[1y 5m AV]
Ayma would never get tired of bringing cubs on their first shuttle ride. Usually such trips were simple outings to the starbase in orbit around Gao, or educational visits to the odd starship, but it was always the ride up into orbit that thrilled the cubs first. They would press their furry faces against the shuttle windows and watch the ground and the clouds shrink below them, until the stars suddenly became visible. Then their eyes would aim upward, either at one of Gao’s two tiny moons, one of the space stations, or the odd starship that waited in orbit.
It was rare to see an adult act that way. But – by Xiù’s own admission – she was barely an adult, and her face was pressed so close to the shuttle’s window that her tiny nose was bent sideways. Thankfully the window was transparent crystal matrix and she didn’t have to worry about the human accidentally cracking it, not even with her strength. Ayma was happy to see her human Sister showing excitement and wonder – she’d been badly treated by her introduction to the galaxy and its peoples.
After the fateful visit to Furfeg in the city, the Mothers had learned what human misery looked like. Xiù spent most of the next few days in her nest-bed, rarely leaving the dorm and sometimes skipping meals even when Ayma would scold her for it. Unlike a Gaoian she made no noise… instead her eyes watered continuously, and Ayma found herself thinking back, trying to remember if she’d ever behaved the same way in the time she’d been with them. Had she been upset and they hadn’t recognized it?
Myun had barged her way into the Sisters’ dorm and comforted Xiù the way she would any other cub: by cuddling up. Xiù seemed to appreciate it, especially when the other cubs of her “taiji” group decided Myun had the right idea. Soon their instructor was buried in furry little bodies, chittering and jockeying for space on top of the lone alien, their weight utterly meaningless to a creature that could carrying them all simultaneously. It worked, the human making the first of her barking laughs in nearly a ten-day and finally allowing herself to be dragged to the evening meal, where Yulna all but force-fed her.
Ayma had reported Xiù’s improved spirits to Mother-Supreme Giymuy, briefly astounded when she pondered the strange circumstances that lead to her regularly exchanging holovid calls with arguably the most important being on Gao.
It had been nearly half a Gaoian year since that meeting, since the human homeworld had been caged behind an immense bubble built from energy and fear. Gao was slowly taking its place within the Dominion… and as Giymuy had promised, the new member was making a nuisance of itself regarding the enclosure of the human world. They demanded specifications on the shield, debated how long it would be in place, and championed the rights and care of the humans trapped outside. Father Vyan, leader of the Ebony Paw clan and chosen representative to the Galactic Council, had proven to be a particularly cunning member of a clan known for favouring intelligence. He’d begun subtly planting an idea into the heads of the other representatives, one by one: if the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun Confederacy could trap one species within its star system, what was stopping it from doing it to others?
It wasn’t enough to get the other members to unify and demand the Confederacy remove the shield, but it kept them from being too celebratory about its use.
If Furfeg knew about the trouble Gao was making, about the metaphorical knives being planted in his peoples’ collective backs, he didn’t mention it. Instead his periodic holovid calls to the commune – tense, hostile affairs, as Ayma still didn’t like him – merely inquired about Xiù’s health and how well she was subsisting among the Gaoians. He seemed concerned and sympathetic, but she often wondered whether he was checking to make sure the human hadn’t snapped and started murdering everyone within reach. That was what the fools in the Council thought would happen, wasn’t it?
One day he’d called to ask Xiù to come to the Council and plead for the humans in person, and Ayma found herself granting the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun some respect (much to her annoyance). It was an offer long overdue, and like any Mother, Ayma put aside her personal dislike for the big herbivore and helped Xiù prepare. She also demanded the right to go along… though she wasn’t inclined toward conspiracies – she’d leave that to the Corti – she didn’t trust leaving her friend purely in Furfeg’s hands.
“Is that the ship?” Xiù breathed, unaware of Ayma’s many worries. Her Gaori had continued to improve, and she was far more intelligible than she’d been even just half a year beforehand. She could still get lost if someone spoke too quickly, and a lot of her word choices were “childish”, which made sense because the majority of her language lessons had come from Myun.
Furfeg had cautioned them not to bother trying to correct that when preparing her for her appearance before the Council. Xiù would speak to them in Gaori; and though everyone would be hearing her through their own respective translators, the devices would hear and interpret the intonation of her words and reflect it in their output… making the human sound very young and innocent, and thus sympathetic.
It was further proof to Ayma that Furfeg was a manipulator, but she couldn’t complain this time since he was using it to Xiù’s benefit.
She bent down to see through the window Xiù was all but glued to. Above them stretched the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun diplomatic starship, Furfeg’s ship. His was a large people, and so they built large vessels – hundreds of times the length of their comfortable shuttle. An immense cylinder in space, the ship was tinted a pleasant light green, its belly bulging as though pregnant with the large transparent greenhouse that supplemented the ship’s food and oxygen stores. The ship drifted out of the window toward the front of their shuttle as their pilot altered course toward it. “That’s the Rich Plains, yes,” Ayma answered.
