Claye

Claye Eligah was a retired general of the colonial defense force, and for a good reason, he was about 160 give or take a few months.

When he was young he stood at about 5 feet and 8.5 inches, now that half was long gone to age.

His once robust and sturdy frame now carried the marks of a long and storied military career along with the marks of time.

Deep lines etched his weathered face, and his salt-and-pepper hair, thinning on top, was cropped short and neatly groomed as he was still in service.

A short, well-kept white beard covered the lower part of his face to perfection.

In his retirement, he relied on a cane to help his now unsteady gait, and that same cane lay on the faded and old desk of the apartment he was in.

He was in one of the few tall buildings that still rose within City 29 colossal metallic battered walls, on the 89 floor.

He couldn’t really afford such a location, but it wasn’t like Dexton could evict him from his HQ, and he sure had tried several times.

He was in the living room, that though still furnished with remnants of its former luxury, shows signs of age.

The once-plush contemporary furniture now bore faded upholstery and worn-out cushions.

The entertainment system, while still functional, displayed flickering holographic images and emitted occasional crackling sounds.

The smart-tint technology in the windows was malfunctioning, resulting in erratic opacity adjustments that allowed one to see the sprawling shanty town below, the distant and all-encompassing windowed walls of the Arcology, and if one looked above at the right time, even the distant and damaged ceiling of City 29.

General Claye’s icy blue iris piercing gaze reflected the sharpness of his mind and unwavering determination as he looked to the digital representation of Chief Petty Officer Thorne flickering on the projector.

-Uncle Sam!?-

The general's hands, once calloused from years of physically demanding activities during his rise through the ranks, now bearing the subtle remnants of his earlier endeavors with bent fingers and odd-looking marks went to his temple.

Veins and slightly twisted bones stood out against weathered and wrinkled skin, a testament to the years of wear and tear he had subjected his body to.

-Yes sir, that’s what that thing relayed. Along with saying that we didn’t need to cross the T. I wonder why it didn’t also say we didn’t need to dot the I sir.-

Replied the projection through the cracklings of the device, making him grimace a bit, he scratched his balding head.

While physically weakened by age, General Claye's mind remained as sharp as ever.

His memory retained a wealth of tactical knowledge and battlefield experiences along with an extended general knowledge of history.

His first step to plan was to gather all possible information, and then move accordingly.

-Well of course he didn’t. That’s a tactical maneuver, that brings the bow of your vessel to the side of your enemy. You use that when you have a really powerful unguided main gun mounted forward or an unguided beam weapon.-

Claye scratched his short beard for a moment to give himself a pause to recollect his thoughts, when he was catching his breath.

-Our battleships mounted something like that during the first contact war according to history books. Seeing one of those nowadays is like seeing a relic of the past. -

Thorne’s holographic form nodded -So whoever is behind this mess knows a bit of space fighting tactics. He or she is still completely insane.-

Claye looked at his former soldier and sighed -I don’t think we’re here to guess a gender, are we, Chief Petty Officer?-

-No sir, we’re not. I am sorry sir. - Replied Thorne almost unconsciously standing at attention. - If the scans are correct we’re in neck deep, sir-

Claye sighed, deeply this time. -Well yeah, if your scans are correct those things in the shop might as well have been nanites taking the shape of people.-

Thorne nodded gravely as he appeared conflicted -I know the suits we brought planet-side are first gen old models, so the scans aren’t the most accurate they could be, but they signaled a biological base to the stuff.-

Claye sighed, there were heaps of risks using nanites, especially in huge quantities, a relatively recent event had driven the point home.

A small research station built on an asteroid belonging to the Ceti Trade Pact Institute had been devoured by nanites about a decade ago or so.

Of course, the Galactic Community had protected the institute from scrutiny way back then, but intel said it was very likely they were trying to replicate human tech for their purposes.

It wasn’t a good thing at all, it meant things were stirring way more than they should have, he sighed acknowledging the report.

-For now, stand by, keep this shop under watch, and prepare to face those if we need to.- He said before closing the call.

And now he had to see a face he didn’t in a long time, someone who had way more tech knowledge than him.

The grumpy artificial assistant of the room signaled that the channel was clear and that he could speak freely.

-Hello starlet. I know it’s been a while...- He began fully hoping to sweeten a little the person he was gonna ask a favor from.

????

To say she was in trouble was an understatement.

For a long time, the plunder was plentiful and the wine flowed freely; City 29 was a haven for those with the strength to dominate, and she possessed it.

She was an alpha, that was Dexton’s way to refer to those in the position of leadership when he didn’t call them the top dogs.

Outside the apparent obsession with the animal known as a dog from the world known as Earth, Dexton probably suffered, she never got the difference between the two references.

