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Earthers, it turns out, will attempt to befriend and pack-bond with literally anything…”attempt” being the key word. But space, in all its vast diversity of life, houses dangers the likes neither Logan nor his Deathworlder Virgil have ever seen. Logan’s homeworld was no Deathworld by any stretch, but even he was wary of new creatures because he had to be for survival. Every new encounter was one of great reluctance.
Virgil, though cautiously wary of other advanced species in the markets and suspicious of strangers, occasionally let his guard down around wild creatures that were familiar to those of his home. He gained their trust, and knew the difference between one that was more likely to be a friend than dangerous…though Virgil had miraculously made friends with one beast twice Logan's size with bone-crushing tusks out of necessity, too, so it was hardly consistent. Logan was perplexed by how Virgil’s kind ever evolved such behavior, especially befriending what any sane surviving species would consider a threat. Despite this, he thought it was admirable how Virgil was brave despite his apprehensions about new situations and settings. It had saved them both twice now in tough situations…but only twice.
A lucky coincidence was not something to base your view of the entire universe, or even a solar system, on.
Not everything fluffy with a cute face is safe, but it's easy to be disarmed by that. Many planets have evolved or been invaded by offworld predators that are unassuming and mimic the docile forms of prey species; they don't trigger the danger instincts in their prey until it is too late. It's a lesson learned the hard way.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Logan had only looked away for one turn. Just a moment. He and Virgil had docked their Star Sailer in a narrow plain at the edge of a field, sheltered from the planet's harsh, turbulent climate in the shadow of a mountain. Virgil said he'd gather something to start a fire with and perhaps anything they could check was edible for food along the side of this mountain cluster. Now Logan didn't see him anywhere.
They'd barely managed to steer the sailer through the narrow, maze-like valleys without crashing, even with Logan's 4 arms and Virgil's surprising amount of strength that had held down the mainsail's rigging when it had snapped clean off the stern of their ship.
While they'd survived that harrowing stretch of their journey, they'd never make it off planet to the second moon in this thing. Its old artificial atmosphere wouldn't survive the gravity of the planet, and just be sucked away until they were well-into space. Their entire ship wasn't designed to survive this planet, but they'd had no choice but to make the emergency landing here.
Logan knew nothing substantial about this planet's weather. He had memorized the datacard for this sector of the Sandari Solar System, but he was learning just how much encyclopedias often left out about each subject.
Ventuit; a temperate planet in sector Y, referred to as O-TS-19 in common nomenclature. A rocky planet with low vegetation, damp clay-rich soil. 30% surface water in scattered deep lakes. Tight mountainous regions with most land fauna living in caverns and burrows due to the wind.
It had never mentioned how much wind, nor how strong. That seemed like important information to disclose.
He and Virgil had thankfully landed near some mountains, although on the wind-facing side, hence the treacherous unplanned trip as they were pushed right through. Logan hoped those winds didn't change often. The last thing they needed was a headwind pushing them back again. Their campsite was at least partially sheltered by a hill, but he knew that wouldn't stop wind from bearing down on them or blowing them out of the cover in the night should the worst happen.
…The point being, they really could not stay here long.
Vast plains and dense, isolated forests of low grass-like structures that left zero cover surrounded them in all other directions. They were barely taller than Logan, who himself could see over them to the horizon if he extended his femurs.
But now his Deathworlder, the only companion he'd had for nearly a hundred rises, had vanished. In an unknown area with unknown dangers, and he was far shorter than Logan was.
Logan stared at the grass shifting in the wind. Or maybe it was from the movement of something inside it. He turned in a circle, antenna raised. No good being downwind now; even in the mountain's wind shadow, he couldn't sense Virgil nearby.
Surely when he'd said he was going to look for food and some (primitive carbon) fuel, he hadn't gone in there…? Logan might never find him again in that.
He had to find him. Virgil was too smart to risk getting lost in a place with low visibility. So Logan began walking quickly away from the valley's windy opening. The only direction Virgil could have initially gone.
They didn't know how far along the day cycle was, and so it was pertinent that Logan found Virgil before dark. Predators came out in the dark. Virgil was a capable, but squishy Deathworlder. He'd survived more than his fair share of deadly encounters, but Logan would take no chances.