Xiù softly repeated the words under her breath, practicing the name. She glanced back at the Gaoian. “I never thought I’d go to space,” she said. “On Earth, it is very dangerous. Only the best and bravest go. And here I am, for third time.” She shook her head. “My brother would be much happier.”
“He studies to go to space?”
She shook her head again, laughing quietly. “No, he doesn’t study at all! Very lazy, always wants to play. He would annoy you very much.”
Ayma rocked her head back in forth in a Gaoian shrug. “Well, he is a male, they can’t help it.” Xiù laughed again.
The shuttle looped up and over the Rich Plains, swooping down toward the tail end of the ship, which had clamshelled open, exposing the vast shuttle bay. The inside was well-lit, and they could see many sapients standing inside – most scurrying around offloading provisions, but a small cadre stood in an open area, including what was obviously a Guvnuragnaguvendrugun.
“Do they stand in space?” Xiù asked, appalled.
Ayma chittered lightly. “No… there is a kinetic field, it holds the air inside. In just a moment you will feel it… see?” And they did, a soft tingling across their skin as they crossed into the landing bay, floating slowly toward the glowing landing point indicator.
The shuttle touched down with barely a thump – the pilot was One-Fang clan, and they prided themselves on their skill with ships of all sorts. The side-door to the shuttle opened upward, letting in the air of the starship; not as antiseptic as Ayma had expected, but tinged lightly with the scents of grasses and trees. It was calming – which was probably why the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun did it, she thought cynically.
The three sapients who had been waiting advanced as they climbed out of the shuttle. The huge shaggy creature who could only be Furfeg and the Rrrrtktktkp’ch beside him halted a polite distance away, while the lone Gaoian continued forward.
“Officer Regaari?” Xiù asked, uncertain but hopeful. Her Gaori had lost all accent.
The male ducked his head. “Sister Xiù, thank you for remembering me.” He repeated the gesture again towards Ayma. “Mother Ayma. Welcome aboard.”
Xiù blinked. “Oh, a translator! I’d forgotten about that. Oh, it’s so nice to hear my name properly!”
“The entire ship is equipped with translators, since it serves as a mobile embassy,” Furfeg commented. Once the Gaoian male had made greetings the other two had moved closer. “It nearly tripled the cost of the ship, or so I’m told. Miss Chang, Mother Ayma,” he greeted, nodding his immense head toward each of the females.
He gestured to the Rrrrtktktkp’ch beside him. “This is Captain Yhjjrrtknk A’tkrnnmtktk’ki, the master of the ship.” Xiù’s eyes went wide. Ayma didn’t blame her… even with the help of translators Rrrrtktktkp’ch names were a mouthful. The tall, slender alien bent its long neck toward them. Ayma ducked her head, and Xiù bent her upper body in her peoples’ gesture of respect.
Furfeg looked to the lone human. “The journey will take roughly a ten-day, and we’ll be setting off soon. Is there anything you needed?”
Xiù shrugged. “No… I don’t think so, anyway. All I have is my clothing, and I brought that with me.”
“Well, if you think of anything, let one of the stewards know. I’ve asked them to make the onboard fabricators available for your use, just tell them what you need. For now, Officer Regaari, would you show our guests to their quarters?” At his assent, the captain and diplomat turned to leave the bay.
“I thought you were assigned to the Mother-Supreme?” Ayma asked Regaari.
“I am. But the Mother-Supreme has considerable investment in this, and so she asked me to accompany you, both to represent her and to insure your safety.” Ayma nodded… apparently she wasn’t the only one to worry about the Dominion taking less care than they should of their human guest.
“Xiù?” She knew she wasn’t pronouncing her friend’s name properly, and it was strange to have the translation devices all but pluck the word from her muzzle and correct it. But she liked it… she always felt as though she was slighting the human by calling her “Shoo”, even though it was a limitation of her muzzle and Xiù never complained. Names were important.
The human was looking at the cavernous landing bay, and the unflickering expanse of stars beyond the kinetic field. A few of the stars moved… starships taking off from Gao or coming in to land. Ayma let her have the moment, and Regaari did the same (Handsome, restrained, and sensitive, too? The stars were taunting her…) After a moment Xiù’s long head-fur, held back in its usual braid, rocked back and forth as she shook her head and sighed.
“Your quarters will have windows,” Regaari commented. “You can make them as transparent or as opaque as you prefer. Shall I bring you there?”
The females agreed, reaching into the shuttle for their baggage. Ayma only had one bag, but Xiù had three… Regaari discovered the reason moments later. “Here, Sister Xiù, I can carry one of-oof!” The Gaoian male blinked at the bag which had stubbornly resisted his attempt to lift it.
