“Hell no! Aliens go! Hell no! Aliens go!” Voices repeat the chant angrily, echoing up the hall leading to the main hangar as the shuttle is touching down. Marines are gathered in a protest circle at the entrance, keeping the protest from spilling into the hangar.
This isn’t the first such demonstration, and it’s unlikely to be the last. But, the size has grown considerably. Almost four hundred people are crowded into the hallway. And, though the marines are able to hold them back by presence for now, the last few decades on Earth showed just how gullible, self-centered, and hateful protestors can be when led by hateful, violent upstarts.
Chief Grey holds his trusty shotgun with what few non-lethal beanbag rounds he could find loaded inside. He knows most of the marines are carrying lethal ammunition simply because they aren’t prepared for domestic riot control. And, come what may, no marine is simply going to watch as fellow marines are beaten to death by closed-minded, ignorant protestors.
Grey listens as Tachibana tries talking over protestors, along with several other chiefs and officers. They’re trying to reason with a mob; a mob fueled by inactivity, twisted half-truths, and simple mob-mentality. The chants just get yelled louder as the marine leaders talk.
“No one is getting ejected! No one!” Tachibana’s voice is starting to break, slipping into hoarseness. This particular protest is over six hours now, having started in the civilian quarters of the ship and slowly marched to the hangar bay.
“You’re useless!” “Yeah!” “Navy pigs!” “Monster lovers!” As the repetitive chant continues, many of the protestors hurl insults at the marines. Nothing about it all is particularly surprising. The ships are powder kegs, with everyone locked in together for months now.
Some of the frustrated marines grumble to each other, mocking the protestors, “We’re useless?” “Right? They’re ones to talk.”
A marine next to Grey says dryly, “Weren’t most of the civilians that made it onboard liberals?” Another replies, “Yeah.” The first adds as if realizing something, “Oh, right. I forgot. They only preach unity when they’re getting what they want. Any other time, it’s hate and division.” “Yep.”
Grey rolls his eyes. He can’t honestly say he disagrees with the two marines, but it’s not the time for it. A seven foot tall alien is about to exit out into the open and there are hundreds of protestors waiting. If they rush the hangar, it only takes one of them getting hold of a gun to endanger their most experienced pilot, whether any human wants to admit it or not. Additionally, if they instead go after the prisoners or…
Grey glances around. There are only three routes in and out of the hangar, excluding the hangar bay doors to space. Two of them, only a few yards apart, are packed full of protestors. The third door is an escape scuttle, and it isn’t very easy to navigate.
Grey himself is guilty of overlooking something highly important, just as many of the navy personnel seemed to have. Khla, of course, is not the only alien on the ship. Though the navy has tried to keep her existence and even moreso, her eggs, as quiet as possible, military people talk. They tell family members. Family tells friends. And, before anyone knows it, the wrong people have the information.
The protest grows to a discombobulating uproar of taunts, insults, and other hateful speech, startling Grey. Marines shield themselves as objects are lobbed into their ranks by protestors. He glances towards the shuttle. Kane is standing protectively in defense of Khla, as she looks around with jaded eyes. It doesn’t matter that she just helped rescue a bunch of civilian miners. The protestors have been riled up with hate.
The marines keep shouting, “This is a restricted area! Get back!” But their orders are doing no good. No one wants to be the first to fire, but chaos is quickly taking over.
Grey shoves through the marines, grabbing Fisher’s shoulder, he hands Fisher his shotgun, nearly shouting directly into Fisher’s ear, “You know what to do! I’m going to the Queen!”
Fisher turns just as pale as Grey did a moment ago when he realizes the same thing. Fisher shouts to Mina and Pratt right in front of him, “Mina! Pratt! Go with Chief Grey! Now!”
The two whirl. They glance at Fisher and Grey in surprise, but follow without significant hesitation. The three jog to the maintenance scuttle. They need to get around the protestors.
