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Concept of Rym and certian characters copyrighted to Ollie Canal.

The throbbing of his head left streaks of color in his vision as Robinson slowly drifted back into continuousness. Robinson slowly tried to lift his head up as he felt every throb in body and it was beginning to make him sick to his stomach. He couldn't even tell if it was day or night as tree limbs blocked almost all of the windows and there was no way to guess how long he was out.

"Sir?" he weakly called out as he fought to turn his body in the pilot seat's direction.

No answer came, as Robinson finally was able to twist himself around enough to see Williams. And what he saw made it quite clear that one would never come as Robinson quickly turned away in disgust. Piercing the center of Williams' chest was a huge branch that had entered through one of the broken cockpit windows during the crash. Williams never had a chance of surviving such an impact and Robinson could only hope that he had died quickly and with little pain.

Trying to get the image of Williams out of his head, Robinson fought tooth and nail with the seat straps just to try and get them open. No matter what he tried, though, the buckle refused to pop and the strap were beginning to bite into his shoulders and side, adding to the pain his body felt. Robinson eventually gave up on the buckle and wormed his right hand into a pocket to pull out a Swiss army knife. It wasn't the fastest method, but the knife slowly worked it way through the material.

After dragging out for what seemed an eternity to Robinson, the left strap finally cut in two, giving him much needed room to move and taking pressure off of his body. With the help of the knife blade, he was able to undo the buckle now that the force holding it shut had been eliminated. Unfortunately, the buckle came open so suddenly, Robinson fell out of his seat with a cry of surprise and his head landed hard on an instrument panel. The sudden jolt of pain was more than his body could take as he began lose continuousness and his vision became blurry. Robinson fought with every bit of his strength and will to stay awake and force his body up onto his hands and knees. He eventually began to win the battle as he slowly made his way towards the cargo bay door.

The bay door had been wedged shut in the crash and refused to open as Robinson pushed on it. With a growl of anger and determination, he crawled up onto the top of a panel and began to kick with as much strength as he could muster at the door. With each kick, he could hear the door beginning to break free with groans and creaks and it made him even more determined to kick the thing just a bit harder each time. The door eventually gave way to the unrelenting assault as the hinges snapped off of the frame and the whole thing flew outward into the bay.

Robinson heard the door bounce off of several boxes as he peered into the dark cargo bay. Crates were strewn in every direction and most of them had broken open, spilling their contents everywhere. From what he could remember of the cargo manifest, the plane was carrying rations and supplies bound for Eastern Europe, but at least now he didn't have to search each and every crate for their contents as most of it was now lying in plain sight. Robinson knew that somewhere in that mess had to be some first-aid supplies as he slowly lowered himself down into the mess.

"At least I won't starve," he thought to himself as he waded through the mess that was now the cargo hold, "For a while at least…"

A sudden bolt of pain from his head brought Robinson to his knees as he cried out in agony. Something told him that the blow to his head had probably been more damaging than he first thought as he reached up with a hand and carefully felt around. Each probe with his fingertips only brought only new waves of pains and the fact that his hand came back slightly covered in red didn't help the situation any. Robinson realized that he probably had a concussion as the throbbing in his head only worsened with each passing second.

The pain that his body was experiencing considerably slowed Robinson' efforts to find a first-aid kit to nothing more than a crawl on his hands and knees. By some miracle, he eventually found one buried under a pile of m-rations and immediately ripped it and the ration pack open. With the can of water from the rations, Robinson downed half a dozen aspirins before attending to his wound with antiseptic spray and holding a jumbo sized gauss pad to his head.

As he felt the pain in his body beginning to slowly die away, Robinson cleared off a small patch of plane's side and laid down. He knew that even thinking about sleeping was the *very* worse possible thing to do with a concussion, but the levels of pain and exhaustion his body was experiencing dictated otherwise as he closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep, almost unnatural, sleep.

