Jessica awakens from a good sleep. It’s holiday routine, so she didn’t have an alarm set. Angelica, of course, is long gone, likely working in some capacity. Work still needs done even on days off, and a Captain’s more than most.
The teen does her routine check nonetheless. She finds Vivi’s pouch and checks inside. The pouch lets Jessica keep the tiny alien close without crushing her if she rolls over. There’s a moistened cloth inside in case Vivi feels dry, but otherwise, it’s not sealed anymore.
And, to Jessica’s dismay, Vivi is not inside. She sits up quickly, searching all around her. She squeaks frantically, “Vivi!? Sweetie!?”
A crackling crunch comes from the top of Jessica’s head, like a shell being cracked open. It’s now that she feels a strange ‘knot’ in her hair.
Jessica asks, “Vivi? Is that you?”
A tiny voice hums an affirmative. The tiny alien’s grip on her hair shifts a little, and the crunch sounds again. Jessica gently lifts her hand, and Vivi crawls onto it holding something. The teen lowers her tiny daughter so she can see, and the squid-like girl is happily munching on a peanut, shell and all.
Jessica asks, surprised, “Where did you get that, Vivi?”
Vivi squeaks, “Antie…” She points beyond the curtain. She adds, “Vivi hungie.”
“Awe… I’m sorry. You could have woke me up.”
Vivi smiles, replying, “Vivi okay. Vivi find peanie.” Jessica snorts, trying to suppress a laugh. She says, “That word… Um, you might wanna ensure you say ‘peanut’.”
“Okay!” Vivi takes another bite, and Jessica realizes what Vivi just said. “Wait, you found it? I thought you said Angie gave it to you.”
The tiny alien swallows and replies, “Mm-hmm. Auntie at table, Meemee. Vivi ask for foo, and Antie give.”
“She heard you?”
Vivi shakes her head, simply standing up and carrying her meal to the edge of the bed. Before Jessica can object, Vivi crawls down the curtain and slips out into the main room. The teen scrambles out of bed and carefully darts out of the curtain, calling, “Vivi!?”
The little alien girl is halfway to the table already, and she halts, looking at Jessica as the teen shields her light-sensitive eyes while they adjust. Vivi, however, seems none-too-bothered by the light in the least.
Vivi states, “Vivi okay,” when Jessica adds nothing. The little princess then proceeds to nimbly crawl up the table with her peanut and join Captain Long at the table. Angelica is in uniform, but she’s sipping a coffee as she reads her tablet computer.
Jessica cautiously walks towards them as Angelica affectionately pets Vivi’s head for equally affectionate chirps. Angelica says, “Good morning, Cottonpuff.”
The teen replies, “Good morning, Si-um, Captain.” She adds, “I… don’t understand… Vivi? Isn’t the light hurting your eyes? Or your…?” Jessica looks. She THOUGHT it was possible, but it seems to be certain. Vivi’s skin is nowhere near as translucent as when she hatched. And, though her eyes are still very dark, her irises, which fill what would be a human’s sclera -or whites- are actually a vivid purple color, with big pupils that seem to have four sections separated only by the faintest line, like cells dividing. Her skin is still a pale color, but has a more bluish-grey appearance now.
Vivi replies, “No hurt. Meemee okay?”
Jessica sits down at her usual spot, replying, “Yeah…”
Angelica replies warmly, “Little girl plopped up onto the table and gave me a scare, but she seems fine. Her skin seem darker to you?”
Jessica nods. Angelica replies, “Thought so, too. Dr. Coulson might be able to shed some light, but maybe Vivi’s just getting all of her vitamins.” Angelica tickles the tiny princess for gleeful chirps.
After, Vivi nibbles more on her peanut. She tries not to be wasteful, but they had to teach her to hold onto what she starts eating so she can finish it, rather than put it back. The peanut, like many other things, is much more than she can finish in one sitting, but her metabolism seems to be moderately high, allowing her to eat several times a day, where the Queen’s ‘days’ are much longer, stretching her ‘two meals per rotation’ to about one a day. Though Vivi isn’t noticeably any bigger, maybe Angelica’s right. Even the Queen thinks her species traditionally lacks the nutrition to develop any level of light resistance.
