There weren’t enough words in German or English to express how glad Blitz was that the aliens had been stopped from scrambling his, Exile, Muzzle, and Shag’s brains. He didn’t know exactly what having your brain scrambled was like, but it sounded bad. He’d watched Alien before, after all.
The Doberman pinscher picked himself up off the floor where he’d been groveling in front of the head alien (Hunter and Colleen didn’t need to know about that little incident) before the two aforementioned Rovers, along with the Space Rovers, had come to the rescue. The aliens were quick to get over their surprise at being attacked, and at a command from their leader, counterattacked.
In the ensuing clash, the Rovers began overwhelming their foes using their powers and abilities -- or in some cases, pure dumb luck. One alien who was blocking Blitz’s way found itself flying halfway across the bridge as Blitz rammed into it with his shoulder. Huh. These creatures weren’t very scary after all. In fact, they seemed to be on the same level as your average human was in regards to strength and durability.
“We need reinforcements!” The head alien shouted over the sounds of the fray.
Blitz’s cropped ears shot up. Reinforcements? As if there weren’t enough of these guys to deal with? Nuts to that! Remembering something – or rather, someone, his gaze scoured the bridge. He quickly found who he was looking for. Earlier, when the spaceship had been fired on and the resulting explosions sent everyone crashing to the floor, with no one to support him, Muzzle’s gurney had fallen over, leaving the Rottweiler laying helpless on his back like a turtle.
Ducking laser fire, Blitz scrambled towards him. On the edge of his vision, he noticed Exile also making a beeline for Muzzle. Apparently he had the same idea.
Exile turned his head in Blitz’s direction. Their eyes met. Muzzle had noticed them and was wagging his tail in anticipation. He knew what was coming.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, snowball?”
Back at Mission Control, everyone was celebrating their latest victory. As it turned out, the aliens weren’t aliens at all, but the Road Rovers’ old foe Zachary Storm and his henchmen. He’d faked his death/abduction and had intended to start World War III using several world leaders as his pawns. According to the Master, Storm’s neuron scrambler was responsible for making Blitz’s master as well as everyone else’s act so aggressively and out of character. That hadn’t been his master talking at Camp David the other day when he’d raucously argued with and made wild accusations against the other world leaders. Thankfully, Professor Hubert was hard at work creating a device that would offset the effects of the neuron scrambler, so the Rovers could rest easy.
In hindsight, Blitz felt like a complete idiot for not having picked up on his master’s bizarre behavior sooner. He’d been living with the man going on a year now. But instead he’d gone right along with it and had even proclaimed to the other Rovers that maybe their owners needed to start listening to his. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. Like he didn’t have enough of those under his belt already. Something had told him that he should’ve prevented his master from getting onto Storm’s spacecraft in the first place. Dobermans had been bred for protection for centuries, but he hadn’t been much of a protector at all that day. He felt like a disgrace.
But to his amazement, none of the other Rovers had rubbed his nose in his mistake like he’d been expecting, not even Colleen or Exile. Blitz and the Russian canine hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms that day.
Well, at least Storm had been stopped. Their jobs done and Storm now cooling his heels in an institution for the criminally insane, the team decided to head home. Shag and Colleen had already de-transdogmafied themselves and left for their respective homes. Blitz himself was on his way back to Berlin. Once he had showered (couldn’t go home inexplicably dirty and raise a lot of questions, now could he?), he prepared to go back to the Transdogmafier/Debriefing Room. It was then he spotted Exile having a drink from a water fountain. Blitz had forgotten that the Siberian husky was still there. He stopped. So did Exile.
Straightening up, Exile regarded him serenely. Under his calm gaze, Blitz couldn’t help feeling a little awkward. At the beginning of their mission, he and Exile had been at each other’s throats constantly. Blitz had thought his master was right, Exile thought he was wrong. Yes, they’d had their little spats before, but never anything to that extreme. Granted, they’d put aside their bad blood when things had gotten hairy onboard Storm’s ship, but neither had actually said the words, “I’m sorry” to one another, or talked much about the events that’d prompted the feud in the first place. Was Exile waiting for him to go first?
“Is there something you are wanting?”
“I...” Blitz really was no good at this sort of thing. “Forgot to turn the water in the shower off all the way. Don’t want to leave the Master with a big water bill.” He lamely replied, then paused. “And I want to say something. About the things I said earlier. I didn’t want to admit that my master was wrong. He’s, well, my master.” He helplessly shrugged his broad shoulders.
“There is nothing wrong with being loyal to your master. It is what is making us dogs. That’s why I fought with you the way I did. I started thinking my master must be right one. I apologize for poking you into fights.” Exile may’ve gotten his wording wrong as usual, but the message was loud and clear.
“Well, I might have been… a little rude myself.” Catching the dry look Exile was giving him, Blitz huffed in exasperation. “Okay, okay, I was being annoying. I’m sorry too.” Huh. That wasn’t been as bad as he thought it would be.
Exile beamed his approval. “Keep this up, and apologizing will not be such a chore for you, comrade.”
“Whatever.” Blitz rolled his eyes. “Did you notice your master was acting off?”
“I thought he seemed more… aggressive than usual after leaving the spaceship.” Exile admitted. Noticing Blitz’s face had taken on a slightly disturbed look, Exile eyed him curiously. “Something wrong?”
“It’s…” Should Blitz tell him? Admit he hadn’t even thought anything of how his master had behaved when something had obviously been wrong with the man? “Nothing.”
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Exile studied him, but Blitz merely gave him a reassuring smile in turn.
“Well, I am looking forward to a dog biscuit and a nice long nap when I am getting home.” Exile remarked at length. “Sometimes it is nice to just be regular dog and not have to fight bad guys.”
Blitz felt relief that he’d chosen not to pursue the matter. “You and me both.” A nap and a dog biscuit did sound really nice right about then. If he never saw another U.F.O. or super-criminal again it wouldn’t be too soon. Those were things both he and Exile could agree on.
Great minds really did think alike.