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Stories from the Verse
In Version
Chapter 140: Brown 280
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Kondor 254
It was the day off, and Derek was enjoying himself as he taught Ystrang, 1942, and Vashti how to play Charades. He roared in laughter as 1942 tried to guess what Ystrang the Chombito meant as he climbed on top of a couch to show height, and jabbed his fingertips forward like claws, and then held a large imaginary tail behind his back. To Derek, it was clear. The word was ‘Dracorex’, but 1942 was literally spinning in circles in the air in frustration as it called out several dozen increasingly absurd possibilities before time ran out.
The door chime rang as the buzzer sounded, and the irritated Chombito told his partner that it ‘was obviously a Dracorex’. Laughing lightly, Derek went to the door. It was probably Slade and Shella.
It was a Dracorex.
The hunched over green lizardoid took a step forward, and all Derek could think of as he saw the energy weapon at the enemy’s right leg was ‘my friends’. He shoved at the Dracorex, but it rumbled in deep laughter. It began to overpower Derek easily. Derek thought.
“Robot, push me out, and close the door.”
“Derek, no!” Ystrang yelled, but the robot did as commanded, shoved Derek right into the heavier Dracorex, and shut the door behind him. Dropping to the ground, Derek scrambled away. Looking back, he saw the Dracorex, with bits of bone armor on his face and elbows, looking divided as it chose whether to go after Derek or go back into the room. Derek solved this problem by snapping its face with his chain. With a roar, the Dracorex came after him.
Now that I have him safely away from the others, yay me, how do I defeat an armed Dracorex when my laser rifle is in the apartment? He activated the lift, and before it could rise, the Dracorex had gotten on it with him. He dove off, and so it did, but from the ground he held up his new combat knife, and his attacker’s foot with all of its considerable weight pushed down on the sharp knife point.
The bellow that followed shook the hall, and Derek followed up by standing and whipping the chain about its neck. He followed this by a kick in the knee, which brought more pain. The lift was coming down, and suddenly he was flying down the hall. An iron hard hand had grabbed him by the neck, and tossed him.
“Need an Anders to finish your fight, Dracorex?”
“Shut it, you punk, I got this.” Derek used his pain reduction, and pushed himself to his feet just in time to catch a face full of spray coming from little nostrils below the regular nostrils in the Dracorex’s face. All his current pain flared a dozenfold, and on the verge of falling unconscious, he felt a set of Chlorophyte hands pick him up.
“We got him, boss.”
“No, you don’t.” The calm voice sounded down the hall like doom--unutterable, unstoppable doom. The Chlorophyte screamed in terror, and dropped him. Something cracked in his neck, and he versed out.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