A shotgun blast thunders into the air, momentarily silencing the hangar. Grey waves Mina and Pratt through the scuttle, glancing at Fisher. Fisher booms, “YOU WANT HER!? COME AND GET HER!” Fisher deliberately racks the shotgun pump slide as dramatically as he can. He adds, “CRAW IS PART OF THE CREW! YOU THREATEN HER, YOU’RE NOT!”
The chaos returns, though many of the protestors scatter with wails of terror. Grey follows Mina and Pratt into the maintenance corridor and closes the door.
Mina asks when it’s quiet, “Chief? What’s going on?”
Grey squeezes across them to lead, replying, “There isn’t normally this many protestors. And, we don’t normally have to put much security on the prisoners or…”
“The Cave Queen…” murmurs Mina. Grey nods.
Grey adds, “We assume civilians are sheep, but there are always shepherds.”
Mina frantically urges, “We have to hurry!”
Grey nods, “I know.”
***
Spaceman Long giggles as the Queen’s grip gently squirms across different parts of her, including one tentacle on her arm, another around her back, and the one on her head. The squid-like alien chirps and clicks her teeth giddily as she watches the treasure in Jessica’s arms.
Inside the protective hip case, squirming seemingly playfully against the membrane of her egg and the membrane of the case, is the tiny, fragile-seeming alien infant. The small creature is about the size of a child’s hand, squirming inside as if trying to escape.
Long gently tickles the case, which prods back at the tiny little alien girl to be. This causes the embryo to squirm even more, and the Queen makes astoundingly giddy chirps and squeaks reminiscent of an extremely happy mouse.
The tiny creature’s face is mostly developed. And, in the dim glow of her egg, her own expression appears to be just as giddy and excited as the Queen. Long teases playfully, “Nowhere to go now, cutie! Heeheehee!”
The Queen chatters warmly, gently prodding the case with her own tentacle. Once more, Jessica isn’t particularly convinced that the Cave Queen’s species is entirely anti-social. They can clearly survive alone for long periods of time out of necessity, but if afforded the opportunity, they are almost cartoonishly affectionate.
The young woman’s own voice says tenderly, “It has been so long… I do not know what you have done, but I truly treasure you, Jessica Long. Our future… so tiny… so perfect…”
Long smiles and hums warmly. “I don’t know either…. I just… Keep her with me… I sing to her… I talk to her… I dunno. It surprises me, too. Um…” Long hesitates quietly, asking softly, “Does… It bother you? Um… Th-The others…”
The Queen’s grip loosens a little. But, she replies through Jessica, “A part of me wishes every egg I’ve ever laid would hatch. But, that was never the case, even with a planet of willing hosts… After long enough, though, we learn to… detach. And, now… I know expecting them all to hatch is impractical.” She gingerly strokes the case with a tentacle, chirping in her own voice. She adds via the teen, “But rarely… do we get to see…” She trails off, and the Queen’s chirping becomes a tender and reverent hum.
Jessica smiles. She teases playfully, “Between me and Mina taking all of the companion watches, you must be getting tired of us.”
The Queen practices English often, and she knows a lot. Though she doesn’t know all of the mechanisms of her ability to communicate beyond language barriers, she does seem to be able to use it to learn words and phrases by the humans, but she must work to teach her mouth and short tongue to form the words. She murmurs softly in her own, birdlike voice, “Meena… No. I… I… ehh… nidd you.”
Jessica says softly, “Need.”
“Need. Cave Queen need Meena and Jeckika.” The Queen struggles with T’s, S’s and any other pronunciation that’s heavy on the tip of the tongue. Most of her own sounds are produced in her throat, and she has astonishing control of her vocal cords. She often clicks when it’s a syllable she can’t pronounce, as with Jessica’s name, to make the syllable understandable and thus, a similar word.
Jessica gently touches the Queen’s tentacle affectionately and idly touching the case. She replies softly, “Need’s a kinda strong word, isn’t it? I mean… You lived for so long alone. I can’t imagine the strength it takes to survive that.”
