Page 143 of Pets in Space 10

Hazel

Ididn't sleep at all that night. The dragons had destroyed the drone before it could get too close, but it had been a reminder that the game makers were never far away. They were watching us. And they were probably working on plans to destroy us at this very moment.

I dozed fitfully and only Fallin’s strong arms stopped me from giving up on sleep and pacing around the plateau.

He got up at some point and didn’t return, likely plagued by the same restlessness as me.

When dawn rose over the mountain ridge, I was almost relieved to finally get up and spring to action.

The camp was slowly waking, with tyvarin and shifted-tyvarin stretching and yawning everywhere.

Fallin was crouched at the edge of the plateau with one of the newly shifted dragons.

They were deep in discussion, gesturing at a rough map scratched into the dirt with a claw.

Ruby was perched on a boulder beside them, tail flicking like a tiny general waiting to be given her orders.

I stretched, wincing at the stiffness in my limbs. Sleeping curled up between dragon bodies did have a certain comforting warmth – like being wrapped in breathing stone – but it wasn’t exactly ergonomic.

Did this planet have beds? And if not, could we build one?

As I walked over, Fallin looked up. He smiled, but he looked tired and exhausted.

“How many noticed the drone last night?” I asked quietly.

“Too many,” he replied. “It caused a few to panic. One nearly took off again.”

“Have there been any others?”

He nodded. “One, just before dawn. I destroyed it. But it will not be the last. We have to assume we’re being tracked constantly.”

I crouched beside the crude map. It was surprisingly detailed – Fallin’s memory for terrain was unnervingly good. “So what’s the plan?”

He pointed at three areas on the map. “We’re splitting into wings.

Small groups. Each will scout and destroy any surveillance tech they encounter.

If we’re lucky, we’ll blind the game makers in key sectors.

We’ll also keep guards here for any drones sent to investigate the plateau.

If we can take down enough, we’ll force them to divert resources. ”

“Won’t that just make them retaliate faster?”

“Maybe. But they’ll be reacting to us, not controlling us.” He looked at the tyvarin beside him, a lean male with golden scales and no wings. “Kareth here remembers how to use signal jammers. He was… a technician once. He’s about to head to the lab to scavenge for any tech we can use.”

Kareth didn’t speak, but he gave me a solemn nod. I returned it, oddly touched.

“You’re building an army,” I said.

“I’m building a future.” Fallin reached for my hand. “One where we are not hunted. None of us were born on this planet, but maybe we can finally make it our home. A safe home without others to control us. A place where we make the rules.”

I squeezed his fingers, then pulled away gently. “What do you need me to do?”

He hesitated. “Keep the fire warm. Not all tyvarin are ready to join our mission. They will stay here to recover. Keep them steady. I need their minds calm. Your presence helps more than you realise.”

“Sure you don’t just want me to babysit dragons?”

Fallin wrinkled his scaled brow in confusion. “There are no baby dragons here. And some of them will be lying or standing.”

I rolled my eyes and stood. “It’s a human expression.”

His eyes twinkled with mirth. “I know what babysitting means.”

I repressed the urge to give him the finger and instead walked off with my head held high, looking for those who needed some company.

Throughout the day, I worked among the gathered tyvarin, most of them still adjusting to their new forms or memories.

Some of those who’d recovered quickly had hunted and brought mountains of meat, along with scavenged items like blankets, emergency rations and first aid supplies from the lab.

I handed out food, wrapped bandages where I could, and listened – really listened – when they spoke, even if the words came slowly, fragmented by trauma.

Ruby trailed behind me, chirping greetings and occasionally stealing bits of roasted meat.

When a young female tyvarin started to cry – overwhelmed by the memories of her family, her old life, her lost name – I simply held her scaled hand and sat with her until the storm passed. No words. Just presence.

That’s what Fallin had asked of me. And it was enough.

I felt needed. I had an important task and I relished in making the world a little better.

