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Desert Air
I believe you were thinking about helping Marcus. Mech was being his normal, calm-witted self. You did not take in to account that we would be recognized.
Jerry cursed his lack of forethought. He should have known that they would have to devolve to sneak under the enemy’s banner. Going undercover, and for what? Marcus? The same guy who would have rather left them for dead?
It is not too late to turn back, Mech told him. He knew better though. His partner, though he had a strong distaste from their charge, would follow through with the plan. Mech would have rather been going in guns ablaze, but that would have been suicide.
And now they were covert, lurking about in a Megadramon form. Mech, having been at Mega for several years, had nearly forgotten how to fly. The two were making a clumsy addition to the army.
I’m beginning to think you didn’t take into account that your lower form doesn’t have any legs. Mech grunted in reply, rather annoyed that Jerry had broached the subject. If there was one thing that Mech didn’t like, it was being reminded of his shortcomings.
I would remember your reaction when we first merged. Leverage. The Digimon didn’t get where he was by playing totally fair. He knew his human partner would never speak of the flying problem again as long as Mech held that piece of knowledge.
Devious, Jerry complimented.
Because I don’t feel like dying today. Marcus had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t going to get out alive. I could have just gone home when ForceWarGreymon told me to.
“Would it have been worth it?” Marcus was a bit put off by the bluntness of the question. How would his partner have known that his old life sucked? He couldn’t have, yet he had asked, clearly knowing something of the matter.
You couldn’t have much liked your old life. And anyway, there isn’t much to go back to now that you’ve been erased from your timeline. Pat had that right. There wasn’t much to go back to even if he hadn’t been erased.
They flew on for a few minutes before either of them spoke again. It wasn’t like I had to come here, Marcus told his partner. I didn’t have to shut down my computer. I could have let it scroll on like that. I could have said no, just as easily as I could’ve gone home.
Pat was silent, thinking of an appropriate response. He didn’t know anything about Marcus other than the fact that he hated just about everything. It occurred to him that Marcus had picked the lesser of two evils by staying with the pack. He decided that that really didn’t matter much. He was going to crack that onyx shell of Marcus’s.
From your attitude, he thought, you had a pretty rough time in your world. I don’t know why you hate us all, but we don’t hate you. Well, maybe Jerry does, but that’s just him.
You wimp. Getting all mushy and philosophical on me.
So, back to my question. Would going back to your world have been worth it? Marcus didn’t answer. Of course it wouldn’t have been worth it. His stepfather hated him. He would accuse him of more than Marcus actually did, and Marcus’ mother would take his side.
I don’t know much about you, Pat told him. If he had to guess, he would say that Marcus definitely thought it better to stay. He was responsible for the human, whether the human hated him or not. Pat’s own parents had fought a lot when he was growing up. But he had learned to deal with it effectively. Not that Pat knew it, but he had a strikingly similar past to Marcus.
You’re my human, he said, and my responsibility, both mentally and physically. I would think that after evolving with me, you would be more inclined to talk. But I suppose I was wrong.
Marcus was in turmoil. How many people back in the Real World had asked him how he was feeling? Or if he was ok? Almost none that he could think of. But here was someone, not even human, who wanted to know him… Marcus couldn't begin to understand it. All he knew was that Pat was trying to do something almost unheard of back home.
Meh. Why does it matter?
It matters because it is affecting how our pack functions. It also affects how we function as partners. Besides, you might find out something in return. Marcus doubted that. What possibly could Marcus find out about Pat? Nothing useful for sure. Why don’t you give it a shot?
He hesitated. Why should he say anything? That wasn’t what he was here for. He was here to fight off ForceWarGreymon, not spill his guts to a monster that, for some reason or another, was acting like he was his father. Or at least what my dad should act like, he thought miserably.
“What about him?”
Nothing now, Marcus replied. There was the enemy, organized and marching. Three long columns stretched for about a mile to the east. What levels are there?
