Lumbering back down the corridor to the storage area, Tusker was disturbed. Terminated without a second thought if there was any sign of trouble? After they had gone to all that trouble of obtaining the humans in the first place, not to mention constructing a suitable habitat on their vessel...that would seem like a terrible waste. Was what Two-Talon had said about their torture and eventual destruction true also? 'Hrrr! They are just strange little aliens. What do I care,' he thought to himself while striding down the corridor.

Halfway back to the human's enclosure, the lie came back to haunt him; if he didn't care, then why was he even thinking about going back to talk with them? Why even have this conversation with himself? The few minutes he'd spent with the two small creatures had been entertaining; he'd even managed to begin basic communications with them. They were obviously intelligent creatures, although he suspected they weren't quite up to Vanguard levels in that respect.

He'd even discovered that he was quite amused at their badly botched attempt at escape, the silly little creatures had so seriously underestimated him. And, although he hadn't understood what they were saying to each other, the diversionary tactics the darker one employed were quite transparent and laughable... When he'd stood there laughing at them and telling them this, he realized that the interaction had been strangely enjoyable.

Stopping in the corridor, the cold, hard reality of his situation hit him hard. They were aliens and as such they were expendable - his Elders, and by extension, his pack-leader had decreed as much. They were not pets that he could afford to get attached to! He growled out loud, alone in the corridor, becoming angry with himself for his indecision. So why was he going to see the Ancestor-cursed little creatures again? 'Because you are not willing to confront your bond-mate, you pathetic coward,' his own thoughts berated him. 'Anything to avoid a confrontation? Go on...distract yourself with your little alien play-things...'

"Desist!" he cried out before clamping his jaw shut, hoping that he hadn't been observed talking to himself by any of the Victorious-Hunting crew.

Now in a filthy mood, Tusker stormed down the corridor until he reached the turn-off for the storage section. Instead of taking that path, he turned instead toward the medical section for a long overdue discussion with his rebellious bond-mate. He loved Two-Talon with every fibre of his being - the medic had saved his life once, and had been the only one to ever show him any kindness and love. And this despite his various physical deformities, one of which was responsible for his name.

However, he also took his role of being a Vanguard Empire warrior seriously, and it had been ingrained into him from a very young age that his loyalties lay to the Empire above everything else, including his very life.

This wasn't the first time that he and Two-Talon had argued about these fundamental differences in the way they looked at the world. But was it right to put your duty before the ones you loved?

'Arrrgh! That Ancestor-cursed medic has infected me with his crazy ideals! I am a warrior. I have fought hard to get where I am now, and should not be second guessing myself. I follow my pack-leader; he follows the Elders. It is the way of things; it has always been this way for good reason.' Tusker snapped his jaw shut in determination. 'Perhaps I should end things with that crazy medic, for both of our sakes. How dare he argue with our pack-leader! I should march right in there and execute him for sedition!'

Increasing his pace, Tusker ground his teeth together in irritation. When he neared the medical section, memories from the past flashed through his mind. That first time, when they had gone Rank-Beast hunting together in the mist-shrouded forests of Two-Talon's home-world... In the end, it was he who had been hunted that day; the sex had been hard, fast, and intense. No quarter given, or asked for. Another time, attending as his partner to the medical training clan festival. The envious looks of the other Vanguard when the two of them had turned up together. Two-Talon had been so proud of him...

"No more!" he roared out aloud in frustration, smashing his fists against a bulkhead, his extended talons sending sparks spraying across the metal. 'Get a grip Tusker! You are an elite warrior, so begin acting like one! Do it now - end it! One way or another, you should end it!' his thoughts screamed at him.

Unbidden, more memories surfaced, this time of the time he had taken Two-Talon to his brood clan gathering for their bonding ceremony flashed through his mind and he clutched at his chest, feeling the slight parallel ridges of the scars under his skinsuit. The validation he had felt, when the clan Elders had smiled their approval of the union. While their bonding would never provide offspring, it still brought great honor to his clan. Half blind from tears of anger and confusion, Tusker thundered past the medical section hatch back towards the storage section, conflicting feelings tearing him apart.
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 devillo is the artist behind this rather moody pic of Tusker, Two-Talon's warrior lover from The Cold Wind novel I wrote a while back. Thanks Devillo, this looks fantastic and recreates the feeling of this section of the story nicely.