Darkness surrounded him as he slowly floated through a great void of nothingness. No, before him, six figures appeared out of the darkness and brought with them light and through powerful magic created a world. It was a beautiful green planet that spawned great civilizations. He watched as great cites were built and the people thanked the six figures for the green planet. And then something went wrong and the figures became angered and a great war broke out upon the planet. He watched as entire cities disappeared in the blink of an eye and legions of machines marched upon the six figures. One by one, the figures were overpowered until only one escaped into the void. A false hope and pride came across the civilizations that did not last as darkness swept over the planet. The great civilizations fell as the green planet slowly died and the people despaired. Out of the void, a great vortex appeared and a new evil spread across the planet. War and death followed the evil everywhere it went as black towers rose from the land. Entire towns and cities were lost in mindless conflict as hope slowly disappeared from the world. In the void near him, the one last figure that had escaped the first war only watched in horror and sadness as her creation was being slowly destroyed. As she wept, she turned toward him and said, "Please… help my children… defend the light for those who still believe," as she reached out her arms to him in a final desperate plea.

Robinson awoke is a startle from the dream and it took him a few moments to realize that he was still in the plane as he tried to calm himself down. Robinson found himself to be covered in sweat and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he just sat there and stared into space. Something about the dream disturbed him to no end as he pulled his legs up to his chest. It seemed too real for a dream, almost as if the figure _was_ talking to him.

The pain from his body and head still plagued his body as Robinson slowly rose to his feet, but they had thankfully subsided to a level that he could tolerate from his short rest. Pail shafts of light filtered in through cracks and tears in the plane's body and highlighted just how much of a chaotic mess the cargo bay was in as Robinson shook his head in amazement of how he could have ever survived such a crash. As he leaned against the body, a tiny voice in the back of his head kept nagging him about finding the road the plane had flown over just before crashing. He couldn't place any rational reason as to why he needed to find it in such a hurry and pushed it aside for other matters that seemed more important at the moment. The only thing Robinson could place it with was his survival instincts acting up subconsciously. Roads usually led to civilization and that meant the possibility of medical attention for his body. He couldn't tell just how badly he was hurt and it was a big risk to attempt any form of extended travel, but something in the back of his mind told him that the crash beacon would probably never be picked up by human ears. At the present moment, though, he felt it to be of greater importance to take stock of the situation and gather up what he would need to survive for the time being.

Robinson tried to remember as much of the cargo list as he could through the dull pounding of his head, which it turned out to be not much. He vaguely remembered something about bags or packs on one of the crates and began to wade to the far side of the plane. After some time, he finally found the crate he was looking for and found it to contain backpacks like what the infantry would wear for long marches. Most of them were severely damaged and/or bent at odd angles, but there were a few in a decent enough shape to suffice carrying a few items. As he readied a pack for use, Robinson had a brainstorm and began to tear apart one of the damaged backpacks. With some creative use of straps and his pocketknife, Robinson transformed the remains into a small makeshift duffle bag.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he went back to where he had found the first-aid kits and rations. Robinson sat down and began to fill various pockets on the backpack with different items from several first-aid kits and the main bulk of the pack with ration bags.

After a few more hours of scrounging about for any last items he would need in the wilderness, Robinson looked about the cargo hold as he tried to think if there was anything he was forgetting. A sudden brainstorm came to his as he eventually brought his attention about to the cockpit; There should be an emergency kit strapped next to the captain's chair. Robinson painfully worked his way back up to the cockpit and wedged himself between the two seats. As he searched, he didn't feel right about being that close to Williams' body, but he really didn't have much of a choice. It took a few minutes, but he finally found a large box by the rudder pedals. It was a bittersweet discovery as he opened it only to find a flair gun and a few extra shells for it. "Shit…" Robinson cursed himself as he put the gun back into the box and climbed back down into the cargo hold, "Oh, good… I can set the forest on fire with that much more ease." As he took a moment to rest, Robinson took one final look about the hold and tried to think of anything else that might have been overlooked.

Nothing came to him as he worked his way over to the plane's side hatch and pulled the emergency release latch. Using all of his might, Robinson was only able to force the hatch open just wide enough for him to shove the packs through and squeeze himself out into the forest and whatever laid ahead in the unknown.

As he looked about the dense forest, the voice returned in a more persistent manner in the back of Robinson' mind. What was scaring him, though, was the fact that the voice had a definite female tone that was beginning to sound aggravated at him the more he tried to ignore it.

