Ruck, Willinkree
Year 3042 Day 35
“No! Let go of me!” shouted [Sil] as she struggled to break the brute’s hold.
The class C stared dumbly back at her, glaring at him [Sil] pulled at her bonds and sat down on the ground unable to make them even budge in the large alien’s hands.
On the ground [Sil] continued to half heartedly try and struggle free from the bonds. For several moments the brute did nothing but watch her, his head cocked to the side as he went through some primitive thought process.
Huffing in annoyance [Sil] turned away from him and watched the other class C animals as they meandered around the field. The fat one was still wielding [Fred]’s weapon occasionally fired it off into the air and at branches or rocks blowing them apart. Each explosion would further distract the men worker as they shouted and applauded the destruction. The fat class C would revel in it for several moments before shouting again.
[Sil] kept her eyes on the weapon as the class C waved it around, it was like watching a child play with a gun. A child that deserved to shoot itself in the foot a few dozen times.
So far little in the way of actual work had been completed, assuming the goal was to tie additional ropes around the escape pod. The excitement of the Imperial technology to much for them.
To [Sil] it was a surreal sight watching a blue skinned harry class C wield one of the finest weapons that had ever been created by the Empire. [Fred]’s weapon didn’t look terribly different from the normal guns used by most Imperial personnel, but given her position it was the most reliable weapon in the Empire.
Glumly [Sil] estimated that it would take a few decades of misuse at the hands of the class C before it failed.
Once again the number of unlikely things which had to occur for her to even watch a class C wield [Fred]’s weapon with her dead on the ground was absurd, from the very beginning the chances of a ship the Empress of the Empire was on suffering a failure was close to impossible. The fact that the tachyon beacon in the system that the ship had dropped out of FTL in was inoperable another incredibly unlikely event.
Finally, the odd behavior of the class C’s.
It had taken [Sil] several minutes to place it, but the class C’s knew what her weapon was. They hardly looked to be using anything more complex than a bow and arrow. Meaning they had seen the technology before. The fact that they were not fearful of her different appearance, of her alien craft, of what she was, it all added up into one possibility.
Her saboteur intended for her to land on this planet, and the class C at the very least knew something of the Empire. Their had been experiments in the past, at the dawn of the expansion period. Species C14 had been at a level of technological development barely higher than stone huts and primitive metalworking. The Imperial agents had introduced themselves as gods and demanded tribute.
The resources had been paltry, but the intent had been to breed a subservient class C race that could be utilized in war.
The difficulties with the project and the fast based development of orbital weapons and other systems had quickly made it to costly. Abandoned by their gods the C14 race had killed themselves in primitive wars. The planet had been colonized without incident for the past 1,000 years.
Something similar had happened here, but judging by her own treatment and she was not a god in their eyes.
[Sil]’s blood ran cold, and her skin lightened. If someone wanted her to suffer, then this species was more than likely something they had specifically in mind for the task.
[Sil] was violently pulled from her thoughts as one of the brutes stooped down and pawed at [Fred]’s body.
“Stop!” shouted [Sil].
The aliens glanced up over at her and then quickly looked at the fat class C.
The fat class C barked several things in quick succession, and stomped towards [Sil].
The Empress straightened as he did so, and glared up at the brute. She was very much aware of the fact that her own height put her at barely mid chest level with the creature, and it was hardly the tallest specimen, it was easily the fattest though.
The fat class C leaned down a lecherous grin on it’s face.
“!Tessop xiu sov eralutsop anevda!”
“Do not touch her!” growled [Sil] lowering her voice to the tone she used when addressing the military commanders of the Empire who would hardly be cowed by soft words and tones. How her husband had dealt with those men on a daily basis she had no idea. The stress would have contributed to an early natural death if he had not been attacked.
The alien holding her ropes said something in a far calmer tone of voice and the fat one glanced at him taking his eyes away from [Sil] and straightening up, his hand lashed out and [Sil] found herself on the alien dirt, the side of her face on fire and a bruise already developing even as she touched it.
