For Promise Yet Unbroken

by Tygati

  Promise didn't move as Jeremey settled one hand on his shoulder to steady himself, leaning forward with more courage than he knew he possessed. The first brush of lips was soft, hesitant, and nearly eclipsed by the pounding of Jeremey's heart. Then Promise shifted, just a bit, and it was suddenly right in every way imaginable.

  In some ways it was like kissing Harry—the rush, the warmth, the softness—but in other ways, far more important ways, it was entirely different. Gone was the nervousness, the anxiety that had plagued him. Gone was the fear, the doubt, to be replaced by something infinitely more precious.

  Trust.

  Gentle hands slid around his waist, pulling him closer. He leaned into the heat that Promise radiated, enveloped in the deliciously spicy scent of dragon. Of their own accord, his hands drifted up to tangle in the silken strands of sapphire hair that Promise had gone to all the trouble of learning how to grow. For him, he knew. Like so many other things, Promise had done it just for him.

  How many other ways had Promise silently been saying "I love you" that Jeremey had never noticed?

  Eventually, their lips separated, though their breaths remained mingled. One of Promise's hands ran slowly down Jeremey's back, then lifted and repeated the path, over and over. Waiting, Jeremey realized.

  For him.

  Jeremey licked his lips. His scrambled mind couldn't focus, his thoughts scattered in every direction, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

  "Hi."

  The corners of Promise's mouth quirked upwards. "Hi."

  Jeremey couldn't help it. He started giggling. Promise blinked at him, then he too began to laugh. In moments they were collapsed against one another on the floor, immersed in helpless laughter.

  "Well," Promise said once they finally regained control of themselves, "I will take that as a positive sign."

  "Yeah," Jeremey agreed, disinclined to move his head from where it was resting on Promise's shoulder, "that sounds about right. Although, if you wouldn't mind moving your right leg, I think you're squishing one of my bruises."

  Jeremey winced as Promise obligingly moved. "No, the other one."

  Promise wiggled again, then yelped as all of his leg moving unbalanced him and he fell forward, knocking Jeremey over as well.

  Jeremey blinked up at where Promise was sprawled atop him, unable to help the grin that spread across his face.

  "Hi."

  Promise blinked, then his mouth twitched before finally he dropped his head to Jeremey's shoulder as ripples of silent laughter wracked his body.

  Jeremey smiled and wrapped his arms around Promise, holding his dragon close. His. He liked the sound of that. Someone who loved him in spite of everything and whom he could love unconditionally.

  Of course it was Promise. It had always been Promise; he just hadn't thought about it that way before. There would never be anyone in his life more important to him than Promise.

  "What are you thinking?" Promise asked, tapping the tip of Jeremey's nose with one finger.

  "I think I've loved you since I met you," Jeremey said cheerfully. "I just needed it pointed out to me."

  Promise snickered. "Well," he said slowly, "you've never exactly been a quick learner…"

  "Hey!" Jeremey sputtered, his burgeoning protests promptly silenced by another kiss.

  It was a sneaky way to win an argument but, as he had to admit, very effective.

  FOURTEEN

  The Vek were not expecting an assault on their homeworld.

  Airi, whose blue skin and pearlescent horns marked her as the same species as General Sini, explained that the Vek assumed that no attack of that nature would be attempted because it had never been attempted before. That didn't mean that the Galactic Federation hadn't considered an assault numerous times, but before it had always been ruled out as being too much risk with little hope of victory.

  This time would be different, as the goal was to wreak very specific havoc rather than seeking mass destruction. Dheran would bring them in over one of the poles, utilizing some quirk of the atmosphere there to bolster the Pele's stealth technology while they descended. They would drop off Promise and Jeremey just outside the Imperial city before retreating to a secure location to wait.

  Jeremey and Promise would have one hour—"One hour," Sam stressed—to get themselves into position before the rest of the team would set about making the biggest distraction in recorded history, the prospect of which made the normally reserved Binh-Duc-Tu appear positively gleeful. It was a little disturbing.

