Rahul, Vadim and Geert wound up gathered in the Captain’s office late in the afternoon. They were seated around the conference table, with Dilip looking at some documents next to them. By then, Geert had given up his pistol and stowed it in the ship’s vault.

“So let me get this straight. Not a single trace of activity in the most active areas, except for some kind of demonic crop circle.” He waved a paw over a copy of Rahul’s picture of the symbol on his desk. “But when you go to a place that must have held ten people tops at the time of the transformation, you immediately find someone.”

“I can’t explain that sir.” Geert shrugged. “From the looks of it, it’s like everything just stopped at the same time we got transported forward in time.”

“Do you mean at night or in the morning when we reappeared?”

“At night sir. The guard we rescued was on a night patrol when it happened.”

“Ah yes, Corporal De Mesmaeker, correct?” Geert nodded. “How is he doing?”

“Still unconscious, but his vitals are stable. I patched up his wounds and gave him an IV to compensate for the loss of fluids. No idea when he might wake up however.” Vadim said.

“A positive nevertheless. I’m glad we could save him. Now, there’s something that worries me… have you identified the cause of his injuries? I heard from Mohammed when he got back that you suspected a wild dog attack.”

“That is indeed one of the possibilities sir, albeit not the only one or the most probable by a long shot. The state of the corporal and his dog point towards something bigger than a regular dog.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I examined his flak jacket, and while its protection is not compromised, it has sustained a lot more damage than a dog should be able to inflict. Furthermore, both the dog and its master bear wounds that are much deeper than expected.”

“Something bigger then, a wolf?”

“There are no wolves in Belgium sir.” Geert politely remarked.

“Any indication that might give us a clue, De Vries?” The Captain asked.

“As a matter of fact, Mohammed pointed out earlier how much of the vegetation and lawns in the area are heavily damaged. In each case, one of which is the site where we found the casualties, paw prints assumed to belong to a large canine have been found.”

“Excuse me, but should we not be concerned at the presence of a soviet submarine in the marina?” Rahul said.

“It’s a museum ship. I personally visited it once with some company representatives.” Dilip dismissed the other Indian’s argument with a wave of his paw. “Back to our ‘large dog’, is it the only clue?”

“Until De Mesmaeker wakes up and tells us, yes it is.”

“Do you think it could be an animal that was being shipped at the time of the catastrophe?”

“Unlikely since most transit either through Rotterdam or Antwerp. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I wouldn’t bet my wages on that. Animal transportation is a rare occurrence here, particularly when it comes to predators.”

Dilip reclined back in his chair, slowly stroking the side of his muzzle with a claw. He looked at a drawing on a chart depicting the activities of the other groups.

“You know, this turn of events puts us in a bad position. I’m thankful that no other team has reported any of the signs you witnessed around the marina and the base, but this issue has to be addressed. I don’t want anyone to wind up injured because they were not properly equipped to deal with that threat.”

“You don’t believe the less lethal equipment we have can deal with that.” Vadim guessed.

“Correct, I don’t. It might be effective against rioters and hippies stalling the ship, but when you see what that thing does to vegetation, I don’t think it works for Greenpeace. We need something better.”

“And that something wouldn’t by any chance be held within the confines of a military installation?” Vadim said.

Geert stared at the two men like they had suddenly sprouted a second head.

“You want to steal weapons from a navy armory? Do we really need to do that?”

“I’m afraid it is De Vries” Dilip stated. “I can’t send out my men around the port with no means of defending themselves from some as of yet unidentified foe. If I recall correctly, you picked up a weapon yourself at the base.”

“But I didn’t even know how to use it.” The parrot responded “And I don’t think many of us on this vessel do. We’re merchants, not navy.”

“I know that all too well, and I admit the consideration is not completely unjustified. That doesn’t change the fact we need a mean of defending ourselves, and the base can provide that.” He gave his subordinate a sympathetic look. “Believe me; I’m not starting to mistake this ship’s crew for the kind of mariners I work with when I’m with the navy cadets in India. I cannot and will not treat you the way I treat subordinates in the military. Does that answer satisfy you?”