All she wanted was power, and to have fun.

She didn’t care for the supposed Abyss of Solitary Remembrance that awaited her people if they committed supposed sins.

She was powerful, she was mighty and that might made her right.

She rubbed her hand and three fingers on her oblong smooth head, closing two of her four eyes, she rubbed her slender form on the soft bed.

Her iridescent skin was still perfect and soft, but she could tell from the light sheets she was the dark blue color of frustration currently.

When did all her headaches begin?

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

When she left her military symbiosis to become a pirate?

No of course not!

She was the strongest, the most archiving, but she was hardly recognized as herself there!

When she let her underlings a bit more leeway than Dexton told her to?

Certainly no, that human was a control freak in her mind!

Short of requiring her to undergo a mindweaving periodically he wanted to know how she trained her troops. How she led.

She led with strength, she led with pride and she let those beneath her handle the tedious bureaucracy.

Claye Eligah was a problem way before she joined the dogs herself, and had not moved particularly.

Yes, she tried to evict the guy a couple of times, but since he liked the pebbles down the road so much he could as well free the building he was in and live among them.

Dexton didn’t mind, nor he minded the losses in terms of man and equipment.

Why was it that now a squad disappearing down under was so important as to demand a formal explanation?

She could understand that it was the food they were supposed to bring topside so it was of some importance, but there was Claye the fucking saint to mind for the pebbles down below.

And even if they went and actually ate each other while alive why would she have to care?

The strongest would then prevail over the masses, and all would be better!

Besides, all there was to do was to raid a few vessels and take loot and slaves and the numbers would stay stable enough.

Besides she had another issue way more pressing, and that was that fucking Myar knight!

That pesky knight was targeting the highly profitable business of the slavers present on Taboo and those were the highest-paying customers!

Of course, it wasn’t her fault that that damn armored menace donned some of the best gears in the galaxy!

Worst of all there was no corrupting the guy, he was out on a mission for his frigging god or whatever made his head tick.

She didn’t have enough people to assign to heavy-duty protection and chase the knight around the endless corridors and passages of the ruined arcology at the same time!

Why couldn't that pesky knight stand his ground and be pummeled to oblivion like the do-gooder it was?!

She looked at herself, now she was a dark purple, enraged and frustrated.

She sighed, why she couldn’t be her usual bright blue of happiness like before?

The communication device of her room buzzed for her attention, becoming the focus of her anger and frustration.

She would have liked to break the damn device, but she really couldn’t have it repaired another time so she had to respond.

She recomposed herself wearing her dark clothes and visual disturbance device to hide her shape from the communicator and answered.

-This has better be important.-

The hideous bulky form of a Zekarn appeared on the holographic device, and his voice stammered a bit as he spoke.

-Yeah… alpha...boss… sorry to interrupt it’s the meat shop of Vexx.-

She frowned, not like the Zekarn could tell, what was about that meat shop?

-What about it?- She asked barely hiding her spite for the hideous reptile.

-It’s back in business.-

Was it ever out of business? She asked herself, not like she cared about the answer.

-And? I mean it doesn’t seem a thing to call me over.-

She couldn’t read the Zekarn’s expression but the integrated translator suggested fear, reverence, and hope.

Why hope? Did he think he wouldn’t be blasted to smithereens just because she wasn’t right in front of him now?

-Well a-boss- he began fidgeting – it seems they brought back actual meat from the tunnels.-

Luckily she was properly dressed and hidden so the electric blue color of surprise on her skin couldn’t be seen.

-Oh really!? That’s fantastic news! Bring me some!-

Well, at least she could have a bit of a feast and forget her problems for a while.

Rixxen

The commander closed the comm making him grumble a bit.

Wasn’t she the one that wanted the report on the missing expedition in the underbelly of the city?

She wasn’t a bad commander, quite the contrary, she reveled in violence and bloodshed and on the field was one of the most bloodthirsty being he knew of.

Short of reminding her that people were of more worth alive than dead she would butcher everything.

Was that the reason Dexton had put her in command in the most troublesome place he could?

He didn’t know, nor cared, might made people right after all; best of all he could enjoy the great hunt even in this life.

All thanks to this commander, she wasn’t as strict as the others under Dexton and let her crew be as long as they still responded to orders when given.

If he could he’d get himself assigned to hunt in the depths of Taboo or to hunt ships in space, he cared little as long he could get to hunt.

He felt the great hunter was growing impatient with him, for his talents were rusting in that stale town of laws and words.

Maybe the code bound could entertain him with the tales of their hunt in the depths and point him where he could find worthy prey.

The arcology that was City 29 was a very tall building with a relatively wide base, so within the confines of the metal walls, there was room for about ten buildings or so.

