It was all well and good to tell Jeremey not to ride solo, but it would have been nice if Jack had bothered to tell the others that. Two weeks of sentry duty because no one would ride with him, and when someone finally did it just figured he'd get ditched at the first available opportunity. Personally Jeremey had the suspicion that Montford had used him as a screen to meet up with a lover, given how fast the man had taken off - and in what direction. The Tombstone settlement wasn't all that far away, especially by dragon.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me again," Jeremey commented, petting Promise's neck. "I figure we oughtta stay pretty close to home so we don't find any trouble for Sullivan to yell at me about."

Promise snorted and looked about, picking a direction apparently at random and ambling off. Jeremey let him have his head, not really concerned with their destination. As long as they didn't run into another rachya - or worse, a caraca - he didn't care where they patrolled. And if they did run into trouble, at least he had the sense not to tell anyone this time.

They weren't going to run into any trouble, though. They were going to stay close, in cleared land, and not go looking for any-

Jeremey yelped as the sky cracked overhead, he and Promise both craning their necks upward to see two dark spots streaking across the sky, flashes of light passing through the space between them. As he watched there was a brighter flash on one of the spots, then the other lit up as well. They began to veer apart slightly, both disappearing behind a bluff, and then a moment later Jeremey could hear a low boom. Shortly thereafter he heard a second boom, and then nothing.

What was that? He reached down blindly to stroke Promise's neck and repeated himself aloud. "What was that?"

Promise peered at the bluff, then craned his neck around to look at Jeremey. There was a curious sound, something like a low-pitched trill, and after a moment Jeremey realised that it had come from Promise.

He considered. "We shouldn't... we're not supposed to ride alone... but..." They both turned to look back at where the spots had vanished, and Promise took a querying step forward.

If he went, the odds were pretty good that they'd find trouble again. But he hadn't chosen to be a rider so he could be safe. He'd done it to have the opportunity to keep others safe. From the dangers they knew, and those they didn't.

Jeremey set his jaw. "Let's go."

There was no denying that Promise had been waiting for the command. He launched himself forward with enough power to make Jeremey grab the saddle to stay astride. Then they were off, moving almost at a dragon's top ground speed, the earth nearly flying by beneath them. Promise took advantage of the first available clump of rocks he could find, clambering up them without breaking stride and snapping his wings open.

The first downbeat was always a shock, one Jeremey had learned to brace himself for so that he didn't get thrown forward over Promise's neck. The second was easier, because they were hovering rather than falling, and then the third provided the lift they needed to get properly airborne.

All dragons preferred to glide, but would fly with some encouragement. Some were nearly impossible to coax while others, like Promise, would fly on their own accord. Jeremey hadn't decided yet what the deciding factor was. Size, perhaps. Promise was amongst the more slender dragons. But then Charlie hadn't seemed to have any trouble with Zorevan, and Zorevan was the biggest dragon Jeremey had ever seen.

He shoved his thoughts out of mind as they cleared the bluff and one of the dark things became visible. The other wasn't in sight, but there were some low hills not far off that could easily have hidden it from sight. As Promise circled down toward the black thing Jeremey could make out separate pieces of black - either it had come in multiple pieces, or it had broken when it hit the ground. Given the size of the trench it had made, he was inclined to believe it was the latter.

The closer they got the more obvious it became that whatever it was it was not natural. The planes were too smooth, the angles too even, and there were a number of markings that looked far too deliberate to be anything but. It was also very definitely broken, showing warped, jagged edges where the pieces had separated. Jeremey had a moment to think it was big, enough to fit a whole flock of dragons, then Promise was backwinging to land and all his concentration went into not falling off.

Then with a bone-jarring thump they were down, and neither of them moved for a moment as they stared up at the wreck. Now what?

Cautiously, Jeremey nudged Promise around to one of the broken areas. Here, the smooth, impenetrable wall had been ripped apart, revealing a gaping hole. With a little coaxing he got Promise to stick his head in the middle of it, and Jeremey could shimmy out along Promise's neck until he was clear of the sharp edges and could drop down to the not-quite-level floor. His footsteps seemed echoingly loud even amidst the groaning and creaking of the damaged craft, and he found himself wishing for a moment that Promise was smaller and could come with him.

Oh well, he'd cope. "Stay here," he told the dragon, giving Promise's nose a parting pat before unholstering his blaster and setting off into the darkness.

A few meters in he realized that it wasn't really dark, just dim, and his eyes were beginning to adjust from the brightness of Noman's suns to the faint light of... whatever was glowing. He wasn't sure, and the warping of his shadow seemed to indicate it was coming from all directions. There were a few cross passageways, and on a whim Jeremey turned down one of them. At the next crossroad he turned again - and stopped.

There was a man lying on the floor, a long gash torn into his leg through his pants, blood soaking the fabric and the floor beneath. Jeremey let out a startled oath and scrambled forward, first checking the man's pulse - faint, but there - then casting a critical eye over the wound. There was a lot of blood, but maybe...

Tearing away what was left of the man's trousers, Jeremey fashioned a crude tourniquet, relieved when the bleeding slowed. Though it didn't stop. Left alone the man would bleed to death, which meant Jeremey had to get him back to Fair Valley as soon as possible. Looked like he was done exploring, for now.

The problem was how to get the injured man out to where Promise waited. He was fairly thin, but so was Jeremey. There was no way he'd be able to carry the injured man, but he might be able to pull him.

Only one way to find out. Hooking his hands under the man's arms, Jeremey braced himself and pulled. The relative smoothness of the floor compared with the rough earth outside made it possible, though not at all easy. Jeremey had only managed to get the man moved a meter or two when he stirred, groaning faintly. Jeremey stilled as the man's eyes fluttered open, staring straight ahead for a moment before finally looking around enough to spy Jeremey.

"...wh..." He licked his lips. "Who?" the man croaked.

