Walking into the clinic with Andie, I felt a lightening in myself. The ride from the Hub had been liberating. It was nothing like the majesty of taking to the open skies in dragon form, but for a moment, the darkness that had gripped me since our banishment eased.

The path of my life had been settled for me a millennium ago by endless wars and infighting—blood spilled, families destroyed, all for power. I was lashed to the traditions of my people, sentenced to exile for simply existing because of a crime that was committed long before my existence was even a thought. To be cast off by everyone you have ever known, to be so easily discarded, had stung me to my very core.

Still, for a moment, flying over the golden brown and orange terrain of Vaxivia's plains with the soft, supple curves of this woman pressed against me, I didn't feel so lost and without hope.

“Hullo!” We were greeted by the pleasant, owlish face of young Mike, Jennifer's sometime helper.

“Why, hey there, Mikey!” Andie beamed at him, ruffling his moppy brown hair.

“Jennifer has muffins behind the counter,” he informed us as he headed out the front door.

“Where are you headed?”

“Home. Jennifer's appointments all canceled, so she is closing for the day,” he said, a note of disappointment in his voice. He held up a metal box. “She let me take home a field kit, though, so I'm going to go practice some dressings.”

“Nice! Well, hey, just uh . . . just stay inside today, okay?” Andie watched him worriedly.

“Okay, sure,” he said, distractedly fiddling with the box as he walked away.

“Kid'll be okay,” chimed Hardin. “He's in CHUs with a bunch of militia families.” Hardin was referencing the condensed housing units constructed to serve the most recent influx of residents to the Outpost.

Andie hopped behind the small front desk and triumphantly lifted a plate of delicious looking small bread-like items.

“Breakfast!” Andie said, licking her lips with glee. For a split second, I wasn't sure which looked better, the woman or the food.

“Sweet! I'll take one of those, babe,” Hardin said excitedly. His informality with Andie was proving irritating and nearly robbed me of my appetite.

“Hey, guys.” Jennifer bustled up front. “I didn't know you were back already, but great timing. I was about to EE you that we were headed back out to the compound.”

Zaruv came up behind her. “Pavar is awake now, and we need to move someplace more secure.” He then looked at Hardin in his militia fatigues. “Greetings, I am Zaruv. I take it you are aware of our situation?”

Hardin nodded, introduced himself, and agreed with Zaruv's motion to relocate.

“I've got a hover vehicle out front than can carry you all there, but we should move quickly. It's carrying weapons from the armory. A show of solidarity from the militia.”

Zaruv inclined his head. “Many thanks to the people of Vaxivia.”

* * *

Back at the compound, we placed Pavar in a resting chamber where he quickly resumed a slightly feverish sleep.

“He looks like hell,” Andie said bluntly, taking in his bandaged abdomen and sweaty, pale face.

“He will heal, but it is not pleasant. Dragselian bodies can rebound from nearly any injury but decapitation,” I informed her.

“That's handy.”

“Yes. It is usually fast, but unfortunately, it is never painless.” My response was punctuated by a low moan from Pavar's dry lips.

We returned to the dining chamber where, seated around the large steel table, everyone else had convened and begun discussing our situation.

“I think the time has come for us to leave the Outpost,” Ragal said quietly.

Jennifer's eyes widened, alarm and something else showing in them. “Where will you go? You don't have a ship and there are literal demons out there hunting you.”

Zaruv looked pained. “Ragal is right. Every moment that we are here is a moment we endanger you all. Trouble has followed us here. It will follow us out.”

Andie joined in now. “Jennifer has a point though. If you go out there half-cocked and they attack you and win, you think they'll just walk away? Forgive me if I am wrong. My familiarity with Infernians certainly doesn't match yours, but from what I've heard, those sons a'bitches like to make a hobby for leaving a mark wherever they go.”

“Sorry, but what exactly are Infernians? Like, aside from bad guys,” Hardin asked as we all turned to him, a little surprised by the simplicity and candor of his question.

Zaruv spoke up first. “They are Dragselians, but in the most bastardized way.” In a voice that dripped of disgust, he continued. “Thousands of years ago, Necak, a member of the royal family of Dragselia, incited a decades-long, grisly civil war. No house was left untouched by the death and destruction the Dragon wars wrought. As the younger son of a younger son, he sought to challenge the rules of succession, and in turn, he destabilized and nearly destroyed a kingdom.

“Eventually, the descendants of Necak were defeated and fled to the previously uninhabitable Infernis. Forced to adapt to the extreme atmosphere, they attempted to intentionally evolve their DNA with biomanipulation technology, to devastating results. They are forever trapped between bipedal and dragon form, as hideous as they are nefarious.”

Finishing, Zaruv downed one of the drinks Jennifer had set out for us all.

