Night fell faster than Doc expected, the alien sky transitioning from dusky bluish purple to pitch black in a matter of minutes. The forest transformed around him, with bioluminescent plants casting an eerie blue-green glow across their makeshift camp. Doc settled onto a cushioned section of emergency flooring he'd salvaged from the shuttle, his muscles protesting every movement.

  He winced as he reached for his ration pack, a sharp pain lancing through his side. The adrenaline that had carried him through the crash and subsequent camp setup was wearing off, revealing the toll the day had taken on his body.

  "Dinner is served," he muttered, breaking the seal on a standard-issue nutrient bar. The bland, slightly sweet taste was familiar at least—a small comfort in this alien environment. Doc chewed slowly, listening to the strange sounds of the forest night. Chittering calls echoed through the trees, punctuated by occasional rustling in the underbrush beyond their barrier.

  When he tried to shift positions, another stab of pain shot through his ribcage, intense enough to make him gasp.

  "Lux, I think I might have picked up more than bruises in the crash. Can you run a full internal scan?"

  "Initiating comprehensive biological assessment," Lux replied through their neural link. Doc felt the familiar tingling sensation as the AI directed nanoscopic sensors throughout his body. "Scan complete. I've detected three cracked ribs on your left side, and significant muscle trauma across your upper back and shoulders."

  Doc grimaced. That explained the pain. "Worse than I thought. Let's activate healing protocols. Standard nanite repair sequence should fix most of it by the time I get ready for bed"

  "Request denied," Lux stated flatly.

  Doc blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

  "Healing Protocol Directive 47-B clearly states that unless under extreme circumstances, nanite-assisted healing must be initiated during a rest cycle to prevent metabolic shock. Your injuries, while significant, are not life-threatening."

  "Lux, we're stranded on a hostile alien planet with dragons. If that's not an extreme circumstance, I don't know what is."

  "Current threat assessment indicates no immediate danger," Lux countered. "The perimeter barrier is secure. No large predators detected within scanning range. Your vital signs, while showing elevated pain response, remain within acceptable parameters."

  Doc sighed, leaning back against the shuttle hull. "So you're telling me I have to suffer through the night with broken ribs because some programmer back home didn't consider 'crashed on fantasy planet' when writing your protocols?"

  "The protocol exists to protect you, Doc. Nanite healing accelerates your metabolic rate by 300%. Without proper rest cycle integration, the process could induce fever, hallucinations, or seizures. Your judgment would be compromised."

  "My judgment is already compromised by pain," Doc grumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

  "I can administer a mild analgesic through targeted neural blocking. It will reduce pain sensation by approximately 60% without triggering healing protocol restrictions."

  Doc considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Do it."

  The pain dulled almost immediately as Lux adjusted his neural pathways, leaving only a distant ache. Doc exhaled slowly, tension draining from his shoulders.

  "Better?"

  "Better," Doc admitted. "But I still think we should reconsider those protocols. We don't know what the night might bring."

  "The healing sequence will activate automatically once you enter REM sleep. By morning, approximately 70% of the damage should be repaired."

  Doc finished his ration bar and took a long drink from his water purifier. "Alright, you win this round. But when we get back to civilization, I'm having a serious talk with the programming department about situational flexibility."

  "I'll make a note in the mission log," Lux replied, with what Doc could have sworn was the slightest hint of smugness.

  Doc pulled the emergency thermal blanket over himself, wincing as his cracked ribs protested the movement. The pain blockers had helped, but they couldn't eliminate the discomfort entirely.

  "Lux, run one final perimeter scan before I sleep. Anything moving out there I should worry about?"

  "Negative. Perimeter remains secure. Local fauna activity is minimal and non-threatening. No large predators detected within scanning range."

  "You're sure? That dragon could have friends."

  "The dragon's energy signature is not present within my scanning radius of five kilometers. I detect only small nocturnal creatures and ambient forest movement."

  Doc settled back, adjusting his makeshift pillow. "Wake me if anything larger than a rabbit approaches camp."

  "Understood. Entering passive monitoring mode. Sleep well, Doc."

  The forest sounds faded as exhaustion claimed him, his body surrendering to the healing sleep it desperately needed.