Whimpering in pain [Sil] curled up to avoid any further attacks.
The fat class C laughed and raising the gun into the air fired it once. The men save for the one holding her ropes all laughed along with him. Turning back around the fat alien shouted something at the men around [Fred]’s corpse.
[Sil] opened an eye in time to see the class C try to cut the clothing away from her, the knives they used having absolutely no effect on the advanced armor that was designed to look like a normal suit. For several moments the larger aliens stabbed at her suit to no avail.
For several moments the aliens manhandled her corpse stabbing at it with their knives before apparently realizing it wad going to have little effect. Changing tactics, the men tentatively began to paw at the body.
One reached down along the suit and on accident hooked a finger into the neckline of the suit violently pulled, the clasp somewhere inside of it gave and the suit partially opened exposing her red skin as well as the smaller electronics and weapons under her suit that were in contact with her skin.
Biomonitoring and subdermal communication equipment if [Sil] had to guess.
The alien’s let out excited cries and the fat Class C shouted something again and brandished the gun. The others slowly backed off, collapsing to his knees the fat class C finished ripping the suit off of [Fred] grabbing the internal electronics up the class C unceremoniously began to pull the bandages and the rest of [Fred]’s clothing away looking for more of the technology.
[Sil] opened her mouth to shout again, to demand that the class C’s treat her with respect when a blue four fingered, foul smelling, hairy hand was suddenly over her mouth.
The brute who had tied her wrists and was holding onto the bindings was stopping her from shouting! Angrily [Sil] bit down on the hand. The class C ignored it for a moment his eyes widening slightly, moving with deliberate speed he jabbed [Sil] in the side knocking the air out of her lungs.
Gasping [Sil] released his hand and he slowly drew it away. [Sil] noted that despite the force with which she had attacked his skin only s light indentation showed on his digits.
“I will speak!” growled [Sil].
The class C winced and the fat one glanced up his eyes seeming to tear away from the technology in his hand with difficulty.
“?atsurf allets mae tibadun te!”
Her captor winced again and slowly spoke several times his words echoing through the silent clearing. [Sil] despite not understanding the language froze feeling the tension rise to a level that several moments ago would have seemed impossible.
The fat class C spoke his words again, his voice icy as he slowly straightened up.
Dropping the rope to the ground the brute holding her bonds walked over to one of the packs around the clearing and rummaged through it. [Sil]’s eyes darted to the dropped rope, her own wrists and then the other aliens around the clearing.
For a moment she considered bolting for the woods, making a run for it on the alien planet. So long as she got away from the class C’s she would be better off, if that meant having to deal with the animals of the planet so be it.
She was going to live, that much [Sil] knew. The Empire would survive without her, but she wanted to see [Vann] again.
Taking the blanket from the pack Piral turned around to see the star woman was where he had left her, although she looked like a young mount ready to bolt. Her eyes were darting in every direction, her thoughts plain as day.
Piral slowly approached, the dropping of the ropes had been strategic in his mind. The woman apparently spoke none of the proper language, and as much as the Duke shouted at her it was unlikely to communicate the message needed.
“Duke could you bring some of that star metal over here?” asked Piral as he slowly approached the star woman the blanket held out towards her.
“She will take it. I am not risking that.”
Straightening up and shoving the small second skin the injured star woman had been wearing as well as the star metal into the voluminous pockets of his jacket the Duke raised his star thrower towards the star woman.
“Your star metal, where is it?”
The star woman’s eyes were locked on the Duke, or rather the tip of the star thrower. If Piral had to guess she probably knew more about the amount of damage the celestial weapon could do. Even at the best of times the Duke did little to scare most
“Duke she has no understanding of our language, speaking to her isn’t going to work.”
The Duke used the star thrower and a small burst of light arced through the air over the star woman’s head. She winced but otherwise remained still staring back at the Duke challenging him.
Stepping between the two Piral raised the blanket. The star woman shifted her gaze to him and he slowly picked up the binding’s again. She stiffened but said nothing her eyes warily watching him as if he might suddenly jump and attack.