The Queen starts to try to reply herself, but it’s clearly going to be too long when Jessica’s mouth starts talking by the unfelt commands, “Even when my world was populated, my kind lived alone, waiting. It is a balance to maintain our dens. Some of my kind had to trade with surface dwellers. My den was large enough to support me without outside contact, and it had resources the surface dwellers wanted, so we traded. Without humans though, I would die, and my children would be gone.”
“So, you need humanity in general, not just me and Mina.”
“No,” chirps the Queen’s voice. She continues with Jessica’s, “Mina and Jessica… This… metal cave… ship… I am only able to stay calm because of my treasured ones. Everything is strange. Alien. I do not venture the tunnels for fear of getting lost. I am at the mercy of you humans now, and I am content with that. Many of your kind are merciful.”
The auburn haired teen smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. Truly, if there is ever anything you need, please tell me.”
The Queen gently hugs the young marine, replying tenderly in her own chirping voice, “Yame kuu you. {Same to you}”
Only a few idle moments pass before the door opens, and three marines storm inside, weapons ready. It startles both of them, and even moreso when Long is suddenly pulled in a fast motion. When she makes sense of it, she realizes the Queen instinctively placed herself between the intruders and Long, but also carried them both as far away from the door as possible while she grabbed her “cruncher” as it’s been nicknamed. Though its mechanisms for firing the coral arrows it shoots is fascinating, it’s actually extraordinarily inefficient. The Queen is the only one strong enough to operate it, apparently, and it doesn’t deliver much more force than a standard anti-tank rifle, which is a lot, but considering how big it is and how much force it takes to operate, it’s not practical as it is for the fleet. With that said, of course, Dr. Lopez was the first one to remark that it can probably work as is in virtually any environment, including underwater and in the vacuum of space. This is an advantage over any human weapon so far, as they all require specific rounds tailored to the environment of use. Similarly, the Grodrrn weapons don’t work in water and can’t even be brought into some environments because of the ever-present electrical arcs within them.
In the moment, though, the Queen is defensive only. And, Grey’s voice calls out, “LONG! You all okay?”
Surprised, Long replies, “Y-Yes Chief!”
“Anyone try to get in?” Once they’re close, Long can tell that Mina and Pratt are the two with him.
Still trying to understand the urgency in his voice, Jessica replies nervously, “N-No, Chief. What’s going on?”
Now, Grey’s posture signals that he’s a little surprised. He glances at Mina. Mina replies, “Good way to be wrong in my book, Chief.”
Pratt tries to joke, “Yeah. Only other option is the eggs.”
Everyone looks at him. He shifts, asking, “Uh… What did I say?”
Grey immediately shouts, “Long, get your weapon and seal the door behind us. No one in or out. NO ONE. Coulson, Pratt, Let’s go.”
Jessica squeaks, “Wait! What is it, Chief?”
“Protestors. A lot of them.”
The teen’s tone shifts coldly and calmly, “It is already too late. Your… ‘protestors’ have already reached the lab.” The Queen has relaxed her guard, saying softly through Jessica, “Maybe it is for the best.”
Mina barks passionately, “It’s not for the best! Chief!”
Grey nods, “Maybe there’s time. Move, marines!” He says to Long, “No one in or out.”
She nods nervously, watching as they storm away. She looks up at the Queen, silently wondering how she knows the protestors are there. She does have a camera feed to the lab, but she wasn’t using it.
Now might not be the best time to ask, though.
***
The three marines burst into the lab, weapons ready. It’s immediately reminiscent of a warzone. Everything is a mess. Beakers and test tubes are smashed. Liquids of all colors are spilled on counters and floors. One of the incubator rigs is completely tipped over on its side with the fluids dumped on the floor. The other one looks like one of the pods was cut open with a knife and the motion system destroyed.
Only one of the scientists are present, Dr. Coulson. He’s sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. One of his sleeves is ripped and stained with a little blood, and he coughs.
Mina yelps, “Dad!” She runs to his aid, and he looks up, revealing his black eye and several cuts on his forehead and cheeks. She instantly snaps, “WHO DID THIS!? Dad, who hurt you!?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He grunts in pain as she helps him up, and he replies, “I… I’m not sure. I-It happened s-so fast… SO fast…” He looks at Grey pleadingly, saying, “We did everything we could! You have to believe me! I-I tried to protect…”
Grey nods, “It’s okay, Doctor. Where are the eggs?”