Jessica finally sighs relief. She says warmly, “Well, good. That makes life easier.” Vivi keeps munching peanut shell, watching Jessica curiously. The teen decides to have a few herself, and she takes a few from the bowl. Unlike Vivi, she won’t eat the shells, but it all ends up mulched and used to feed the gardens.
Vivi suddenly looks to the door, not afraid yet, but curious. A knock follows soon after. Jessica hops up, saying, “I’ll get it.” She jogs briskly to the door. Not much can prepare someone for opening a door to find a wall of scales, muscle, and teeth blocking almost the entire door, but Jessica only jumps a little. This particular form, terrifying as he could be, is virtually harmless. Specifically, to Jessica and her older sister.
Jesscia squeaks, “Yarjen Jor! I wasn’t expecting you! Sorry.”
He nods, asking, “May we speak weeth Copton?” Jessica looks, noticing Hancock and Lopez with the massive commandant.
“Oh! Uh, of course! Come on in! Please! Sorry it’ll be a little crowded.”
Jessica steps inside, and Dzor ducks through the door, towering over everyone. Lopez and Hancock squeeze past him and stand behind Jessica’s seat at the table.
Dzor is just about to speak, but his gaze snaps to the tiny alien on the table. Perhaps at first glimpse, it struck him as a pest or vermin, but he instantly realizes what she is. Vivi sits quietly. Everyone is bigger than her, after all.
Lopez, however, spots her as well, and she gasps. The timid doctor quickly steps forward, whimpering, “It-It can’t be, can it? Y-You’re… Th-This…”
Jessica squeaks as Lopez leans over the table to inspect the tiny girl, “Oh! Right! Um, Doctor Lopez, Ensign Hancock, Yarjen Jor; this is Vivi. Vivi, say hi to Yarjen, Doctor Lopez, and Hancock.”
Levi replies giddily, “L-Levi. Call me Levi.”
Vivi waves a lace-like tentacle and says, “I Vivi. Vivi say hi.” Lopez nearly melts into the chair, whimpering, “She’s so beautiful…”
Vivi grins, crawling over to touch Lopez’s hand.
Meanwhile, Angelica asks with a smile, “What do you need?”
Dzor snaps out of his trance of watching the small alien be cared for indiscriminately by a young human, and he replies, “We theenk. Ond, we have thought.”
Hancock adds, “As you do…” Angelica scoffs, waiting for Dzor to continue. Dzor, not disrupted in the least, continues, “Zarakyssns hate gold. Fievegal no idea why. Boot, we deescoos. Believe may shield long range Zarak queen heeve meend. Can’t prove, boot best ond seempulist onswor.”
Hancock remarks, “The Yarjen explained the Fievegal weaponized gold in every way they could think of to no effect. But, still Zarakyssns avoid gold on worlds they mine, as well as the shielding in-...”
“The reactor rooms…” finishes the Admiral.
Hancock slumps, joking, “Awww, Admiral, I wanted to sound smart.”
She smirks. She asks with interest, though, “You think it’s that… simple? Box her in with gold, and that’s it?”
Lopez offers as she gently holds Vivi in her palm, “It’ll be difficult to quantify for sure why it works, but… in the Yarjen’s own words… It’s the simplest answer as to why.” She smiles at Vivi as the tiny being inspects Lopez’s glasses, which she takes off. Vivi is amazed at the magnification effect and flips back and forth, trying to understand the sorcery at work. Lopez’s prescription is fairly mild-to-moderate, so it magnifies a little from the right distance, and doesn’t blur too much else.
The Admiral says without much doubt or concern, “Alright. I’ll contact Providence and see how many doubloons Russell has squirrelled away.” She makes a point of winking at Lopez.
Vivi’s tiny voice squeaks, “Dubwoon?”
Jessica coos, “Yes, Sweetie. Pirate money, Arr.”
Hancock unhesitatingly adds, “Arr.”
Lopez says as well in a tiny voice, “Arr…”
The tiny squid girl grins, saying proudly, “Arr!”
The group laughs warmly, and Vivi looks up at Dzor. She states innocently, “I tink you weak. Arr!”
There’s a tense pause as everyone watches the literal giant cock his head. Dzor has a few buttons that people are terrified to push, because his growl alone could nearly kill a person. But, he simply replies, “Eez so?”