“Yes sir.” Geert relented.

“And regarding your worries about how to use them. I think you will be surprised to know that a handful of crewmembers have a measure of military experience. Other than me, that is.”

“Really?” The parrot quirked his feathery eyebrows.

“Yes really.” The bronze furred dog tapped a stack of files on his desk. “I have skimmed through some data files to get a better look at that. It came with a few surprises. I counted three of them with a significant experience. The most impressive of which being that of Artyom, of all people.”

“Artyom is ex-military? You kidding?” Vadim asked incredulously.

“I’m very much serious Zinoviya.” Dilip said. “Our dear boatswain, as it turns out, has served for several years with the VDV before becoming a seafarer following an injury, if his file doesn’t lie.”

The griffon’s beak almost dropped to the floor at that announcement.

“What’s the VDV?” Geert asked, not really knowing how he was supposed to react.

“Russian paratroopers, also known as the blue berets.” Vadim whispered.

“Are you alright Vadim?” The Captain asked.

“Yeah, I am. Just… Fuck I’m lucky he’s rather chill considering how hard I’ve pranked him. I mean, you know these guys? They’re the type to rip your heart out with a spoon if you cross them. I mean… damn.”

“That good uh?” Geert mused.

“Yep. Good thing we have him along then.” Dilip concluded. “Now, back on track, the salvaging team has already gotten a fair amount of supplies for now, and the guys with the fuel are advancing at a decent pace. The chemical terminal is now a non-issue because it seems the controls had an automatic control switch, which we turned on. I’ve decided to call off all teams except yours and the fuel barge. We only have two guns for now, so that’s one per team.”

The dog paused to take a look at some papers in front of him, in particular the plan Rahul had found about the navy base.

“I fail to see notes regarding an armory on that plan.”

“Sir, I assume it is not a location they would want to advertise.” Rahul said.

“Then it’s pretty clear to me. Tomorrow you will go with Artyom and search for that armory. Hopefully by then our casualty will have woken to give us some indications.”

“What about me?” Vadim asked.

“You are and remain our sole medically gifted crewmember. You stay on Amandine.”

The Ukrainian griffon visibly deflated.

“Have we found any vehicle? To help with transporting the weapons, if we find them.”

“Yes De Vries, I don’t know if you have a truck license, but the salvage team has gotten half a dozen of them for which we could find enough spare parts.”

“Why the spare parts?”

“If we intend to keep them, we will have to fix them at some point, so I made sure they picked trucks from a garage with enough parts. We got four regular semi trucks and two eight-wheelers with crane and hook lift. Even got some flatbeds to go with those.”

“Alright Captain. That will be done tomorrow. Anything else that needs to be addressed today?”

“Not on my end. Roberto might need some assistance in his office; he’s been downloading ground charts and data via the satellite connection. I figure he might tell you what kind of documentation to look out for outside.” Dilip stood up. “Dismissed.”

All of the assembled crewmembers stood up then and left the office, leaving Dilip free to go back to his own room.

The following morning saw Geert, Artyom and Rahul piling up in their newly assigned truck. The cook took the wheel and started up the engine of the red painted Volvo truck while the other two members of the group were reviewing their objectives for their sortie.

“So it’s not only about finding the weapons?” The Indian asked the other two beside him in the cabin.

“Yeah, it’s unlikely they put their ammunition in the same place, so we look for that too.” Geert replied before pointing at the chart on his lap with a talon. “I also want to go take a look at the HQ building to get what they have for intelligence and nautical publications. And the motor pool too, surely they have some tools and parts we could use, plus the vehicles of course.”

“Intelligence?” Rahul asked.

“It’s just an assumption, but we believe they have a compilation of port reports that would contain data on the facilities that can be found and methods for approaches and berthing. We could combine that with our own and the company’s. That’s gonna make accessing ports a lot easier down the line.”

“Fair point. We got everything? Gun included?”

“Eeyup.” Artyom mumbled, tapping the holster on his hip for emphasis. Geert had willingly given up the gun in favor of having the veteran use it.