I don’t know. But the more powerful ones are in the middle. Several dozens of large forms made up the center of the mass, while the more medium sized Digimon took up the front and the rear. I don’t think there are any champions down there.
Wonderful.
“Should we be wary of you,” the elder asked, snaking his way up to a fair-sized stool. “After all, it isn’t everyday that we see outsiders.” He studied them carefully, especially Garth.
“No, sir,” Mason said, trying to be respectful. “We’re here for aid.”
“So my sentinels said.” He continued to glare at Garth, and Michael who was sitting on his back. “You realize that this village has been compromised by your being here?”
“It was not our intention,” Mason replied. “All we needed was rest, but ForceWarGreymon followed us.” The Airdramon elder silenced him, wanting a moment to think. Mason quieted for him and went to the back of the group.
“Where are your two allies,” he asked, noticing that Pat and Marcus were not present. “Shouldn’t there be eight of you?”
“Ten, actually,” Mitch answered, taking a mental role call of his own. “Pat and his human went to try and hold them off for as long as they could. Two more, a Machinedramon and his partner went off to help them.”
“How many did you count in their ranks?”
“There were too many to count. All we could do was come here in hopes that we could find some help.” The group stood silent again, waiting for the elder’s response. Mitch was worried most of all though. His old friend was out there trying to buy them time as far as he knew. He didn’t think it was a very befitting end to Mech’s life to be slaughtered in the middle of the desert.
Alice, much in the same position, was worried about Marcus. As for why, she couldn’t tell exactly. All she knew was that he was doing the first unselfish thing she’d ever seen, and it was undoubtedly for her. Why was she so worried, she wondered. Only a fool would be worried about him. She was a fool.
But she shared it with her partner. Though Casey wasn’t quite as worried about Marcus as she was about Pat. The difference between them was that Pat wasn’t an ass. And that was why she liked him. Any reason more was lost in the fog of uncertainty.
Garth’s worries, on the other hand, were centered on the Airdramon village elder who was staring at him and Michael. So what if they were quiet. That didn’t give anyone any right to just stare at them for half an hour. But it didn’t matter. If anything happened, the team would be all over the enemy in a heartbeat.
“Mission, take them to the con room.” An especially serpentine air dragon motioned for the party to follow him. Casey showed only the slightest hesitation at following, while Mitch showed none at all. The elder brought up the rear, trailing shortly behind Garth and Michael.
The con room wasn’t much in the way of spacious, serving only for such crises as the current problem and not much else. It was originally meant to hold only five Airdramon. Now, it held three Champions who were at least twice the size of an average Airdramon (plus their humans), an Ultimate who was double the size of the largest of those champions, and still two more air dragons (one of them on the large size).
It served its purpose, however. They had made room around the small table in the center of the cavern for all of them, thanks to the ability for the humans to merge with their partners. Mitch had to stoop over and Casey was stuck on a perch hanging directly over the table, quite to Alice’s dismay thanks to an unreasonable fear of heights. At present, however, the eight of them were seated in relative comfort for now, discussing the matters at hand.
“That army will be here any moment,” Mitch said, bringing the conference to order. “I’d say hundreds, if not thousands of them. How many are in this village?”
“Thirteen hundred who are able bodied.” The elder was doing a bit more arithmetic in his head. “Three hundred reserves and twenty concealed turrets. That leaves five hundred hatchlings and their caretakers.” Thirteen hundred was an optimistic estimation. “I wouldn’t give our odds more than one in three chances of survival.”
“Oh, well aren’t you Mr. Sunshine!” Mason said sarcastically. “It all depends on how much the others can wipe out before they get here.” Mason hated optimists. But the fact was he was optimistic that Pat would survive.
“Shush, you,” the elder snapped. “This village is very well hidden. We’ll let them reach the turrets, unleash them while they’re unprepared, and then send out the attackers. You two—” he looked at Mason, Casey and Alice, “—you’ll go out afterwards with the ground assault.”