  A low, mournful howl pierced Doc's consciousness, dragging him from deep sleep. His eyes snapped open to pitch darkness.

  "Lux? Status report," he whispered, instantly alert.

  "Multiple large predators approaching from the northwest. Configuration matches canine morphology. Distance: eighty meters and closing rapidly."

  Doc fumbled for his plasma gun, his ribs screaming in protest. "Activate helmet. Full sensor suite."

  His suit helmet materialized around his head with a soft hiss, the HUD display illuminating with thermal signatures moving through the trees. Eight distinct heat signatures, moving in a coordinated pattern that spoke of practiced hunting tactics.

  "Wolves," Doc muttered, checking his weapon's charge. "Just what I needed."

  "Correction," Lux interjected. "These specimens exceed standard wolf parameters by approximately 40% in mass. Thermal readings indicate unusual cranial density, particularly in the jaw structure."

  Another howl split the night, closer this time. Doc positioned himself with his back to the shuttle hull, plasma gun raised.

  "Combat mode, Lux. Prioritize threat assessment and targeting."

  "Combat mode engaged."

  The HUD display shifted, highlighting the approaching predators with threat indicators. The first wolf burst through the underbrush at the edge of their camp—massive, with storm-gray fur and eyes that reflected an unnatural amber glow in the darkness. It paused, assessing Doc with predatory intelligence.

  "That is not a normal wolf," Doc breathed.

  "Confirmed. Biological scan indicates reinforced skeletal structure. Detecting trace mineral deposits in dental and claw formations."

  The wolf snarled, exposing metallic-looking fangs. Two more appeared at its flanks, spreading out in a textbook flanking maneuver.

  "So much for a good night's sleep," Doc sighed, then called out firmly: "Targeting solutions, now!"

  The lead wolf lunged. Doc fired, the plasma bolt catching it mid-leap. The creature's momentum carried it forward even as the plasma burned through its chest. It crashed to the ground mere feet from him, dead before it landed.

  The pack attacked in unison. Doc rolled to avoid snapping jaws, ignoring the white-hot pain in his ribs. He fired twice more, dropping another wolf as it charged. A third managed to get close enough to tear at his suit sleeve, teeth scraping against the reinforced material.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Left flank!" Lux warned.

  Doc pivoted, firing point-blank into the face of a wolf that had nearly flanked him. The beast collapsed, skull half-vaporized by the plasma discharge.

  For thirty frantic seconds, the night was chaos—snarls, plasma discharges, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground. Doc moved with machine-like precision, Lux's targeting assistance turning each shot into a kill.

  When the dust settled, seven massive wolf carcasses lay scattered around the camp. Doc stood breathing heavily, plasma gun still raised, scanning for movement.

  "Threat assessment?" he gasped, ribs throbbing with each breath.

  "One remaining canine signature. Juvenile, based on size. Located twenty meters east, stationary."

  Doc turned, weapon trained on the underbrush. A smaller wolf, barely more than a pup, stood frozen at the edge of the clearing. Its eyes reflected the same amber glow as the others, but where they had shown predatory hunger, this one's gaze held something different—fear, perhaps, or curiosity.

  Doc kept his weapon trained on the wolf pup, unwilling to fire but equally unwary of turning his back on it.

  "Lux, keep monitoring that pup. Alert me if it approaches."

  "Acknowledged. Juvenile specimen remains stationary. Heart rate elevated but posture indicates non-aggressive stance."

  Satisfied the young wolf wasn't an immediate threat, Doc turned his attention to the carnage around him. Seven massive wolf carcasses lay scattered across the perimeter of his camp, their muscular bodies illuminated by the camp's emergency lights. As he stepped toward the nearest carcass, a sharp, searing pain lanced through his side, nearly buckling his knees.

  "Damn it," he hissed through clenched teeth, pressing a hand against his ribs. The pain was worse than before, radiating through his entire left side.

  "Lux, run another scan. I think that last dodge did more damage."

  "Initiating emergency biological assessment," Lux replied. Doc felt the familiar tingle as the AI's sensors worked through his body. "Scan complete. Previous rib fractures have progressed to complete breaks. Two ribs now have displaced fractures with potential for lung puncture. Internal bleeding detected in surrounding tissue."

