Ultimatum
The tense and likely epic space battle ended with little help needed on Alwen’s part, she and Bachir had spent the whole time prepared and ready to receive patients for treatment. And when the action was over, and no one made their way to the med bay she and Bachir went right back to their research. Some days were like this on the Astaroth, just endless down time. It felt wrong to her sometimes, but after a month of wandering the decks looking for any potential injuries and finding nothing she had accepted that sometimes nothing went wrong, or that the crew was really good at hiding cuts and scrapes.
So now she had followed in Bachir’s example and attended to her research whenever the chance arose. They were on attempt number 41 of their blindness prevention drug, attempt number 40 had left her sick for days after it had accidentally annihilated the bacteria in her intestines. It was lucky Bachir had thought ahead and grown small colonies of the vital bacteria beforehand, otherwise who knew how long it would have taken to recover.
He had developed the bacteria samples to see if the genome shifting ability of Torweni life could be adapted into a reactive and adaptable version of his Panacea to fight the ‘common’ cold. Which was a catchall term used for the over two hundred viral strains that resulted in an upper respiratory infection. The common cold wasn’t deadly to a healthy Terran, but when it jumped the species barrier and infected non-deathworlders it killed thousands within days of exposure.
Terrans had to get multiple painful shots that resulted in much more severe symptoms than the actual cold to keep other species of the Union safe. Stations like Femeri or Parox pumped an aerosol version through its ventilation to inoculate the whole station to the deathworld diseases, while giving the Terrans runny noses and sore throats for months after first exposure. The body did eventually get used to the spray, but only after several years, and the earlier the inoculation was introduced in a Terran’s life the easier the transition was. But for people just going off world it was a painful process.
After nearly three Terran months aboard, the disease hadn’t jumped species and infected her, primarily due to the facts that the normally vicious and deadly pathogens had no way of dealing with the utterly weird and bizarre nature of Torweni bacteria. It couldn’t out compete it and died off swiftly, and her own native bacteria and viruses weren’t strong enough to effect the frankly psychotic Terran two factor immune system. So trying to cross hybridize the two different pathogens might result in a revolution in medical science and pathology, or so they hoped. So far the results were inconclusive.
She had just swallowed the pill when there was a banging on the lab door. Alwen looked through to see that Alice, still wearing her armor from their recent mission on the Kruhur station, was waving at her through the glass of the sealed lab franticly. Alice was always a bundle of chaotic energy after missions, something to do with the insane levels of adrenaline that was released into the Terran bloodstream during battle. An amount that would have been lethal to her own system, and a biological feature almost entirely exclusive to deathworlders.
“I think she wants your attention” Bachir rumbled wryly. He had a soft sense of humor that was very endearing.
Alwen rolled her eyes and pressed the intercom button that let her talk to Alice without leaving the sealed environment. “What?” she asked.
“It’s movie night, we’re feeling ironic” she said bouncing on her toes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re watching Pirates of the Caribbean and drinking lots of Rum. Ya in?” she asked with a grin that exposed all of her pearly white fangs.
Alwen had heard the Terrans mention this particular classic film series many times over her time aboard, and had to admit she was curious how classic Terran pirates compared to Torweni pirates. They had made her join every one of their movie nights so far to teach her about classic Terran culture, and they had only just gotten through the Star Wars movies. All seven trilogies made over the course of more than two hundred years, a lot of them were really good, great even. But the last trilogy had been very boring compared to the others, how did they manage to create boring space battles when they had actual spaceships and lasers to work with?
“Yeah, just let me finish up” she said before turning back to Bachir.
“We’re just about done here, it would be good to test it under normal conditions” Bachir said, subtly giving her permission to go without actually saying it was okay.