Dr. Coulson points to a spot on the floor, saying with obvious distaste and horror, “T-Two of them are over there…”
“Two?” asks Grey cautiously. He doesn’t need to inspect the jelly-like mess on the floor where Coulson indicated.
Coulson replies even more down-hearted, “We were launching a search… F-For the third when they arrived… It was already missing…”
“Missing?” repeats Grey. “How could one go missing? This lab is always occupied, isn’t it?”
Coulson nods. “I-I don’t know… Heloise noticed it during her walkthrough.”
“Mom?” asks Mina surprised. “Where is she now?”
“Looking for marines…” replies Dr. Coulson. “After she escorted those of us who wanted back to their rooms, just a few minutes ago.” He adds, “I’ve looked everywhere. I… I don’t know what could have happened…”
Mina asks, “Chief, What do we do? They killed three innocent lives, they beat up my dad… I-… I don’t think… I want them hurt. Badly. I…”
Grey replies, “We have to find them first. Any security cameras in here, or…”
A new voice says calmly, “I don’t think that will be necessary.” They all look to find Lieutenant Kane. With him are Heloise, Khla, and Hancock. He says confidently, “We will find them. But, it’s two lives, Petty Officer. Not three.”
She starts to protest, “But, sir!...”
He presents a much smaller incubator; likely the prototype for the larger ones. It’s about the size of an icecream bucket, and it has enough room for about three to five eggs. Inside it is the missing third egg. He explains, “I didn’t have time to ask permission. I’m sorry. I wanted to get her set up before the flight this morning. I have a music player playing soft music intermittently with talking. It seems mental stimulation is the biggest factor we missed. The embryos clearly rely on activity around them to develop. This one’s E.E.G. readings haven’t dropped below the previously recorded peaks since this morning. I only regret I didn’t take all three.” He hands the incubator to Dr. Coulson for inspection. He then adds politely, “As for the assailants;…” He gestures to a specific area of the lab and says, “Craw, if you would, please.”
The Grodrrn pilot nods and steps forward. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply through her nose. She’s clearly focused on divining a scent trail.
Surprised, Dr. Coulson says, “How is she supposed to exclude everyone else? There’s nothing with an exclusive scent.”
Khla replies gently, “Hooman smell strong. Varying. Clothes too. Lootenn Kane say scienteests all wear lobb coats, yuss?”
Dr. Coulson replies, “Uh-w-yes?” He seems to get Khla’s point, but is surprised that she seems so confident that she can sense them.
Khla explains as she absorbs the scents, “Morr experience Grodurns, sooch as Yarjen Jor conn determine how many beings have been in room in day, what food they ate, ond, even wheech ships being on. I conn at least find clothes not lobb coat or marine suits.”
Coulson says softly, “That’s incredible.”
She inhales one more time, exhaling calmly through her mouth. She states calmly, “I have the smell.”
Kane asks, “Chief, you comfortable following the trail with Craw? I’m going to secure the embryo in my cabin and then make sure the hangar hasn’t gotten any worse.”
The chief nods, “Sir, yes sir.”
Kane nods. “Good. Then this is where my cognizance ends. Be careful everyone.” With that, he takes the small incubator and leaves.
Grey asks Heloise, “Sherriff? You mind watching over the lab?”
Heloise scoffs, retorting, “I wasn’t a sherriff. Just Heloise is fine. And, yes Chief. Not that there’s much left to protect.”
Dr. Coulson sighs, saying, “There, we have some good news. The preliminary diploid stem cells we engineered from Craw and patients two and three are safe in that back room. We were going to test immunosuppressants this weekend, and could see implantation in the next month. Khla’s, maybe sooner. She’s showing low rejection.”