There was also room within the walls, the Vexx shop for example was located within one of the metallic walls of City 29.

In the middle of the arcology were two mirroring tall buildings, one was the HQ of Claye’s people and the other was the kennel, his HQ.

After the pleasantries with the commander and offering her the meat he went down to the quarters of the crew looking for the code bounds.

Weird, they didn’t come back.

Rixxen was sure Vexx didn’t have the money to keep the code bounds, it was a vicious circle after all.

Vexx would buy dead slaves, would go down the underbelly, and return with that fake black thing.

Vexx then would sell the black thing to get enough money to repeat the cycle.

Some enjoyed eating cadavers recycled, but Rixxen wasn’t among them.

Maybe this time he would go to Vexx's shop and pay properly?

Still, Rixxen felt frustrated to not be able to hunt the beast himself.

Still, it was weird, the code bound were rule freaks, and Rixxen hated them for that, but still, it meant that their failure to try and get back their leashes was uncanny at best.

Maybe the great hunter could indulge him in an actual hunt even if he didn’t finish his prey off. Maybe.

He took his crew along and started hunting for the code bounds, he went back to Vexx's shop, but there were only slaves now working in the shop.

Well, well it wasn’t an easy hunt, but that was a good start!

Next, he went around the streets of City 29 looking for them and asking around.

Finally, he found someone he could convince to speak, and he was surprised to learn they went down in the underbelly.

What in the depths of the great hunt?

Then it dawned on him. They went back to hunt!

Those bastards found an actual easy spot to hunt!

He snarled, furious that the code bounds would not share!

That was why artificially evolved species were a bane!

They would not understand culture, they would not understand bonds that have to occur for species to function properly!

He got the unfortunate fella to fess up what tunnel they went down and then he took his crew down the plate, in the underbelly of the artificial planet.

Finally, on the hunt proper!

Ethan

I am back at Xalrak’s cell, and I am surprised to see the alien doesn’t even seem fazed by the long fasting I subjected it to.

I ping Virgil to share the relevant data about the specie.

“The Li'thirwisz are medium-sized aliens with a thin and tall build.

They possess two legs and two arms, with six-fingered hands. Their bodies emit a bio-luminescent glow, illuminating their surroundings.

One remarkable trait is their enhanced regeneration ability, capable of restoring whole limbs and healing wounds that would be fatal to other species.

Li'thirwisz were evolved from mollusks native to an ice planet. Each individual is hence both female and male at the same time.

They have been adapted to breathe above water and can survive in highly irradiated environments.

They possess a unique ability that allows them to consume radiation, which sustains them, making them dependent only on water for sustenance.

Warning! Prolonged exposure to radiation leads this specie to excessive weight gain, giving them accelerated issues related to obesity.

Please note that they retain their natural-born ability to breathe underwater and work better in slightly colder climates.”

I frown, virtually, so basically I can’t starve him. Well, shit?

Wait a sec Virgil did you say were evolved? Were adapted? What do you mean?

“That is correct. This is an uplifted specie. Unlike naturally evolved species like yours that naturally gained sentience this one was engineered to sentience by another advanced specie.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck!? That means Lemela’s ancestor was a common household cat once!?

“Your confusion is understandable. But your assumption is incorrect. The Versels are a naturally evolved specie that doesn’t share any actual characteristics with a feline that evolved on Earth. They have longer lifespans and longer limbs and they…”

Yeah, I don’t think I need another biology lesson now Virgil thank you.

I concentrate on my “friend” here that looks at me defiantly.

-Well turns out I can’t starve you. Care to explain why your friend was enjoying that black stuff or is it against your code?-

Xalrak scoffs a little -You documented yourself a little it seems Ethan. Well, that’s simple actually, while we can survive on radiation we can eat and enjoy normal food. So now what will it be? Will you take away water from me?-

I shake my head in denial -Nah. Believe it or not, I don’t need to torture you any longer. Got almost all the information I need.-

Xalrak remains stoic in front of me, eyelids partly covering the dark abyss of Xalrak’s eyes giving the alien a doubting look – I suppose you’re not here to tell me I’m free.-

I shake my head -Nope you will be my guest ‘till I solve the issue about your group. I can offer you meat. Actual meat.-

Xalrak’s eyes widen fully now making the alien look surprised.

Then Xalrak returns seriously. -I suppose you are implying a trade. I will not betray Dexton for food I can live without.-

I shrug visibly, this takes a bit of effort to do but I’ve practiced.

-Who talked about Dexton? Why don’t you talk to me about the code you follow? I want to learn.-

Let’s see if I can bounce info on Xalrak to receive confirmation or denials at least.