“Then let’s go.” Rahul concluded before waving his paw out of the window, indicating to Alejandro by the exit to lower the ramp.

A minute later, the crane truck was rolling down the ramp, followed by another containing the fuel barge team. Both trucks stayed together until the exit of the trailer yard before splitting up, the fuel barge team headed to the inner harbor where the fuel depot was situated.

Rahul steered his truck towards the marina, the trip being much shorter with a vehicle than on foot. He kept his speed low so that they could look around, but there didn’t seem to be much more activity than the day before.

The radius of damaged lawns around the marina had spread on the other hand, they noted. Geert radioed the ship once they arrived to tell them they were beginning their search.

“Rahul, you got a position for their motor pool? I want to try that first to see what we can find.” Geert said.

“Don’t have any, but from what we explored yesterday, it should be around there.” The dog said as he pointed at a part of the chart on the parrot’s lap.

“Looks like hangars from the satellite pictures. Let’s do that.” The young Officer said. “Think we can find something useful?”

“Surely, but if you expect tanks and shit you’re not gonna find any, kid.” Artyom commented. “It’s a navy base; they got no use for those. Diesel fuel on the other end… Should find a fuckton of it in their shore tanks.”

And they indeed didn’t find any armored vehicle. Their find was almost just as good on the bright side, because the hangar was filled with a well maintained fleet of Unimogs, all military-grade. These were lightweight 4x4 trucks with a modular rear section, all easily able to go cross-country. In a shed at the back of the hangar, they also found a couple containers worth of parts for the trucks, as well as a large amount of tools and accessories. They even got their hands on different rear sections for them other than the regular troop/cargo variant.

The trio loaded half a dozen of the trucks with as many tools and parts as they could find in the hangar. The keys to open them, they easily found in an office by the hangar, and they left them in each of the trucks they had selected for taking.

The ship was radioed and told of the position of the vehicle stash so that they would retrieve them later after they found weapons to equip every team.

If finding trucks was easy, it took them much longer to scour the base in search of its armory. The place was well hidden, but in the end they managed to find the underground bunker in which the weapons were stored, as well as the ammunition storage an hour later, but on the other side of the base.

Geert had to go retrieve keys from the guard post and try out several on the lock before the doors finally opened, yielding access to the most precious contents of the base, all safely stored in a bunker dug several meters deep in the concrete of the quays that made up the ground of the base.

The three orange clad mariners strode inside the dusty room that was the armory. It was rather featureless, having whitewashed cinder blocks for walls and polished concrete for flooring, but the lack of decoration was overshadowed by the visible racks of weapons located some ways past the entrance, just after the gunsmiths’ workstations and desks. There were also several crates holding related equipment by the door such as magazines, slings, and even one filled with bayonets.

Rahul gingerly walked over to one of the workstations onto which a heavy looking machinegun had been set, held upright by its bipod. The dog picked up the gun with a huff and gazed at it in wonder.

“Nice looking gun; must be powerful. I wonder though, it doesn’t seem that new. You’d think these guys would have something more modern.” He commented.

“They don’t need something more modern Rahul.” Artyom said, joining his colleague by the workstation. “It’s a FN MAG, made by the Belgian weapon manufacturer. Created in the fifties, but the thing is so well designed it’s still in use today all over the world. It’s supposed to be the base source of firepower in a squad, not the regular rifles.”

“Yeah from the size of that thing I get the reasoning. Must be a bitch to carry around.” Geert added.

“It is, but they usually put it on vehicles or on tripods. Still, I think a big guy like our resident minotaur Angelo could use it with little problem, and if we put some hardpoints on deck that will provide us some nice defensive fire. Come now; let’s see if we can find something more regular for the crew, like those rifles on the racks.”

Said racks attached to the walls were holding dozens of mean looking assault rifles, with most of them being of an older black painted model. There must have been at most half a dozen exemplars of the newer guns, each already equipped with a scope and foregrip. They were very different from the regular, being made of sand colored polymer instead of steel.

“Any idea what those are Artyom?” Geert asked.