Reaching out Piral slowly put his hand at the neck of the woman’s second skin and tugged, predictably the star woman jerked away from him and began to shout in her own language. Piral waited several moments before tugging on the ropes around her wrists.
She fought and Piral held the rope steady.
Again he reached out and took the hem of her second skin in hand, pulling on it the thing gave after a moment splitting along some invisible seam. More of her strange red skin was exposed to the air and above her Piral looked down the star woman’s back.
“She does not have star metal underneath this,” said Piral only taking a moment to marvel at the oddity of no hair.
“Is the second skin like the first one?” asked the Duke.
Piral quickly drew his knife and the star woman stopped struggling for a moment her eyes on it. Looking down at her bound arm’s Piral managed to quickly pinch up a small amount of the second skin, stabbing his knife into it the Tamer had to marvel at the invulnerability of the material. It was soft like cloth, but it felt like he was trying to stab through metal.
“It is.”
“Take it off her.” Demanded the Duke.
Piral winced and glanced back at the man, “I’m not sure that is wise, she is skittish enough as is, like an East Yaral woman.”
“Now Tamer!”
With a sigh Piral turned and brought his knife down on the woman’s bindings cutting them. She blinked stunned for a moment, and Piral took advantage of that. Pulling at the second skin around the neck again he quickly managed to pull half of it down the woman before she could fight.
The star woman let out a yelp, and slapped at Piral her red arms flailing in the mid day sun. Most of the men still working paused to look at the odd sight of the red skin as it was exposed. Piral ignored her weak attacks, compared to the impacts the young mounts could inflict they were nothing.
The star woman continued to struggle even as the garment tangled in her arms for a moment, like one of the more complex robes the Tamer had worn on occasion the garments sleeves were tight and difficult to remove by force. It would have been far easier to cut them off, but that seemed to be impossible.
Piral calmly put his hand around the star woman’s throat. She froze, her eyes locked on him. Piral hadn’t tightened his grip, but it seemed like the implied threat was enough. Still glaring hatred, the woman stopped struggling long enough to Piral to pull the rest of the second skin off.
It collected at her feet and Piral noted that her red face was now a slightly paler version of what it had been several minutes ago as she shouted. Small undergarments remained on her, covering her sex and oddly enough her chest. Quickly looking the woman up and down Piral noted no other star metal pieces.
“She has none,” grunted Piral.
Duke Frin sigh in frustration and lumbered forwards. Piral ignored him and held the blanket out to the star woman. She scrunched up her nose for a moment, and then hesitatingly took it. Her eyes flicked back to the Duke and she quickly draped it over her shoulders hiding much of her red skin again.
Stooping down the Duke grabbed the second skin pulling it out from under the star woman. She yelped and fell to the ground.
“I would have thought the star women would be as strong as their men.”
“The other one was, were she not injured…” Piral trailed off not saying the rest of the thought. The stance and the demeanor of the other woman had been like that of the King’s guard. With the star thrower and even a fraction of the skill the King’s guard portrayed he had no doubt the Duke would be dead.
The Duke laughed, “Tamer I would have thought you of all people would have a firm hand.”
Piral smiled as he stooped down next to the woman, she was curled up in the blanket on the ground now, her face in the dirt. She was crying as far as he could tell but was at the same time trying to contain the sobs. Not wanting to leave her in distress over her situation Piral stooped down and wrapped the length of rope over her wrists again tying the knot with practiced ease.
She would at least no longer be thinking of escape on anything but an abstract level. Taking the option to simply run away was kinder than leaving her thinking she could attempt it at any moment and have a chance of success.
“A firm hand is needed to be a Tamer, Duke but a firm hand does not mean being unnecessarily cruel. Some animals respond to the reward far better than the whip. It goes doubly so for most slaves,”
“The star woman is not a slave,” said Duke Frin his voice flat.
“No, but she does not know our tongue like the slaves from the East. I do not know precisely what the Merchants do with new slaves to teach them, but it cannot be that much different from what I do to train the beasts of your estate.”