Hardin still looked somewhat quizzical, so I added, “They can blend in with humans and Dragselians for short times by injecting themselves with a chemical compound distilled from our spinal fluid.”

“Shit. That's harsh.” Hardin swallowed, looking fractionally more nervous.

“Infernians are difficult to kill, as are we. Having descended from Dragselians, the only way to truly kill one is beheading. Andromeda is right. We must approach this more tactically,” I agreed.

Zaruv looked frustrated. “No, batr, you were right before. We have endangered our friends long enough. We can't delay. Besides, we will not lose against them. We are four and they are three. We are dragons while they are freaks.”

“Those freaks nearly killed Pavar,” Ragal said.

I agreed. “Yes, we would do well not to underestimate our enemy. They clearly know with whom and where we are. What little security we have added to the compound is insufficient. If we could get a message to a nearby Dragselian colony, we could call for reinforcements.”

Hardin spoke up again. “What about Steel City? It's at least ten times the size of the Outpost. It is easily the most populated part of Vaxivia and has a lot more tactical fortification. We get most of our munitions through them. Their mayor, Charles Janeway, has been a friend to the Militia.”

“How far is it from here?” Zaruv inquired.

“About ninety specs—so about two days’ travel time, depending on the conditions. Out on the crags and flats, dust storms can kick up without warning,” Andie put in as her slender fingers toyed with the mug before her.

“That's a long time to be out in the open with two of us injured,” I contended.

“Not if we fly,” Zaruv retorted.

Jennifer looked shocked. “You can't be serious. Pavar is in no condition to fly anywhere. He is barely able to stand.”

Zaruv looked at her balefully. “We have no choice. I will not put you in harm's way again. If the only way for you to be safe is for us to be gone, we must go.”

Face reddening, Jennifer snapped back, “Excuse me, but I'm not going to let you go out and martyr yourself on my account. If you're going anywhere, you're taking me with you. Besides, Pavar is my patient, as are you, and if you think you're transporting my patients without me, you're as out of it as he is!”

“Jennifer, you could be killed, or worse, taken captive and tortured. They know that we are . . . close. Do you think they won't act on that knowledge, given the chance?”

“And do you think that I would let you go off to your death alone? Nope. Sorry, either you stay here or I go with you.”

I hadn't seen Jennifer so determined, but it was good to see someone put Zaruv in his place. Concerned as he was, I could sense the relief in Zaruv knowing Jennifer would come with us.

Ragal spoke up, “We cannot fly with Pavar like this, and you can barely shift.”

“I can shift if I need to,” Zaruv puffed.

Such bickering and posturing continued for some time until Andie, who had kept quiet for some time, finally cleared her throat.

“I think I might have a solution. What if we borrow a couple of mecharovers from the Militia? We could go by land, using the vehicles as shelter, and it would allow us to carry more munitions than I'm guessing you could strap on to yourselves if you fly. Besides, it'll be smoother, I suspect, than riding a dragon—granted, I've never ridden one, but I can imagine it might get a little rough up there . . .” Andie started to stumble, realizing the suggestive double meaning of her words.

A flush of pink warmed her smooth cheeks as she continued, “It'll also be easier for Hardin, Jennifer, and myself to accompany you, giving you reinforcements if the demons attack.”

Her plan made sense and was practical and tactically sound. I was impressed. Everyone was silent for a beat while they mentally weighed the option.

I spoke first. “It's a good plan, strategically—I like it.” Andie looked at me and smiled slightly before looking away. Ragal nodded in silent agreement.

Zaruv said, “Yes, it has merit. What say you, Hardin?”

“Makes sense to me, and I'm game to blow off some demon heads! I'll EE the Hub.” Hardin stepped away from the table and closed his eyes, concentrating.

Jennifer stood. “I'll go check on Pavar and start packing medical supplies and food.”

Hardin returned. “Johnson will give us two mecharovers—it's all we can spare—along with a few more supplies and long-range rifles. Kang will bring them over shortly.”

Zaruv stood to follow Jennifer. “It is settled. Let's all make our preparations.”

Two hours later, we loaded into the vehicles. Hardin climbed into the driver seat of the first and Andie, the second. Pavar walked himself to the back of the first rover. Ragal opened the doors for him and helped him climb in.

Jennifer insisted on accompanying Pavar and Zaruv insisted on accompanying Jennifer.

Ragal turned to me. “Zaruv thinks he is still in his fighting form, but we both know he is hurting. I will ride with them. You should go with Sergeant Andromeda. She should not be alone in the event of an attack.”

I nodded and inwardly steeled myself against the thrum of my quickening heart rate as I walked to the second vehicle and climbed in beside Andie.

“Ready to ride?” She inquired innocently, and it was all I could do to nod as I resisted a growing excitement.