“The new ones I heard of. Those are SCAR’s, the last model produced by the FN. A damn good rifle if comments are to be trusted.” The Russian veteran said, holding one of them in his claws and inspecting its workings. He put the gun back on the rack and picked one of the older ones.

“Weird” He said, turning the gun around and inspecting it. He racked the slide a couple times and a grin appeared on his muzzle, looking a tiny bit scary with his exposed fangs. “That thing feels just like an AK platform, the mechanism is almost identical.” He aimed down the sights once and did a couple motions which Geert didn’t recognize. “I like that. I like that very much, those Belgians have some nice taste beyond the waffles and beer.” His tail was swishing behind him as he said that.

“So it’s good?” Rahul asked.

“For us? Ideal I must say.” He pointed a claw at the SCAR’s on the rack behind him. “Those new guns, they’re good and we will take some, like the MAG’s, but this…” He waved at the one he held in his claws. “This is some easy to use, easy to maintain shit. If it’s as reliable as an AK, I’d say it will be much better for us than a more… technical gun.”

“But they don’t have scopes…” Geert began.

“You don’t even know how to use a gun, much less how to set up a scope. For you lot, that will be iron sights and you will be happy with it.”

“Eh if you say so…” Geert shrugged. “Think we should check if they have anything else?”

“Of course.” Artyom said before venturing deeper in the bunker.

In the end, they found almost everything they would need for the ship. A crate they opened turned out to be containing several pistols like the one found by Geert the day before (they were called Browning Hi-Power apparently) as well as some modern pistols that could shoot armor piercing rounds, Five-Seven as they were called according to Artyom.

The latter kind of pistol was later joined by a sub machinegun using the same round. The P90, that one Geert recognized from the Stargate series, but they only found four of those in working order (and with the parts to spare) inside of the armory. Geert wanted to take one for himself, but Artyom told him to stick to simpler guns until he actually knew how to use it correctly.

He could have called out the boatswain on the way he addressed an Officer, but to be honest he preferred to trust the veteran on the use of guns, so he just let it slide.

They began to pile all these guns on a cart to move them up to the truck later on, taking care to also load all the related equipment needed for long-term use.

Upon moving a crate of magazines to the cart, Rahul discovered a much more modern polymer casing under the stack he was inspecting. Curiously, he flipped it open and revealed some oddly shaped weapons inside. He picked one up and looked at it carefully, ears twitching in wonder.

The object looked like a gun, but was outfitted with a canister for compressed air on the side, and a drum magazine that was too thin to hold actual bullets.

“Say Artyom, you wouldn’t know what those are, would you?”

The blue dragon walked over to the dog and looked at the gun in wonder. He squinted and picked another gun from the same crate, similar to the first one, but downsized and shaped like a pistol. With a practiced motion he pulled out its mag and inspected it carefully.

“Can’t say I do, but that’s not meant to shoot bullets, that much I’m certain. Do you see a manual in the crate? Or a tag?”

Rahul kneeled next to the crate and looked at the markings on it, before shaking his head.

“It’s written in Dutch and French. Geert?” He said, turning towards the parrot who was going through a filing cabinet.

Said parrot joined them after shoving several documents under his coveralls. He kneeled for just a second before standing up.

“It says ‘less-lethal launcher, FN 303, long and short, 6 each’. Never heard of those, but it’s probably a good idea to take them as well. You see another crate like that one? For parts I mean.”

“Yeah, there is another at the back of this stack of crates. Wanna take them?”

“Yes, that will come in handy, probably more than the guns. I’d much rather shoot to disable than to kill, wouldn’t you Artyom?” He said offhandedly towards the dragon.

“If you’re implying I’m some kind of bloodthirsty ex-military then you’re dead wrong.” The dragon answered with a scowl. “That part of me, I left behind in a military hospital.”

“Glad to hear that. Not that I can ensure we won’t happen, just reminding you… We’re merchants, not navy.”

“You needn’t remind me of that, lass.” He growled.

“What was that? Care to repeat that, eh?” The parrot cawed, immediately getting close to the dragon and staring him down.