"My name is Jeremey Jasper," Jeremey supplied. "I'm going to get you to someone who can help." He hesitated. "You hurt your leg pretty bad..."

The man shifted, biting his lip and looking down at the injury. His face looked awfully pale, and Jeremey hoped they made it back to Fair Valley fast enough. He resumed pulling, ignoring the quiet sounds of pain until the man started fighting him.

"What?" Jeremey asked, frustrated. "I have to get you out of here."

Teeth gritted against the pain, the man managed to point at the wall. "Hatch."

Jeremey blinked. "What?"

The man grimaced and repeated himself, a little louder. "Hatch." His brow furrowed, then he added. "Door."

Door? Now that he really looked at it, there was a section of wall that could be considered vaguely door-shaped. Sort of like the one to the archives room in the town hall. The one that had been salvaged from the colony ship that had first brought humans to Noman. Did that then mean this was a space ship? He couldn't think of any other explanation.

Finally, eighty years after Noman had called for help and gotten nothing, someone had come. After the sickness, after the deaths. After Noman's settlers had learned to fight back and survive.

He wanted to be bitter, angry, but his first priority had to be to the wounded man. He could allow his personal feelings to influence him later, once he wasn't the only thing standing between a living being and death. For now, he had to get them out of there, and perhaps the man's door would solve his problem of how to get past the jagged edges of the hole he'd come in through.

It was slightly different from the door to the archives, but not so different that he couldn't figure out how to work it. Twist here, lift there, and shove as hard as you could until it moved. If the ship were operational and powered it would be far easier, but it wasn't. Not that it really mattered. The archives door hadn't been powered since Jeremey's grandfather's time. There were more important things to use their precious energy on, like the wall that kept Noman's deadly predators out of the settlements.

At first it seemed like it wasn't going to move, but eventually the door gave a creaking groan and swung open. Jeremey shaded his eyes against the harsh light of Noman's suns, tipping his hat down lower over his eyes until they readjusted. The ship's rough landing meant that it wasn't quite level, and that put the door a good two meters in the air. Problematic, if he was alone. Fortunately, Jeremey wasn't.

Whistling sharply, Jeremey called Promise's name, smiling to see the dragon come into view a moment later. He laughed as Promise stuck his head through the door to lick him, protesting and cheerfully shoving Promise back when he could get his arms up.

"Behave," Jeremey instructed. "We have a passenger."

Promise turned his head to inspect the injured man, who appeared to have passed out, sniffing curiously. After a moment he snorted and drew back, maneuvering himself so that his saddle was positioned just next to the door. Jeremey hauled the unconscious man over, pondering briefly how he was going to accomplish his task before deciding to just stick with straightforward. He hopped over to stand in Promise's saddle, then reached down and pulled.

The man let out a cry of pain as Jeremey yelped and toppled over backwards. He landed on his shoulder, breath driven out of him, and he simply laid there a moment until he was no longer seeing stars.

When he opened his eyes it was to the sight of Promise's nose, and he gently shoved, wincing at the pain. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, sitting up gingerly. Next time, try a method that didn't involve him falling off Promise. But at least it seemed to have worked, and he scrambled up to check on his passenger, the ache in his shoulder settling down to a dull throb.

Wide blue eyes stared at him from beneath a mussed array of blond hair as he vaulted neatly into his proper spot. The man licked his lips, eyes flicking briefly toward Promise's head before meeting Jeremey's again.

"What... what is that?" he asked.

"Huh?" Jeremey asked. "You mean Promise? He's my dragon."

Those blue eyes widened further. "Dragon?" he repeated.

Jeremey shrugged. "That's what we call them anyway. They're native to Noman, which is where you are." Should he say more than that? He wasn't sure. It wasn't like Noman had ever had visitors before, not since the colonists had first landed eighty years ago. "I'm Jeremey," he added, figuring he couldn't really go wrong with introductions. "Jeremey Jasper."

The blue-eyed man coughed. "Lieutenant Harry Alonzo Longbaugh," he supplied with a wince.

"Okay, Harry," Jeremey said, settling in and wrapping his arms around Harry's waist to get a firm grip on the saddle. "Sit tight and I'll get you back to town where we can get you patched up."

He could feel Harry tense as Promise responded to the slight pressure of Jeremey's knees, then they were moving forward rather swiftly, though not anywhere close to a dragon's top speed. Promise was probably keeping his pace gentle out of courtesy for their injured passenger. Still, the crude bandage wouldn't last forever, so Jeremey gave the command to fly.

There were plenty of rock formations for Promise to climb, and in no time at all they were aloft, winging swiftly toward the settlement, the ground racing by beneath them. Harry didn't make a sound the entire trip, though his face had gone rather white, and it had to have hurt when Promise backwinged to land.

Further thoughts were set aside, however, as startled townsfolk realized that Promise was carrying double and approached with a multitude of questions. Jeremey fended them off as best he could, all the while looking for one of the faces that would know what to do. Either the Doctor, the Mayor, or...

"Settle down!" a voice roared, and Jeremey was flooded with dual relief and consternation. He'd hoped to put off dealing with Jack until later, once Harry was safely to the doctor and it wasn't quite so obvious that Jeremey had come in alone. Still, duty was duty, even if it meant he was going to get in trouble again.

"Ship went down, Sheriff," Jeremey explained into the lull that Jack's presence had created. "Maybe two. About fifteen minutes flight south-southwest. Found this guy, hurt. Needs the Doc."

Jack frowned and looked around, frown deepening when he didn't immediately find what he wanted. "Someone fetch Doc Holliday. You and you, help me get him down," he barked, moving to Promise's side and reaching up to support Harry as Jeremey slid him down with only some slight compensation for his throbbing shoulder. The two men Jack had pointed out formed a chair with their arms to carry Harry, heading for the clinic as soon as he was clear of Promise.

"Jack," Jeremey said as Harry vanished into the crowd, "It wasn't a small ship; there might be more people."

