Codename Alpha: Intervention

There was the distinct smell of iron in the air. I glanced around, trying to get my breath, starting to feel a little queasy. Still, I was finally able to just clear my head and actually think about what the hell just happened

It didn't make sense how he'd known to try and punch me in the face first. There was the distinct, and very alarming, possibility that he had already suspected me for... something, but if that was actually the case, he probably would've brought a weapon or some backup. I was listening closely to the eerie silence in case someone was coming down the stairs to shoot me, but sure enough, nobody was.

He hadn't brought backup or weapons, and nobody was asking for his status over the radio, so it didn't really seem he had known anything, prior to this. The only thing he'd said during the whole exchange was just calling me a bitch, so I didn't even get any answers by way of some kind of cliche villain monolog or whatever.

It was possible he'd picked up on my nervous disposition and presumed I was about to attack him, but at the end of the day, this was all pointless speculation. By some miracle, I had managed to beat him, and he was now laying face first, with his paws behind his back, in a room with no light.

I still couldn't believe I'd managed that.

Looking around the armory more, I saw that the evidence of our fight was minimal, save for some small pools of blood splattered around where we'd fought. Looking closely, I also spotted the tooth I'd knocked out. I walked closer and bent over to examine it, feeling morbidly fascinated. It was one of his canines.

My mouth was hanging open, and without really meaning to I was rubbing my own canines, as if to make sure they were still there. Naturally, they were, but I was more focused on the tooth before me to really care.

I remembered this old guy, a resident in our apartment block back in Korosten, who would tell stories to anyone who came by. They weren't war stories, but rather stories about ancient heroes and things like that which had been passed down from generation to generation through speech. One particular story came to mind here, about the tribal Hyena clans which existed in the Khamit Ergaliev steppes, just west of Korosten. They were a grouping of all the Hyena species, striped, gray, and spotted, and for whatever reason, teeth were a big part of their culture.

Really, I remembered the story only vaguely - after all, I was still a fairly young child at the time, who still hadn't learned to read. The best I could say was that teeth played a large part in the whole story, perhaps something about necklaces, powder, or something of the sort.

I shook my head. Again, at the end of the day, it didn't matter. Looking around, it would be fairly evident to anyone coming in that a fight took place, and so against my better, or more tasteful, judgement, I put the tooth in one of my breast pockets. Holding it in my paw was surreal, and something straight of some abstract dream, and so was my attempt at cleaning up the blood scattered around the room. Since I didn't have a mop, or cloth, or intelligence, I decided to just get on my knees and clean the spots up with my sleeves.

The iron smell which had been lingering was certainly a lot stronger, which definitely did not help with the rapidly building nausea. I really did feel insane doing this - a day ago I'd been playing computer games with an alien, and now I was picking up teeth and wiping up blood with my sleeves.

Regardless, I was also on the lookout for a dufflebag or generally any inconspicuous container I could use to transport weapons in, since I still needed to make those stun gun ration packs, as well as procure a weapon for Lubos to use when we'd take the shuttle bay control room. Plus, this was a unique opportunity - provided I could remember the code, I could get some additional equipment out of the armory before the operation to retake the ship began.