“What I’m saying, Officer” The dragon stated through gritted fangs “Is that you should rather worry about an inexperienced sailor accidentally escalating things because he didn’t know any better than one of the veterans going trigger happy.”

Geert glared at Artyom for several seconds before turning away with a snort.

“Klootzak.” He muttered, not hearing Artyom mutter a quiet ‘pidor’ on his own end.

Despite the conflict between the two, the crates were loaded with the rest of the gear and eventually wound up on the truck half an hour later. Geert was making one last round of inspection around the armory to see if there was anything else they might have some use for, but they really had taken all they would need from the bunker. Even weapon repair manuals found their way on their truck, the only thing they could not get their hands on being optics and accessories that were not already fitted on the weapons.

One good thing is; they even found some mounts for the machineguns that were in the process of being repaired at the workshop.

“Is all the gear secured?” Geert asked Rahul who was tightening a strap on the truck’s flatbed.

“All good, now we can go get some ammo for these and we’re done.”

Of course something had to go and ruin their day. Their radio crackled with some alarmed chatter from Amandine. Geert raised the volume on the walkie-talkie and asked them to repeat.

“Amandine to weapon team. Be advised, we have spotted unidentified movement around your section of the harbor. Movement has been confirmed by the fuel barge team to be headed in your direction. Over.”

Rahul raised his head in alarm, ears swiveling in the direction of the guard post.

“Uh oh, Officer, hope you’re not afraid of dogs.” He muttered, reaching for the can of tear gas on his hip.”

Geert took the time to reassure Amandine they were alright… for now, before answering the Indian.

“I’m not, but I’d be more comfortable if we had more lead to throw at them. Dogs you say? Think we can sneak around to the ammo storage?”

Rahul seemed to think for a bit before he nodded.

“I can hear them, big ones, but maybe we can.” He pointed to a gap between two warehouses. “Let’s try this way; you got the key to the storage?”

“That I do, Artyom, you ok there?” The dragon was standing on the top of the truck’s cab, pistol in hand and head turned in the direction of the guard post.

“I am, but we will need a diversion. The truck won’t do.”

Geert pulled out a stun grenade from his pocket.

“I got your diversion covered, flashbang ready to be thrown whenever you’re ready.”

Both the dragon and the dog motioned for him to wait.

“Not yet, wait until they’re around the block or you will just lead them straight to us.” Artyom followed the sound of the dogs that were now inside the base, though his and Rahul’s hearing must have been better than Geert’s because the parrot was unable to hear them.

Rahul pulled two rifles from a crate and slung one around his back before passing the other to Geert.

“Almost there, get ready, aim for the dock opposite to us.” Artyom said, before counting down on his claws.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Now!” Artyom yelled, and Geert pulled the pin before pitching the grenade as hard as he could towards his target.

To his credit, it landed very close to the target. Now who said playing baseball in Europe was dumb? The trio didn’t get to witness the landing or the detonation, because they were already bolting for the other side of the base.

The diversion earned them a precious few seconds, but the dogs that had injured the Corporal the day before were already on their trail, they could hear them around the block they had just passed.

Geert put on a burst of speed that impressed even himself, easily getting ahead of Rahul and Artyom. Key in claw, he practically slid down the slope leading down the bunker used to store ammunition and fumbled to get the key inside the slot.

Behind him, his two companions got into position to cover the access. One armed with a pistol, the other, looking much less confident, was brandishing his can of tear gas. A dreadfully old can of tear gas.

The parrot practically ripped the door open and they all made their way into the bunker at the same moment a brown silhouette crested the top of the ramp and glared down at them.

“The fuck is this thing?” Geert gaped.

Because the thing in question couldn’t possibly have been a dog. It was easily the size of a grey wolf and had the general shape of one, but the similarities stopped there. It had two holes in its head in place of eyes, and they gave off an eerie green light that seemed to look at them with malice. Its body was made out of an accumulation of wood, branches and rotten vegetation. The latter must have been the source of the smell it gave off because the scent of mold, mulch and rotten fruit permeated the air around it.