Jack's gaze snapped back to him momentarily, then he spun on one heel and took off for the stables, people scattering out of his way. Jeremey hesitated a moment, then nudged Promise to follow him. As soon as they were within earshot Jack started bellowing, and every rider not out on patrol or watch - that is, all of them but Montford and the two watch dragons at the fence - spilled out in varying states of undress. Jack started snapping out orders as soon as they appeared, sending the first arrivals scrambling for their dragons even as more joined them and were filled in on their way.

The mad dash for the main stable doors was halted as Jack's Putere came barreling out, apparently having heard his rider's voice. He barely even paused in his forward motion as Jack grabbed hold of his saddle and swung himself up, and in the next moment they drew up next to Jeremey.

"When they sort out their heads from their asses," Jack snapped, "Lead them to your ship. Putere!"

Jack's dragon leapt hard into the air, the beat of his wings kicking up dust as they pumped furiously. He grabbed onto the corner of the nearest building, flinging himself up high enough to catch the wind and taking off south as fast as he could fly. Jeremey stared, impressed, until realizing that a good half of the riders were saddled up, waiting for him.

"Promise," Jeremey called, bracing himself, half expecting the dragon to imitate Putere's maneuver. Instead, Promise made a number of strange trilling sounds and led the train of dragons back to the main gate and out before making for the nearest uprising high enough to glide from. Belatedly Jeremey remembered the difficulties most dragons had with flying - while Promise probably could have duplicated Putere's trick, the rest of them had to do it the usual way: get to a height and glide.

Not that Promise was satisfied with gliding. As soon as he was in the air his wings began to beat, riding the thermals up before winging off toward the downed ship. Afraid they'd lose the others, Jeremey twisted around in his saddle, blinking in astonishment to see every one of them following - even Emmett's Fang, who couldn't even be bribed into flying.

But he was flying now. Awkwardly, obviously unused to doing so, but flying none the less. Even from this distance Jeremey could see Emmett's expression of utter shock and sympathized. He couldn't imagine what had happened. Had the dragons picked up on the urgency of the mission, or was it something else? His mind flashed back to the sounds Promise had made before they left. Did dragons have their own language?

There was no time to explore the startling thought, for Promise dove and Jeremey could see the twisted wreckage of Harry's ship. He could also see Putere near one of the jagged holes, though Jack was not in sight. Promise set down next to the piece they'd explored before, then scooted close enough that Jeremey could make the jump from saddle to the still-open door. He remained just long enough so that the next riders to land could see where he'd gone, then headed back into the stygian gloom in search of more survivors.

--

It was past nightfall before they were finally allowed to rest, all persons being accounted for by those whose wounds were minor, and Jeremey wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a week. His shoulder felt like it was on fire after the hard use he'd put it to, and the Doctor Holliday was so swamped with patients that it wasn't worth hanging around for.

Still, it had been worth it. They'd rescued fifteen survivors, and from what he'd managed to overhear the ones who had died had done so in the crash, and not because they hadn't been gotten to in time. That, and the fact that they were a long-range Galactic Federation scout ship, was all Jeremey managed to learn before Doctor Holliday threw everyone out. Including Jack. Jeremey was both impressed and slightly envious, but it wasn't like anyone wanted to cross the Doc. Who knew when you might need him? Especially if you were a rider.

It would have been nice to know how Harry was doing, though. Other than the brief shock he'd gotten from Promise (and really, who could blame him?) he'd held up remarkably well. Jeremey wondered if all Galactic Federation soldiers were like that. Certainly riders who got injured had no problem letting the whole settlement know about it.

Most of them, anyway. He seriously doubted people would know Charlie was hurt unless he was bleeding, and much as he hated to admit it Jack was probably the same way. Or maybe you just couldn't tell when Jack was snarly due to injury since Jack was always snarly.

Something nudged him in the back and Jeremey was just tired enough that it was all it took to topple him over into a heap on the floor. He sat up gingerly, wincing as his shoulder protested all over again, and lifted his head to find Promise peering at him.

"Very funny," Jeremey muttered, swatting the dragon's nose. Promise snorted and nudged him again, knocking him flat on his back with a yelp. "What?" he protested as Promise licked his face. "You've been fed, your bed's clean, quit picking on me!"

After a few more licks Promise subsided enough that Jeremey could get to his feet, wiping dragon drool off his face. "Ew. Now I need to take a bath. Thanks a lot."

He wasn't in the least bit surprised when Promise ignored him in favor of nuzzling his hair, then ambling off toward his stall. Jeremey ran a hand through his loose curls to resettle them, though in all honestly there really wasn't much Promise could have done to make them any worse than they already looked. His hair had long resisted any and all attempts at taming it.

After retrieving his hat from where it had landed when Promise knocked him over, Jeremey made his way through the stables to the sleeping quarters. He still wanted to just collapse into bed, and for a moment seriously considered it, but he really didn't want his bed smelling like dragon drool until the next time the sheets were changed. Dragons themselves smelled rather nice, sort of like muted spices, but they had horrible breath. Doctor Holliday said it was because of the high concentration of bacteria in their saliva. Jeremey didn't care; he just knew it smelled foul.

The bathing room was dark and Jeremey left it that way as he filled one of the big wooden tubs, shucked his clothes, and slid into the water. The heat was blissful, especially once he sank in far enough to submerge his shoulder. Maybe being forced to take a bath wasn't such a chore after all. Certainly his shoulder appreciated it.

He idly washed his face and as much of his body as he could reach above the water, then leaned back and let himself relax in the soothing heat. It had been a long time since he'd been able to enjoy a good soak; there was little time for idle lounging in the life of a rider, so baths were quick, efficient things. Bathing at his aunt's home had been brief by necessity, with six people and only one bathtub.

Deadwood Gulch, then, would have been the last time. A lifetime ago, it sometimes seemed. He occasionally wondered what it would be like to go back. Would it feel like home again, or would he be a stranger? Hard to say. Although he wouldn't go anywhere without Promise. He might not know where 'home' was anymore, but he did know that no place could ever be described in such a way if Promise wasn't there.