  The hardest part, they had thought, would be how to stay out of sight until they could get into position. Promise had solved that problem—and startled the daylights out of everyone else—by revealing that Zorevan had been coaching him in how to more accurately assume the form of a Vek. He almost had it perfect, save for the small detail of color. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not manage to make himself any color other than blue.

  "Don't worry, this I've got," Sam had laughed, disappearing into the depths of the ship and reappearing a few minutes later with a box full of bottles, tubes, and brushes. She and Dheran, whose multiple limbs made him very handy for this kind of undertaking, had then proceeded to painstakingly paint Promise to match Vek coloration from head to toe.

  As plans went, it seemed solid. Of course, as the saying went, no plan ever survived the first confrontation with the enemy.

  Dheran brought them in over the pole as planned, the Pele skimming low to the ground as it sped across the landscape. They set down undetected in an empty field on the outskirts of the city, Promise and Jeremey darting for cover as the Pele took off again behind them. They wove their way deeper into the city, keeping out of sight until it became impossible to progress any further without being seen. Then they waited, tense, for the promised distraction.

  They did not have to wait long.

  "Woah," Jeremey breathed, Promise echoing the sentiment as they watched an enormous fireball ripple into the sky, followed shortly by billowing smoke. That was a distraction.

  All around them people began running, some toward the destruction, some away. A select handful took off at a quick march in the direction of the Imperial palace, exactly where Promise and Jeremey wanted to go. In all of the chaos, no one noticed Promise and Jeremey following until they were practically at the front door.

  One of the Vek snarled something, menacing its weapon. Promise snarled back and gave Jeremey a shove forward. Jeremey went with it, endeavoring to look a little bit angry and a lot afraid as Promise made his claim of capturing this human spy and demanding to see the warlord. Or something along those lines, anyway. While the pronunciation was no problem for him, he was still having some difficulty with some of the Vek vocabulary. There were a lot of similarities between the dragon language and that of the Vek, due to their common ancestry, but there had also been numerous changes. Hopefully the crash course he'd been given on board the Pele would be enough to fill in the gaps.

  What, exactly, was being said, Jeremey didn't know, although he knew the conversation was over when the guard stepped aside and Promise pushed Jeremey forward. It wasn't too difficult of a task to look suitably intimidated as they entered the ominous building, given the way his stomach was churning in trepidation. Hopefully he wouldn't do something completely humiliating, like throw up.

  Whoever had designed the Vek Imperial palace appeared to be of a similar mindset as the person who designed the Council building back on Rylon. Everything was huge and ornate, with high arched ceilings and excessive embellishment, many of which looked sharp enough to cut oneself on.

  Fortunately, their destination proved to be only three turns away, so there wasn't a lot of time to get overwhelmed by the décor. Their Vek guide barked something to the guard standing just outside the open archway and the guard replied in kind. Duty completed, the Vek who had brought them this far returned to its post, and the one guarding the door gripped Jeremey's left arm.

  "Come," it ordered, th
e word heavily accented.

  Jeremey was roughly pulled into the large room, Promise fortunately staying close by him. It was, unsurprisingly, built to impress, all pointy angles and pointy ceilings. Jeremey seriously wondered how they all didn't regularly stab themselves on the furnishings.

  There were roughly a dozen Vek in the room, most of them seated around a large—pointy!—table. Two of them rose from their seats as Jeremey was brought in.

  One of the two, slightly larger and with a jagged scar cutting across its temple, demanded something of the guard, who responded. Promise, standing just behind and to Jeremey's right, hissed quietly. Bad news, he could only assume.

  The scarred Vek turned its attention to Jeremey, barking out a string of sounds that Jeremey had no chance of understanding. He stared blankly at the Vek, wincing as the guard poked him roughly. Some humans obviously could comprehend the Vek language, even if they couldn't speak it, as Harry had. However, Jeremey was not Harry, and the sounds made no more sense to him than those of the dragons.