Nobody in the trio failed to notice the wickedly sharp claws the creature had around its paws. Or the way it growled at them.

“Stay back or I’ll shoot!” Artyom yelled, already leveling his pistol at it.

The creature just howled and was soon joined by two other. They then started to stalk towards the sailors.

Without turning his back to the creatures, Geert went inside the bunker, tapping on both Rahul and Artyom’s shoulders to get them to follow him.

He didn’t bother observing much around the inside of the bunker, immediately going for one of the shelved ammo crates, checking the tag on it. He needed some 5.56 rounds, ASAP.

At the entrance, Rahul barely had the time to close the door before the… wooden hounds pounced. One managed to wedge its head in the door and started to push, biting and clawing at the reinforced door. Artyom fired two shots through its skull which collapsed in a shower of wooden shards. Unfortunately, its place was quickly occupied by another.

Rahul, who was pushing with all his strength against the door, managed to take out his lighter. The Indian ignited it and pointed his tear gas canister at the gap in the door.

One press of the trigger later, the creature was on fire and backing away from the door. Weirdly enough there was no sign of the remains of the head of the first hound Artyom had shot.

“Are they gone?” Geert asked, now occupied with loading the magazine on his rifle with bullets from one of the crates.

“Not yet. They’re watching the door.” Artyom answered, looking through the bulletproof glass panel in the door. He saw the hound he had shot stand up, looking mostly unharmed. “The fuck?”

“What?”

“That thing I shot, you saw its head burst right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well it just picked itself up, saw its head reassemble itself out of the splinters.”

“What about the one on fire?” Rahul asked.

Artyom peered again through the glass. The blackened hound had lost a lot of parts and wasn’t regenerating.

“You might have an idea there, Cook. How much liquid do you have left in your canister?”

“Enough.” The dog answered without looking.

“Guys? I got good news and bad news.” Geert started. “Bad news is, can’t radio the ship from this bunker. Good thing is…” He pulled the charging handle on his rifle. “We’ve got plenty to fight back.” He tossed Rahul a couple clips of ammunition. “Load your mag; we can burn them while they’re down.”

“Aye aye Officer” The dog answered with a smile. “Time to play lumberjack with these shits.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have found some 9mm in there by any chance?” Artyom asked.

“Probably the small boxes on the back shelf.” Geert answered with a point of his talon. “Why? You shot twice at most.”

“Eh, no reason not to want to top off my mags.”

“Take your time, we ain’t going anywhere.” Rahul said, glancing at the window in the door. “And neither are they, for that matter. Wonder what we did to them.”

“No clue, but they don’t seem like they wanna take an interview ‘bout that.” Geert commented. “Wanna take a guess?”

“Dunno, we’re on their territory? Probably? The fuck are these anyway?”

“Looks like wolves, but made of wood, and reassemble themselves if you break them, like skeletons in Mario.” Geert shrugged. “Beats me, some kind of government project? That’s not really something I can picture Belgians doing, much less on a navy base.”

“Well I can’t say I know either.” Artyom said. “But we at least have an idea on how to kill them, and that’s enough for now. You ready?” He asked as he inserted a freshly reloaded mag in his pistol.

“Whenever you both are. Any advice on how to shoot these, Artyom?” Rahul stood up and racked the charging handle on his rifle.

“Check the safety, stick to single fire, aim before you shoot, watch out for ricochets. Most of all, don’t point it at friendlies. That good enough for now?”

“Will do.” He grasped the doorknob “Ready?”

Both his companions answered with a firm nod, readying their weapons. Rahul quickly pushed the door and rushed outside. The hounds immediately turned their attention back to the sailors and gave a furious howl, which was answered in kind by a yell from the trio.

Rahul shouldered his rifle and let loose on the first dog he saw at the top of the ramp. The thing tried to charge him, but Rahul’s fire had little chance to miss its mark over such a small distance. Its head exploded in a shower of splinters and its body collapsed under the perforating fire. Six shots in quick succession were enough to halt its charge at the group. Rahul’s ears ached after that loud burst of gunfire. Maybe enhanced hearing came with some disadvantages.