Grey replies, “Great news, Doc, but off topic. Still, you two try to get this lab straightened up. Any bodies you need, let us know. We’ll get it done as soon as this protest is under control. See if the incubators are still working. The Queen isn’t getting any smaller. We’ll deal with your assailants.”
Coulson and Heloise nod. Grey then asks, “You coming with us, Rookie?”
Surprised, Hancock says, “Oh, uh, I was supposed to get this equipment back to Lopez, but if you think you need me…”
Grey replies, “You’re the officer, Rookie. That’s kinda your call.”
It’s easy to see why Hancock hesitates. It’s not a stretch to take Grey’s reply as passive aggressive. Realizing this, Grey adds warmly, “For the record, SIR, not only does Dr. Lopez outrank everyone, anyways, whatever she’s working on is bound to be a priority. Plus, we shouldn’t need you. Thanks, though.”
Hancock sighs and replies, “Thank you, Chief. Hopefully, I can get a ride over there.”
Grey then gestures to Pratt and Mina, “Let’s move marines. Craw, lead the way.”
The Grodrrn nods, leading out of the lab. As they walk, she asks, “Chief?”
“Hm?” he grunts.
“What did Doctor Coulson mean? About… stem cells and rejickshun?”
Grey scoffs, “I’m not the one to ask. But, whatever it was, it sounded promising.”
She turns quiet, seemingly unsure what to say. Mina remarks, “Don’t hold your breath, though. You see the luck we’re having with the Cave Queen’s eggs.”
Khla’s answer surprises the three humans, “Some hope better thonn none at all.”
They walk in quiet for a bit after that. Khla’s nose leads them to the civilian berthing areas, which she’s never been in before. Her very presence frightens the humans who may not have even known she was on the ship, let alone those who did. She towers over adults, and she could quickly kill almost anyone with her strong body and sharp claws and teeth. Parents pull their children into their room, and men and women quickly disappear or silently watch them. Outwardly, Khla makes no indication of even noticing any of it. She simply follows the invisible trail.
Grey gets it though. As a marine, he’s received this kind of response in virtually every country on Earth, including his own. Just doing his job, people treated him like he was personally going to murder them and everyone they knew. Sure, plenty of people thanked him all the time for his service and bought him meals and such, but many more made him feel like some sort of abominable alien invader without ever saying a word. He learned to wear that same stony expression, but it never did not hurt.
Khla doesn’t necessarily want the approval of the entire human race, since she understands what she represents. But, at the same time, she is thankful for her tenuous status as part of the crew. It’s not only improving her own life, but improving that of the other Grodrrns. Captain Long has approved brief recreation for the Grodrrns, one at a time of course, to walk around, stretch, see the stars, and otherwise be out of their cells. And, though Captain Long is rather fond of the relationship she’s building with Dzor, he’s not allowed out of his cell without at least ten highly experienced marines available to contain him, and he’s not allowed near any windows, walls, or doors. He essentially just paces around the open area of the containment deck with a circle of guards around him, and then goes back to his cell.
Though Dzor won’t admit it to anyone, Khla believes he is thankful, as he has quietly praised her for being professional with the humans without fully appeasing. Likewise, the humans do their best not to pry on intelligence matters to keep Khla’s relationship with Dzor –and thus the human relationship to Dzor- as positive as possible.
Khla’s nose doesn’t disappoint, either. The first place they find has a young man boasting about how “They were all crying, ‘Oh! Stop! Please!’ So pathetic. Disgusting fish eggs. I think my shoes are gonna reek of fish forever.”
His companions at the break area tables, where civilians can gather outside of their rooms, noticed primarily Khla long before he does, and their subtle attempts to signal him were in vain.
Chief Grey says plainly, “Darn things are disgusting, aren’t they?”
The guy scoffs in agreement, turning to approve, “Yeah-…” he halts as his eyes widen.
Grey instantly grips him before he can flee, and he drags the young man out of the chair aggressively, kneeing him in the abdomen to quash any resistance. The man coughs, and Mina yells, “Those babies were innocent, you monster!” She starts to try to attack him, but Grey calmly blocks her, saying, “Stay calm. We got him. Anyone else, Helmdraff?”