  Doc grimaced. "That's not good. Emergency healing protocol override. Focus on stabilizing the rib cage and stopping internal bleeding."

  "Override accepted due to risk assessment. Initiating targeted nanite deployment to rib cage and surrounding tissue. Warning: limited healing only. Full repair still requires complete rest cycle."

  A warm sensation spread through Doc's side as the nanites began their work, knitting together the worst of the damage. The pain dulled to a manageable throb.

  "While we're at it, run a full analysis on these wolf specimens. Are they edible? Any useful components we should salvage?"

  "Analyzing biological composition," Lux replied as Doc carefully knelt beside the largest wolf. "Analysis complete. Specimens contain no toxic compounds harmful to human consumption. Protein content 22% higher than standard Earth canids. Mineral deposits in teeth and claws composed primarily of iron and tungsten compounds – unusually dense and sharp. Hide thickness approximately three times standard wolf dermis with enhanced tensile strength. Recommendation: meat is safe for consumption; hide, teeth, and claws potentially valuable as survival materials."

  Doc ran a gloved hand over the wolf's thick fur, noting its unusual density. "Interesting. We might have found our first useful resource on this planet."

  Doc eyed the largest wolf carcass, considering his options. The meat would provide better sustenance than his dwindling ration supply, and that hide could offer additional protection against the elements. No sense letting good resources go to waste.

  "Lux, let's process this specimen. Monitor that pup while I work."

  "Juvenile wolf remains at perimeter. No aggressive movement detected."

  Doc activated his MANTIS gauntlet, the sleek device humming to life on his forearm. A thin, blue-white plasma filament extended from the tool's edge—perfect for the precision work ahead. Though this particular species was new, the process was familiar territory. His years exploring uncharted worlds had made field dressing alien fauna a necessary skill.

  "Starting ventral incision," he muttered, more for his own benefit than Lux's.

  The plasma edge sliced effortlessly through the thick hide, parting it without resistance. Doc worked methodically, his movements precise despite his injured ribs. The gauntlet's scanning function helped identify optimal cutting paths, highlighting dense muscle groups and skeletal junctions on his HUD.

  As he separated the hide from the underlying tissue, Doc noticed something unusual embedded near the creature's heart. A small, crystalline object roughly the size of his thumb glowed with a faint amber light—the same color as the wolf's eyes had reflected.

  "Lux, are you seeing this?" Doc carefully extracted the object with the gauntlet's micro-manipulators. The crystal pulsed slightly in his palm, warm to the touch even through his gloves.

  "Object detected. Composition unknown. No match in database."

  Doc turned the crystal, watching how it caught the light. "Run a comprehensive scan. Energy readings, molecular structure, everything."

  "Scanning," Lux replied. "Initial analysis indicates crystalline lattice structure with unusual energy signature. Object emits low-level radiation in previously unrecorded spectrum. Internal structure appears to contain organized energy patterns inconsistent with natural crystal formation."

  "Some kind of biological battery?" Doc wondered aloud, holding the crystal closer to his visor for a better look.

  "Insufficient data for definitive classification. However, energy patterns suggest intentional design rather than random formation. Recommend caution in handling until further analysis complete."

  Doc sighed, turning the crystal over once more before carefully placing it in a specimen container from his field kit. "Great, another mystery we have no idea how to solve. This planet's just full of surprises."

  He sealed the container and tucked it into his pack, making a mental note to run more thorough tests when he had proper equipment. For now, the immediate priorities remained the same—survival and resource collection.

  With practiced efficiency, Doc returned to processing the wolf carcasses. The meat was dense and dark, with a higher fat content than Earth wolves—perfect for sustaining him through the coming days. He used the plasma tool to separate usable portions, wrapping them in sterile field packaging.

  The hide proved even more interesting upon closer inspection. Its remarkable thickness and durability would make excellent supplementary protection against the elements. Doc carefully removed the largest intact sections, planning to cure them properly once daylight returned.

  "Fascinating adaptive trait," he muttered as he extracted several of the metallic-looking fangs. "Natural mineral integration in biological structures. Lux, make sure we document all of this thoroughly."