"Funny…. who would have thought that my conscience would be a girl," he thought to himself as he scanned about the woods for a fairly open route through the trees.

"But I'm not your "conscience"…." the voice said.

Robinson just froze.

"Shit, that concussion must be worse than I thought if I'm hearing voices…"he said as he put his head in his hands, "Either that or I'm going crazy…"

"No, no… you are not going crazy. Everything will be explained if you can reach the forest road to your east, but you will have to hurry to make it in time and save them."

"Save who?!? While we're on the subject of 'who,' who the hell are you and what are you doing in my head??!!?"

"None of those questions matter right this moment… I promise, all will be explained once you make it to the road. Now hurry, please!"

Robinson felt really silly having a conversation with a mysterious voice inside his head, "You're not going to get off of my case until I get there, are you? Besides, what's so important for me to have to run willy-nilly through a forest I've never been in and have no idea of what to expect??"

"The proof to end some of your doubts, but you must hurry to catch up with them."

Robinson thought for a moment back to his days of basic training and tried to remember what they taught him on navigation by the sun and stars. It took him a few moments, but he finally remembered the trick with using your watch hands and the sun to roughly guess cardinal directions. It took him a few tries, but he eventually came up with what he hoped was east. "Can you at least tell me if I'm pointed in the right direction?" Robinson asked the voice as he rubbed his head.

"You are, now, you've better get going," the voice said before disappearing from his mind.

Robinson shook his head, as if he was trying to clear it out. The conversation had left him a bit unnerved and he was still not quite sure if he was going crazy or not. But, what did he have to loose, Robinson figured as he strapped on the pack and shouldered the duffel bag.

Travel through the trees wasn't anything too difficult for Robinson, but it wasn't easy by any means either from the dense forest floor growth and low hanging tree branches. Robinson kept forgetting that the top of his backpack stuck up a tiny bit higher than the rest of him and he would find himself having to unhook it from a stray branch every couple of minutes.

"Great scout I'd make, can't even get through a forest without causing a commotion…" he thought to himself as he once again untangled himself from a tree.

It took him close to half an hour to reach the final hill and as Robinson ascended, he placed all of his attention and skill in climbing the hill silently to the summit. As he neared the top, he took off the backpack and laid it down on the ground as he finished climbing to the hill summit hunched over and moving from tree to tree.

"Thank God I actually found this dammed thing…" Robinson sighed to himself as he laid down behind a thick growth of scrub just slightly down the far side of the hill.

Robinson had a fairly unobstructed view of the road below him from his position, but he didn't see anything on it as he looked about.

"Am I too late?" he wondered, "No, wait… what's that noise?"

Just coming into visual range from out of the dark woods was a band of wooden wagons, the same band that the plane had blown over some time ago. Robinson just watched from afar in his little hiding place as the train slowly lumbered closer. There was something about the band that didn't sit well with him and he was bound and determined to figure out just what that "thing" was before making _any_ moves.

The front couple of wagons were just standard covered wagons, nothing special about them that really stood out in Robinson' mind. But, the rest were what really got his attention. To him they looked to be nothing more than iron cages on wheels. Robinson could tell there were people inside of them, but at that range he really couldn't see them. The guards on foot along side the wagons and leading the band, though, were another story. Every one of them was wearing the same ancient (to his standards) style of black plate armor that looked like something right out of a bad medieval fairy tale.

Robinson shook his attention free of the guards and asked the voice, "Hmm.. Five mounted, ten on foot… that I can at least _see_ right now. Who's in the carts?"

"Slaves," the voice answered sharply in a low tone.

"Wait a minute… You mean as in the "Ransack a village and take home the captured peasants" type of slaves?"

There was a moment of silence in Robinson' head before the voice answered in a slightly confused tone, "In so many words…., if I understood your meaning correctly."

The voice then suddenly took on a darker tone to it as it said, "Most of the Barons that control these lands deal almost exclusively in the exploitation and suffering of the non-human and human races throughout Rym. The slave trade rings flourish here like dark flowers of misery and suffering… all just to win favors from the Decider…"

"Hold up… the who??" Robinson asked.

