Difference between revisions of "The Aftermath (Genghis Rex)"

Latest revision as of 15:01, 14 April 2015

Genghis Rex's private quarters were completely dark, save for the soft glow of the computer monitor highlighting the contours of his savage visage. He reviewed the battle footage for the fifteenth time and while the reality of Brachio's death was right in front of him, it still seemed to exist within dreamlike haze in the back of his mind.

The normally determined Tyrannosaur slumped in his chair, appearing ghostlike in the flickering light. His eyes were narrow and bloodshot with emotion. He'd never felt this way before ... he was weary, tired, and for the first time in his life, felt /DEFEATED/.

Sure, he'd lost before, but not like this ... loss had always been temporary for him. A minor setback. Something to learn and grow from ... but this ... this was death. Brachio was dead. His friend and colleague for nearly 3 decades was gone forever. Genghis Rex's protector ... the one who often protected him from himself.

The tired Tyrannosaur lowered his head on the desk and closed his eyes, rubbing the scorch marks on the back of his head, sending tiny trickles of pain down his neck.

A parting gift from an old friend.

Styraco stood quietly in his darkened lab examining the massive body laid out in front of him. His beak drawn into a permanent frown and his expressionless beady eyes searching out what they could before the cutting began.

"Plesio, scalpel and rib spreader please." Styraco instructed.

Plesio didn't respond. He just stood there, staring wide eyed at the corpse.

Styraco turned to look at the Tyranno Science Officer, "Plesio?"

Plesio stammered, "But ... he'ssss ... he'sssss our friend ..."

Styraco turned to face Plesio, speaking in an even, emotionless tone, "This" He started, giving the body a sickeningly wet sounding smack, "is NOT our friend. This is cold dead flesh. This is no more Brachio than the fish you had for dinner."

Plesio shook his serpentine head, "No, Ssssstyraco ... I can't do thissss ..."

Styrco nodded, "Brachio is gone, Plesio, but he can still serve a purpose."

Plesio looked away, staring at the ground, "How? You're not ssssugessssting that we reanimate him ..."

"No ...," Styraco cocked his head at the suggestion, plucking his own tools off the tray, "We can learn from the damage to the body and hopefully Brachio's sacrifice will tell us something about the enemy. He can still fight for us ... just in a different way."

Plesio swallowed hard and hissed, "Pleasssssse don't .."

Styraco, not overly familiar with emotional attachment, took in his grief stricken comrade's form and patted him on the shoulder, as he'd seen others do in shows of condolence, "Go check on Legion and see how the conflux is coming along. I'll take care of this myself."

Plesio nodded to the floor and slowly made his way out.

Styraco waited until Plesio left, then shook his head and turned to start his grisly task.

The Triceracop transport set down outside Freeport Station.

"This is as far as I go, you two!" the Tric driver said as he turned to look to Roman and Tricero.

Tricero nodded curtly to the younger Officer, still wondering /WHY/ he'd given his ship to Ankylo and if he was actually going to get it back.

Roman hadn't spoken during the ride back and, unfortunately, the surly Triceratops wasn't the best company when it came to trying to comfort the bereaved. He did his best, but couldn't find any words of encouragement that wouldn't sound patronizing.

The rain that had rolled in was now drenching the two dinosaurs as they walked down the ramp of the transport. It all reminded Tricero of a scene from one of the old Noir novels he was so fond of.

As the transport pulled away, Tricero said, "Come on kid, I'll take care of the paperwork for ya. Let's get you checked out and then I'll get you a ride home ..."

Roman met Tricero's gaze with a blank, emotionless stare. The protofeather mane that trailed down his neck had become soaked and matted from the rain, sweeping across the sauropod's face and neck in a way that reminded Tricero of the wet hair of long haired humans.

He said nothing, merely extending his hand to Tricero. The former T-Cop took Roman's hand and felt something press into his palm. Roman nodded then walked past Tricero and down the sidewalk, without saying a word.

Tricero glanced to his hand and opened it, inside he found exactly what he thought he'd find: Roman's Triceracop Badge. One last look to the young Brachiosaur was rewarded with the sight of Roman pinning Brachio's Tyranno badge to his own chest, then disappearing around the corner.

Tricero sighed, closing his hand around the discarded badge, lowering his head and allowing the rain to pour over him.

Tarpits II hung in the sky over the Serpent's Spine , it's gigantic saurian form, obscured by the fierce storm that was raging outside. The huge mobile battle station once served as the Tyranno flagship during their Earth incursion and was still a mighty construct, even if it had been decommissioned years ago.

Having long been commanded by Genghis Rex, the monstrous metal behemoth now served as Princess Dei's headquarters: a floating death machine whose destructive power could only be matched by Rex's more modern Tarpits III.

"HAH!" Dei shrieked, her feathers rising with excitement as she watched Brachio break across Kakarot's knee over and over again.

Ceasar matched her shout of triumph with a high pitched squeal of his own.

"AGAIN!" Dei hissed, her eyes crazed and wide with excitement.

Ceasar nodded, rewinding the horrifying scene for her to watch again.

Dei raised her claws and mimicked Kakarots' movements as he once again broke Brachio's spine across his knee, breaking an invisible body across her own, "OH YES You magnificent beast! You didn't kill my brother, but you might as well have!"

Her chest heaved deeply as she looked over Kakarot's frozen face, running her claws through it, then darting her head down to the diminutive Caesar, who's multicolored eyes floated around in his head as he chewed absently on one of his feathers.

Her demeanor hovered somewhere between frenzy and disgust as she looked over the Compsognathus' emaciated body, "You smell, Ceasar. Go draw a bath ... I will join you momentarily ..."