Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 40

"I've still got it." The Commander leaned on the railing as the ship descended into the canopy. He was watching the commissioners below scurry about to tether the ropes thrown from the ship to moor it.

"I know. I saw." The Quartermaster was watching as well. He hadn't been as involved in the development of the airship as the Commander had, so he wasn't really sure what he should be watching for as the people below ran back and forth, but the Commander seemed pleased.

"You saw? When were you above deck?"

"When the Analytics Director and I heard the alarm, we both ran up top. Watching combat and analyzing the monsters is really his specialty-- not inventory-- so he was particularly interested in the rathian's behavior. And I didn't know what to do, so I followed him. I suppose that if the rathian had destroyed the airship, I would have rather been able to see it than fall blindly to my death."

It was a morbid thought, but the Commander just nodded in agreement. It had been a very long time since either of them had been in any real danger (aside from the time the Commander had tried to put on the Quartermaster's pants and couldn't get out of them), so neither of them had really processed the reality of it yet.

"I miss it," the Commander began suddenly. "I miss being on the field. Hunting. The thrill of danger. The exploration. The deadly dance." The Quartermaster wrapped his arm around the Commander's waist. "I miss being able to run without pain. To walk without a limp. I know most people don't notice it, and a good many of the third fleet don't even realize I'm wearing a brace, but there's a difference between a thing going unseen and a thing not existing."

"I know." The Quartermaster pulled the Commander against him. He knew a thing or two about having a part of him be invisible to the world around him like a terrible secret that was neither terrible nor a secret. "The greedy part of me is glad you can't go out on hunts anymore. You're safe in Astera, with me, for the remainder of our days, but the part of me that loves you aches. I see how you watch the hunters go, and I saw you in your element for the first time in years today. I would let you go in a heartbeat if it meant you could hunt again."

The Commander snorted then gently elbowed the Quartermaster. "You would never let me go. No sooner than I would let you go, and I have no intention of ever letting you go."

"It's a good thing we're holding on to each other then."

Their stay with the research base wasn't a vacation. It was a change of scenery, but it was hard work with little more than a moment to catch one's breath. The Commander knew he'd implied it'd be restful, but he also knew the Quartermaster was never under the impression it'd be anything but extra work in a novel location. The most valuable thing the Commander learned during their extended expedition was how the Analytics Director really did his job.

The wyverian man was not really a quartermaster. He was on paper, and his official duties were similar, but he was a quartermaster of men. Not supplies. And he was a scientist at heart. He ran math with the Quartermaster and directed individuals where they needed to be, but most of all he observed the environment around him. It was he who approached the Commander about how to avoid future run-ins with the rathian, and it was he who suggested (on behalf of the researchers) they send out a team to stitch together her wing.

The Commander stared at him in disbelief. "You want us to track, tranq, and fix the rathian that attacked the airship?"

"Yes, Commander. She was defensive because of her nest, and it's likely she's already made it back. While she is dangerous, rathians are intelligent creatures, and she's not likely to attack the airship again. If she does, we'll need to weaponize the ship. But we don't have much time until her wing scars over and is permanently clipped."

The Commander ground his teeth in thought. "Assemble the council that's here. I'm not going to order such a foolhardy mission on the whims of one man." The Quartermaster was not a part of this council. He belonged on the council in Astera, but with his limited knowledge, his input would be superfluous. Both men knew that, and though his rank implied he should have been there for such a decision, he remained behind. When the Analytics Director, the Research Master, the Tech Chief, the head Airship Engineer, and the four hunters most suited to such a mission arrived, the Commander began the meeting.

"The Director here thinks we should subdue the wounded rathian and stitch her wing back together. The Quartermaster has already informed me that we have the supplies to make that happen. The nets, the tranquilizers, suture threads, and first aid equipment to make it happen. However, we don't have an excessive amount of any of those things, and that using them on a rathian may come back to haunt us. As of right now, I am not in favor."

"I believe it would be in our best interest to repair her wing so that she can continue to raise her brood, and we make as small an impact on the ecosystem as possible." The Analytics Director began his argument for the mission. "If she dies, then we will have a vengeful rathalos on our hands. If she lives, we may still have a vengeful rathalos, but that is only certain upon her death. Additionally, she is an animal, and as such she will associate the airship with pain and likely avoid it in the future. In the meanwhile, we would have time to establish a better way to guard the ship."

"I can't say that I've been swayed. Research Master, your thoughts?"

"I would rather have the time afforded by aiding the grounded rathian than deal with the enraged rathalos that is no doubt soon to follow. I have faith in our engineers to develop a lightweight defense to repel or discourage any wyverns that may challenge us."

"Tech Chief? Engineer?" The Commander looked doubtfully at the two men.

"We still need time... I would hate to have to ground the ship, but we need more time to implement the evacuation systems." The Engineer shook his head.

"With a rathalos on the hunt, we'd have no time at all, and all of our hunters would be in danger. I already have plans for things like rathian attacks, and I could have it all established within a few weeks. Leave that to your engineers, Commander." The Tech Chief was a small man, but he was insanely competent. If he said it would be done, then the Commander believed him.

"Then you four hunters," the Commander turned to the commissioners. "It will be up to you to make this happen. Here's what you need to do. Make me proud." As the Commander explained their hunt, the four hunters began to feel a mix of excitement and unease. They would need to be wary of the rathalos as they stitched together the wing of the rathian, but as night fell, they began to feel more and more confident. The next morning, they marched off. That evening, they returned tired and wounded but ultimately successful.