Alwen cleaned up and repacked all the dangerous and exotic materials they were working with, washed her hands thoroughly, and left the lab through the green decontamination field, and then left the med bay with Alice arm in arm to the ships communal rec room. The over-sized couch was jam packed with over thirty marines and ‘apes, with several people sitting on another person’s laps and shoulders. She sat on what the Terrans called a ‘love seat’, it was supposedly meant for two people, but they had somehow configured twelve people into the poor chair. She sat on Isabela’s lap and Alice curled in on herself and rested her head on Alwen’s lap. Alwen buried her hands into the fur on Alice’s back and scratched between her shoulder blades.
Alice let out a low yawning moan “Oh ‘Bones, if only you were a man” she teased.
Wraith prodded over on silent feet “Room for one more?” he asked softly.
“We can make some room, if you go get us some popcorn” Isabela said from beneath Alwen and Alice.
“Alright, show of hands who wants popcorn?” he asked, hands shot up around her, some just barely poking out from under the tangle of limbs, and he counted under his breath. “Any for you Alwen?”
She shook her head, the grease and salt of popcorn made her stomach grumble, and the kernels somehow latched onto the back of her throat and drove her mad.
“How about some street tacos?” he asked.
“With hot sauce?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course” he chuckled as he went to the side table Adela had packed with food. She turned and watched him go and Alice whined as she stopped scratching.
“Should I be jealous?” she asked conspiratorially.
Alwen flushed and turned back “Jealous of what” she said, a little too fast to be innocent.
“Oh my saints” Isabela gasped “You like Wraith” she whispered into Alwens ear.
“I, I,” she sighed “maybe a little bit” she said softly.
Alice lifted her head off her and arced around to look at Alwen “Really, what changed. Last I figured, you weren’t into the idea of dating us pirates” she teased.
“I never actually decided against dating pirates” she shot back defensively “but after Sean asked me out I couldn’t help but look at everyone in a new light. It’s like dating and sex wasn’t an option until he asked me out.”
“No offense but Butch has made a move on you like, every time she sees you.” Alice quipped.
“Yeah but that’s just Butch being Butch” Alwen said, she had long ago secretly learned the double meaning behind Adela’s nickname.
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“OK, fine, so what about Wraith attracts you? What made you look at him and think “hm, I would hit that’” Alice said in a mocking appropriation of Alwen’s voice.
“I don’t sound like that” Alwen muttered under breath.
“Yeah Alice, you need to make breathier” Isabela quipped. “But yeah, I want to know to. I mean he’s ripped, but so is everyone else. What about him specifically?”
Alwen cocked her head to the side and turned back to watch as the stoic back of Wraith watched the popcorn machine do its work, he stood solid and didn’t shift from foot to foot, nor did he give the machine anything less than his whole attention. At least not until the figure of Gato prowled to his side and began to chat with Wraith.
“I don’t know, he’s got this sort of intensity, he’s quiet but thoughtful, and there’s a sort of grace to him.” She said slowly.
A muffled man’s voice guffawed “please, I’ve seen him jump onto a chair when he saw a spider” came the buried voice of Gabe.
“Can you even see the TV down there?” Isabela asked her brother, who was evidently at the bottom of the human pile.
“No” came his muffled replied and people began to shift to let his head out of the cushions.
“Besides, Alwen has seen you burp the alphabet in English and common, your not allowed to throw shade” Alice teased, once again resting her head on her tail.
“Actually I thought that was impressive” Alwen said to Gabriel reassuringly. “Look its nothing, I’ve already got a date with someone else, we’re going to that fancy restaurant on Femeri”
“The one-armed snipe right” Gabe asked?
“Yes, his name is Sean” she reproached.
“Man, I swear those snipes are more metal than flesh” Isabela quipped, Alwen elbowed her.
“So you’re not gonna make a move on Wraith then?” Alice asked as Isabela began revenge poking Alwen.
“Not until after I go out with Sean, he actually asked me out, so I owe him that. Besides he seems smart and kind.” She said, now squirming under Isabela’s attacks. They only settled down when Wraith returned with a mountain of greasy, salty snacks in hand. After that Isabela’s hands were then too busy jamming in as much popcorn as possible to even bother pocking Alwen.