It would be impolite to chitter, but some of the humour had to show in her voice. “Xiù’s clothes are weighted to compensate for the lighter gravity,” she pointed out.
“One set is fine, but three is heavy even for me,” the human said sheepishly.
Regaari stared at them for a moment. “I’ll… get a hovercart. Just a moment.”
Soon the three were walking through the huge corridors of the ship, sized as they were for Guvnuragnaguvendrugun. There were actually only about a dozen of the creatures onboard, Regaari explained… the majority of the two-hundred crew were Rrrrtktktkp’ch like the captain, or their bluer, dimmer cousins the Vzk’tk. There were a smattering of other species as well, including nearly two dozen Gaoians, operating in security.
Soon the two females were left in their respective neighbouring quarters. Ayma waited for Regaari to leave before looking around in disapproval… like everything else on the ship, it was simply too big. The tables and bed had lowered themselves to a comfortable height for a Gaoian, but the bed was so large it could have held the entire Sisters dorm back at the commune and left room for the Mothers. Gaoian females didn’t like to sleep alone, hadn’t Regaari told them that?
Unless the gesture was meant for Xiù, she supposed – a bit of privacy after so long immersed in an alien culture, an object of curiosity and concern. Ayma wouldn’t complain if Xiù was happy with the arrangement.
She unpacked her lone bag, pulling out her data tablet and recording some holo-messages to send back to the commune, letting them know they’d arrived onboard safely and warning some of the cubs – and Sisters – not to put whipped cream on everything edible. Not long after she sent the messages off the shipboard audio system announced their departure. Through the large crystal window she saw the stars tilt and begin to move, and before too long they stretched as the huge vessel entered warp.
Ayma wondered what Xiù thought of the display… she should ask. In fact, it was nearing the time for the end-of-day meal. Would she be interested in eating together? Standing up, she left her tablet on the table and walked down the corridor to the guest quarters next to hers. She didn’t think twice about simply entering… they were fellow females after all.
“Xiù, would you like to ea-whoa!” Ayma squawked as she stepped into Xiù’s cabin. The gravity was set much higher than Gao standard, and the step through the door was like falling down a stair. She flopped to the ground and wheezed as the breath was driven from her lungs.
Xiù spun from where she sat watching the stars through her window. Her eyes went wide and she jumped to her feet. “Oh! Ayma! Computer, set gravity to Gao normal! I’m so sor-whoop!”
The situation played out in reverse as Xiù tried to dash over to help her friend. Unfortunately she was in mid-step when the gravity field changed, so the perfectly-reasonable strength she used to move forward suddenly became nearly twice what was needed; the human was launched into the air, arms wheeling, and landed with a heavy thud just in front of Ayma.
“Um… ow.” Xiù blinked. “Sorry. The steward said the gravity in here could be set to something more like Earth, so I was trying it out.”
Ayma waved a paw. “I’m unhurt. I should have expected this. I was just coming over to ask if you wanted to share the end-of-day meal together.”
“Um… I’d like that.” The two stared at each other from their respective positions on the floor. “We don’t have to tell Myun about this, do we?” Xiù finally asked.
“I won’t mention it if you don’t.”
“Deal!”
They decided to eat in Ayma’s quarters, settling in around the vast table next to each other after placing their orders with the ship’s galley. They’d briefly pondered eating with the other Gaoians on board, but Ayma didn’t feel like putting up with a bunch of males who would likely trip over themselves trying to impress her, and Xiù simply didn’t want to be stared at.
Xiù left choosing their food to Ayma, who was pleased to see a number of Gaoian dishes available, and some alien meals she was familiar with and liked. Still feeling a bit spiteful, she made a point of ordering the most expensive and elaborate meals, since Furfeg and the Dominion were footing the bill. It didn’t take long at all for a Vzk’tk steward to appear at the door, pushing a small hovercart with a pair of trays and a pair of containers holding water and talamay (which Ayma kept carefully away from the human…). The galley had also been warned of their human guest, judging from the small plate of nutrition spheres that were included.
Soon both females had their trays and drinks, and Ayma sniffed appreciatively at the fried jalmin fish, a delicacy on Gao she’d only ever experienced once. Steamed vegetables occupied the side, and the flatbread was still warm. Her mouth watered in anticipation.
Xiù squinted at Ayma’s platter. “Why does yours look different?”
The Gaoian Mother looked at her friend’s meal – which should have been identical – her ears flicking back with surprise. Then she scowled. “Steward, what in the stars is this?”
He’d been tapping on his portable data tablet, likely marking off their food as delivered. His long, blue-tinted neck turned his head to Ayma at her tone. “Pardon? Is something wrong?”
“This fish is raw! Did the cook forget something? Or do you have a malfunctioning auto-chef?”