  "I'm sorry," Jeremey snapped, exasperated, when he was prodded again. "I don't know what you said. I don't understand your language."

  The scarred Vek hissed at him, then snapped its teeth. "Witless as the rest of your kind."

  Jeremey bristled, but the Vek didn't give him a chance to respond before continuing.

  "Why have you come to this world, human grub? Your forces are small. You cannot hope to win."

  "Who said anything about winning?" Jeremey asked, playing dumb for the moment.

  The Vek bared its teeth again. "This is not a sound strategy. If you have not come here to win, then you have come here to die."

  "Why can't we just get along?" Jeremey asked impulsively. "Why do we have to keep fighting?" The question had been hovering at the back of his mind since he'd first learned of the war, and so far no one had given him an adequate answer.

  Neither did the Vek.

  "Grubs cannot understand," it spat. "They are weak and have no fire in their hearts."

  Jeremey couldn't help it. He started to laugh. Even the guard jabbing him in the side again did nothing to quell it.

  "You know," he said, grinning maniacally, "I have a friend who might disagree with you on that one."

  The Vek spat something in its own language, but Jeremey didn't care. He could feel the lines of a blaster being pressed into his hand and knew that Promise must have identified the warlord they were after. It was time to go.

  Hand-to-hand combat skills were useful to learn but Jeremey would always be in his element with a blaster and something to aim at. He shot the guard first, in what was probably petty revenge for all the poking, followed by the one that had been questioning him, and then whoever was nearest as all hell broke loose as the Vek all realized he was somehow armed.

  Few, if any, of his shots would kill, though his blaster was set to maximum, as he'd learned that it usually took more than one shot to permanently down a Vek and Jeremey wasn't taking the time to do more than stun them. His job was to cause as much chaos as possible and give Promise the opportunity to strike while everyone else was focused on Jeremey. It was much like fighting a pack of lycodo back on Noman, really. One to distract and the other to make the kill.

  He supposed cackling like a madman as he shot people must have been pretty distracting too. It had taken longer than he'd expected before one of them managed to find a weapon and start firing back.

  Jeremey flung himself out of the way, coming up just in time for Promise to grab him. Together, the two of them ran like hell for the door and the hallway beyond.

  "Mission accomplished?" Jeremey asked as they skidded around a corner and another Vek went down under fire from Jeremey's blaster.

  "That was the emperor," Promise replied, making an abrupt course change as a stream of Vek flooded into the hallway they'd been running down.

  "What?" Jeremey sputtered, barely ducking a streak of blaster fire. "The arrogant one? How? Why? I thought he was supposed to be on the flagship!"

  "I have no idea, but I bit him and the warlord we were sent after so, yes, mission accomplished."

  They skidded to a halt as they found their way blocked by a door that would not open. Promise banged on it several times then took a few steps back. "Stand clear," he growled before shifting to his dragon form.

  It took three strikes before the door buckled and fell, unable to contend with a determined dragon. Promise snorted derisively at it before shifting back, mostly blue again as the majority of the paint used to disguise him had gotten lost somewhere in the transformations.

  Moving forward again, they ran in what they were fairly certain was the direction of the front door, although it was hard to say for sure given how many detours they'd had to make. Three turns later, they finally sighted their goal, thankfully guarded by only a single Vek. Jeremey shot it and they tumbled out the doors and into the light.

  "Lycodo's teeth," Jeremey swore, taking in the crowd of Vek just outside the Imperial palace.

  Promise hissed an expletive in his own language before glancing at Jeremey. "Think you can ride without a saddle?" he asked under his breath.

  Jeremey blinked, then grinned. "Hey, first time for everything."

  Promise grinned back, then transformed.