Someone nearby flees, and Grey states, “Pratt.”
Pratt; quiet, reserved, less disciplined and competent than some; is far from being a worthless recruit. He instantly sprints the person down –and Pratt is a FAST runner-. Catching the fleeing suspect with ease, he tackles the suspect against the wall, restraining him as he was taught.
Khla replies, “I sensed more than two, boot, I do not know how many. I sorry.”
Grey replies calmly as Pratt drags the squirming suspect back to them, “It’s fine. Looks to me like we got two singers right here.”
The one Pratt apprehended spits and snarls, “I ain’t telling you croc-lovers a single thing! You can’t hurt me! I have rights!”
Mina snarls right back, “So did the babies you killed!”
“The fish!? Ha! They’re just fish, you traitor!”
“Traitor!? I-…” “That’s enough,” says Grey sternly, cutting off Mina. “Brig’s full. But, I think there are some open slots in the Garden.”
Mina thinks for a moment, realizing the ‘Garden’ is what used to be an observation deck and now houses conex containers that have been retrofitted into prison cells. She starts laughing deviously.
Suddenly terrified, the man asks, “Wait, Garden? What’s the Garden? It’s not the real Garden, right? You’re being a jerk, right? What is it? You have to tell me. I DEMAND you tell me! You work for me, pigs!”
The first suspect coughs again. He groans out, “The Garden… is the croc prison…”
Grey taunts, “Hey! Give this guy a gold star. Heck, make it two. People like him love gold stars.”
As the two are being pulled away by the marines, the second screams, “You can’t do this! You can’t keep treating animals better than us! This will end! Your elitist reign will end!”
Grey retorts dryly, “Give it a rest, idiot. There’s no media anymore to give you attention.”
“Don’t let them do this to us! We outnumber them! Stand up! Don’t let beasts take priority!”
Pratt retorts, “We’re not. We’re herding you to a nice cozy pen where you belong.”
The man writhes against the rookie marine, but his grip doesn’t yield. Chief Grey chuckles, “Well said, Pratt. Well said.” They lead the two away. Both are combative, but the second screams until his voice gives out, receiving no aid from anyone they pass.
It’s when the door opens to the Garden, and the two men see Baskylla Jardzen Dzor for the first time, the Grodrrn enjoying his recreational time with a dozen armed guards, that it truly sinks in. Chief Grey wasn’t exaggerating.
The two instantly start begging for it to be a joke. They plead with Chief Grey. They try to sink to their knees.
Then comes the blame. They metaphorically trip over each other, trying to pin the blame on one another. They apologize in typical desperate and insincere fashion. They say ‘sorry’, but won’t elaborate what they are sorry for. Then they claim fear and hunger and restlessness.
Chief Alexander Grey has been shot, burned, bludgeoned, and lost the use of one of his eyes. And, in all that suffering, he’s become the worst nightmare of these two entitled individuals. He is jaded.
Chief –then, Sargeant- Grey was shot for asking a man’s wife if he was involved in the terrorist activities they were investigating. Not for the question, but because he talked to the wife; ‘property’ of the man in question, without his permission. He was burned protecting a child from a blast. He was bludgeoned for wearing his uniform to a restaurant. And, he lost his eye shielding a fellow marine.
He has NO sympathy for the consequences of wrong doing.
Just as they are passing the Jardzen, who watches curiously and cleanly over the heads of the marines, the two suspects start adding names. Chief Grey halts the group, saying gruffly, “Go on…”
“Yo-you gotta promise to let us go! You can’t make us stay here!”
Grey, without hesitation, replies, “Names, and I can arrange that.”
The second man spits out instantly, “Cynthia Brock! She organized everything! She told us when to hit the lab!”
“And Jordan Greb-… Gurb… ‘G-something’! He let us in!”
Khla surprises the marines when she asks, “Doctor Grenbullchiff?”
The man nods fervently, and Khla explains to the surprised looks, “He is doctor working on my…” She halts.
Mina quickly turns to Grey, “Chief!”