Angelica explains, “She recognizes voices she heard even in her egg.” Vivi reaches toward him.
Dzor hesitates, but gently offers one of his massive hands. Vivi touches his lightly-fuzzy and scaly skin curiously. She coos, “Fuzzy…”
Dzor says gently, “{May the twin suns guide and nurture this Zhi.}” Vivi cocks her head curiously, and Dzor adds, “Yes. Fuzzy.”
The tiny alien girl grins, bearing her two singular, sharp teeth. The Grodrrn grins in return, revealing his many, much larger sharp teeth.
He then says to a surprised Admiral Long, “I steel say keel Zarak Queen, boot moost find way to verify results.”
Angelica nods, “Of course. Kane’s idea is the most sound. It’ll take some time to gather all of our gold in the fleet, so we’ll have him monitor her when she resumes consciousness. Obviously, it’s imperative Queen Syretia does NOT catch wind of our test.”
The group nods, and Lopez says softly, “I’m content never coming in contact with her.”
Long smiles gently and nods.
***
It’s been a little over 2 days since the meeting with Kane about the Zarak Queen. Captain Dodge and Captain Francisco have both been relieved from their respective commands.
Captain Dodge handled himself well in most of the situations they’ve faced so far, but the stress finally got to him when Khla arrived in his battleship and ordered the humans to flee while he attempted to hold off the four horde ships. Dodge couldn’t reconcile himself to abandon an apparent ally and attempt to flee, even as he watched his fellow ships burning and fighting desperately just to survive. One ship escaping is better than no one escaping, but he couldn’t do it, nor could he live with endangering the lives on the Andromeda any further. He had made his choice, but dumb luck had Lieutenant Kane on his bridge, who saved Dodge’s life and managed to help Long turn the battle.
Captain Francisco, on the other hand, was relieved not because he DID attempt to flee the battle, but because he did so in such a poorly conceived and fearful manner, destroying the Honolulu and costing hundreds of lives in the process. Similarly, he feels disgraced, and didn’t want to continue serving. He was relieved honorably, though he pulled his own Captain’s eagles off and left quietly.
Captain Francisco was relieved by his executive officer, Captain Jacques Decklette. Decklette had been abducted early on, and was still incapacitated during most of the battle, which didn’t matter much since the Argonaut was disabled after Captain Francisco’s attempted escape maneuver.
Captain Dodge was replaced by his executive officer as well, Lieutenant Commander Helena Beeker. Due to personnel issues still being sorted out, there were a lot of high level officers that were removed from duty following the shift of authority during the martial law takeover essentially started by Dodge himself. This “thinning of experience” effectively reduced the number of naval officers with any meaningful command experience at the start of the fleet’s journey. From there, young, partially trained officers have been thrust into positions they would normally wait years to fill, such as LCDR Beeker to executive officer, and now, lacking anyone else with experience on the Andromeda and Kane’s obligations to ambassadorial roles with the Zarak Queen, Beeker is the best choice only from a lack of options.
That’s not to say that she’s not a worthy and loyal POTENTIAL Captain, but that she still has a LOT to learn, and it shows, about dealing with a crew during non-wartime, let alone during the constant stress and battle they’re facing now. Will Beeker be able to handle it? More than likely. But, it will certainly put her through her paces.
Murdock, on the other hand, had a near full career in the navy before becoming a civilian Captain, and he became a civilian Captain because he was tired of the politics, the uniforms, the rules and regulations, who to salute and when, what to do when a senator arrives, and so many other trivial things. When he accepted Captain for one of Russell’s colossal ego strokers, he was at such a level of ‘screw it’ that he figured that retiring in the night sky itself would be a poetic end, and his contract with Russell very specifically said there would be no uniform for him, and if they wanted him out of sight for the politics, to simply let him know. And, the two have always gotten along swimmingly.
Now, Murdock relaxes in his captain’s chair with his feet up on his console with his tropical shirt unbuttoned and untucked, chewing on a jerkied piece of meat from the Grodrrns, and sipping a tiny glass of alcohol smuggled to him by the very same reptilian cosmonauts from Khla’s battleship when it was still present. Being a Captain has perks, and being a non-stick in the mud captain has more perks. Grodrrn alcohol is heavy and stinks, but it’s alcohol, and it's heavy. So, everyone else on the bridge knows exactly what he’s doing, but no one says a word. Murdock fought tooth and nail to protect the fleet and used everything at their disposal on a repair ship trying to keep everyone safe.