"She is the ruler of the Tamaran Empire and self-proclaimed last of the creators."

"Who… wha…." Robinson asked more confused than ever, "What the hell are you talking about??? I've never heard of any of these things before…"

There was a short giggle from the voice before is said, "I'm sorry. I keep forgetting that you're not from these lands and don't understand much about the world you've found yourself in."

"Damn straight I don't understand! Am I to incur from this conversation that I should just walk right out in the open and hijack a caravan all by myself?!?"

"Yes," the voice bluntly replied.

Robinson could only think to blink a few times.

"LIKE HELL!!" was his ultimate response to the voice, "You think I've got a death wish or something?? Just on numbers alone, I somewhat outgunned by at least 15 to 1 and I don't have a single weapon! What you're asking of me is just plain impossible!"

"So, you'd rather let those innocent children die under the whip or as prisoners of the black dust?" the voice angrily asked Robinson.

"Jesus H Christ! Don't try to guilt trip me into doing something I know I can't do!" Robinson yelled back, "Do you think that I'd want those people to be taken off? I know that slavery isn't right, but I'm not some omnipotent god that can snap my fingers and make those guards go away, I have very mortal limitations!"

"Funny you would choose those words…" was all the voice said in return.

Robinson let out a long, angry sigh. This was a situation that even his wildest dreams could never have placed him in and here he was, smack dab in the middle of it…

"Dammit…" Robinson cursed to himself, "I just can't fucking _win_ today… If I don't do something, I'm probably going to regret it, but if I do something, I'm probably going to end up dead. Can we say 'unfair morale dilemma' boys and girls…? First it's some disembodied voice throwing names at me I've never even heard of, now it's playing friggen' mission impossible," he grumbled as he weighed his options on what to do, "What the hell's next, nuclear holocaust??"

Robinson let out a heavy, disgusted sigh as no relevant options came to his mind except for one long shot. It was risky at best, but he thought about using the flair gun to set one of the lead wagons on fire. If this really was like the dark ages, as the guards' attire suggested to him, the sight of flying fire might just cause enough of a panic for the ranks to break in confusion.

"Oh, yea… this is the best I can come up with… 'magic' fire and a prayer I don't set this entire forest ablaze…," Robinson said to himself, "Oh, yea, things are definitely looking good."

A snapping noise just behind him brought Robinson out of his angry daze and he began to spin around to confront whatever had made the noise. But, before Robinson could even make a quarter-turn, something was on top of him as a hand grabbed his left and a small blade appeared next to his throat and forced his head somewhat upward. "Oh, fuck……." was the only thing to go through Robinson mind as he instinctively turned his palms over to show he didn't have any weapons.

"Who you be?!" an odd voice softly hissed into Robinson' ear, "Are you a knight with the baron?!"

"No…. I'm not with them, if that's what you're asking," Robinson quickly replied as he tried to turn his just slightly in hopes of seeing his unknown attacker. The moment he did, though, the blade of the person's knife bit deeper into his throat and Robinson let out a slight "urk.."

"Don't move anymore," the person said as he/she squeezed his arm a bit tighter.

To Robinson, the hand holding him seemed to feel funny, like it was wearing a fuzzy glove. That and there seemed to almost be no power behind it, almost as if it was straining with it's show of bravado for scaring him into compliance. Though, the knife at his neck was a whole other matter that really didn't need to rely on power if the edge was as sharp as he thought it to be.

"Why are you here?" the voice asked him as the person's hand shifted positions from his arm to his wrist.

"Would you believe a disembodied voice told me to come?" Robinson said half-jokingly as he rolled his eyes downward to try and see the hand on his wrist. By its position, it should have become visible even to the angle his head was stuck at.

Robinson blinked several times after getting his first look at the hand. If it was wearing a glove, it had to be the longest, furriest glove he'd ever seen at it seemed to just continue right on up from the hand to beyond his range of vision on the person's arm. He did note in the back of his mind, though, it was an interesting shade of a chocolate brown, but he'd have to worry about the artistic meaning such a color meant some other time as the preservation of his life took some what more precedence in his current situation.