  For a moment there was dead silence, allowing just enough time for Jeremey to scramble up onto Promise's back, before utter pandemonium erupted. A chorus of shrieks went up as over half of the waiting Vek turned and bolted in sheer terror. The handful who stood their ground were knocked about by those who were fleeing and the few shots fired off went wildly amiss.

  "Do you think maybe they remember dragons?" Jeremey asked wryly, hanging on for dear life as Promise scaled the outer wall of the Imperial palace.

  Promise snorted, though he could make no proper response until he changed back. Instead, he spread his wings and launched himself into the air, powerful muscles flexing between Jeremey's thighs as they rose higher and higher above the city.

  It was very different from riding a dragon with a proper saddle on. He'd never be able to shoot properly from a saddle-less dragon, at least not without considerably more practice. Too much of Jeremey's attention went toward staying on Promise's back, shifting his weight with each subtle movement so that he didn't unbalance himself and fall off.

  At least Promise wasn't quite as spiky as some of the other dragons. That would have been very uncomfortable. If they weren't running for their lives on an enemy planet with no guarantee of survival, Jeremey might have even considered it a pleasant ride. At the very least, he liked being able to feel Promise living and breathing beneath him without the impartiality of the saddle between them.

  "Oh, hey," Jeremey said suddenly, spying somewhat familiar shapes off to their left. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

  Promise let out a bark of laughter and changed course, descending slowly at first then going into a sharp dive once they were nearly over their destination. It wasn't the smoothest landing they'd ever made, but it was good enough given the circumstances. Besides, there wasn't much opportunity to learn how to land amidst parked spacecraft back on Noman.

  Although there were far fewer Vek here than at the Imperial palace, the reaction to Promise was the same. Most bolted, a few stood their ground. Jeremey shot two of them and disarmed the last one by shooting its weapon instead.

  "I don't know about you," he said cheerfully, slipping down off of Promise's back, "but I sure as heck can't fly one of these. But I bet he can."

  Promise whuffed in agreement and made a flying leap, pinning the disarmed and now frantic-looking Vek to the ground. He growled threateningly, though it was purely for show. Jeremey knew full well that he was enjoying this.

  "My friend and I need a ride," Jeremey said, casually sauntering up to the struggling Vek. "Now, you can either help us out with that, or he can bite you and we'll go find someone else a bit more cooperative. What do you think?"

  The Vek began babbling in i
ts native language, sounding panicked. Jeremey frowned and turned ruefully toward Promise.

  "Uh, translation?"

  Promise shifted back. "He'll help us." He smiled down at the Vek, baring his teeth. "Won't you?"

  That prompted another string of babble from their captured Vek and a more normal smile from Promise, who finally let the man up. He pointed toward the nearest ships and said something in the Vek language which the man scrambled to comply with. Anything that got him even a small distance away from the big scary dragon, it seemed.

  "We probably shouldn't be enjoying this," Jeremey laughed as they followed after their erstwhile captive toward one of the ships.

  Promise smiled ruefully. "Probably not," he agreed, "but I will admit that watching them scatter at the mere sight of me is highly entertaining."

  "Oh yeah, 'cause you're just so scary." Jeremey grinned. "They've clearly never had to devise clever ways to retrieve a stolen hat from your devious clutches."

  "I am not devious," Promise refuted, still smiling. "I am simply very good at being distracting when you need a distraction."

  Jeremey looked at him incredulously, stopping just outside the open ship hatch. "Is that what you were doing? Man, you didn't need to put teeth holes in my hat just for that!"

  "I would never put holes in your hat," Promise protested. "I am much more careful than that." He whirled and looked pointedly at their Vek captive. "Am I not?"

  Their captive looked between the two of them in a mixture of confusion and terror. Jeremey supposed they probably did seem a bit strange to someone who had never met them before. And was a member of an alien race they were currently at war with.

  Coming to the same conclusion as Jeremey had, that their Vek captive either didn't understand what they were talking about or was smart enough not to take sides, Promise gave further instructions in the Vek language, which the man hurried to obey.