The Duke pondered this for a moment as he stuffed the second skin into his jacket.
“You think you could teach her to speak? That would make her presentation to the King all the more impressive.”
“Not in the few days we have no, perhaps a phrase. She will not understand the words.”
“A pity. Very well if she is able to recite her marriage vows that would be for the best.”
The Duke turned back to the men who were for the most part watching the star woman as she tried to cover herself up with the blanket.
“We’re not making a camp tonight! Finish!” shouted the Duke.
The men turned and as one continued about their task of levering the metal star piece out of the ground.
Piral noted that the star woman tensed as one of the men unceremoniously picked up the corpse of the other one and dragged it to the side away from the workers. Unconcerned he dropped it into the underbrush of the trees to rot.
Piral frowned and hoped they would indeed be breaking camp before night fall. Leaving something as tempting as a corpse for the animals to scent was an idiotic thing to do. Most of the men in the Duke’s party were farmers and laborers comfortable to trust town defenses and that the animals had learned to approach.
The red woman took several steps forwards, towards the corpse. Piral tightened his hand on the rope halting her progress. The woman drew herself up looking like one of the King’s consorts, haughty but easily cowed when they had nothing to back themselves up with.
The woman tugged at the rope again.
“No.” Growled Piral using the same voice he used with the young Mounts.
She quelled slightly but after a moment her face hardened and she repeated the gesture. Piral turned and stomped towards the corpse dragging her along. That was enough to confirm that despite her demeanor their was some tenacity behind the star woman. If their was to much of it she would get herself killed before to long.
The Duke was tolerating her only because she was a bargaining chip unlike any he had ever had the opportunity to acquire. If that value dropped, or was ruined in some way she would be killed out of spite if nothing else.
She could also very easily be his own. The Duke was an easy man to fool, Piral had simply never had an opportunity as good as the one in front of him to betray the man. Re-entry into the King’s favor was guaranteed if he provided him with a star woman as a bride.
Piral was torn from his musings as the star woman stooped down next to the corpse, Piral watch curious as she greeted death, she had no fear of the body even going so far as to lay her hands on the brow of the dead one.
The star woman muttered for several minutes before standing and turning away from the body spat onto the ground. Piral shook his head, it was the oddest death ritual he had ever seen. Perhaps the people from the stars knew how to defeat death?
[Sil] winced as the class C, ‘Piral’ dropped her into the wooden stall, not a prison cell. The rough stone floor and heavy wooden logs made it as impenetrable as any cell guarded by energy shielding though given that the only technology she had from the Empire was her undergarments. Not something that could help to escape from any type of prison cell.
“I am not sleeping here!” growled [Sil] her voice hoarse and dry.
The class C looked at hr for a moment considering.
“Erenam!” said ‘Piral’. He pointed at the floor, “Sil, erenam!”
The blue alien knelt and once again cut the bonds from [Sil]’s wrist. Standing and not looking back the man walked out of the stall and grabbed the heavy wooden door, pulling it shut behind him. [Sil] heard something mechanical fall into place.
Knowing it was locked but unwilling to let any opportunity slip by [Sil] slowly pushed on he door, which did not budge. The wood was harder than any she had ever seen and seemed to be compressed.
For several moments the Empress tried to process everything that had happened. She had at the beginning of the day been inside of an escape pod drifting towards a planet that was at the very least habitable.
She was never supposed to even see the class C brutes that inhabited it. Even if they were close [Fred] was supposed to ward them off. Now she was in a wooden, pen. Like some sort of animal.
The blue aliens had dragged the escape pod back with them to some sort of primitive estate, the lighting had been dim when she had been carried through it. The sun already setting and with only torches providing illumination.
The ‘buildings’ were constructed of wood and not much else, even the largest of which was the size of the Lead Servant’s of her own Palace. By the time they were at the estate [Sil] had stopped trying to fight out of Piral’s grip. For the first few hours slung over his shoulder she had struggled, but unable to break the brute’s grip all it did was give her bruises. She had managed to keep the blanket on though, if that was an accomplishment [Sil] was not sure, it smelled of animals and sweat none of which was remedied by soap of any kind.