“Ground assault?” Mitch was puzzled. “I thought this village was strictly Airdramon?” When had that changed? He scratched his head in bewilderment. “Why must everything change?”
“There are others. Five hundred of our defenders are not native to this village. They are escaped slaves that have asked for asylum here. We give it to them, with the understanding that they will work and earn they’re living like the rest of us.”
“Fine then,” Alice piped up. “We’ll go out with the attackers. What about Mitch, Garth and Michael?” Garth nodded, giving a silent consent from him and Michael. “They’re ready to fight.”
“The Garurumon, maybe. The child will remain inside with the caretakers.” Garth protested along with the rest. “I will not let a child out on a battle field. He will remain here.”
“Excuse me,” Garth said, surprising almost everyone in the room. “We’ll not go anywhere without Michael. He is my responsibility and he has proven himself in battle already.”
“I’d seriously doubt that,” Mission said. He looked condescendingly at Michael and snickered. “He’s only a human child. What possible good could he do us?”
“I’d like to see you wrench the hand off a BlackWarGreymon.”
Mission’s condescension turned to awe almost instantly. “A child?” He turned to the others skeptically. They nodded in reply, telling him the story. “He did it? The human on your back? I wouldn’t have thought it possible for someone of such a young age.”
“Michael has been through quite a bit.”
“You will both remain inside, then.” Elder was not convinced by the story or by the groups’ pleas. “He may be weary and unable to fight any more. I will compromise though,” he said after the groups’ relentless begging. “They will join the reserve ranks. Does that satisfy you?”
Michael nodded against the wishes of his partner. It was the first time Michael had acknowledged anyone in any form that they had seen. Even if it did come from inside a Garurumon, at least they knew he was alive.
The group seemed surprised at Michael’s reaction. They majority of them had expected him to form some sort of protest. But instead, the village elder had received exactly what he had wanted, cooperation. “Good boy,” he said genuinely. “You would make a good citizen of this village.”
Garth had also started thinking of the young human as family. He was not quite sure of what sort, but nevertheless Michael was a part of him. A vague sense of love for him was beginning to take shape, along with a profound admiration for his shy, but decisive nature.
Obviously, there were bound to be quarrels of interest, like Michael’s quickness to stay inside and Garth’s wanting to be out there. But it was Michael who won out; a responsibility to take care of him overriding his personal wants.
Garth? The meeting continued, the others making their plans for battle, but Garth tuned it out to listen to his human. Garth, Michael said again.
Yes?
Are you mad at me?
Garth hadn’t expected that. He knew the child could sense his emotions like he could sense Michael’s, but he didn’t feel angry. No, not really. It is probably best that we remain here in the enclave. We may be of help to the caretakers.
So you aren’t mad at me? Michael sounded worried and a bit hurt. If you wanna go…
You were right. Don’t worry about it. He tried again to reaffirm Michael. He worried slightly about his emotional and mental health after seeing his mother die. Unlike Casey, he knew what parents were because he had known his. And he couldn’t bear to think of one of them dying. He would have to think on that one.
“Just give it some time.” They’d be there soon. Those Airdramon wanted to help and wouldn’t let them down. “V-Wing Blade.” A column of monsters were killed almost instantly.
If you haven’t noticed, Marcus snapped angrily, we don’t have the time to wait for them! With that, he punched out a diving Mechinorimon and shattered his cockpit-like head. We need help now.
They were panting heavily from the exertion. Pat was getting just as frustrated, and showed it by throwing a second monster down on the desert floor, breaking his neck with a loud snap. Don’t you think I know that!
Marcus backhanded someone behind them. You’re getting sloppy! Pay attention, he ordered, whirling around with a swipe of their blade-like wings. “V-Wing Blade!” The immediate area surrounding them was cleared; giving them a second to rest while the attack subsided.
“Don’t tell me to pay attention, Marcus! I’ve been dueling for well over fifty years. And I can dump you out right now and let them have you.”