“I…” The Vzk’tk fidgeted with the data tablet in his hands. “W-we heard that the human ate her meat raw…”
Ayma’s ears pressed backward. “Where in the galaxy did you hear that?” she asked in an appalled voice.
Xiù rubbed her temples. “Not even on my own planet, and people are still mistaking me for Japanese.”
Ayma didn’t know what Japanese was, but she’d ask later. She glared at the steward… as far as she was concerned, this was merely the latest in a number of slights the humans had to deal with from a galactic society that seemed to want to believe them to be savages. She put the cover back on Xiù’s meal and pushed it back across the table. “Obviously your information is incorrect. Take this back and have the cook prepare it properly.”
The steward bobbed his head, stammering apologies and all but fleeing the guest quarters, pushing the hovercart ahead of him. Ayma growled quietly.
Xiù was looking at her, wide-eyed. “Wow. I don’t even have the nerve to ask for extra sauce at Swiss Chalet.”
“I’ll ask you what that is later. For now, here… we’ll split this plate, and when that dimwit comes back we’ll split that one, too.”
“Okay. Mind if I dip my nutrition spheres in that sauce?”
One day done, one battle fought. To Ayma’s quiet relief Xiù asked to sleep in the room with her… she’d “gotten used” to the dorm at the commune, and the strange quiet of her quarters was jarring. The next morning she raved about the shower, though she was somewhat disgruntled to learn that it had been included for the sake of the Corti.
They settled in for the journey, trying to avoid boredom. Xiù practiced and revised her speech to the Council… Ayma reviewed her lesson plans for the cubs. Regaari would sometimes drop by to check up on them, and afterwards Xiù would always give her a smug, knowing look if Ayma’s eyes lingered a bit too long when the guard left. Oddly, Furfeg made no visits, though perhaps he was busy arranging things in his shipboard office.
It was late in the evening on the third day of their journey. Xiù had taken advantage of Furfeg’s offer and asked the fabricators to make her some more clothing, at Ayma’s encouragement (again, to soak Furfeg and the Dominion as much as possible). A nervous Rauwryhr had taken her specifications and returned with several variations of long, loose clothing of strong and smooth fabric. The cloth shimmered a rich red in the light and had been trimmed with gold threading, and when Ayma asked her about the design she simply explained that it derived from her native culture on her homeworld, a more elaborate version of the clothing associated with gung-fu.
The Rauwryhr seemed surprised by the praise Xiù heaped upon her, as if she’d expected the human to ignore or dismiss her efforts. It was not a reaction that went unnoticed by the Gaoian Mother.
Ayma watched Xiù admire herself in the mirror. The new clothing did look quite fetching, she thought… although a furred species would likely find the weight of cloth on their shoulders maddening. She was happy with her overalls, although she was pondering asking for some more made from the same fabric.
Suddenly, the deck became the ceiling, and both females were launched into the air. Xiù cried out, and Ayma screeched. She could hear the metal bones of the Rich Plains groaning, and through the window the stars spun. She was suddenly very appreciative of the huge bed when it caught her as the gravity fields reversed again. Xiù wasn’t so lucky, crashing against the table which buckled under the human’s weight, sending her sliding off to roll onto the floor.
A low, pulsing tone rang through the ship… the audible alert. The communication panel next to the door had turned mauve, the galactic standard colour of distress.
“Ow… what… what was that?” Xiù asked nervously as she climbed to her feet. “Ayma, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “You?”
“I’m okay. What happened?”
“Possibly just an engine failure,” Ayma replied, “it happens rarely. We’re tumbling… give it a moment, the helm officer will correct-” She lost the ability to speak. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, hadn’t wanted to compare the sudden stop of the Rich Plains to the only other time she’d felt a starship get torn out of warp – when Trig’s mercenaries had hijacked the ill-fated colonial ship Winter Coat. But as the stars slowed in their nausea-inducing spinning out the window and a wide, predatory-looking ship came into view, she found her experience terrifyingly accurate. “Oh no-”
“What? What is it? Who are they?” Xiù asked, and Ayma could hear the fear in her voice.
She looked over at her Sister, her ears folded against her skull. “Hunters.”
+<Pleasure; accomplishment> Alpha, the prey vessel has been caught by the grav-spike! The projection of its trajectory between the fur-face world and the prey-meeting station was accurate!+
The Alpha looked over at the beta as it stood to give its report. In theory it didn’t need to stand; in fact, it could have spoken to the Alpha from anywhere on the ship with but a thought. Still, it was good for its subordinates to clamour for its favour. +<Acknowledgement; approval> Very well. The trap was well-laid. You may have second taste of the hunt.+ The beta broadcast its pleasure wordlessly over the cybernetic network that connected all the hunters on the vessel.
Theirs was a large pack, thirty strong, and the appetite of so many hunters was great… as was their ambition. A large pack meant large prey, and the herbivore vessel they’d caught was large indeed. The Alpha had a particular fondness for the meat of the large, shaggy herbivore prey… there was so much of it, and the creatures were terrified when isolated, which sweetened their meat exquisitely. The Alpha ground its multiple rows of teeth in anticipation, eager for that first bite.