My job back home had never quite given me that feeling.

I’d loved finding artifacts, but a few newly discovered Bronze Age sherds didn’t have an impact on people’s lives.

Only my own. Here, I did more than work towards my own goals and accomplishments.

I was helping the tyvarin. I was making a difference.

As the sun reached its peak, I climbed to the edge of the plateau and looked out across the wide, broken land. Somewhere out there, a storm was brewing. But here, just for now, we had carved out a breath of stillness.

And we would defend it. With fire. With wings. With hope.

The peace didn’t last.

I’d just knelt beside one of the tyvarin – an older one with scars across his back and a wing that hadn’t quite healed – when Ruby let out a sharp chirp. A warning.

I stood immediately, scanning the horizon. A flicker of motion caught my eye, a sliver of sunlight that was too bright to be natural.

A drone.

It hovered low this time, below the clouds, its metallic body gleaming faintly. It kept a distance from us, not approaching, just…watching.

The others noticed it too. A ripple of unease spread across the plateau. A few tyvarin tensed, wings half-lifted. Others backed away, expressions blank with confusion or fear.

Before anyone could move, a crackling sound came from the drone, followed by a male voice.

“We have def-“

It didn’t get to finish its message.

A tyvarin – one of the younger ones who preferred to stay in his dragon form – launched himself into the air with a furious roar.

The drone began to rise, but it was too slow.

A heartbeat later, he slammed into it with his full weight.

The machine crumpled, sparks shooting into the air as they tumbled down in a tangled mess of metal and fury.

The dragon roared again, ripping the remains apart before spitting a final burst of fire onto what was left.

The others roared in approval, but I didn’t join in.

I couldn’t.

Because that voice… it hadn’t sounded threatening. It had been a message, I was sure of it. Maybe a call for parley? Maybe the game makers had an offer for us?

I turned to Fallin, who had appeared at my side during the commotion, his eyes narrowed. His tail wrapped around my waist protectively while he scanned me from top to bottom, as if to reassure him that I was alright.

“Did you hear what it said?” I asked.

“I did.”

“They weren’t attacking. They were trying to talk.”

He didn’t answer right away. “It could be a trick.”

“You don’t trust them,” I said.

He stepped back, hands gesticulating wildly. The sudden cold around my waist where his tail had been seeped all the way to my heart.

“Of course I don’t!” he snapped. “They are the enemy! They did this to us! They have brought us nothing but pain and misery! You don’t know them like I do.

They are twisted, deceitful, and always searching for new ways to make our lives hell.

Whatever they had to say, I’m glad the tyvarin didn’t let them finish.

Their words are poison. Nothing but poison. ”

Smoke rose from his nostrils and mouth, his wings stretched fully extended behind him, quivering with fury. I hated seeing him this angry, this upset – but I also understood his point.

I gently put my hand on his arm, and when he didn’t react, I pulled him into my arms, gently running my hands over the hard base of his wings.

“Can we go away for just a short while?” I whispered softly.

“I love taking care of the tyvarin, but it’s all a bit too much.

I’m not used to being surrounded by this many people all the time.

I need a moment of privacy, just the two of us.

” I pressed my cheek against the scales on his chest, soaking in his warmth.

He didn’t say anything, but he wrapped his arms and wings around me, enveloping me in a cocoon of his scent and attention.

“I feel really selfish right now,” I muttered after a while of simply enjoying his closeness. “They need us. I-“

“No,” he growled. “I am sorry. I have not taken proper care of you. I have given you tasks without asking you about your wellbeing. How this is all affecting you. For a moment, I slipped back into being Tyvaron, ordering others around, only focused on the end goal – the masters’ goal – without considering the individuals’ interests and welfare. ”

He moved his hands to my bum, squeezed once almost playfully, as if to lighten the mood, then lifted me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist, ready for flight.

“Let’s fly. Hold on tight.”