The Ootago skirted the mountain in the direction he hoped Virgil had gone and just accidentally gotten out of view. He was on the right track: he could see where his Earther had cleanly cut stray stems of the plants away from the denser foliage. He soon spotted a pile of the ones V had already gathered up ahead, where it was surely Virgil who had left them…confirmed when he saw the familiar pleated tracks of Virgil's footwear. But then, where was Virgil?
Logan passed by some boulders that had likely rolled down from the mountain— another thing to be careful of tonight— and came across something odd. It was a large pile of bones. He wouldn't have seen it had he not been carefully scanning the mountain for where Virgil could have gone in search of their necessities…almost like it was deliberately hidden back behind them.
He stared at the ravaged carcass of some large grazing mammal, if he was just going off the teeth and build. It was entirely picked clean with hundreds of shallow, tiny holes in the bones. There was also greyish-white fur everywhere…perhaps all that was left of the creature. It didn't look like it had been there long, as the bones were not yet dry or bleached by the light of its main star. Maybe only a rise or two…
Logan was unnerved. He began to call out for Virgil, desperate to get his eyes on him again, just to ensure he was not in danger. The lower light level was more noticeable now…night was approaching within the next few turns. The star was slowly setting behind Logan. Logan did not know enough about the planet to know how long the days and nights were. He could at least estimate, if he knew the tilt of the planet, the size, or where on its latitudes they had landed…
Logan was physically unable to repeat a lot of sounds in Virgil’s limited Earth language and broken common, but he was able to make an elongated “V” sound. That was his way of calling him. When that didn't seem to be loud enough, he risked whistling, as that was a loud and clear sound both he and Virgil could make for signaling.
Logan continued around another outcropping of the mountainside and whistled again. He finally— thankfully — heard Virgil whistle back before he saw him, but Logan zeroed in on where the sound had originated from, his antenna guiding him directly to the source. He quickly found Virgil in a relatively small bowl-shaped cutout set into the mountain. But his shipmate wasn't alone.
Logan froze, horrified as his one true friend in this universe was crouching in the middle of a horde of furry, ravenous creatures. Logan had no idea what they were.
They were small, not even coming up to Virgil's knees as they sat up on their hind legs watching him with strikingly orange eyes…and grey-white fur.
Logan had to resist the urge to flee. He wasn't going to leave Virgil. Virgil had been the only friend he ever had, they were bonded in a way only those who had been through peril together could. Virgil understood him like no one else in the universe did. The kind, fierce little Earther meant more to him than he had the words or experience in life to put a name to. And he was utterly surrounded by 20, possibly 30 of the tripedal, lethal hunters. Virgil was being corralled for the kill, waving at Logan. He wasn't aware he was in danger. He didn't know.
Virgil’s easygoing smile was wiped away when he saw Logan’s frantic threatening gesture, trying to get them to leave or part, but none moved from their circle. One started to clack its teeth at Logan…it had dozens of razor-sharp little needles. That explained the dents in the bones.
Logan had no idea why they hadn't attacked yet, and thus didn't know what would provoke them. He and Virgil could not defend themselves with their dull knives. Deathworlder or not, V wasn't naturally endowed with armor plates and thick skin; Earthers were optimized in other ways, not many of which would help now.
Logan tried to step closer, but the nearest creatures began hissing, their short tails thumping the ground in sync. Startled, Logan took some steps back. He made a whirring noise of distress.
Virgil trusted him, though, and often Logan knew more about the worlds they ended up on, so he didn't try to ask or reassure him when Logan was giving him notable signals. They had proven to be correct just as often as Virgil saved them through befriending. Virgil just looked nervous as he slowly stood up and tried to inch his way towards Logan.
"Lo…?"
Logan just looked from Virgil to the creatures, insisting that he not stop. More started the tail thumping, irritated by Virgil trying to get out. One leapt suddenly, snapping at his arm. It missed, but Virgil cried out in alarm, apparently seeing their teeth for the first time. Logan was alarmed too as they tried to cut Virgil off as a group.
He was still too far for Logan to get past the barrier they created. Virgil broke out into a run, trying to close the distance.
Another jumped directly at him and Virgil smacked it away on instinct; he kicked at a different one that tried to latch onto his foot. The ones that were behind him began to hop after him, their 3-legged forms creating an odd gait…but they were fast. Logan saw one lunge while Virgil's back was to it.
It bit down on Virgil’s paw and Virgil lurched, his scream cut off. He collapsed before his next step, crashing to the dirt as he lost control of his muscles. It wasn't just pain. No, when Virgil hit the ground, he didn't move like one would to protect themself from the fall or to fling the creature away from him. He didn't even curl up to try and protect himself…he was just still, unnaturally still, and all Logan knew was he had to get to him now.
