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Sometimes, Raemos deduced as he glided over a massive drop on the side of the great volcano of Kaiataisel, his wings were very useful and worth the stress. He flapped once and clambered back onto the edge as the red-scaled dragon roared and swiped at one of his colleagues – an orderite girl that used her own wings to harass the beast from above.

Raemos landed, folding his wings and reaffirming his grip on his sword before closing in quickly, slashing at the dragon. It screamed, trying to snap and flame at the orderite in the air while fighting Raemos on the ground with its claws.

Raemos dodged, grunting as a claw grazed him, but that was all the dragon was able to do to him – it's distraction was its downfall as Raemos distracted it just enough for his partner to stun it and cut off its head.

Its hot blood sizzled in a nearby pool of lava as it, as if consumed by its own magic, was reduced to ash and two, brightly glowing, emberous orbs.

“Nice work.” he said to the Orderite, taking his share of the soul and handing one to her.

She accepted gracefully. “And the same to you.” she said breathlessly. She was flushed – his slit-open third eye told him that much – and her eyes blazed with excitement and something else. “Come on, Raemos...” she said, her grin lascivious as she tugged him towards a nearby cave, “a little celebration? We survived after all.”

He tugged his sleeve out of her grasp, gentle but firm. “We're on duty.” he said curtly.

“So what?” she said, raising an eyebrow, “What does that matter? We're not expected to anything for at least an hour or two... so lets have some fun. What about it, Rae?” she asked, loosening the collar of her uniform to reveal some of her smooth skin, “You, me, over there...”

He bit his tongue, holding back an acidic comment about how she should refer to him as Sargent Medrol now, and not as Rae. She was a partner and, sometimes a lover. But her tendency to talk about others behind their back kept her from being a friend. She seemed to think herself more than that, and – moreover – entitled to his time, an attitude that did not encourage Raemos to friendship.

Still, she was good in bed. “When we get back.” he said, “And...” he forced his tone to stay polite, “Would you mind referring to me by my new rank? I would greatly appreciate the formality. Until we're off duty, of course.”

“Gods.” she looked at him sourly, “You are such a priss.”

He said nothing, only made his way down the trail, beckoning her to follow. Yes. When they got back to camp and made their reports and were officially off duty, they would have their fun. And then he would write a report to his command about her that praised her fighting skills in a professional matter and, equally professionally, ask for her to be transferred to another unit.

“No wonder you're single.” she said.

He grit his teeth. Preferably, a unit far away from his own.

(536/300)