With a faint smile for the mischievous dragon, Jeremey closed his eyes.

--

The next time he opened them the water had cooled and he was starting to feel a bit chilled. Jeremey hauled himself up out of the tub and quickly dried off before wriggling back into his clothes. A glance out the window revealed false dawn from the biggest moon; true dawn couldn't be all that much further off. No luck for crawling into bed now, it seemed.

He slipped down the silent hallway to the barracks, changing clothes as quietly as he could and waiting until he was back in the hallway to put his boots on. Dressed, he made his way outside before stopping uncertainly. Where to go? It was too early for much of anything, including breakfast. He supposed he could go see Promise, but the dragon had been up as long as he had and just because Jeremey was up early didn't mean Promise had to be. Still, that left him with remarkably few options.

This early, the streets were still quiet. A faint breeze was blowing, though it could barely even stir the dust on the ground. Jeremey let his gaze roam idly, noting the various darkened buildings, the soft hum of the fence, the watch riders and their dragons.

Oh, Doc Holliday's place. The doctor was probably asleep, but maybe he could check on Harry. He wouldn't even have to wake anyone, just tiptoe in and back out again.

Decided, Jeremey made his way through the sleeping settlement to Doctor Holliday's clinic, letting himself inside as quietly as possible before heading upstairs to the patient recovery rooms. Normally they saw very little use, as all but riders preferred to recover at home, but today they were all full of the ship's wounded, those who'd escaped with only minor injuries having been taken to the town inn. He found Harry in the third room he checked, face turned toward the window, though his head shifted to blink at Jeremey as he entered.

"Oh," Jeremey stammered, flushing. "I didn't know you were awake. I'm sorry."

Harry blinked at him again, then his lips twisted up into a faint smile. "Used to ship time," he stated. "What time is it here?"

Jeremey glanced out the window, taking in the growing light in the distance and considering. "Hmm, little after eight, I think."

"Eight?" Harry echoed, frowning at the oncoming dawn. "You using 24 hour days?"

"Thirty-six," Jeremey corrected with a shake of his head. "Noman's got a slower rotation."

"Ah." The frown faded as Harry looked Jeremey's way again. "I remember you... Jeremey, right? With the..." He hesitated. "Dragon?"

"Yeah." Jeremey grinned. "His name's Promise. I guess there aren't any dragons out in space, huh?"

Harry chuckled softly. "Not like that, no. I've seen a few creatures that could be likened to dragons, but none fit that description nearly so well as yours. Does he breathe fire too?"

Jeremey blinked. "Fire? No... Are dragons supposed to breathe fire?"

Harry laughed. "The storybook ones, anyway." He shook his head, amused. "Dragons. Real dragons." He flashed Jeremey a smile. "So what else does your planet have? We didn't get a very good look before we went down."

Dropping into a convenient chair, Jeremey considered. "Umm... we have a lot of things, I guess. None of the original colonists' imported livestock survived, so we manage with the native animals. Our primary protein comes from the fleep herds, supplemented with any fish we find in the rivers. Ike caught a brand new one last week and they're all arguing over what to name it."

Harry laughed again, warm and rich, and it caused a funny feeling in Jeremey's stomach. "Sounds fairly normal there," he observed, blue eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," Jeremey agreed, heat rising to his cheeks. "Deadwood Gulch was the same way. I could never figure out why they didn't just call them Ugly Fish, Uglier Fish, and Really Ugly Fish, you know?"

Harry doubled over, his shoulders heaving as he laughed helplessly. "Oh... were they really that bad?" he asked once he'd subsided enough to speak.

Jeremey made a face. "Yes. They're even uglier than a rachya, and they don't taste all that good either.

"Reminder to self," Harry commented with a quirky smile, "Don't eat the fish." HE grinned briefly, then his brow furrowed. "What's a rachya?"

"Um." Jeremey hesitated, sobering. How was he supposed to explain rachya to someone who'd never seen one? "Well, they're big. Most of them top three meters. They're covered in a coarse fur and have sharp claws and tusks. The males have horns once they reach adulthood, but the females are faster." He shuddered.

Harry grimaced. "Sounds nasty."

Jeremey nodded. "We lose people to rachya every year," he said softly. "More than to caraca or lycodo, though those are dangerous too."

Harry's blue eyes were wide. "Is there anything here that doesn't try to kill you?" he asked.

Jeremey laughed quietly. "The fleep... a few of the smaller critters... never heard of a death by fishbite either."

That startled a laugh out of Harry. "Safe to go swimming, then. Good to know."

"Ehh." Jeremey wrinkled his nose. "The fish don't bite, but the bugs do. Always plenty of those around the river."

Harry grimaced. "Ugh. Not a place I'd want to call home."

Jeremey shrugged. "You get used to it."

"Maybe." Harry sounded doubtful. "I'd still take any other planet in the Federation if I had to settle down. Mariana, maybe, or Pelor Three. Provided they survive the war, anyway."

"War?" Jeremey blinked. "What war?"

Harry stared at him. "The war. The one that's been going on for a good eighty years now."

Jeremey regarded him blankly. "Noman hasn't heard from the Galactic Federation since we landed... and that was about eighty years ago. Hmm..."

Eighty years... and a war so big that it needed no name; everyone already knew what it was. Could that be why Noman had been forgotten, its settlers left to die? The Galactic Federation had much larger problems to deal with than one group of colonists on a planet that preferred them dead, it seemed.

"Who are you fighting?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "Hard to believe anyone's not at least heard of the war. We're fighting the Vek."

"Vek?" Jeremey repeated thoughtfully. It sounded vaguely familiar, like something he might have heard at school, but he really hadn't paid much attention in school. Actually he hadn't often been in school.

"The Vek empire?" Harry offered, sighing when Jeremey shook his head. "You people really are out of touch. The Vek empire was our ally for a while, until they changed their minds. They're at least as powerful as the entire Galactic Federation. Maybe more so."