But first… the harvest. +<Excitement; command> Take us in! Prepare to breach! Meat to the maw!+
Regaari was reaching for his pulse rifle almost before the Rich Plains had finished tumbling.
It was possible it was a simple engine failure – one that would be embarrassing for the captain, requiring a day or two of repair before the ship could be underway again. But Regaari was not assigned to the ship to deal with incidents which were merely embarrassing.
He’d been sitting at his desk in his quarters, filling out reports on his tablet, when the gravity went wild. He was lifted out of his seat, his legs bumping against the table and giving him just enough time to grab hold of it, his claws automatically unsheathing to grant him more purchase. Then the ship had leveled out, hurling him down to the deck. He scrambled to his feet, pulling breath in through bruised ribs.
His quarters had no windows, so he grabbed his rifle from the storage rack and stormed out into the corridor. The crew of the ship scrambled around him, roused from what they’d thought would be easy third and fourth shifts. Regaari didn’t know the expressions of aliens well, but he was certain there was more than alarm in the faces of the Vzk’tk and Rrrrtktktkp’ch who dashed past him… there was fear.
Fortunately there was a Gaoian among them… a young One-Fang, possibly the shuttle pilot who had delivered the females. “Brother!” Regaari grabbed hold of the boy before he could dash by. “Brother, what happened?”
The young male ducked his head. “W-we’ve been torn out of warp, Brother!”
He resisted the urge to snap that that was plainly obvious… the youngster looked on the edge as it was. “Torn? Not an engine malfunction? Who attacks us?”
The One-Fang’s ears were flat against his skull. “H-hunters, Brother!”
Regaari felt his heart go cold, then clenched his teeth, discarding the reaction as useless. “Go to the Armory. Fetch yourself a weapon and as many of the portable kinetic barriers as you can carry. Bring as many of the Brothers as you come across, and meet me at the landing bay.”
“The bay?” The young male blinked. “Are we evacuating?”
The set of Regaari’s muzzle was grim. “No. That’s the most likely place the Hunters will breach the hull. Bring our Brothers, and be ready to fight.”
“Hunters? That’s a Hunter ship?” Xiù asked, her voice timid. They’d watched as the big Hunter vessel – not a swarm ship, but larger than a standard pack-ship – thrusted toward the disabled diplomatic ship. The Hunter ship was wide and flat, with thrusters on the back and a breaching tube mounted on the front like a grotesque proboscis. When the big Guvnuragnaguvendrugun ship had shaken, Ayma had known that that tube was now piercing the hull, and Hunters were invading.
“Ayma? What do we do?” Xiù demanded.
The Gaoian Mother looked at her friend, more frightened than when the Winter Coat had been hijacked and the mercenaries had begun murdering the crew. “T-there’s nothing we can do… the security forces will fight them. We just need to wait-” She didn’t want to think about how even a normal pack-ship was more than a match for the Rich Plains’ sparse crew.
Her doubts must have shown, because Xiù looked down at her hands, which had clenched into fists. She glanced back up at the other female. “I have to help.”
Ayma’s muzzle dropped open. “Xiù, no… you did well against Locayl and Mjrnhrm, but these are Hunters… every race is terrified of them, for good reason!”
“Then that means they’ll need my help even more! Ayma, I-” She blinked, struggling for words. “I’ll be back. Okay? Stay safe.”
“Xiù!” Ayma grabbed at her arm, but she might as well have been trying to hold back a starship. Xiù dashed out into the corridor; her braid snapped back and forth as her head turned to note which direction almost all the crew were running… and then she ran in the opposite.
Regaari had called the Hunter breach location perfectly… the Hunter ship had pierced the Rich Plains in the landing bay. The large armoured proboscis on the front of the ship had stabbed through the ship’s hull, rocking the entire vessel and knocking the defenders from their feet. Then the front of the tube had opened, and Hunters had confidently strode out, the pulse guns bonded to their arms already spitting death across the landing bay.
As soon as the hull had been breached the defenders had thrown down their portable kinetic barriers. Essentially a baton half a Gaoian’s height, the device would hover at chest level and project a barrier down to the floor. They were a Gaoian innovation, he was proud to say… far stronger than a harness, the barrier could take numerous hits from anti-personnel weapons, and even stand up to anti-vehicle weapons for several shots. The barriers formed a bulwark around the Hunter entry point, and the Rich Plains’ security forces huddled behind them, shooting when and what they could.
Unfortunately the Hunters were savage but not stupid, and they would cover each other whenever one lost its shield. Combined with the Dominion tendency to scatter their shots, the defending forces had only managed to kill a single Hunter. Meanwhile Regaari had already seen five of the security forces die, including two Brothers. More Hunters were advancing from the breach, and while the barriers were strong, they would eventually deplete.