The distance traveled had been only [five kilometers] at most but on the class C’s shoulder it had not been a comfortable one and it had taken the rest of the day. It was only made more uncomfortable by the fat class C constantly yelling instructions and whipping the backside of the six legged creatures as it and the other men slowly pulled the escape pod with them through the terrain.
[Sil] had picked up on the class C brute’s name. It had been one of the repeated phrases, and as loathsome as it was to learn anything from the class C bound and unable to fight [Sil] had to resolved to at least listen. Playing politics to her advantage was difficult if she knew nothing of the relationships.
Even observing them, it was plain that the class C were brutes, barely able to string sentences together. When the sun had begun to dip below the horizon the class C had paused to let the six legged animal rest. Food had been pulled from roughly made leather bags, and consumed with no grace or manners. The food itself looked like scorched meat and lumpy bread, Piral had offered some to her but [Sil] simply pushed it away disgusted.
The fattest class C, who [Sil] was sure by now was the leader given his better clothing and food had consumed what looked like an entire animal’s rib cage and a loaf of the disgusting bread the size of his own head.
The rest of the brutes had spent the break, spitting, scratching at themselves, and sporadically breaking into raucous laughter, the hair was the worst thing. The follicles were everywhere on the creatures! It stuck out at odd angles on their bodies and was for most matted with dirt and twigs of grass and other things woven into it. The only cutting of the disgusting growth that most seemed to do was around their faces, if only to ensure they could see and eat.
Shivering [Sil] drew the rough blanket closer. It was as disgusting as the creatures, but the planet was cold.
In her basic suit [Sil] had barely noticed the temperature of the planet, able to ignore the biting feeling on her face and hands. When the brute had ripped it off, and taken it. [Sil] was quickly reminded that the planet had almost zero tilt and that the only habitable environment was the equatorial region giving the poles large and dominating ice caps.
Slowly sitting down in the far corner of the pen [Sil] shivered as tear once again threatened to flow. She was the Empress, but this was far outside of her realm of experience. Class C’s were supposed to be only a statistic, a number that was to be slowly whittled down. Like the bad dreams of a child, they were never real.
To suddenly be in the middle of such a bad dream, nearly naked and at the mercy of a class C species. She had trained and prepared for kidnapping, death threats, any other possibility that might present itself in her course of a ruler of the Empire.
Curling up the Empress let her thoughts drift to her son.
[Vann].
If nothing else she was going to live so she could see him again. After ordering every weapons test on the planet she was on. It would burn as she comforted her son, one less class C for him to worry about.
Duke Frin leaned back in his chair a smug smile on his face.
Behind the man a large fireplace held an almost impossibly hot fire. Piral even on the opposite side of the room in another of the large chairs was almost to hot. A rare feeling, and not a comfortable one.
On the small table in front of the man were the star pieces from the dead star woman, as well as several others that had been pulled from the star egg. Several of the metals were blinking on and off, one had even made noise when the Duke had poked it.
The star thrower was in his lap though, the man had not let it further than an arms reach away since acquiring it.
“I think this is a voice thrower.” The duke poked one of the wide flat pieces of star metal.
Piral said nothing, and simply sipped at the alcohol that the Duke had ordered for himself. Other servants and men were around the outside of the room quietly watching the man as he poured over the items.
Few had every had an opportunity to see even one piece of the star metals, the King’s inner staff only the ones who saw them regularly. On holidays one device would usually be brought out for the masses to see, but in recent years such events had become rare.
“Have you discovered anything about the star woman?” asked the Duke hardly glancing up from his spoils.
“I have not had time to do anything Duke. You insisted that I accompany you here.”
Frin glanced up and frowned, “You carried her the entire afternoon, that was not enough time?”
“Proximity does not grant me understanding with my animals, I do not think it would be any more effective with people. I need to interact with her if I am to train her to be a gift from you to the King.”