"What made them change their minds?" Jeremey asked curiously.

"No one knows. There are a lot of different theories, but nothing confirmed. Prisoners recovered from them have been questioned, but... nothing. The Vek prefer to remain a mystery."

"Huh." Jeremey shook his head. "That's..." He trailed off as a sudden thought struck him. "That other ship... the one that went down with yours. Was that a Vek ship?"

Harry started. "You saw it go down? Where?"

"Um. Over the hills kinda south and west of where we found you." Jeremey blinked. "I completely forgot about it! I'd better tell the Sheriff..." He stood swiftly, and caught an odd expression in Harry's eyes.

"You're leaving? The sun's not up."

Jeremey wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, but Jack'll be more pissed if I wait. Not that he won't be plenty pissed I forgot in the first place." He sighed. "Now he's really gonna hate me."

"Why would he hate you?" Harry asked, a faint crease between his brows that slid into a smile. "I can't see how anyone could hate you."

Jeremey laughed sharply. "Oh, you didn't know me growing up. Trust me, it's unusual not to hate me. Jack Sullivan just happens to hate me more than most, which is kinda hard since he's my boss."

"That's..." Harry frowned again. "Does he really hate you? I've served under a number of superiors whose personalities weren't always ideal, but it usually wasn't anything personal. Just your typical hard-ass commanders."

"He hates me," Jeremey stated confidently. "He isn't nice to anyone, but he takes special pleasure in chewing me out. It's kinda funny, in a way. The people back in Deadwood Gulch had much more reason to hate my guts, but it's the one I've never pulled any shit with that actually does." He sighed in frustration, pulling his hat off for a moment to run a hand through his hair before replacing it. "Oh well. See you later, Harry?"

The smile Harry flashed him was bright and cheerful, and made his stomach do strange things again. "You'd better. You're the only person I know on this rock. And from what I've seen, the cutest too." He winked, and Jeremey could feel his face heating as his stomach decided to tumble end over end.

"I... um... I... ah... thanks," Jeremey stammered, backing away until he collided with the door then groping blindly for the handle. "I'll... um... I'll see you... later... around... Bye Harry!" He yanked the door open and fled back downstairs and outside, Harry's warm laughter lingering in his ears long after he could no longer hear it.

Safely back on the street, Jeremey took a moment to get his breathing settled before heading out, making his way through the gradually lightening settlement toward Jack Sullivan's spread. As sheriff he merited his own place, though Jeremey was pretty sure that particular house had been passed down through his family from the legendary Daniel Sullivan. It had an attached stable for Jack's dragon, though it was large enough that it could probably house two or three, and the house itself was just as big. It seemed an awful lot for just one person, but Jack had never gotten around to getting married, much to the ongoing consternation of many of the town's ladies. Jeremey wasn't sure why they cared; certainly he wouldn't want to live with Jack. He could barely handle working with the man.

Oh well. At least it meant there wouldn't be any witnesses to watch him get chewed out yet again. Hopefully.

With a heavy heart he trudged up the front walk of Jack's spread and steeled himself as he approached the door. Just before he got to it the door suddenly swung open and Jack stepped out, stopping in surprise as he noticed Jeremey. "Jasper? What're you doing here?"

"There was another ship!" Jeremey blurted out. "Vek or something and there's a war and-"

Jack cut him off with a swift gesture. "I know." He stepped out of the doorway, forcing Jeremey to take a few steps back. Behind him were two people, a man and a woman. They were dressed normally, though the clothing didn't fit either of them quite right and Jeremey knew he'd never seen them before. The woman glanced over him disinterestedly, but the man fixed him with a sharp gaze.

"You saw the Vek cruiser go down?" he demanded. "You know where it landed?"

Jeremey fought the urge to step back from that piercing look. "Uh, yes... sir?"

The man turned to Jack. "Then we should depart at once, while there is still a chance they are near the crash site."

The look Jack shot Jeremey wasn't his usual scowl, but it wasn't exactly encouraging either. If anything, Jack almost seemed... resigned.

"I'll wake my riders. Your people..."

"Those that can walk are ready to fight," the man said, cutting him off. "Major, if you would."

"Sir." The woman made a funny gesture with her hands, then turned and began walking briskly down the street. She wasn't heading for the stable, or the clinic... oh. Probably the inn. If Harry was awake this early, there was a good chance the rest of the people from the ship would be as well.

Including, apparently, the two who'd been with Jack. Jeremey wondered who they were. Some sort of leaders?"

"Jasper."

Jeremey started, jerking his gaze away from the woman's retreating back and noticed Jack was watching him. "Sheriff?"

"Accompany Colonel Brocius to the stables. Ready your dragon. I'll meet you there." Jack nodded once to the man (Colonel Brocius, apparently) before turning and striding crisply for his own stable.

Jeremey turned back to Colonel Brocius and found that the man was already watching him.

"Let's go," Brocius said firmly, setting off swiftly down the street and making Jeremey have to run to catch up with him. "No time to waste. Can't let those bastards get entrenched. Hurry up, boy!" Colonel Brocius increased his pace again, and Jeremey gave up trying to walk altogether, settling into a quick jog instead.

In almost no time at all they reached the stables, and Colonel Brocius finally slowed down - but only because the stable door was in his way. He waited long enough for Jeremey to get the door open then promptly strode through, leaving Jeremey to run to keep up with him. Most of the dragons were still sleeping, including Promise, but the sapphire dragon roused easily enough when Jeremey softly called his name.

"Promise, huh?" Colonel Brocius commented as Promise rose and stretched. "A fine animal." He watched keenly as Jeremey readied Promise and got his saddle on him. The scrutiny was unnerving at first until he noticed Promise staring just as fixedly back, and then it took all his efforts not to laugh at the sight they presented.