"Many humans would say you're insane for listening to voices, but I would say it's a good sign," the person said as he/she let go of Robinson' wrist and took the blade away from his throat. "I can feel the power of Kij radiating within you…" the person said as a pair of hands came down on Robinson's shoulders, "It's as if the she herself has touched you… You can't be with them…, you're too alive."

Suddenly, the two hands pulled Robinson backwards and he naturally snapped his head backward in response to the motion, only to end up staring right into a short, rounded muzzle tipped by a leathery black nose. Robinson's eyes became as large as plates as he quickly realized that the muzzle was the same chocolate brown color as the hand that had only held onto his arm a few moments ago.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind kept telling Robinson not to scream. Somehow, he just _knew_ that would have been the worst possible thing to do in his situation. Still, though, that one thought didn't keep Robinson's heart from skipping a beat and his breath freezing up in his throat.

His fear response actually began to kick up a notch as he watched in horror as what appeared to be a smile on the muzzle suddenly turn into a frown. As he just stared at the muzzle with wide-eyed trepidation, it suddenly opened up and out came the words "What's wrong? Why are you scared?" in the exact same voice as the one that threatened his life only moments ago. That was the last straw as Robinson violently shook free of the hands on his shoulder and he scrambled across the ground.

As he tired to get away from whatever it was behind him, Robinson caught a boot on a tree root and fell flat onto his face. For several seconds, he just laid there with his eyes closed, waiting for the worst to come. When nothing happened, he cautiously opened an eye and looked behind himself. Sitting down at the spot he was only a moment ago was what looked like a giant human-sized otter with a very confused look on its face/muzzle. "God, what I have I gotten myself into…" was the only coherent thought to go through Robinson's mind as he just stared at the creature.

When it was fairly certain that the otter-thing wasn't go to kill, maim, or threaten him in any way, Robinson slowly and cautiously rolled himself over and scooted backwards a few more feet towards where he had left his gear. As he sat there, he couldn't bring himself to just up and run away for some reason. Curiosity, fear, something else… he just couldn't come up with a reason why his legs just refused to obey the base instinct of flight. He just sat there, staring at the strange creature as it, too, did the very exact same thing. Only thing was, the otter-thing had an expression on its face Robinson could only hope that it was something akin to playful curiosity.

The female voice decided to pipe up in his head once again at about that time. "I take it from your reaction, you don't have Lutrai on your planet?"

"What was your first clue??" Robinson sarcastically replied, "Where I come from, the only sentient life is humans, so pardon me if I'm a little _freaked out_ by a giant talking otter-thing-Lut-whatever the hell you called that thing."

"He's not a "thing," he is a Lutrai, a child of the sun… and probably the last race to believe in me…"

Robinson was silent for a few seconds as he began to put two and two together between some of the remarks the voice and the 'Lutrai' had said. "You're the one that, um…, "person" called 'Kij,' aren't you," he then bluntly asked the voice, "You're the one that put that crazy dream in my head, didn't you."

Robinson heard what sounded like a sigh before and answer came, "Yes… I am and I did…"

"And now for the million dollar question: Why?"

Another sigh came from Kij before her reply. "Because, when you crossed over to this dying planet, I felt something in you that I have not felt in a human since the days of the Solinar… hope, a will to live, and most importantly, the ability to care for others. I had to see if these feelings were genuinely true…. I'm sorry for having to deceive you in this manner."

"So, are you trying to tell me that this whole thing was just some fucked up test to see if I would help total strangers or not?!?"

"Yes… I knew that the chainbreakers were planning to raid this slave train, but I had to see if you would actually be willing to even think about doing the act on you own. Most humans wouldn't have given the request a second thought, but you… you actually stayed and tried to find a way to free those poor children, even though you knew it would probably have been your death."

"Don't I feel a bit used right now…" Robinson sarcastically said in a soft tone. "Most people just ask for help, it works a little bit better that way."