It was not the Gaoian way to lie down in defeat… and this was particularly true when fighting Hunters. But it was looking like going down fighting was the best option available to all of them.
“Regaari!” a voice called across the landing bay.
He looked up, shocked, as Sister Xiù dashed across the landing bay. She moved at an incredible pace, and she had enough sense to keep to cover behind the parked shuttles where she could, but the landing bay was vast, and there were huge swaths of open space. Her shout had drawn the Hunters’ attention, and kinetic blasts rained around her. Most had no hope of hitting her… but luck always played a factor, and a single shot struck her in her upper torso. The human was knocked sideways, but didn’t slow; she barreled toward Regaari, diving into a roll as she neared.
She barely avoided him as she slid out, and he heard the barrier strain as she bumped against it. She blinked at him. “Are you okay?”
“What in the stars are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I’m here to help!”
“Help? Help? This is a firefight! How can you help? You don’t even have a weapon!”
“I am a weapon, if the Dominion is right! Let me help!”
She poked her head over the barrier to look. He spit and seized her arm. “Stay down! They’ll take your head off!”
“I can take a hit, you just saw that!”
“Oh, really? How many hits can you take? How many to your head, or your eyes?” Her skin turned pink, which was odd, but he assumed that was how humans showed embarrassment.
“How many are there?” she asked nervously.
“On a Hunter ship that size? Twenty… maybe thirty.”
“Can you fight that many?”
Regaari turned to her, and his jaw was clenched. “Sister Xiù, we could not fight even ten.” He glanced down, ashamed. “I’m sorry. We will make them work, but the outcome is certain.”
The two hunched as kinetic pulses hammered their weakening shield. Regaari pulled out a nervejam grenade, thumbing the activation stud. Two countdown lights turned green, then he hurled the device up and over the shield. He didn’t see the final light turn red to indicate activation, but he heard the shriek of the Hunters as it fired its neural-disruptive pulse among them. He voiced a soft chitter of satisfaction as he heard at least one of them slump over. The sound encouraged the other defenders, who popped up over their own respective shields and laid down a sheet of kinetic pulses. He nodded in approval: Make them work indeed!
He turned to Xiù, who was clutching her head. “Sister Xiù?”
“That hurt, whatever it was.” She rubbed at her head.
“Nervejam grenade. Basically a neural disruptor.” He winced. “We were told that humans were highly susceptible to such attacks. It appears to be true.”
She stared at him despite the noise of battle around them. “Why would you be told that?” She shook her head. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”
Regaari stood to lay down some fire. He was a reasonably good shot, but the Hunters weren’t stupid – he’d hit one and knock down its shields, but another would step in and shield its broodmate, returning fire and forcing him to duck. Xiù stared at nothing as he did – her skin was pale, but he didn’t know what that meant with her species. His military instructors often cautioned against assuming you knew what an alien was thinking – they were, by definition, alien – so he didn’t bother to guess what was going through her mind.
The worth of that advice was proven a moment later, as he couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth: “I’ll distract them.”
“What?”
“I’ll distract them! Get ready!”
“Sister, wait!” He grabbed her arm as she stood, and got his first taste of just how strong she was as he was nearly lifted from the ground. “Xiù, wait!”
Thankfully she hesitated from where she was about to leap the shield barrier. “I can do this! I can make some ruckus, make them turn their backs to you!”
“Are you mad? Are you suggesting I sit here and let a female dash into harm’s way? It isn’t done!”
Her face flushed pink. “Since when are you chauvinist? I’m not even Gaoian!”
He tightened his grip, but he doubted she even felt it. “You are a Sister of the Clan of Females, and it is my duty as both a Brother and as your guardian assigned by the Mother-Supreme to shield you!”
“Your life is not worth less than mine! If you die, they’ll get me anyway!” She paused, and her voice shook as the continued. “I don’t want to do this, but you need me to do this. Just… y’know, make the best of it.”
He tried to come up with a coherent argument, but his paws were empty. She was right… anything she could offer could save all their lives, and if even half the rumours of her abilities were true- “Fine. You have every right to fight for yourself. But take these.” He pulled the bandolier of grenades off and handed them to her. “Just press this button here to activate them. You’ll have about four breaths before it activates, so make sure it’s far from you when it does.” She timidly took hold of the bandolier. He held on to them until she met his gaze. “Remember: they’ll hurt you from further away than they will the Hunters. Get away when you use them. Mother Ayma wouldn’t forgive me if you were hurt.”
She barked her little human laugh, though it was weak. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” He gave her a puzzled gaze as she slung the bandolier over her shoulder. “Give me some covering fire?”