The communication channel blinks, and he clicks on it. Admiral Long’s face appears. It’s her daily check in.
Murdock says warmly, “Supernova.”
She smirks with a scoff, “Captain Murdock. Anything to report?”
“No ma’am. Russell’s been pretty quiet today. Not much for him to do, what with the lines all set. Honolulu is getting ammunition loaded today. She’ll be fightin’ ready by the next jump.”
“Excellent. Where are we at on the next ship’s keel?”
“Still stuck. The crane is having communication issues. We’ve unlocked the panel Russell used, but more likely, the damage to the aux bridge pulled wires and damaged insulation further back.”
“I see. Keep me updated. If we can come up with an alternate solution, by all means, let’s pursue it.”
“We… will need to have time to actually collect raw materials, Admiral. I understand the situation we’re in, but at some point, we’ll be out of improvisation options.”
“I understand. We have some plans in the works. If we can’t function, let me know.”
“Understood, Admiral. Anything else?”
“I think that’ll be all. Thank you.”
Murdock nods, and he gives a half-hearted salute. That’s certainly more than almost anyone gets; the sincerest sign of respect Murdock gives. When the screen dies, a purple glow in his peripherals catches his eyes. When Murdock looks left towards the glow, it’s already gone. Perhaps it was a strange reflection. The armored transparent metal used for the windows has a lot of weird reflections, glares, and lens flares.
However, there is something to see; two red lights and two bluish white lights on the front of the Polonia. There are lights on the outside of the ships, but these lights are out of place. They have a strange spacing, and serve no real purpose. He uses his console to zoom in on the hull of the Polonia at the location.
Sure enough, it’s Russell’s precious supercar, with the tail lights and headlights on. Of course, it looks like they’re dimming a little and brightening a little intermittently, but mostly, they’re just on. He can’t tell if anyone is inside it from his range, but it’s definitely odd.
The unorthodox captain calls the Polonia, and Long’s face appears again. She remarks, “Captain Murdock. Something wrong?”
“Uh, dunno. Someone trying to take Rusty’s car for a drive?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Take a look. Lights on that damn supercar of Russell’s are on.”
Long turns away from the screen for a moment to look. She says, “Huh… They are, aren’t they? Shouldn’t be anyone out there. I was pretty sure the battery was taken out anyways.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Murdock scoffs, joking, “Well, either someone’s pretending to joy ride, or the spirit of Nikola Tesla is haunting us.”
Long chuckles, saying warmly, “I’ll make an announcement really quick to identify all hull workers. Excuse me a second.”
She mutes her microphone to make her announcement while Murdock sips his drink. Unpleasant taste aside, the drink does pair pretty well with the Grodrrn jerky. He chews rather indignantly as he waits on Long. She activates her microphone again, and she remarks, “That’s so weird.”
“Anyone out there?”
“They’re taking role now. You’re sure Russell’s on the Providence?”
He scoffs, “Yeah. No shuttles have departed.”
Long looks to the side at a voice, and she reports, “Huh. No one’s out there. Could someone have done it a while ago you think?”
“Must have. That, or the battery gremlins came by…”
Both of their faces drain of color as they come to the same realization at the same time. Both commanding officers shout at the other, “NEBULA BOLT!”
They both nod, and Admiral Long quickly activates the fleet channel as Murdock flips the alarm switch for a nebula bolt. A long horn grows, silencing a moment, and grows again, repeating this over and over again, broken only when Long makes her emergency announcement.
“NEBULA BOLT! NEBULA BOLT! All hands, clear all emergency doors and set emergency zebra! Emergency Diverge! All hands brace!”
The Captains all take over their own ships, making further announcements and directing crews to their locations. Sadly, with a nebula bolt, time is of the essence, and by the time the charge is discovered, it’s usually too late to do much of anything, which is why step one is to slam the emergency air tight doors shut. Whatever rooms ruptured can’t be saved, as the bolt can discharge across miles, and the ships are all within a few thousand feet of each other. Diverting all of the ships away from each other is the only real way to try to avoid damaging two or more ships simultaneously, as there isn’t really any way to absorb the charge quickly enough. It is the energy of a dead star or star seed that’s floating through space.