“Go!” He nods her on. “Be careful!”
“Yes, Chief!”
Mina sprints back to the lab, praying it’s not too late. The labs, including Khla’s stem cells, are almost completely empty, now. ALMOST. Those who are there are two thirds of Mina’s family. She pushes herself even harder.
She quickly posts on the door, opening it quickly. She scans frantically from corner to corner. No signs of anyone. She calls out, “Mom? You here?”
Silence. Mina’s heart thunders continuously.
“Mom? Dad?” Her tone grows more urgent.
She hears grunting in the other room. She quickly posts off to the side of the door, whirling in quickly.
She finds HM1 Brown holding a still-struggling scientist in a sleeper as her father, Dr. Coulson, and her stepmother, Heloise, nurse their ears.
Mina freezes when a pistol presses to the back of her head. Her heart stops.
Chief Tachibana’s voice yells unnaturally loudly, “YOU DIDN’T CLEAR YOUR CORNERS, COULSON!”
Relieved and surprised, Mina turns, “Chief? What happened?”
“WHAT!?” shouts Tachibana. It’s not a shout of offense. It’s a shout of someone who can’t hear.
Mina’s pause cues Tachibana to speak. The female chief tries to tone it down, but she still speaks obnoxiously loudly, “There wasn’t time to think. Brown tossed a flashbang. You’re lucky I could tell it was you.”
Mina nods. She says slowly and loudly, “Is everyone okay?”
Tachibana nods, “Barely. Caretaker Coulson had him at gunpoint, but he was opening the chamber anyways.”
“How did you know to come here?”
Tachibana must not have heard everything by the way she pauses, but she replies, “How? Hangar cleared up. Fisher and Marvoni took the rest of A-team to the Queen’s nest, looking for Grey. We came here to check.”
Mina sighs. She replies softly, “Thank you, Chief.”
The Chief may or may not have heard, but she orders, “Coulson, help Brown secure the assailant. We need to figure out how deep this goes.”
Mina nods, knowing Tachibana probably won’t hear a confirmation anyways.
Back with Chief Grey, he asks, “Where do we find this Cynthia Brock?”
“I-… I don’t know, honest. She found us.” The other man nods in confirmation.
“Ship’s not THAT big. You’ve never run into her anywhere else?”
Both shake their heads. Grey sighs, “Of course. Well then, I guess we’re done with you two.”
Relieved, the first suspect, named Brian, asks, “You’re letting us go?”
Timothy, the other sighs out, “Oh thank god…”
Grey snorts and then laughs. “Are you serious? You apologized and repented for protesting during these already-stressful times. You’re still murderers, and you disrespected a valued crewmember in Craw. Up to me, I’d jettison you into space. But it ain’t.”
“B-But you promised!” they both exclaim.
“I did no such thing,” retorts Grey facetiously. “I said it CAN be arranged. And, it certainly can. But, it also ain’t. Don’t look that one in the eyes.” He points at Dzor, shoving the two into the custody of the guards.
Grey then turns to Khla, saying warmly, “Thank you for your help, Craw. You can either turn in, or Pratt can escort you back to your normal post. Your choice. Pratt, you get that?”
Pratt nods, “Yes Chief.”
Grey starts to leave, but Khla says gently, “Chief Grey.”
He stops and turns. “That’s me.”
“Did… You and… Fisher mean it?”
Grey nods without hesitation. He asks, “You a member of our crew, Helmdraff?”
She looks at Dzor, who heard the whole part with Grey. The Baskylla Jardzen says nothing. He doesn’t even make any gestures. He simply looks on.
Khla tries to stick with her neutral answer, “I serve the needs of the humans to serve the needs of…”
Dzor is the first to chuckle deeply, turning and walking towards his cell. Khla stares at him, confused. Grey replies quietly, “Even he knows what we know. We’re not each other’s enemies.” Grey gently pats her arm as he would anyone else. He adds, “You looked after members of this fleet today. Thank you.”
She nods. “Thank you as well.”
Grey smirks and nods.
***