Duke Frin sat up straighter, bumping the small table with his stomach. The Duke hesitated to steady the table, but was saved any actual interruption as the doors to the fire room opened with a bang.
The Duke stood his face twisting in anger for only a moment before going wide.
“Guide!”
“Duke Frin!” shouted the Guide, in a voice much higher than what Piral had expected. Turning in his chair the Tamer winced. The man was a Guide, his gray robes, hairless body, and red painted skin evidence enough. The man was also barely more than a boy, his face still possessing youthful paunch.
“You have transgressed against the King, and the guidance of the stars!”
In the young guide’s hand a piece of star metal flashed a brilliant red, like a beating hear it pulsed on and off. The Guide held it up in the air breathing hard his flush visible even beneath the paint on his skin.
Piral inwardly groaned but said nothing.
Duke Frin blinked and took a small step back, “Guide?”
“You have a star woman in the Pen’s of your Tamer! You have also taken star metals and even a star thrower as your own! These are transgressions against the King of the highest insult!”
The room’s silence was complete for only a moment.
The gray robes of the young guide rustled and a small creature crawled out of a hidden pocket, looking around for a moment the flyer let out a small squeak and leaping into the air drifted through the warm currents of the room to latch onto Piral’s pants.
Letting out a small chittering the creature crawled up to his shoulder and squatted waiting.
Piral closed his eyes and keeping himself calm, it was not the creatures fault. Pulling the remaining treats from a pocket Piral held them up to Green flyer. The creature greedily pounced on the treats and shoving them into it’s mouth crawled down and disappeared inside it’s pouch on Piral’s belt.
Duke Frin sputtered for several moments, and then his eyes widened.
“Tamer! You, you, what did you do?”
“I informed my King of something I thought he would like to know.”
Duke Frin’s rage was visible to everyone in the room, save for the young Guide whom seemed oblivious to the tension.
“The older Guides were unwilling to travel here Duke Frin, the guiding metal flashed briefly this morning during my watch, but no one believed me. The guiding metal has never acted like this before! I was told I was imagining thing’s, but as you did Tamer I reported to the King almost exactly as your message came through.”
The Guide held up the metal which was still flashing.
“Tamer.” Growled Frin.
The Guide continued, “The metal voyager is new, the last star people descended from the sky in a metal room, much larger than the one in your courtyard. The King will be overjoyed to have new star metals.”
“The star metal is mine.”
The young Guide let his smile fall, “Duke?”
“The King may have the star woman, but the star metal and the egg appeared in my hunting grounds. By all rights they are mine.”
The Guide slowly raised his hands, the flashing star metal held up.
Piral moved forwards, Duke Frin jerked towards him his eyes going wide. He raised the star thrower in his hand and it went off lighting the room for a moment as the small star streaked and hit the far wall.
Tackling the Duke to the ground Piral knocked the star thrower away and stood. Several distressed chattering’s came from his belt and Green flyer pocked his head out. Duke Frin groaned and slowly tried to get to his feet.
Another three small stars briefly ignited the room and three bodies hit the ground.
The young guide had one of the older star throwers in his hand, and three guards lay dead on the floor their weapons on the floors next to them.
“You sent the Flyer, who are you?” asked the Guide.
“Tamer Piral Gallin”
“Gallin? The one who?”
“Yes, that was me,” said Piral cutting the young man off not wanting to hear of his failings yet again.
The Guide looked at him for a moment and his star thrower twitched towards him. Piral raised his eyebrow’s.
“If I am going to be killed, can it at least be at the King’s order?”
The Guide slowly lowered his arm, the star thrower disappeared into his robes. Letting out a sigh the young man nodded, “very well.”
Piral noted the red paint on the ground underneath the man, as well as a few red tinged hairs. He was apparently making water and loosing hair. Piral glanced at the guards and then the young Guide. They were probably the first he had death greet.
“Duke Frin the King thanks you for your service.”
