Alternate Start (ARCHIVE)

Chapter Twenty Three: Cold Blood

"General Sunna, we're still a few klicks out from the rendezvous. This blizzard isn't looking any better either." Sparkler said over comms.

Malti was a cold world. It was on the edge of the habitable zone of it's star, skimming the edge of the zone where the planet would freeze entirely. Sparkler was no fool. He could tell that the general was shivering, even through the heavy layers and thermal cloak, he knew that Kaleesh didn't make their own body heat. The Maltiran guide's horns were still giving off an orange glow, and clones held onto each other so they wouldn't get lost, but Commander Cahlay had been told to stick with Krayt Squadron.

General Sunna's movements were getting sluggish. He was made for a tropical climate, not trekking through a meter of snow. Sparkler recalled something that Senator Sellei had told him.

"Kaleesh fall into hibernation if they get too cold."

His eyes widened slightly beneath his helmet. He switched comms over to the medical channel.

"Hey, Plaster, I think General Sunna is getting too cold."
"What?"
"Kaleesh aren't built for this. I think he might be going into hibernation."
"Should I check his body temp?"
"Affirmative. We need to stop somewhere and warm up the general so we aren't showing up with a Sunna 'sicle."

Sparkler watched Plaster move up, speaking into their comm. The guide stopped in her tracks then shifted course. Plaster was forcing General Sunna to move faster, and Sparkler could infer from hand gestures that he was insisting that he's fine. Sparkler rolled his eyes beneath his helmet, reminding himself to call their dear general an idiot when they got to safety.

As it turns out, burrows were plentiful on Malti. Their livestock, the shawe, were big and fluffy, with bioluminescent wool. They often made large, and lukewarm, dens. They were docile enough that they allowed many creatures into the dens during blizzards, and most animals on Malti had an unspoken rule that the dens were a safe space. A space where predators would be ejected if they attacked prey.

Plaster settled the unmoving general against the shawe, pulling away his coat to check his temperature. Eventually, Plaster stood up. "Alright, we can probably rest here for a little while. But, if we want to get out of here quicker, I'm gonna need a squad to warm up the general. We run very warm, so it should help him."

To exactly no one's surprise, Droidbait volunteered Krayt Squadron. To everyone's surprise, General Sunna acted on autopilot and latched onto Droidbait the moment he sat down next to him. To his credit, Droidbait took this in stride, wrapping his arms around the general while his brothers took up their places.

"You're enjoying this way too much Droidbait." He heard Fives mumble, only to get himself lightly kicked in the face by Droidbait. The other clones all settled in various places in the den, some getting cozy with half frozen wild animals. Shev, Senaar, and Ladybird found themselves swarmed by a pack of wild dogs, who's horns glowed softly like the rest.

Sparkler settled himself down next to the shawe lambs, soon finding his legs draped by the three lambs. It was oddly comfortable though. Before he closed his eyes for a moment of shut eye, he glanced at Krayt Squadron and General Sunna.

It was a tangle of limbs, he and DB were tangled up with each other, the other brothers seeming like afterthoughts, essentially being much like the lambs and just draping themselves over or against General Sunna's body. He would definitely be warm, that's for sure.

—
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The last thing he really remembered was Plaster asking him how he was doing.

He did not remember cuddling up with Droidbait and the rest of Krayt squadron in a vod pile inside of a shawe den. He looked helplessly towards Sparkler, who was asleep with three shawe lambs on his legs.

He cursed himself internally for this, but he couldn't help but think that his men looked so young while they slept. Their faces weren't creased in worry, or tangled in rage or sorrow, their faces were calm. A different calm than the one that flooded his senses on the ship. He felt safe with Droidbait curled up against his side. Felt safe surrounded by his men, and he could feel that they felt safe right now as well.

He most certainly didn't hold Droidbait closer, soaking in the body heat while carefully touching curls with his claws.

Kaar definitely didn't feel his heart race a little, or his face turn a dark dusty orange.

But he did.

And he internally cursed himself for it.

•—END OF CHAPTER—•