There was no more talking as the lights were dimmed and Alwen was introduced to Earth ‘golden age of piracy’.
~~~*~~~
The approach back into Femeri was tense, their law offices back on Parox had assured Astarte that the station security had nothing on them, and were still reeling from the legal bitch slap they had received for that polished plate fiasco. Still she couldn’t help but be a little nervous, and she couldn’t help but internally grumble that they wouldn’t need to be nervous if the captain of the Coiled Strike hadn’t fucked up her job. Massacres drew attention, attention she didn’t want.
She was only coming back so soon because the contact had sent her a message saying he had a very lucrative job for her. That, and the ships date at the Polished Plate, after how hard everyone had worked to earn that reward she couldn’t cancel just because she felt nervous.
The station tower accepted her transit code and assigned a berth to the Astaroth. The bridge let out a collective sigh and slowly edged the ship into its space. The SS could be planning to nab them as they left, but that would have been foolish of them. The tight corridors and narrow cause ways would have worked to the Hellworlders benefit if it came to an engagement. That still left the possibility that they would try something with them once everyone had fanned out across the station.
“Kar, out of a sense of caution spread word to all crew who are going ashore. Travel armored and armed, try to move as large groups. That ought to make the SS think twice about nabbing my crew” she instructed to her executive officer.
“You only want an excuse to go to that fancy restaurant armored, I swear you’ll do anything to avoid wearing fancy clothes” he grumbled. He loved dressing up, and never got used to wearing his armor. He said it felt strange to walk around dressed like an ancient samurai, despite the fact that none of the aliens would know the difference between a samurai and a templar.
She smiled, “Maybe”
As they maneuvered into a berth close to that ridiculous glass ceiling she got a good look at a familiar ship berthed down in the lower sections. The Coiled Strike. She glared at its almost serpentine shape until she got a fantastically evil idea “Hey Kar, I think I’m going to go for a little stroll in the stations bowels, arrange some shadows for me please.” She said sweetly as a malicious grin spread across her face.
He followed her gaze and soon mimicked her grin. “I’ll call Alice.”
~~~*~~~
Astarte strolled through the twisty narrow roads of the station’s lower levels, the levels where deathworlders tended to make their home on Femeri. It gave the place a rough reputation, but by her own standards it was downright inviting. Especially for her purposes.
Not even five minutes into Astarte’s little stroll before she began to pick out a set of wet sounding “thwaps” as six or seven Eggads began to tail her. Maybe they were silent and stealthy to their own ears, but to her trained urban senses they sounded clumsy. These creatures evolved into apex ambush predators on their home world, their mottled skin and rotten smelling musk helped them hide in the undergrowth of the swamps that covered most of their planet. But in a sterile urban setting like a station they stood out like sore thumbs. Especially the smell, it was like roadkill and unwashed bodies slathered in rotten eggs.
She idly wondered if her Terran senses would have been able to pick them out on their home-world just as easily, when she turned a corner to see that the opposite end was blocked by three Eggads. Their bodies were a smelly cross between Komodo dragons and black mambas, they disgusted Astarte and sent a shiver of revulsion up her spine. She didn’t mind snakes or their brethren on earth, in fact she was the kind of person that thought snakes and spiders were cute. But there was something wholly wrong with these creatures before her.
She turned to walk back out of the ally only to see that exit was also blocked by five Eggads wearing combat harnesses around their upper torso. They weren’t fond of clothes, but they couldn’t snub the utility it offered, especially when they drew hidden pulse pistols out them.
They fixed Astarte with their black crocodilian eyes and she almost gagged when saw their second clear eyelid slowly slide across. They kept their heads and long necks close to the ground looking up at her, standing on three legs as they used the fourth leg/hand to train their guns on her. She heard a throaty hissing sound as the five slit apart to let a sixth through.