The Guide picked up the star thrower and it too disappeared into his robes. Piral stayed away from the table as the young man stooped down and quickly collected the various pieces of star metal and placed them in a pouch.
“The King will be very, disappointed if the star voyager is missing when he sends for it.”
The Duke sitting on the floor grumbled several things under his breath,
“Duke Frin, you should be very proud. Few of the King’s subjects have ever contributed this much. You will no doubt be well rewarded.”
“I serve the King.”
The Guide smiled, “Tamer, the star woman?”
“I will show you to her.”
The Guide followed as Piral swiftly exited the fire room. The cold of the night snapped back around the two and for not the first time Piral wondered how the Guides managed to remain warm without their hair. The young man seemed unconcerned though as he led him out of the Duke’s estate and to the paddocks and his own quarters.
“You are playing quite a game Tamer,” said the Guide.
Piral smiled, “I ultimately serve the King, did I do anything uncouth contacting him? I was sure the Duke had already sent a message of what had occurred.”
“While out in the field? Did the Duke have another Tamer and a Flyer?”
“I was given no orders, and I must admit I do not know everyone on the staff.”
The Guide chuckled and the conversation died as they stepped into the wooden structure that was Piral’s home.
Collecting and throwing his personal effects into a bag Piral carefully picked up the cage containing the other Flyers of Green Flyers family, as well as the cages containing the Rutnarodo all of whom let out disgruntled growls at being disturbed from their slumber. All of the other creatures including the Mounts were rightfully the Duke’s. Taking them now would only antagonize the man.
“The Star woman?” asked the Guide impatient.
“This way.”
[Sil] let out a yelp as the door to the pen was violently opened. A cold gust of air followed, curling up further into the blanket and the foul smelling straw the Empress looked up.
“Greeting is!” said the red, creature. It was a class C like Piral, who was standing behind him. The class C was painted red, some of the paint on it’s face was missing exposing the blue skin. It was also bald, which made it look disturbingly like a class A.
“What?” asked [Sil].
“Greeting are!” said the class C in such mangled Base that it took [Sil] several moments to understand.
Her eyes widened, even if it was poor communication, the class C might understand her!
“Let me out of here! I demand to be let out!”
The class C listened for several moments and frowned, turning back to Piral he said something in the alien tongue again.
“King to meet. You wife of sun and star. Special ceremony binding of soul and spirit! Meet king and Guides!”
[Sil] hesitated, not sure what to make of that.
“I am meeting the King?”
The red painted class C thought for a moment, “Yes. Apologize, not know language of star. Young. learning.”
Again it took [Sil] several seconds to understand that.
“Am I a prisoner?”
The red painted class C blanched, “No! You are hero of stars! Star people fight unclean, star people fight Humans!”
“Humans?”
The man reached into his robes and rummaged around. After a moment he produced an old extremely worn data tablet. Half of the display was flickering on and off but it was working.
“C1764. They are demons that crashed the star people’s star voyager! You fight yes?”
The image on the display showed yet another class C species, one that appeared to have a wide range of skin colors from a complete burned black to pasty white given the samples it showed. The report was the same standard type that had been inside the escape pod and really only showed the basics of the species none of which were important at the moment. [Sil] quickly paged through the rest of the data tablet looking for more information.
The class C painted in red blanched at this and moved a hand towards [Sil] She ignored him quickly scanning through the contents of the device. Numerous log entries from what looked like a crashed patrol vessel were its primary focus. A cursory glance showed that the crew had finished their analysis of a new planet and were homeward bound when something had happened.
The class C tore the data tablet away and it disappeared back into his robes.
“Sacred, not break!”
“The ship, the King has it?”
“Ship? Star voyager, flies between the stars? It is the most important relic of the King’s lineage.”
[Sil] saw her opportunity, if some old patrol vessel had crashed, even if it was close to [400] years old it would be more than what she had at the moment. It was her ticket off the planet, and once she was back in the Empire.
[Sil] smiled, “Take me to the King.”
She was going to burn the planet first chance she got. They were class C’s and for that alone they deserved to be squashed out.