  After an hour of methodical work, Doc had salvaged everything useful from the wolf pack. His makeshift camp now contained neatly packaged meat, rolled hides, and a small collection of teeth and claws that might serve as tools or trade goods, depending on what passed for civilization on this world.

  With the immediate task complete, Doc's attention returned to the wolf pup still lingering at the edge of the clearing. It hadn't moved since the fight, maintaining its distance while watching his every move with wary amber eyes.

  "Hey there," Doc called softly, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. "Your pack made a bad choice tonight. You should find a new one."

  The pup's ears twitched, but it made no move to leave.

  "Go on," Doc tried again, making a gentle shooing motion. "This isn't a safe place for you anymore."

  The young wolf tilted its head, seemingly studying Doc with an intelligence that went beyond animal curiosity.

  Doc sighed, too exhausted to deal with another complication tonight. "Lux, keep monitoring our little friend there. Wake me if it approaches camp or if any more of its relatives show up."

  "Acknowledged. Maintaining surveillance on juvenile specimen."

  Doc carefully lowered himself back onto his makeshift bed, wincing as his partially-healed ribs protested. "I'm going back to sleep. Between broken ribs, crashed shuttles, and wolf attacks, I've had enough excitement for one night."

  Doc woke to the golden light of dawn filtering through the forest canopy. His ribs ached less than expected, the nanite healing having done its work while he slept. He sat up slowly, taking stock of his surroundings. The wolf carcasses remained where he'd left them, but something was missing.

  "Lux, where's our little spectator?" He scanned the edge of the clearing where the wolf pup had kept its vigil.

  "The juvenile specimen departed approximately three hours after you entered sleep cycle. It approached the remains of the adult specimens, specifically the largest one, before retreating into the forest. No return detected."

  Doc nodded, stretching carefully to test his healing ribs. "Probably its parent. Not surprising it wanted one last look."

  His stomach growled loudly, reminding him it had been nearly eighteen hours since his last proper meal. The emergency ration bars were designed for sustenance, not satisfaction, and the idea of chewing through another one of those tasteless bricks held little appeal when fresh meat was available.

  "Let's try some of our new local cuisine," Doc decided, eyeing the neatly packaged wolf meat. "Better to save the rations for when we really need them."

  He gathered some dry wood from the edge of the clearing and arranged a small cooking fire, using his plasma gun on its lowest setting to ignite it. The flames caught quickly, dancing yellow and orange in the morning light.

  "Lux, what's the best way to prepare wolf meat? Anything in your culinary database?"

  "Searching culinary archives... Wolf meat from Earth species was historically prepared similar to venison due to its lean composition. Recommended preparation includes marination in red wine, juniper berries, bay leaves, and garlic, followed by slow roasting to break down muscle fibers."

  Doc stared at the flames, then looked down at his field kit. "Lux, I don't have red wine. Or juniper berries. Or bay leaves. Or garlic. I have salt and pepper packets from my emergency rations."

  "Adjusting parameters," Lux replied smoothly. "Searching for minimalist preparation methods."

  Doc skewered a piece of the dark meat on a makeshift spit fashioned from a straight branch. "While you're searching, I'll get started. Can't be that hard to cook meat over fire. Humans have been doing it for millennia."

  "Simple preparation method located," Lux announced. "For game meats with minimal seasoning: cook slowly over medium heat to prevent toughening. Salt before cooking to draw out excess blood. Apply pepper near end of cooking process to prevent burning of volatile compounds. Ensure internal temperature reaches 145 degrees Fahrenheit minimum to eliminate parasitic organisms."

  "Now that's more like it." Doc sprinkled salt over the meat, watching as it immediately began drawing moisture to the surface. "See? Practical solutions for practical problems."

  He positioned the skewer over the flames, adjusting the height to achieve the medium heat Lux had recommended. The meat sizzled gently, releasing a rich, gamey aroma that made his stomach growl again.

  "Smells promising," Doc commented, rotating the skewer slowly. "Any insights on the taste profile I should expect?"