The Providence has the easiest maneuver of all, being in the center. They simply cut engines and let the other ships pull ahead and away. It’s luck of the draw now, which ship will have the first bolt, and which ship will be hit, and which spaces on each ship are lost are equally unpredictable. Fortunately, the ships have some degaussing equipment and other electrical components in place to prevent the charge from spreading inside the hull of the ship, but it’ll still likely rip open one of the surface level spaces.
Murdock’s posture has switched to combat mode. He’s alert and standing, monitoring his orders, the status of equipment, and trying to watch for the bolt to see which ship they need to help recover.
He certainly didn’t sign up for this kind of chaos all the time, but he’ll damn well never shy away from his duty. Duty is a man’s true purpose, and Murdock has always chosen to be a man among men.
***
Syretia sits in her disabled ship in meditation. Kane begged her not to do anything to herself, giving her subtle hope that there is hope. She’s not sure what, but the humans and Grodrrns have been staging gear and crates near her ship.
She’s listening to the Prayer of the Chosen Queen as the horde prays together for brightness, for unity, and for wisdom. She keeps her mind tranquil and as empty as possible. She knows her sisters are already suspicious of her, particularly because they’ve been minimizing conversation with her. This is admittedly common practice if a Uniter Queen is captured, as they want to minimize what information is leaked through torture.
However, many of those captured sisters -those known to be fully loyal even in torture- typically get endless encouragement and directed prayers to stay strong and endure, and that the horde is coming. Her sisters have assured her that the horde is coming, but they haven’t been very supportive or encouraging. The fact that she’s not being tortured probably doesn’t help.
She looks blankly at the humans stacking crates. She doesn’t want to have any real thoughts that might be picked up by her sisters. Simply being alive makes her a spy within this tiny fleet. Her daughter’s fleet.
She looks down, bracing against the thought. It’s touching, but her emotions are the easiest thing for her sisters to feel, and having positive emotions will definitely let them know where her loyalties lie.
Sister, you are unusually quiet. Have doubts begun to fill your mind?
No, of course not. We are strongest together. I am maintaining calm, so that I do not cause discord.
They’re definitely suspicious.
Very well. Are you well fed, sister? How are your supplies?
Definitely, definitely suspicious. Queens are expected to ask if supplies are needed or assistance is needed. It is rarely offered. After all, they need only ask.
I have enough. We are united across the cosmos, and sustenance is but an afterthought.
Suddenly, an alarm sounds in the human ship. It rises in pitch and power, silencing, and then repeating. Then, the human female Long’s voice begins talking.
“{NEBULA BOLT! NEBULA BOLT! All hands, clear all emergency doors and set emergency zebra! Emergency Diverge! All hands brace!}”
Syretia barely comprehends human words at best, and Long spoke loudly and quickly. However, the sounds and the voice have startled the humans she can see, and they quickly slide their crates across the floor towards her ship.
Interesting. The heathen ship is in trouble, is it? Fortune smiles upon us, Sisters! Let the heathens fall into discord! We have our Sister’s location! Let us retrieve her and her precious daughter at once! Patience, Sister, we are coming.
Syretia feels nervous, but something felt… fuzzy about that assurance.
My Sisters, the humans are afraid of something. They’re sealing the ship, I think.
No matter… But,... you feel distant, Sister. Do you resist us?
What!? Of course not! We are united! We are all we need!
Silence.
No, not silence.
Emptiness is more accurate. What is this? It feels like…
Syretia twitches. Can it be? She touches her head. She’s not injured, and she’s definitely awake. She looks around. Nothing around her has changed.
Some of the humans have brought a couple more crates over, but they’re nervously frightened and now wearing their sealed suits. This isn’t their combat behavior. They staged for combat. This is different.
But, more importantly right now, what has happened to her sisters’ voices?
She looks at the crates. They are the only change. The first and most basic rule of discovery and inquisition is; what changed last? The humans brought crates over, and now she feels empty. Is it some sort of device to block out her bond?
Curiosity gets the better of her, and her guards are highly distracted now. She dons her own EVA suit and cycles through her airlock on the side of her ship. She makes a quick-line to the crates to investigate the phenomenon, and her presence startles the workers when they turn around. They cry out, but she has no interest. Either they’ll kill her -as she wishes, letting them raise her daughter in safety-, or they’ll try to get her back into her ship.