He nodded, standing, his pulse rifle at the ready, flinging white bolts across the bay. Two more Hunters had emerged to replace the one he’d managed to kill, and almost before his third shot they were turning their cybernetic pulse rifles at him. He was saved by Xiù flinging herself over the barrier, jumping so far and high she seemed to fly. When she landed she rolled, coming up into a run, straight at the Hunters.
The fearsome aliens paused, as astonished as everyone else in the bay… nobody charged a Hunter pack! Their weapons were soon turning toward her until Regaari forced them to split their attention, opening fire with his own weapon. He managed to land a pair of pulses on one Hunter, knocking down its shield and crushing its shoulder. It hissed and returned fire with its remaining arm, and as he ducked he felt the kinetic pulse pass close enough to pull at his fur.
The other defenders had stopped firing – which was probably for the best, Regaari thought, because Xiù was already in among the Hunters. A pulse blast narrowly missed her, and she jumped at the one who’d fired the shot. Both her feet crashed against its torso, and even a Hunter shield couldn’t take such an impact. It shattered with the sound of snapping electricity and the big alien, half-again as tall as she was, was sent flying into its partner behind it. Judging from the distorted shape of its torso, it wouldn’t be getting back up.
Xiù fell straight down onto her back, then flipped back up onto her feet in a single move no other species could emulate. A Hunter aimed at her and she dodged aside, not leaping but surging along the ground as if sliding along a rail; her arm hooked the dreaded alien’s own and pulled it aside, and the Hunter found itself firing several pulses into a broodmate trying to attack from the human’s other side. Even the six-legged creature couldn’t resist stumbling as the human tugged on the captured arm, her other hand sweeping upward to chop the Hunter’s throat. The terror of sentient beings across the galaxy everywhere collapsed, gurgling for breath that wouldn’t come.
Ten seconds, three Hunters dead. But more were emerging from the boarding tube, and whatever communications method the seven-eyed monsters used, they were aware of her presence. They exited firing, their heavy pulse rifles pounding and crushing the bodies of their dead broodmates as Xiù ducked behind the bodies, the pulse fire passing over her head or splashing against her fleshy shelter.
Regaari realized he’d been standing dumbfounded, and he was damned lucky the Hunters were more interested in the human… he’d offered them plenty of opportunity to take his head off!
At least he wasn’t the only one, and he covered his embarrassment by snarling at the others, “Don’t just stand there, shoot at them!” He lifted his rifle and peppered the Hunters with fire. The other defenders did the same, raining pulse blasts down on the Hunters from all directions. The attacking aliens collapsed their formation, drawing together to to overlap their kinetic shields.
Xiù dashed out of her cover, heedless of the shooting from in front and behind her. One of the Hunters aimed its arms at her, but she didn’t slow as she ran right at it. When the Hunter fired she fell to her knees, sliding easily on the smooth fabric of her Gaoian-made overalls, letting the twin bolts of energy pass a bare armlength over her head. She bent backwards far enough that her long head-fur trailed on the floor behind her, sliding completely underneath and between the legs of the Hunter. When she emerged from the other side she sprung immediately to her feet, dashing between two more Hunters. Then she disappeared into the depths of the place no rational sapient being wanted to go: a Hunter assault ship.
The three Hunters and the two just emerging turned to follow her, dismissing the other defenders as insignificant. It was then that the nervejam grenade Xiù had left behind in the middle of the group went off. Only one Hunter was killed outright, but the others lost control of their bodies long enough for the bolstered defenders to bring them down, one by one.
For a brief moment the bay was quiet. The Vzk’tk slumped with relief, and even a few of his Gaoian brothers lowered their weapons. “Keep your weapons up!” he snapped, and was pleased to see them jump. He pointed at two of the Vzk’tk – the most useless members of the group as far as he was concerned, but he’d be accused of speciesism if he asked to trade them for more Gaoians. “You and you, get the wounded to the medical bay. Do it now, we don’t know how much time she’ll have bought us.”
Xiù ran through the tall, wide corridors of the Hunter ship, trying not to think about how utterly terrified she was, or how she really didn’t have a plan beyond “get inside, make a mess”.
The ship wasn’t as big as Furfeg’s, but every ship was huge from her perspective, and the corridors seemed to stretch on forever. Unlike the diplomatic ship, which was well-lit and coloured with pleasant whites and blues and polished metal, the Hunter ship was utterly alien, with softer light, darker colours, and the air was humid like a jungle.
She’d met two pairs of Hunters once she’d gotten inside and managed to kill them. She didn’t have to think about using lethal force this time… these aliens ate people. They grabbed ships out of space, murdered the people inside, and ate them. Every human notion of good and bad she’d had, all the silly, shallow ideas of what was important… thrown away. She knew what evil was now, and everything else was just trite.