I didn’t reject that deal for nothing, Marcus shouted mentally. The onslaught began again. “Dragon Impulse!” I didn’t stay just to die here. I stayed because this is a better life than what I had! Pat was stunned momentarily by the confession. Now pay attention!
Alright. Don’t get your wings in a twist. They smiled subconsciously. Pat ducked low and swiped the feet out from under a foe with their tail. “To count,” he shouted, “we’ve gotten about twenty of ‘em.” He brought a foot down on the fallen enemy’s head, smashing it. “Make that twenty-one!”
As of now, only they had circled around and came up from behind. The problem was that Pat and Marcus were probably at the front of the line deleting anything that happened to cross them.
Well, Jerry said, how are we gonna get up there? The back was in much better condition than the front, being organized still and not affected by the chaos that the other duo was spreading. We can’t just fly up to the front. They’ll see us and attack.
Evolve.
And how’s that going to help. They’ll still attack. Jerry had somehow become a bit of a pessimist when it came to this situation. Maybe we could send up a smoke signal? No dice and Jerry knew it. That would create the same effect and they wouldn’t have time to counter.
It will create confusion back here, send the troops into a panic and give us enough time to get to the front and get the others. It was a sound plan, for the moment. And Jerry could find no flaws to his knowledge. Mech grunted and closed their eyes, preparing to evolve.
“Giga Cannon!” The Machinedramon’s voice boomed out. The attack came next, aimed toward the ground, and launched Mech and Jerry into the air. A quick mode change and they were off, leaving behind mayhem to the point of friendly fire.
It worked! Jerry was entirely surprised at that. He knew he shouldn’t have been, but he was. Where do you suppose they— There wasn’t any need to finish the question. He could distinctly see the explosions of attacks and the pandemonium their counterparts had caused.
The attacks were centered on them now in the air. More firepower than ever was aimed at them and the two were having a difficult time dodging it. Thank God for armor, Pat commented, diving a bit.
“Get low!” Pat did a loop, trying to spot the voice. “Get low and get fast. Strafe them!” He spotted it: a mechanical looking Digimon who was instantly recognizable. “You won’t last long if you don’t get low!”
He’s right Marcus. It was agreed and the two dived to within feet of the enemies’ heads. “V-Wing Blade!” the attack rained down, striking and killing dozens. Even more were hammered into the ground when Mech and Jerry followed it. An immense detonation behind them sent them into turbulence. Marcus straightened them out and banked around for a second strafing run.
“No!” Mech’s voice called. “We don’t have time. We’ve got to go now and get to the village!” They pointed east where a dust storm was kicking up. “It can’t be natural. ForceWarGreymon is coming after us!”
Let’s go Marcus. They’re right.
I know! But I want a piece of him!
Pat growled, slightly scaring Marcus. You’ll get your chance, but right now is not the time. He switched to vocal and called to the Machinedramon. “Lead the way! We’re a bit disoriented right now.”
“It’s this way!”
Away they flew in the direction of the village. Marcus was hoping for a bit of a rest when he got there, but he knew from Pat’s silence that it was not going to happen. It would be days at least, before they could sit.
“Eastern Sky! Two of ‘em!” It was the watchman calling to the underground below. Casey and Alice flashed quickly, then followed the gaze of the watchman to the eastern horizon. Two figures, a large glinting one and a smaller speck were diving and coming in at an increasing rate.
“Don’t shoot them,” Alice shouted, hearing the orders from below. “It’s them! They’re coming in!”
A shout came up from below them. “Get them in here ASAP! As soon as they land, I want them in the conference room!” It was the village leader, demanding still, that they follow his orders exactly.
“Yes, sir,” the watchman called back. They continued to watch the forms come closer, until finally they landed with a thud on the hollow ground where Casey and Alice stood. “The elder wants to see you in the conference room now. They will take you.” The BlackExVeemon complied hastily.
Dedicated, of course, to INS Dragonclaw for ongoing encouragement, as well as to all else who has reviewed. This too, is part of our Author Wars, which, by the by, I am winning.
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