Syretia pulls the lid off of one of the metal crates. She recoils instantly at the shiny yellowish metal within. It’s gold! Crates and crates of gold! Gold bricks, tiny gold bricks, gold pieces and parts, gold fabric, and gold powder.
Syretia starts to shake, chattering her mandibles nervously.
But, she steadies herself a little.
WHY does she fear gold? She knows she’s supposed to, but why? When harvesting a world, the Shining Daughters simply avoid it, but they aren’t forbidden from entering areas where gold is present. Is it poisonous? What do her sisters say of it?
‘Gold serves our kind no purpose, and it is hazardous to our health.’
‘Hazardous to our health’ is the curious phrasing to her. She is a medical Queen, after all. And, hazardous to health is not the same as poisonous, toxic, or deadly. It usually means it has long term effects, but Zarakyssns don’t really fear long term effects, because they have such robust immune systems. It’s rare that anything can poison them or harm them.
Syretia is not a genius. She partially suspects her people are taught in a way not to be. Do not question, do not explore, do not interact. Unite -conquer- and move on. That’s it. She’s losing her illusions for her people, and now more than ever.
Syretia decides to take a chance, as the humans start to circle around her and yell, but it’s unintelligible to her other than “Noble Queen Syretia!” which she knows is how they refer to her. And, with these humans, it has no effect on her. Kane was the first to call her this, and in her own language no less.
Instead, she gingerly touches the gold fabric in the box. Her hand doesn’t burst into flames, turn blue or numb, and doesn’t begin to instantly rot. She tosses the lid of the crate to the side and pulls the golden fabric gingerly out. It’s a large sheet, long and wide enough to envelop her entire body.
It makes sense. It makes sense why her people fear and hate gold, but don’t let it be so obviously known. The Horde knows the Fievegal is aware of their fear, but they haven’t figured out why. And, most queens don’t even know why. Maybe none of them do.
However, the humans are obviously very intelligent. And, if they brought a massive pile of gold, perhaps they suspected what Syretia does now; gold is not toxic to her kind in any way.
It is a sink to her hive mind ability; her bond. It shields the connection.
She drapes the first sheet over her shoulders, using her secondary arms and her tools to weld the corners so it’ll stay on her at her collar. She then pulls out the next sheet, wrapping it over her head, and she can instantly feel the last shreds of the bond vanish.
A warmth fills her heart. The humans are geniuses. They are her saviors and her merciful captors. They have given her hope in a hopeless and unthinkable situation for a Uniter Queen. And yet, she may yet live a life she only ever thought she might have tasted for the briefest of fleeting moments.
She welds the corners of the gold around her head, shaking it side to side to make sure it’ll stay on. Sure enough, her makeshift clothes of gold fabric -which she imagines will be quite fragile- are holding. She listens and feels for her bond once more.
Nothing.
She’s not sure how she’ll deal with her daughter or any soldiers and workers she may someday provide for her new allies, but she will journey that path when it presents itself to her. For now, she can help in a situation she does not yet know. She looks at the humans around her. Some are the soldiers, aiming weapons at her and gesturing her to return to her ship. Others are the workers, backing away.
But, she smells it, even through her helmet. Human blood. A human is injured, and it is a task she is most suited for. It could be seen as good fortune that she will once more be able to SHOW her loyalties and her skills, rather than plead with empty words, but it is in fact bad fortune that a human was injured. At least, she’s pretty sure humans worry far more about harm than the Shining Daughters do.
Syretia marches toward the injured human, following the iron-laden scent of blood. She finds several humans gathered around one grievously wounded by one of the doors. It appears the emergency involves sealing all of the automatic doors on the ship. These were a great inconvenience to Syretia during the battle, because she did not know how to open them at the time, nor did she know how to open the small escape scuttles in them.
The humans draw weapons, shouting at her, but she marches closer. Even though she has hope now, it is they who want her alive more than she wants herself alive. For the rest of her life, if she lapses, if she loses her newfound shielding, or if she simply forgets to wear it, then her daughter and her daughter’s guardians will be found and perish. She is a danger to them all, and so, killing her isn’t the worst thing they can do.