She rounded a corner and nearly collided face-to-chest with a Hunter. There were three this time, and they reacted swiftly to her appearance. The one in front of her was too close to shoot at her, so it swung its arm, trying to hit her with the gun that seemed to grow out of its flesh. She blocked the blow, guiding it up and over her head, her other hand slamming into the creature’s torso. The shield collapsed under the first blow, and she hit it again with the back of her forearm, crushing the flesh underneath. The aliens had thick skin, like moist, white leather, and it was as disgusting to touch as it was to look at, but whatever was inside would crack and crumble.
The Hunters made no sound as they broke and died… and somehow that was almost worse than cries of pain.
They were communicating somehow, though… and learning. She spun, her foot lashing out to crush the foreleg joint of the Hunter nearest to her – but even as she did the third shot her, hitting her in the thigh and lower back. If ordinary pulse guns felt like a hard punch, then the ones the Hunters carried felt like being kicked; she cried out and fell along with the alien she’d hit, more pulses passing over her head. She rolled behind the fallen Hunter, using it as a shield. It wasn’t dead, and thrust an arm at her, but she smacked it aside with her foot, scooting toward it even as she coiled her legs. She thrust out like a piledriver into the Hunter’s chest, the alien lifted clear from the ground and thrown into its remaining partner.
She scrambled to her feet before the remaining alien could dig out from under the body of its broodmate, slamming a straight beng quan punch in the center of its seven eyes. The alien collapsed, a noticeable dent in the center of its face.
Xiù panted, wincing as her hand braced against the sore spot on her back; her thigh felt like it was cramping. She wasn’t given any time to rest, however – she could hear the heavy footsteps of yet more Hunters approaching. She turned and ducked through a nearby door that slid open at her approach, dashing inside the room in the hopes they’d pass her by.
It was a cold room, and she swallowed a shriek as she saw the contents: pieces of meat. She was in the Hunter pantry, she realized, and quietly sobbed as she recognized what was left of a Gaoian hanging from hooks on the wall. And that wasn’t the only horror: she saw blue-giraffe aliens, and a huge piece of an alien that looked like Furfeg, and yet more of no species she could identify. She smelled frost and other, worse things, and she covered her mouth because she didn’t trust herself not to cry out or vomit. Tears ran down her cheeks and across her fingers.
Evil. The Hunters were evil, and every one she killed made the universe a bit better. She closed her eyes and swallowed against the lump in her throat.
On the other side of the door the footsteps came to a stop… obviously the Hunters were examining their own dead. Her heart raced, and she almost expected the aliens to find her from the sound of it! Thankfully the door remained closed, the Hunters either not thinking she’d hide, or thinking she wouldn’t hide amongst the dead of species she called friend. They did not speak, making no sounds that could have been language or otherwise, and she wondered if they were telepathic or something.
After a few moments the footsteps faded away, following her path backwards, and Xiù mentally apologized to Regaari and the others. The pain in her leg was only just fading, and she was sure she would have a massive bruise on her back for the next few days… assuming she survived.
When she was sure she could walk without limping she poked her head timidly out the door. No living Hunters waited… only the three dead ones. The aliens hadn’t posted a guard or even moved the dead ones. Did they care so little about their own? Or maybe the Hunters were just busy… busy hunting.
Hunting her. What was she going to do? Think, Xiù!
How did she get into this situation? She was an actress… a student actress! Her dreams of being a action-girl film star seemed so far away and utterly stupid… she was being forced to live the reality, and suddenly Wei’s video games seemed so much more practical than being able to quote Shakespeare. She might be stronger and faster, but there was only one of her, and they had the guns.
For a panicked, giddy moment she wondered if she should go with her strengths… maybe she could put on a play for the Hunters! Romeo and Juliet, maybe, and get Regaari and Ayma to help. The Hunters probably preferred Hannibal, though-
Xiù stopped the silly thoughts in their tracks, although it did help her calm down. She shifted… the air was so humid her shirt and overalls were sticking to her. The Hunters seemed to like so much moisture in their air that it fell from the vents in wispy clouds-
Xiù blinked. Then she looked up at the vent near the ceiling. The grate covering it nearly was twice the width of her own (admittedly slender) body, with metal holes she could stick her fingers through. It was secured with a dozen small bolts, and she wondered how well they’d hold on if she pulled.
Maybe the movies weren’t useless to her. She was the alien here. The “xenomorph”. No guns but plenty of physical advantages. “They’re coming outta the walls. They’re coming outta the goddamn walls. Let’s book!” …Everybody liked Hudson, and Xiù found herself liking him a little bit more. She wondered if the Hunters had a loudmouthed clown in their group; if she found him, she’d let him live.
Until then… In the lighter gravity, she sprang up to the vent, her fingers grasping the grate and pulling. The metal pressed against her fingers but didn’t cut her as she pulled, and with a shriek of tortured metal the cover pulled loose, dropping her back down into a soft landing. She jumped back up and pulled herself in, carrying the grated cover inside and hiding it.
It was time to do things the Alien way.