  "Based on biological composition, meat likely possesses higher mineral content than standard Earth wolves. Flavor profile potentially more intense with notes of iron. Texture analysis suggests denser muscle fiber requiring longer cooking time to tenderize."

  Doc watched the meat brown, fat occasionally dripping into the flames with a satisfying hiss. "So what you're saying is it might taste like liver-infused steak. I've had worse."

  The sun climbed higher as Doc tended his improvised breakfast, the forest around him coming alive with sounds of alien birds and rustling vegetation. Despite the circumstances, there was something almost peaceful about the moment—a reminder that survival often came down to the simplest of human activities.

  When the meat reached what appeared to be proper doneness, Doc added a light dusting of pepper and removed it from the fire. He cut a small piece, examining it critically before taking his first bite of native fauna.

  Doc took another bite of the wolf meat and immediately regretted it. The flavor hit his palate like a scientific experiment gone wrong—gamey and metallic, with an unmistakable liver-like quality that made his taste buds protest.

  "Well, that's... unfortunate," he muttered, forcing himself to swallow. "Lux, make a note: local canid species tastes like someone mixed liver with iron filings."

  "Noted. Would you like me to add a culinary rating to the specimen record?"

  "One star. Would not recommend." Doc poked at the remaining meat with his knife, debating whether hunger outweighed taste. "And given my luck on this planet so far, I'll probably be digging a latrine in a few hours."

  He sighed, looking at the uneaten portion. What had started as a simple anomaly study had cascaded into a survival situation complete with crashed shuttle, broken ribs, and now, inedible local cuisine. The straightforward mission parameters from just days ago seemed almost laughable now.

  "Movement detected at perimeter," Lux announced suddenly. "Juvenile canid returning. Approaching from the northeast quadrant."

  Doc's eyebrows rose. "Our little friend is back? Interesting."

  "Current trajectory suggests it will emerge approximately fifteen meters to your right in 42 seconds."

  Doc set aside the unappetizing meat and stood carefully, mindful of his healing ribs. "Let's go see what it wants."

  He walked toward the spot Lux had indicated, curious about the pup's return. The young wolf emerged from the underbrush exactly where predicted, but this time it carried something in its jaws.

  "Is that... a fish?" Doc squinted, slowing his approach to avoid startling the animal.

  The wolf pup trotted forward with surprising confidence, stopping about three meters from Doc. It placed the small silver fish on the ground, then backed up two steps, amber eyes fixed on Doc's face.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Doc murmured. "It's bringing me food."

  The pup sat on its haunches, tail sweeping once across the forest floor. The gesture seemed almost formal—a presentation rather than an offering.

  "Lux, what am I looking at here? Behaviorally speaking."

  "Analysis suggests ritualized submission behavior. In wolf pack dynamics, subordinates often present food to the alpha after a dominance has been established. The juvenile appears to be acknowledging you as its new pack leader."

  Doc stared at the pup, then at the fish. "Because I killed its pack? That's... not how I expected this to go." Doc sighed and asked Lux

  "Scan the fish, would you? Let's see if it's any more edible than wolf meat."

  "Scanning," Lux replied. "Fish appears to be a freshwater species similar to Earth trout. Protein content high, omega-3 fatty acid concentration 22% above Earth equivalent. No detected toxins or parasites. Nutritional value excellent. Likely far more palatable than the canid meat."

  Doc looked from the fish to the pup, which continued to watch him expectantly. The young wolf's behavior presented an unexpected complication. He had planned to repair the shuttle and leave this planet as soon as possible—not adopt local wildlife.

  "What exactly am I supposed to do with a wolf pup, Lux?"

  "Insufficient data to provide recommendation. However, canids have historically formed mutually beneficial relationships with humans. This specimen appears to possess above-average intelligence for a non-sentient species."

  The pup tilted its head, as if understanding it was being discussed.

  "Great," Doc sighed. "I crash-land on an unknown planet, and within 24 hours I've accidentally become a wolf's pack leader. The mission report on this one is going to be a masterpiece of understatement."

  Thanks for sticking with it!

  If you're enjoying the story so far, I’d love to hear your thoughts—comments, ratings, or even just a thumbs up go a long way for new authors like me.

  Chapter 3 is already up and ready whenever you are.