That said, she also knows the humans have many cowards and diplomatic types, each of whom are unlikely to fire on her in hopes of not provoking her, or in preserving her life.
She inspects the injured human. Its left leg was severed mid lower leg bone by the merciless emergency door. Blood is pooling, though the humans have applied a tourniquet to slow the blood loss. Clever, and perhaps they saved his life. However, it won’t save his leg. She listens closely to the door, tapping on it. The sound is consistent with atmosphere on the far side, so she opens the scuttle and looks. The rest of the leg is present, though partially pinched under the door still where it slid into place. That will be inconvenient, but fortunately, human flesh is quite stretchy.
Syretia reaches through, using her laser scalpel to free the leg and maximize the amount of flesh saved. She then retreats through the scuttle, closing it tightly behind her. The humans watch, still shouting at her, but she sets the leg down and sets to work.
Fortunately, Syretia has secondary arms, unlike the humans. It makes her quite effective at what she’s doing. She has to cut and peel flesh, reconstruct bone, use her mineral solder tool to stitch the bone, antibiotics to minimize infection, and a file to smooth some of the worst edges of the bone. The human wails in agony, but the other humans are watching in surprise.
Syretia grows quickly tired of the screaming, and she draws one of her soldier’s weapons she found hidden in her ship, and she fires it once, putting it back. The human patient stops screaming, but now the other humans are shouting at her again. She glances at them, her deft hands still moving and operating tools at speeds the humans seem to struggle to comprehend. Fortunately, she’s at a simple stage of final prep before stitching the two leg pieces back together -which she’ll have to use a lot of mineral solder to fill in the length of lost bone, but she has enough.
When one of the humans checks the injured one’s vitals, it says something to the others, and they relax some. She nods -a gesture she has learned is the affirmative for humans-. She looks back to her work, setting to the main task.
Within moments, she has the severed leg bound back together at the skeletal, vascular, nervous, and muscular levels. She’s obviously not an expert on human biology, so there may be some issues, but combat medicine is a matter of survival, and she will happily check on her current patient as many times as needed down the path. She’s just making sure this patient has a path to continue on.
While she’s stitching the last few muscle bands, though, a deep boom fills the ship, shaking her. It wasn’t quite like a weapon firing or impacting, given the duration of the boom. It lasted far longer than a normal impact would last.
She considers galactic phenomena quickly. Without her bond, her knowledge is far more limited, so she can’t think of anything at the moment. But, she never hears the term for Shining Daughters out of the announcing voice, and the alarm never changes to the combat alarm, which she knows well from her own battle with these merciful little mammals.
She quickly finishes her work, pointing at the blood and chattering at the humans around her. She hopes they understand. She would need time to synthesize artificial blood for this newly discovered species, and she obviously doesn’t have a stockpile of it. However, humans MUST be advanced enough to transfuse liquids. They outsmart more advanced empires for a hobby, it seems.
One of the humans gestures at its own forearm, and then to the patient. Again, Syretia nods. She hopes the message translated, but they’re a sharp species. She’ll trust them. She then sanitizes her hands, saying, “{I wish you could understand me as Kane does. Bring me more patients, and I shall attend to them.}” She walks past the guards, who glance at those helping the injured patient. The guards then jog after her, trying to steer her to her ship. But, she needs to find- there!
“{Grodurn! Grodurn, please! Help me translate! I need you to tell them I will help. Bring me patients.}”
The reptilian soldier in the hangar looks at her, and it bears its teeth. It’s preparing equipment for an apparent space walk, likely to repair whatever damage shook the ship. The Grodrrn growls something unintelligible to her, but it signs at her, “{Return to your containment, monster.}”
Not unexpected. The Grodrrns seem to be on rather good terms with the humans. But, she insists, “{I understand, but please tell them I will help. I am a medical Uniter Queen-...}”
The Grodrrn snorts angrily, and the humans speak to it. It grumbles to them, and they speak to it again. This time, it shakes its head in frustration, and then signs, “{Humans will not tolerate failure.}”
She nods, “{I will not fail. I will heal all I can. Let me help.}”
The Grodrrn waves her off, speaking to the humans in their language. It then moves its prepared gear towards one of the air locks where similarly equipped humans are ready to transition through the airlock to the outside. The humans speak among themselves, speak into radioes, and speak some more. Soon enough, they gesture for her to follow, and she realizes she’s making progress when they point out a spot in the hangar for her.