Fortunately Jack arrived just as Jeremey was tightening down the last strap. He glanced briefly over Jeremey's work and nodded curtly. "Wait with Putere in the yard," he ordered, turning sharply and heading for the barracks.

Jeremey traded a brief glance with Promise, then had to hurry to catch up to Colonel Brocius, who was already to the stable doors. Promise followed them both at a more leisurely pace, and a few moments later they all joined Putere, Jack's green-brown dragon, out in the yard. Putere ignored Colonel Brocius and Jeremey, instead meeting Promise in the middle of the yard and emitting a series of chirps and low whistles, which Promise answered in kind.

It was fascinating to listen to, though he wondered what they were saying. The sounds dragons made were far more varied than any other animal Jeremey could think of; he wished he knew why. He vaguely remembered teacher talking about animals sharing information about food locations, but Promise and Putere didn't look like they were discussing dinner.

"Fascinating creatures." Colonel Brocius was watching the dragons as well. "Never seen anything quite like that in all my travels. However did you people tame them?"

"Um." Jeremey's brow furrowed. "Well, the story goes that one of the original colonists, Daniel Sullivan, went out into the wild to find something to help us after the original sickness and first meetings with the rachya and stuff, and he found the dragons. They rounded up a few more riders, and the riders and their successors have been protecting us ever since."

Colonel Brocius frowned. "But how do you control them?" he asked.

Control? "Mostly with my knees," Jeremey said slowly, "But they also respond to words and hand signals..."

Colonel Brocius's frown didn't alter. "They are carnivores, correct? How do you keep them from attacking you?"

Jeremey stiffened in outrage. "Promise wouldn't hurt me!" The dragon in question looked over at the sound of his name, then snorted and walked over to coil around Jeremey protectively. "See?" Jeremey pointed out sulkily.

"Fascinating..." Colonel Brocius regarded Promise thoughtfully for a moment. "I wonder if it sees you as some sort of infant dragon. Might explain the protective instinct..." He frowned lightly. "But that would not account for why they obey you. An interesting puzzle."

"He's my friend," Jeremey said, a little more harshly than he intended, feeling a bit stung about the infant dragon comparison. "He helps me 'cause we're friends."

A slight smile flitted across Colonel Brocius's face, the "adult smug" kind that had inspired Jeremey to some of his worst youthful pranks. "Friendship is a concept that applies in strength only to sentient species, not animals," he said, and the patronization Jeremey could hear in his voice set his teeth on edge.

Jeremey drew in a breath, angry retort poised behind clenched teeth, only to swallow it down as riders began spilling out of the barracks, Jack bringing up the rear and snapping orders.

"Dragons saddled for two! Full weaponry! Colonel!" Jack's dark gaze shifted in their direction. "Where are your people?"

"On their way, Sheriff," Colonel Brocius replied calmly, apparently unperturbed by the scowl focused upon him.

Jack muttered something Jeremey didn't hear and then that too-sharp gaze was directed at him. "Jasper! Weapons!"

Promise snorted and crouched down so that Jeremey could swing up and shift the weaponry that was attached to the dragon's saddle to himself. Most of the riders kept their gear together by their bunks, with extras in the big weapons locker. Jeremey, though, had long preferred to keep his with Promise; what safer place could there be?

Almost as soon as he had the last one - his shock-lasso - fastened, someone swung up into the saddle behind him. He started, twisting around and frowning to see Colonel Brocius. "What are you-"

But Brocius wasn't looking at him. Rather, he was staring fixedly at something down the street. Following his gaze, Jeremey saw a half dozen people, some in Galactic Federation uniforms and others in more casual clothing, marching swiftly toward them. The one Colonel Brocius had referred to as "Major" was there, but Harry wasn't. Jeremey quashed his disappointment, knowing there was no reason for it. It wasn't like Harry could walk on that leg anyway.

"Alright people," Colonel Brocius bellowed once the group had come to a halt in the yard. "We're going after that Vek ship. Hopefully we can catch the vipers before they can dig in. Sheriff Sullivan has offered the help of these people and their animals - that gives us an advantage the Vek don't know about. Let's use it!" His gaze swept once more over his people, then he turned toward Jack and nodded. "Sheriff."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You want weapons, follow me. Already got 'em, pick a dragon and mount up." He turned sharply on his heel and stalked back inside, followed a moment later by three of the men from the Galactic Federation. The rest approached whichever dragons had been saddled the quickest - somewhat warily, Jeremey observed with a feeling of mild superiority. The riders didn't look all that much more impressed than Jeremey, though they wouldn't disobey Jack. Jeremey almost wished one of the dragons would snap or growl, but none of them were as bad-tempered as Charlie's Zorevan.

He wondered what Charlie would make of this mess. The Charlie Colcord he remembered wasn't easily rattled, but this was a far cry from facing down a lycodo pack or an angry caraca or Mayor Burke after Jeremey had snitched some of her pies.

They'd been very good pies too.

"Alright," Jack bellowed, and Jeremey startled, not having seen him return. "We're going up against an enemy that's armed, intelligent, and extremely dangerous. No heroics. Those who aren't going are on watch duty. We don't know how far the enemy's gotten or if the settlement is in danger. See anything you don't recognize, shoot it. Understood?"

There were nods and murmured acknowledgements all around, and Jeremey was relieved to see that he was not the only one subtly rechecking his weapons.

"Sheriff," Ben called, frowning, "What're we looking for, exactly?"

Jack glanced at him, then his gaze swiveled towards Jeremey. Or rather, at Colonel Brocius still seated behind him.

"They stand a hand or so over seven feet in height, animalistic features, pointed muzzles, strategic scales, and thick tails. Some of 'em have horns, almost all of them have claws." Colonel Brocius snorted. "Think big ugly lizards with built-in weapons and a taste for torture. I'd advise not to get too close if you can help it."

"Lizards?" Ike repeated, frowning. "They poisonous?"

Colonel Brocius shook his head. "Don't need to be. I still don't advise getting bitten if you can help it. Or clawed for that matter. Never seems to heal quite right."

