much too close for a rifle burst… but Keith fired straight into its mouth, sending blood everywhere and going down beneath the body as it hit him.

…A little anticlimactic, actually, but definitely better than being boar-tah food. He sheathed his knife, grimacing as he felt more blood splatter him, just what he needed.

"Do you see any more?" Keith asked, scrambling to his feet.

"No."

"Good. Radio the others, tell them to hurry up."

"Yes, sir." He opened his comms. "You guys need to hurry up, we just ran into a few more of those… uh, beasts. No telling if more will show up." Closing the comms, he looked down at himself and shuddered. "I want a shower."

Keith reached up and wiped some of the mess off his own face. "You and me both… don't think the Doc is going to have anything nice to say when he sees us like this."

Sven groaned. "Do you think if I don't tell him about the giant bruise he'll let me take a shower before checking me over?" As soon as he asked it he winced; for a moment there he'd forgotten he was talking to his commanding officer.

Fortunately Keith just smirked. "This much blood? I doubt it."

Sigh. Of course not.

They made it back to the ship without further incident, and Keith tapped his comms. "Doc, we're here. Open up the hatch."

Jace had spent the last several hours sitting on the bridge playing games on his datapad, wishing he could be in the gym. Or the galley. Really anywhere but just sitting here. Still, it wasn't as if he was going to not abuse bridge authority for the brief time he had it… he put up his datapad and smirked. "What's the magic word?"

"…NOW."

Blink. "Yep, that's it!" He hit the hatch controls and left the bridge to go up and meet them; he wanted to hear about this local wildlife that had apparently caused them so much trouble. His amusement at that disappeared completely as he reached the hatch and found two of his teammates practically covered in blood. "…What the fuck, both of you!?"

Sven sighed. "We're fine, but I have a bruise you need to look at so I can get a shower."

Keith side-eyed him. "Thought you didn't want him to know?"

"He'd find out anyway and then just be angry that I didn't tell him, and then I'd have to wait even longer for my shower. And endure a lecture."

"It's adorable you think I'm not going to lecture you anyway, holy shit." A little encounter with the local wildlife? He'd dragged troopers off the front lines who were less of a mess than these two.

"None of the blood is ours," Sven assured him.

"I'm not taking your word for that, dumbass." Not even a little. "Since we don't have a sick bay, you two rather strip in the cargo bay or in the showers?"

"Showers," they answered in unison; it was the first time he'd ever heard Sven shout.

"Okay." He grabbed his kit and scowled. "Let's move. …Where's everyone else?"

"On their way. We were making sure the path was clear before calling them up; it wasn't."

"Clearly. They all covered with blood that isn't theirs too?"

Keith and Sven exchanged glances. Hunk wouldn't appreciate them answering that honestly. "How about you just worry about us right now?"

"Porra… whatever. Move. And if either of you weaves even a little, you better believe I'll fucking carry you."

The showers were on the lower deck; Keith used the handrail gingerly. Just to be safe, because no way in hell was he being carried. He really didn't think the scratches on his back were too bad… they'd gotten off lucky, in all honesty. And this had just been hostile wildlife. What might be in store for them next?

He supposed they'd find out…

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Flipping through pages of various notes, Alfor was becoming more and more certain his pendant was a key component for awakening the Black Lion. He was not sure how yet, but he couldn’t help the thought that if he was able to acquire the pendant, the means to wake the other Lions could also be possible. Sighing as he leaned back in his seat, he pondered on if he would have the time to find the other pieces. Each Lion was different, not only in their elements but also how to access them. Still, he felt closer to the answers.

Closer.

Turning to a tried and true method of making sure he was on the correct path, he started to meditate on his needs. Most times this method had worked… yet lately it was becoming more problematic. As his mind’s eye focused towards the spirits that had guided him before, he sensed dark clouds all around him.

A vision formed in the shape of his daughter. Once more she was surrounded by clouds, only they were darker, heavier. And she was not alone. A man was also within the clouds with her, but his features were hidden. Sparks of electricity crackled about the air around him. Alfor watched as Allura raised her arm, in a manner of official greeting, and the man accepted her hand. Electricity arched between the two with no reactions from either one, as if nothing was happening. Clouds covered the vision, and he found himself more confused than before.

Hoping to find a clear voice in this mental plane, he called out to the spirits. Soon an old mentor replied.

"The answers you seek cannot be given."

Turning, Alfor found the ghostly form of the speaker at his side: his father’s old teacher, Sir Juno. "Juno, please… I am running out of clues to what must be done for the Lions. I’m sure I have one piece, but I need to find the others."

"Those paths are for others," Juno replied. His tone was calm and grave, but there was a sad look in his eyes.

"No… please don’t say that." Alfor growled in frustration. "Surely there is something I can be told. How can I look out for my people—my daughter—when less and less is being given? It feels that at this rate, all of Arus could be…"

He stopped mid-thought as he looked at Juno. All of Arus rang in his head. All his research had told him, the silence from his guides…

It was the truth he didn’t want to face. It was that great an event that laid before him.

"Something that must be…." Looking about for any sign of that he could be wrong in his thought, he found nothing. Turning once more to Juno, he spoke with more certainty. "The Lions have a part in this."

"I cannot say…"

"Can I at least know how much time I have to prepare?"

Juno could only shake his head no, and his spectral form slowly faded away.

Alfor bit his lip in anger. Though tempting to yell at the gods, both Golden and otherwise, he knew it would not help in any way. He could have many years or a mere month to try to save Arus from something disastrous. Not knowing where the danger was even to come from ate at him all the more.

And yet… there was that vision of Allura, one of so few clear visions anymore. It seemed to imply that whatever was coming, she would perhaps survive. And the man alongside her… could he represent the answer? Perhaps…

As his mind returned to the normal world, he lowered his head and sighed. Too many questions… and not enough time.