They're giving her a staging and triage area.
Her first patient is her patient from moments ago, helping and ensuring the blood transfusion goes well. She sets up the donor to extract from, and she checks vitals on both the donor and the patient to compare. Without baseline numbers, she’ll have to trust that one human is healthy and close to average, and the other -the known patient- needs to be close.
Announcements are still being made, but soon, foot traffic starts coming through the air tight doors. Humans are moving equipment, performing checks, and have repair tools as they move in every direction. And, soon enough, Syretia is receiving new patients; mostly concussions from the blast, but also a few human-induced injuries. She isn’t sure, but the injuries look like panic injuries, like the humans clawed, bruised, and otherwise injured each other trying to escape rooms in a panic.
Kane has mentioned that some -maybe even a heavy- portion of the human population is somehow distinctly different than the soldiers and crew members; ‘Non-military’ he called them. They lack the full training to stay calm in emergency situations, and have only the limited experience of their fleet leaving their homeworld to try to make up for that.
This fits what she saw during the battle; there were cowards, but there were also just the ones that didn’t seem to know how to react when they faced her soldiers, where the human soldiers mainly aimed and fired without hesitation.
Syretia is partially through setting a bone and mineral soldering it back together when Kane jogs up. She feels a welling of happiness that he, of all beings, gets to see her in action. She greets him, “{Carmine, I have tended to the most serious injuries first. Can you tell me what happened?}”
“{Noble Queen, I’ve heard. Are… you feeling okay?}”
“{Forgive my jovial mood, Carmine, but yes. I assume the gold was meant to help me achieve my goal?}”
“{That’s… correct. How did you know?}”
“{One moment, please. Tell them to set concussions over there, please.}” She points, and Kane looks. He translates, and the humans bringing new injured follow the instructions. She then answers his question.
“{The Chosen Queen’s prayer happened, and then my Sisters were questioning me. I was watching the workers stack crates near my ship, when the blast happened. My sisters are aware of it, so we must evacuate as soon as possible. But, during that time, some of the crates were placed closer to my ship, and… my bond faded. I could feel it. My sisters felt it too. They thought I was resisting, but I wasn’t. It’s very hard to resist, and I’m not experienced enough to even know how. So, out of curiosity, I investigated. And, I realized what your people must have; gold, our only fear, not toxic to us, but equally terrifying.}” She strokes her makeshift cloak gingerly. “{And, a precious, precious element.}”
Kane’s expression is soft and kind; she can’t tell by look per se, but she can feel the kindness. It radiates from him. He replies, “{We were hit by what we call a nebula bolt. A sort of electrical discharge from free radical-...}”
“{Free radical electrons and ions in a nebulous cloud. I see, yes, yes, that makes sense. Was another ship hit?}”
He nods, “{We diverted apart as quickly as possible, but this ship and another shared a massive and damaging arc.}”
“{We cannot delay. Regroup the fleet and evacuate. My sisters are aware that we are in danger, and most likely, in discord.}”
“{I’ll let leadership know. Thank you.}”
She nods, replying gently, “{Thank you for trusting me. I know it can’t be easy for your people.}”
“{Prove it’s worth it.}”
“{I intend to. Me. Myself. And, I love that feeling.}”
Syretia returns her full focus to her patients. A few vacuum injured patients come in. She takes pity on them. Vacuum injuries are not easy to treat. It’s an all over kind of ailment, and only has hope if the patient is retrieved to atmosphere within moments. Likely, too much damage has been done. But, she knows a little about treating mammals with vacuum injury, and the principles are similar for Shining Daughters.
She works her hands deftly, keeping an eye on patients coming in for serious injured that have more hope. It’s all she can do. She may be quick and efficient, but she’s still only a Medical Queen. She’s not a goddess.
Still, the surprised humans that receive her help seem to offer humble words, and she feels warmth knowing that her dream is coming true, and she’s getting the chance to help.
Maybe soon, she can help expand the army of this tiny fleet, and help them rebuild even faster. She doesn’t need or want to rule this fleet. She simply wants to learn and experience more of this independence that tastes so good.
***