Some of the other riders looked a little uneasy; Jeremey checked his weapons a third time. Still a full charge. Good. With any luck, it wouldn't run out until after he ran out of targets.

"Oh," Jeremey said softly as something occurred to him. "You said they had weapons... blasters?"

Colonel Brocius snorted. "They're just as well armed as we are. Were," he corrected, grimacing, "before we crashed. Hopefully their supplies were damaged as well."

There was something vaguely unsettling about going up against an enemy you didn't know, bearing arms you didn't know about, and when you weren't really sure if they were where you thought they were supposed to be. But then, if these Vek really were as dangerous as the Galactic Federation people seemed to think, then perhaps it was better to have one advantage - surprise - than none at all.

"Alright, let's go," Jack said, swinging up astride Putere with the Major swinging up behind him. "Jasper, let's see this second ship of yours. Lead the way."

Jeremey nudged Promise out of the yard and into the street, making their way out the gate and far enough away from town for Promise to find his favorite boulder and render himself airborne. As before, every one of the other dragons followed suit despite their usual personal preferences regarding flight. It was still a strange puzzle, but Jack and Putere were right behind them so Jeremey forced his attention back to the matter at hand.

They'd been, hmm, a little east of here when the ships went down. Jeremey corrected Promise's course, watching the landmarks and picturing how it had looked when the ships had gone down. The angle they'd come down at, if they'd been targets he was aiming at and had to account for motion... Yes, like that.

He veered Promise over the hills, subtly correcting their course and angle until it was just where he wanted, dipping down into the jagged valleys and-

"There!"

Colonel Brocius's shout came as a surprise, both to Jeremey and to Promise, who veered up with a soft snort. Jeremey saw the wreckage a moment later, a dark smudge wedged against the lighter stone he was familiar with. Unlike the Galactic Federation ship, this one appeared to be still in one piece, but it was so twisted and torn, jagged holes gaping everywhere, that it hardly seemed possible that anyone could have survived.

Then they were past it and Promise had to shift into a wide arc to circle back. Jeremey could see Putere descending to land, three more dragons following. Four more broke off to circle around and come in from the sides, and by the time they were in place the remaining dragons had caught up and were following Jack down.

Barely had Putere's claws touched the earth before bright flashes appeared; Jeremey recognized the sharp sound of blaster fire.

"They've seen us!" Colonel Brocius exclaimed in dismay. "Take us lower!"

Jeremey gave Promise the command to drop, but the dragon ignored him. Instead, Promise's flight evened out and he shifted into a steady glide, chest muscles tightening. Then an ear-splitting keen emerged from his throat, making Jeremey cry out and clap his hands over his ears. Even muffled he could hear the other dragons' answering cries, so much sharper and more piercing than anything he'd heard a dragon make before.

Apparently it was nothing anyone had heard before, as there was a momentary lull in weapons fire - both theirs and the enemy's. All around them fell an eerie silence, not even the animals stirring, or perhaps he simply couldn't hear them over the ringing in his ears. He drew in a breath, intending to say something - he wasn't sure what - to break the quiet, but before he could the firefight started up again in earnest, blaster fire everywhere, along with other things Jeremey couldn't identify.

Now, finally, Promise obeyed the command to descend, diving sharply through the air toward the source of the enemy fire. Jeremey had his blaster in hand, eyes searching out targets as the world rushed by in a blur. There.

He got four shots off in rapid succession before Promise pulled up out of his dive and their speed took them out of range. Jeremey fully expected Promise to circle back around in another wide loop, but instead the dragon flew straight for a sharp bluff. There was only a moment for Jeremey to brace himself after realization set in, and the impact still jarred him along his entire body as Promise dug his claws into the cliff face, then braced himself and sprang back off the way they'd come.

Behind him came a startled cry - Jeremey managed to grab hold of Colonel Brocius's shirt and steady him, releasing him the moment he was sure the man wouldn't fall and returned his attention to their primary task.

This time he managed to get five shots off, and Promise's about-face trick wasn't nearly so jarring. On the next pass, however, the Vek seemed to have realized they were being targeted from the air and Jeremey could only get off a single shot before having to cling to Promise's saddle so he wouldn't fall. It was a wild ride, up and around and sideways, then abruptly Promise let out a pained roar as one of the shots found their mark.

Before the sound had quite died there came an answer - dozens of them, and suddenly the air was filled with furious dragons.

Unsaddled dragons. Wild dragons.

Promise veered slightly away, wings pumping hard as he acquired more altitude, putting them at the very limit of a blaster's range. From this distance an accurate shot was so difficult that most didn't even try, believing it impossible.

It wasn't, although it was quite the considerable challenge.

Leaning as far out of his saddle as was possible without falling, Jeremey took careful aim at the tiny figures below. He didn't bother with the ones out in the open; those were easy to hit. What he wanted were the ones in concealment, hiding behind rocks and torn pieces of spaceship. The ones it would be practically impossible for the riders on the ground to take down.

One. His aim was slightly off, so the shot only clipped his target, but the second accounted for the variance and the figure went down.

Next? There. Shielded by an outcropping and firing with impunity. Safe, or so he must have believed. He was not counting on Jeremey.

One by one the remaining Vek fell, most to blaster fire but several to the claws of angry wild dragons who dropped on them from above. Jeremey's blaster ran out of charge when there were only a handful left. He swore, but before he could really even begin to consider his options another blaster was shoved in front of him.

"Here," Colonel Brocius said gruffly.

Surprised, Jeremey nevertheless took it, the superior handling on the Galactic Federation weapon letting him take down the remaining targets with ease. A moment later it was over, all fire ceased, and Promise spiraled down to join the other riders and their dragons on the ground. The wild dragons chose to perch on the surrounding cliffs, peering down with apparent curiosity.