Logan bulldozed several of the beasts between him and Virgil. Some tried to grab him too, but his legs were narrow targets and he was faster, taller than them.
Logan’s vision narrowed from his elevated stress. He tried to find any sign that Virgil was still alright. He hadn’t gotten up yet, he had to be alright.
They nipped at Virgil’s feet, trying to drag him into the shadows of a nearby burrow.
Logan was quick to grab Virgil, though fearing the worst. Virgil shuddered as Logan scooped him up, though he hung awkwardly in Logan’s arms. Thankfully, Earthers weren’t very big (though they were certainly denser than they looked). Logan managed to tuck him in a way that was hopefully comfortable against his plated chest. The first thing he checked for was if Virgil’s breathing was okay as he scrambled for a way over the pack of furious beasts. Virgil’s breathing was fast, his pulse elevated, which would not help him slow the spread of any possible venom these creatures had. Virgil’s eyes were wide and shaking, staring up at Logan in his distress. He tensed and untensed, clearly trying to move, but even that soon stilled as whatever paralyzing toxin was now in his bloodstream took over completely. Logan kept a mandible pressed to Virgil’s chest gently, both to monitor and reassure himself that V was still alive and breathing so he could focus on fleeing.
The little mammals continued jumping at Logan as well as Virgil, who was dangling helplessly in his arms, and Logan held Virgil protectively over their heads, dodging the attacks.
What was confusing was that they seemed reluctant to actually bite them; Virgil’s bitten paw had several shallow punctures and was bleeding, but not the mutilation that Logan expected from the teeth of creatures who had absolutely shredded through that larger alien. What was it about this area? Were they hiding their prey? Was that why that creature was behind the boulders? What did those places have in common? The burrow…was it the darkness? Getting out of the light? All their efforts just seemed to be trying to keep Logan and Virgil corralled in this isolating area, which meant Logan needed to get out before they decided to change tactics or got lucky in one of their lunges. Logan’s exoskeleton was mostly hard, but he was not willing to test that against jagged teeth that dented bone.
Then one of them got lucky, desperate to keep their prey contained. Logan let out a high whistling sound as it grabbed onto one of his lower arms and twisted with its teeth locked on. The lower part of the limb, in Logan’s distress and flight response, came off from the force of it. Logan flinched at the feeling of it disconnecting, but it was a much kinder fate than what awaited them if they did not get away. It was the second time Logan had lost a limb, so he knew he would recover it just the same. It would still be uncomfortable to function without it for a few rises. At least it was only part of the arm this time.
Logan tucked Virgil’s arms gently over his stomach and tried to reassure him as he raced back into the light, squinting as it was now in his face. His theory was correct: those creatures didn’t follow, but the growing shadow behind them allowed them to start after the duo. Logan stayed as far from the shadows as he could. He snagged the stems and leaves Virgil had been working on as he passed by; they might be all they had for the night. Logan didn’t know how long he had to get more. He didn’t even know for sure if light was all they needed, or if the torch on their ship would be enough. But it was all that he could think to do to save them short of driving the ship solo into the tall grass and its unknown perils. He didn’t know what other creatures--or large rocks–– lurked just under the blanket of green. They didn’t have the fuel to hover high for very long, and the wind was unpredictable. Logan might only be sending them to crash or into the jaws of something far worse.
…If Virgil died, it would be because Logan failed to protect him. After everything they’d both escaped, would this really be where it ended?
Logan saw their sailer ahead and covered the distance. He was back in a quarter of the time it had taken to get to V. He rushed to get Virgil on board, abandoning the plans of camping on the ground or starting a campfire. He needed to fire up their torch before their natural daylight was gone. He laid Virgil down gently on the cabin floor near him, patting his arm gently and making sure he was okay there before focusing. If he thought the torium-alloy frame of the ship was enough to protect them, he might have just tried fortifying the boat, but he wasn’t going to make that their only defense. He fumbled with his nondominant claw and the latch and tiny button mechanisms more suited to dexterous tendrils, paws, and feelers. He wasn’t adequate for this job, he was going too slowly. He could hear them, with their terrifying clatter. They were hungry and zeroing in on this boat. What if he was wrong? They’d be caught in the dark–
No. Virgil was counting on him. Logan couldn’t get in his own head right now. Inadequacies or not, he had to get this done. Virgil would do the same for him. Virgil wouldn’t give in to his panic, he’d push through and do everything he could to save them because it was the only viable option. Logan had to give them that chance. They’d been running for too long and had survived far more danger together. That wouldn’t all be for nothing. Logan could prove he was just as worthy a crewmate. He could do this on his own, his ideas…they could work.