"I'm… I'm sorry if I offended you, but see it from their point of view. If I had just come straight out and asked, like you said, and you had refused, that entire wagon would have been put in jeopardy. Caught chainbreakers are killed on sight by orders of the Barons in these lands and slaves that were _any_ part of an escape don't fare much better in their punishment as well. Lutrai are nothing more than toys that suffer from the ever-changing whims of humans. I just couldn't turn their fate over into your hands without first seeing to where your heart and mind would lead you."

"I guess that makes sense… I think… But, what the hell does that have to do with me and the furball that keeps smiling at me?" Robinson asked as he looked over at the otter-like creature. "Quite frankly, I am _reeeally_ not liking this whole situation at all."

"I'm sorry for have putting you into a situation such as this, but I must ask for your help. The chainbreakers gathered today are all among the strongest of all the Lutrai, but I fear even their strength may not be able to overcome the high degree of experience among the caravan guards. The Baron in Zeskoi chose his men well and I fear for my children's lives…"

Robinson could only blink a few times in response to Kij's words. "Oh, man… do you have the wrong person for this job… I don't have any weapons, I barely have the adequate hand to hand judo skill and saying that I am _somewhat_ creeped out by the prospect of being surrounded by a whole group of those, um…, what do you call them again?"

"Lutrai… they are called Lutrai. I have complete faith in you. You may not know it, but I can feel something very special deep inside of you. A spark of inner-power that rivals even the strongest shaman of my children… Let that be your strength and guide, all will be well."

"I don't know… hell, considering that one tried to kill me, you should understand why I'm a bit leery about this whole thing."

"Arust wouldn't have hurt you, he could sense that you meant him or the other Lutrai no harm. They have this "ability" to see into one's heart and to almost know what one is exactly thinking, good or evil. I would even venture to say that he was trying to have befriended you only a few moments ago. You have nothing to fear from these innocent children."

With a neutral express on his face, Robinson stared at the Lutrai before him. Sitting only a few feet from his own body was this odd creature that seemed to be more otter than human. Robinson placed the creature to have been only 4, possibly 5, feet in height, but it had a long, thick tail that was easily almost the length of its entire body. Again, the color of the Lutrai's fur caught his attention as he noted how it faded into a lighter shade of a tan color along the front of the torso and inner thigh. The next thing that then caught his attention was the Lutrai's clothing… or lack there of… The only thing he was wearing that could have been half-ways counted as clothing was what appeared to be a leather loincloth. Robinson really didn't feel like pressing the issue if "he" was really a "he" and took Kij's calling him one as proof enough.

Scattered around various parts of the Lutrai's body were small pieces of jewelry, some of which glittered brightly like miniature suns even in the diffused lighting of the forest. But what Robinson found the most intriguing about the Lutrai were his eyes. Behind the short, rounded muzzle were two large dark-violet colored eyes that seemed to have no end to their depth. Deep and full of expression, yet, quite eerie at the same time.

At no time while being stared at did the Lutrai ever stop smiling and for some unknown reason, it was beginning to make Robinson feel a bit easier himself despite the awkwardness of their situation. Maybe Kij was telling the truth…, maybe the strange creature before him was trying to have been his friend. Or maybe has was just going insane…

"Somehow, I just know I'm going to regret this… but, I'll help any way I can…" Robinson finally said after a moment of hesitation, "I can't guarantee how much I'll be, though, and that's if I don't just get in everyone's way…"

"Fair enough… But, I don't think you give yourself enough worth. That strong inner-power I can feel in you that will be the chainbreaker's greatest asset for this challenge before them, not the hindrance you claim you'll be."

Robinson didn't know how to reply to that comment as he mulled over it in his head.

As he sat there, a sudden calm came over the forest, as the few light beams that could filter through the forest canopy slowly became more intense. Robinson couldn't help but to wonder what was going on as the Lutrai in front of him looked skyward with eager anticipation clearly written all over his muzzle. And then came the voice…, a soft whisper that seemed to carry on the breeze itself. It came and went so suddenly and quietly, a falling leaf could have overshadowed it with noise, yet Robinson somehow heard its simple message: "He will help…"

As the surrounding light began to die down, the Lutrai looked back towards Robinson with an impossibly wide smile that went from cheek to cheek on his fuzzy head. Robinson could only blink as he silently prayed it was a good thing.