Jeremey slid off as soon as Promise's claws touched the earth, finding the wound

the sapphire dragon had taken - a shallow, dark burn across his left hip. It looked painful, but at least it wasn't bleeding.

"Jasper." Jack's voice carried just in advance of the man himself. "How is he?"

"I don't think it's very serious," Jeremey said, turning to find Jack, Promise, and Colonel Brocius watching him. "It's not bleeding."

Promise snorted and snaked his head back to deftly pluck Jeremey's hat off his head, holding it just out of range.

"Hey!" Jeremey protested, reaching ineffectually for the purloined hat. "Yeah, I can see you're feeling just fine. Give that back."

A dry chuckle momentarily distracted him; he'd forgotten they had an audience.

"Excellent marksmanship, lad," Colonel Brocius said with a faint smile, then inclined his head toward Promise. "And equally spectacular flying. Well done, both of you. You make an excellent team."

Jeremey blinked. Promise made a muffled sound and tilted his head to one side, giving Jeremey the opportunity to snatch his hat back.

"Ew," he complained, crinkling his nose up. "You got dragon slobber on it."

There was a round of muffled laughter from the other riders and a few of the Galactic Federation people, and at least one smartass comment Jeremey couldn't quite make out. Colonel Brocius clapped him on the shoulder, though his gaze was on his people.

"Sweep the area, see if there are any survivors. Might be one of those sneaky vipers in hiding. Major, take a small team into the wreck and see if you can figure out what brought them to this planet."

"Sir." The woman made that funny gesture, then pointed at two of the waiting Galactic Federation people. "Drumm, Long, you're with me." The three of them set out for the crashed spaceship while the rest fanned out and began their hunt for surviving Vek.

Jack watched them head out, then grimaced. "Better go give them some backup," he said, gesturing to the waiting riders and vaulting back up into Putere's saddle. Jeremey followed suit a bit more sedately.

"What about them?" Colonel Brocius asked, waving a hand at the still-watching wild dragons. "Where are their riders?"

Jack's grimace widened. "They don't have riders. They're wild."

"Wild!" Colonel Brocius stared up at the flock of dragons circling them. "What are they doing here then? Why are they helping us?"

"Why?" Jack echoed humorlessly, glancing - not at the wild dragons - but at Putere, and then Promise. "It isn't often that an entire settlement worth of riders goes anywhere. I suspect they were curious as to what was going on."

"Remarkable animals," Colonel Brocius said in fascination, still looking up at the many different colors of dragon clinging to the hillsides. As he watched one of the smaller dragons - a vivid orange - took it into its head to shove the nearest dragon - a larger, charcoal grey - off the edge. The bigger dragon squawked and flailed, getting its wings out just in time to avoid a confrontation with the ground. The rest of the dragons all made chittering sounds - Jeremey could have sworn they were laughing - and Jack snorted inelegantly.

"Very funny," he muttered, then added, louder, "Let's move out people."

Promise snorted and began moving before Jeremey even gave the command, snaking through the uneven terrain toward the crashed Vek ship. The other dragons and their riders followed suit, Colonel Brocius catching a ride with Jack this time.

They saw the Galactic Federation soldiers before they saw the Vek they were clustered around. There was something strange about it; it looked nothing like what Jeremey had been expecting, given Colonel Brocius's description. Then one of the soldiers stood and turned, waving to get the Colonel's attention.

"Full evo suits, sir. This planet's atmosphere is well within tolerable levels for Vek; no reason they should need 'em."

Colonel Brocius frowned. "Odd. Do they know something about this planet that we do not?" He looked around at the riders and their dragons. "But then, these people have been here for decades. Perhaps it was merely a precaution."

They moved out again, resuming the search. Jeremey remained quiet for a few minutes, until the curiosity became more than he could bear.

"Colonel Brocius, um, sir, what's an evo suit?"

"Environment suit," Colonel Brocius supplied. "When entering a limited or toxic environment, the suit makes sure the air you get is breathable, clean, and the proper temperature, amongst other things. We most often use them in low atmosphere or vacuum situations, but a number of mining platforms use them to dig in conditions that would otherwise be fatal to humans. Or Vek. Our ship had three such suits, though I don't think any survived the crash."

That could be useful, though if they hadn't survived the crash they probably wouldn't stand up very well to caraca teeth or rachya claws. Not much use on Noman, then.

"Only three?" Jeremey asked curiously. "What about the rest of your people?"

"Remain on the ship," Colonel Brocius supplied immediately, then gave a rueful smile. "When it's not in pieces."

"Sir!" Up ahead, another Galactic Federation soldier waved at the Colonel. "Three Vek here, full evo suits on all of 'em. Mather reports two more to the north, same condition."

Colonel Brocius frowned. "Six evo suits?" he mused aloud. "That's..." He shook his head, face settling into a blank mask, but Jeremey rather thought he caught a glimpse of unease. Certainly Jeremey was starting to feel it.

"Vek ships have more suits than you?" he wondered aloud.

"Not usually, no," Colonel Brocius said, lips compressing to a thin line.

"What the hell does that mean?" Jack demanded.

Colonel Brocius shook his head. "Either they were returning from a hazardous mission, or they know something about this planet that we do not."

"But..." Jeremey trailed off, frowning. There had been people living on Noman for eighty years. Surely if the planet held that kind of danger they would have noticed by now. Everyone would be long dead, unless...

"What if it doesn't affect humans?" he wondered aloud. "Whatever the Vek are protecting against."

Colonel Brocius started visibly. Jack's brows rose, but he said nothing.

"Possible," Colonel Brocius said slowly. "We know their tolerances fall approximately within human levels, but we've never done a truly in-depth study of their physiology..." He considered a few moments more, then shook his head and caught Jack's attention. "We need to get to that ship, see if Major Mulhall has found any such indications. If there is such a weapon on this planet, it could turn the tide of the war in our favor."

Jack's expression didn't change, but Jeremey could have sworn he looked uneasy. A long, still moment passed, then slowly he waved the group onward.