He glanced at Virgil, who was looking between Logan and what he was doing. Virgil trusted him, he knew that. They’d long ago placed their lives in each other's arms, given how easy it was to betray and reap the rewards. Most selfish aliens, or even those who deemed them guilty, would have jumped at the opportunity. But Virgil never had and no riches could replace someone so dear to Logan. Logan wouldn’t choke now, when that trust was tested. At least V would never regret giving it to him then.
Logan ignored the sounds of thumps and dings off the bottom of the boat and didn’t stop even as twilight crept into the cabin. The gangplank had been drawn up, but it was only a matter of time before those things managed the height and precision to land on the deck…Logan swore he heard scratching at the door.
The fuel converter finally fired up after two false starts and Logan started shoving leaves in, enough to keep it burning. It was like the boat itself lit up like a beacon in the dim night. The screeches and scattering of claws were genuinely unnerving, and Logan just sat still for a moment, listening tensely. Aside from the nearby drone of the wind, nothing else could be heard. He chanced looking out the port window.
Little streaks of white fled the immediate clearing, diving into the grass. Orange eyes reflected the light back…so not gone. But he’d been right. He just had to keep this light burning, now, Logan slumped, unwilling to go out. If he had been any slower finding Virgil, the shadows appearing in the dip they'd likely lured Virgil into would have gotten him killed…but they’d survived. They were not actively under attack anymore.
Logan waited until he’d calmed down to scoot over to Virgil. He couldn’t relax or celebrate yet. He had to check in. Virgil hadn’t moved from where Logan set him down. “Ooo-ck…Vv.”
Logan intended to wrap Virgil’s paw and made another distressed noise at how it looked swollen and red. He begged for it not to be an infection as he did the best with their improvised medicine and wrapped it in a clean, torn piece of cloth. V’s face twitched each time Logan touched it and he worried he was hurting him. He would watch it to make sure it didn’t get worse, but there was very little aid Logan could give. He’d risk going to a port city if it meant Virgil would be saved, but they were grounded on this planet for at least half a rise. Virgil was also the one with engineering expertise that could potentially fix their boat. Logan had little hope of figuring that out with no reference, no matter how much he had carefully watched Virgil tend to other things. Logan had only learned to pilot it out of necessity with no formal training. If Virgil didn’t get better, then…this was probably it for them.
Logan pulled Virgil into a supported sitting position and really tried to coax Virgil into drinking from the bubble of water. While amphibious, Logan’s kind could get enough moisture from the air to survive anywhere that wasn’t dry. Virgil’s brand of Deathworlder apparently was far less efficient at it, and so he got most of their liquid water supply. Terra Deathworlders needed a lot of water daily, and Logan feared constantly that V was lacking, though he rarely complained. Logan tried to get him to drink, as it could only help his body fight off the poison.
Virgil grimaced as the cool pod touched his lips and he refused to open them. Logan set it down. He'd try again later.
Logan again peeked out over the side of their boat haven and still saw the dozen pairs of unblinking orange eyes peering back in the foliage. Logan’s carapace shuddered and his gills flexed in unease. He knew they probably wouldn’t approach the boat, but it was still extremely unsettling to depend on it all night. Those creatures were strict darkness hunters from Logan’s observations (he begged the universe that he was right), so as long as their artificial light didn’t go out…
Yeaaaah, Logan knew he wasn’t sleeping tonight either way. He hoped the night passed quickly, before their meager pile of plant fiber fuel dwindled. They would burn quickly, but he had to make it last. His hearts couldn’t take this.
Virgil curled into his side, head resting on Logan’s thorax. Logan stroked Virgil’s back, which normally seemed to calm him. They would be okay, and he tried to reassure the Deathworlder. Logan had gotten them back in time, and they were tentatively safe from imminent danger, but he really hoped it wasn’t the neuropoison hurting V further. How lucky would they have to be for Earthers to actually be immune...? Virgil finally decided to reach out and cling to Logan’s closest forearm, and Logan stilled.