The three mariners slowly advanced up the ramp, the other two hounds having backed off at the first sound of gunfire. They trained each of their guns in different directions at the direction of Artyom.

Seconds later, both of the remaining hounds came charging from different directions at full speed, each kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.

Geert went down on one knee and opened fire on the mass of lumber running at him. The first shot shattered one of its legs; the second grazed its flank but didn’t seem to hinder it much. The Dutchman swore and fired a third time, hitting it full center of mass, which caused the being to trip and land in a heap. After that, two more shots reduced the creature to splinters.

Next to him, Artyom easily dispatched the remaining wolf with two bullets from his pistol at a distance of more than twenty meters. Each shot landed squarely between its eyes.

“Rahul, quick, burn ‘em down before they can get up.” Geert ordered.

The Cook rushed over to both of the creatures’ remains and thoroughly sprayed them with flaming tear gas. The wood caught fire and he let his arms drop with a sigh of relief.

“Eh, good thing what we’ve got for tear gas is the cheapest on the market eh? Any better and it wouldn’t have caught fire.” He joked, turning to his companions.

Rahul saw Geert’s eyes widen before the parrot started to run towards him.

“Duck!” Geert yelled at him, and Rahul turned around to look at what got the parrot so worried.

Ah right, there were three hounds, not two. It had gotten just enough time to reassemble and was now in the process of pouncing at him.

Rahul froze at the sight, completely forgetting about the rifle slung across his back. His moment of fear was broken up by Geert shoving him out of the way with a push of his shoulder, unfortunately putting himself in the way.

Geert cried out and braced his rifle in front of him before the hound could get to him. It still bowled him over completely and he went rolling a couple meters to the side, landing on his head.

The wooden creature caught its footing and howled at the two mariners that had killed its brethren. Artyom responded in kind with a roar of rage before he opened his maw wide and spat out a gout of flame that set the hound ablaze. It roared in pain and started to trash on the ground, trying to put out the fire consuming its body before the Russian ended its struggle with a bullet between its eyes.

Rahul stared at Artyom like he had grown a second head. The dragon was staring intently at the burning carcass in front of him, tails swishing back and forth quickly.

“You alright there Artyom?” He asked.

“I am. Just surprised is all. Should have expected it, the flame I mean.”

“What? That’s about the only thing out of place I saw. Is there a problem?”

The blue dragon’s gaze flicked once to the dog before focusing back on the carcass.

“None that you should be concerned about. How is De Vries?”

Rahul looked at the immobile form a few meters to the side with a frown.

“Not good. Gimme a hand with him would you?”

Artyom nodded firmly before he started to walk in the direction of Geert.

“Yeah let’s do that.” The boatswain concluded. “Can you radio the ship? Tell them we dealt with the problem and to send us a team. I want to get these guns and ammo back to the ship ASAP.”

“You don’t sound like you’re doing well.” Rahul answered.

“Just got a lot on my mind is all.” He waved the concern away. “Nothing to worry about.”

When they approached Geert’s body, they found the Officer to be mostly unharmed, but unconscious due to the impact he had received from a heavy mass of lumber throwing itself at him. A brief inspection revealed no bleeding wound or apparent fracture, but he would wake up with some seriously bruised ribs and maybe a dislocation or two.

Vadim on the ship was notified as soon as they appraised his status. The Ukrainian had a few choices words to address the duo about having to treat two people over as many days. Rahul didn’t understand Ukrainian, but from Artyom’s reaction and the tone, he wasn’t really congratulating them.

There was one Officer that didn’t like being stuck with medical duties, that much he had figured out. He gave Artyom a tired look before picking up Geert in his arms.

That one was going to be a bitch to explain to the Captain.

Author's Notes:

And now for some actual action instead of just talking. This also highlights one of the ways I chose to deviate from regular PaP canon. Amandine brings the crew a lot more capabilities than your regular group of survivor, and if I want to make the story at least slightly interesting, she needs to face proportionate threats and challenges, so here we go with Invasive Equestrian Species.

Now for the crew to figure that out...