Chapter 3 It was almost a lonely feeling, floating through space with no real knowledge about where you were. Sure, Johnathan knew he was somewhere between the plant Atu and the space port Zues, but that was nowhere in the big scheme of things. The galaxy was one really big, messed up thing. With too many little things in it. John had had a hard enough time trying to understand Tabanthpy's planet (and species), and visiting Atu... ...well. That experience had been crazy. He couldn't remember how many headaches he'd gotten if he went back and relived it all. He shook his head, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he causally flicked a switch on the ship's console and fingered through a few buttons. He twisted around in his seat, a painful task due to the straps holding him in it, and squinted through the darkness at the back of the room. There a large pile of brightly colored fur loomed. A young bipedal dragonling. And cuddled (cuddled!) into it was Tabanthpy, fast asleep and snoring softly. They'd both end up denying their sleeping arrangements when the woke, he was sure. John's smile twitched wider and he flicked his gaze to the other side of the cockpit. Gleaming orange eyes stared back at him. :You enjoying space so far, Yalazi?: ....:::.... O'Connell and two other crew members were waiting for them when they arrived. Tabanthpsy was alive with excitement, squirming about in his seat with his dragon-bond's right head resting on his knees. He looked like a toddler with his new puppy. A scary thought, all things considered. The bipedal's left head was raised, nodding occasionally to something Tabanthpsy sent to him mentally. Yalazi, John's own dragon-bond, was seated beside him smiling politely and watching his hands dance and skitter across the dashboard, pushing buttons and switching knobs. All too much for a youngling like herself to fully understand, but she had a determined look in her warm eyes and John had no doubt she'd soon be able to help him out during these flights, pushing buttons of her own. There was a quiet 'whoosh' and dusty clouds swarmed up under the landing pod. It landed with a suction-like noise and John pulled a latch above his head, causing the door behind them to groan and climb upwards, allowing the foursome access out. Tabanthpy undid his seatbelt with a rush and scrambled out of the pod without so much as a whisper sent to either bond. Morticum followed at his heels, and half a minute behind the duo came a grinning John and a curious Yalazi. Despite all their cheerfulness and enthusiasm, they were not greeted with open arms. Infact, the first thing John saw when he stepped out into the florescent lights was a red-faced O'Connell, gritting his teeth and clenching his curled fists. The first thing he heard wasn't any better. "Black. My office. Now." John paled. ....:::.... There was only silence in the little metal cubicle of O'Connell's office. Silence that was steadily fading with the irregular beat of John's foot tapping rapidly against the make-shift rug. The poor man was squirming in his seat like there was no tommorow and his knuckles had gone a bloodless white from gripping the arm of the blue, plush chair too hard. Foot steps, loud and hard, rang down the corridor just outside the office. John froze, stiffened, and slowly twisted around to face the empty desk in front of him. He felt much more like a naughty student sitting in the principal's office than a middle-aged man with multiple phD's in biology currently floating billions of miles away from earth. The door opened with surprising slowness, adding another thick layer of tension to the room. John was sure he'd suffocate soon. Or pass out. He hoped so, anyway. He was gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles were bloodless white. The door fell open, two more steps sounded, and John's death was inside. The door closed with and with an earsplitting 'click' he knew it was locked. O'Connell moved like a sloth towards his chair and sat down, calmly folding his hands on the desktop. For the fleetest of moments John let himself believe that everything was going to be alright and he wasn't about to be throttled. The clock hanging on the right wall of the tiny office ticked away silent, screaming seconds. One by one, one by one, one by one, until, finally, O'Connell spoke. "A year?!" Or screamed, rather. John jerked involuntarily, his foot quickly picking up its pace again,"Yes. Yes, sir." his words came out as a croaked squeak, making him feel even more like that 'rebel' student. O'Connell's lip curled, baring uneven (but very much white) teeth. He'd grown a bush of a mustache since John had last saw him, and it gave him an even more intimidating look. Like a Russian army general with ten thousand troops behind him. John shifted uneasily in his chair. He could already smell foul beads of sweat growing in pregnant drops on his brow. "What in god's good name made you think I could give you an entire years vacation?" O'Connell was seething rage now, and John was sure the splotch of wet that just landed on his cheek was spit. He decided not to comment on that though. He get to might live longer that way. A heavy silence fell over the room again, and O'Connell's bright blue gaze somehow managed to pierce through the thick fog of unease to latch onto John's wavering eyes. Not a word was said and John only just realized O'Connell wanted an answer to that question. An answer John wasn't sure he could give him. "Well,"he said after a long moment in the quiet. He broke their attached gazes to stare at the white-washed walls,"Didn't it come up in the transmission that...that the ceremony wouldn't proceed until the upcoming year?" John heard something snap. A pencil, maybe, but he didn't dare look. "So you're trying to tell me that it's my fault your new crew had to take different, minor, jobs because you were going to be gone for a year?" John's grip on the arm of his chair tightened more, the skin across his knuckles stretched painfully. If he gripped any harder he was positive they'd just split wide open. "You're telling me that it's my fault that I now have to give you and entire new crew of trainees because the others of off an less important missions and can't come back until they're completed. Are you trying to tell me that it's my fault because we somehow skipped over that part of the transmission?" John pulled his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, squeezing his eyes shut to keep in the little pain-tears that began to form there. Everything turned slow and deep and quiet. The rest of O'Connell's words passed through his ears unheard. A tooth sank into the pale flesh of his lip, drawing a droplet of blood. The crimson tear slipped between his teeth to pool on his tongue like liquid copper. A sudden stab of hot white pain coarsed through his skull, splitting his head like an axe was going into it. His body convulsed and one hand flew to his brow as he rocked back in chair with a sharp yowl. O'Connell slammed his fists on his desk and leapt to his feet,"What in the world are you-" John had already lifted himself out of the chair, toppling it over in the process, and with agonizing slowness groped his way to the door and stumbled out before O'Connell could finish his sentence. He was at his heels in seconds, barking orders for him to return. His face had turned an ugly red-purple. John could not return though, even if he wanted to. His head was clearing and the pain fading, but the worst of the damage was yet to come. Tabanthpsy had changed.

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