He eyed the paw Virgil was nursing. Logan did not like the vibrating his Deathworlder was doing. Virgil only did that when he was uncomfortable.
Logan started to prod Virgil, trying to see what was wrong. Virgil tucked his face more into Logan, pushing back at the foreleg, and Logan stopped.
Virgil reached out very slowly, as if it was a struggle, to the nub that had been one of Logan’s lower arms and brushed it gently.
Oh. Virgil must be unhappy. Unhappy that Logan got hurt saving him. Virgil hadn't seen him lose a limb before, he didn't know it would come back given some time.
A touching sentiment that Logan still wasn’t used to from the pack bonding types. He didn’t know being cared for felt so nice after the life he’d been thrust into before. Logan chittered softly, mandibles clacking. He’d try. “…grrrr-oh. Ooo-ck. Ooo-ck, Vvvv.”
Virgil glanced up at him silently, and Logan’s gills fluttered more erratically at seeing the wet on Virgil’s face. Logan immediately tapped at it, wishing his tibia were better suited: softer.
He switched to stroking Virgil’s outer coat awkwardly, pulling the loose purple-spotted fur over his head. That normally comforted him; he usually did it to sleep. But after several turns, Virgil was still very much awake and unsettled.
Logan tried something else. He held up the nub that had been his lower right femur before, getting Virgil's attention. Virgil winced upon seeing it and the pale dried hemolymph around the wound, but Logan shook his head as Virgil often did. Virgil looked at him in confusion but focused on the nub again with some hesitance.
Logan put his upper right arm below the nub, then slowly raised it, trying to show Virgil the process of the regeneration that would happen over the coming rises. "…g-g-grrr-oh. Gan?"
He waited for the clarity on Virgil's face as it clicked, and Virgil slumped with relief. "G-Good…worried. Lo okay," he replied. "Saved. Amazing."
Logan made a pleased clacking noise, relieved too. They would be okay. Virgil at least appeared to be fighting off the venom well enough, and that was more than worth still having him, close call or not.
He settled down over Virgil, brushing his head with his mandibles. Logan’s exoskeleton wasn’t useful for warmth, but he knew the gesture often settled the Deathworlder and helped him rest. He pulled the weather tarp over Virgil, though, in the hopes that it would diminish the shaking. It had worked before, but not all creatures shook for the same reason each time.
Virgil slowly reached up and settled a paw on the side of Logan's face, and the look was one Logan wanted to think of as fondness. Logan pressed his head against it, a reassuring weight. He wasn't going anywhere. They would be okay.
Logan watched the light and gradually fed it strips of the plants so it would stay on, diligently keeping an eye on the glowing predators’ all night. Virgil fell asleep, fully trusting Logan would protect him and wake him if necessary. Logan was just glad Virgil was resting, though he made sure the poison wasn't affecting his sleep. Virgil hadn't been concerned about lasting effects, or at least hadn't seemed that way…was this also something familiar to him from Earth?
The thought made Logan's gills twitch. Aside from the temporary paralysis, Virgil just seemed… fine. He was sleeping like normal, still and quiet, but his breathing wasn't any shallower than usual. It was yet another concerning hint at just what Deathworlders could withstand— what they were designed and evolved to be up against in their own world. Especially as a pack.
Logan was certainly glad Virgil had chosen him for a companion. It was an honor to be so accepted and cared for as an individual with value…to be needed. It was more than Logan’s own people would ever give him. To them, he was nothing but a tool to be discarded. To Virgil, Logan was someone living for more. He wasn’t just an inferior copy of a person, but a crewmate…an ally. Logan considered himself an adequate asset to their team, and yet Virgil insisted he was intrinsically valued even without his knowledge and abilities. It was hard to wrap his mind around just being outright wanted. Logan did not want to go on without Virgil. He cared for him too much.
Virigl had given him a scare today, but they were still alive and together. It was one of the better ways to learn a harsh lesson and they'd be far more careful to avoid worse in the future. This planet's closest star began to show on the horizon as they lay there quietly, and Logan, exhausted, could finally just shut his eyes for a turn and appreciate that he hadn’t lost his world and one true home here today. He’d never known a home could be a person until now.
They would find a way off this planet. They would find the way to their haven no matter the setback. A ship and supplies could be replaced, they could survive without. He couldn’t live on without Virgil in his life. And the way Virgil held on in his sleep, unconsciously, Logan figured he truly was just as important to Virgil too.