This Eggad wore a gold tiara or crown that fit perfectly to its angular skull, marking it as their leader, Pod captain Ah’ared. “Well, Well Agtarte, a plegure to meet you” it croaked in its slimy voice, a cross between a croaking toad and a cat coughing up a hair ball. Common had been designed to be spoken by all creatures, no matter what mode they used for speech. But Eggads had an iconic inability to pronounced S’s, which she thought was ironic.
“A plegure to meet you too” she said, mocking his impediment.
It made a hacking sound she knew to be its form a laughter, and despite the utter alien nature of the sound she could hear the coldness in the mirthless chuckle. “Ah bravado, you humangg are ‘oh full of it, but I know ig all blugter. You deakworldergg all break so egilly”
Aster’s eye twitched at his almost incomprehensible accent. Rather than respond she reached into her breast pouch and drew a slim cigar, she struck a match off her grieves and lit it.
The captain twitched in anger and drew close to her, raising its triangular head level to hers. “You have been coging me problemgg, you’re taking out my buyerg and are making it hard for me to do bidneth.” It’s face was inches from Astarte’s, and she could see the outline of his scales. She took a drag off her cigar and blew the acrid smoke in his face. Eggads had a notoriously bad sense of smell, but the sharp tang of the smoke made it pull back and coil in on itself.
“It was quite brave you to only bring nine men to try and corner me. Or quiet stupid really, you core-worlders really don’t know what we Hellworlders are capable of. You’ve been so far from the front a galactic expansion that you forgot why you named us Hellworlders in the first place.” She said before taking in another drag.
Ah’ared recovered and gurgled in its throat, it’s version of a growl or a hiss. “You Hellwordergg arnt t’o tough, we have caught plenty Terrand.”
Aster chuckled “Oh yes I heard about that, how did you like my little surprise for you on that last ship.”
It coiled back and unhinged its jaw and showed her it’s very snake like fangs, a show of rage. She had gotten word from Arachne that the internal miniguns had worked wonders against the borders, and whenever their position got over run the napalm had done its job. Now they just had to figure out how to deal with the lingering scent of burnt garbage from the burnt Eggad corpses.
“That wag you? I lotht two hundred men to thoge gunth, only to be burnt alive.” It croaked with intensity. It stepped forward with force and looked like it was coiling for a bite against her neck
“Ah, ah, don’t forget what happened to your lieutenant. Our Hellworld blood is cyanide and arsenic to you.”
It restrained itself and regained whatever its version of composure looked like, she couldn’t tell one way or another. “You are trouble, trouble to me and my freindgg. I will offer you a choigge. Leave our buyergg alone, and digarm your gkips. Or elthe ”
“Is that an ultimatum? I love ultimatums! Here’s one of my own” she made a two-toned whistle that made the serpentine xenos around her cringe in pain as the shrill sound assaulted their ears. A second later she heard the hiss of metal and watched as the Virtues emerged from their hiding spots and placed their blades to the long necks of the pirates. Sussuro and Sombra dropped from above and placed blades to Ah’ared’s neck in a scissor shape. A new scent filled the air around them, something akin to a skunk’s anus. It was an overpowering defense mechanism meant to scare off predators, and right now it told Astarte that these aliens were scared shitless.
They actually thought she had gone for a long walk in the stations bowels without any sort of backup. It seemed stupid to her that they didn’t even consider the chance that she was leading them into a trap. Their arrogance as core-worlders blinded them to the trap. And that attitude pissed her off.
“You and your companions are cutting into my business and are hurting my profits.” She said growling each word with furry. “Orion is MY territory, you either clear the fuck out or I will burn you so badly that you won’t be able to find a safe port anywhere in this galaxy. I have friends and connections you couldn’t even dream of in that little head of yours, we will annihilate anyone who dares to do business with you. The code says nothing about touching your buyers, it says nothing about hunting your home worlds. It says nothing about me making your life a literal living hell, so long as I don’t attack you personally. And if you dare fight back, then I and the entire Confederate fleet will tear you limb from limb. I will mount that ugly crown of yours on my wall and turn the rest of you into a belt. Fuck, I might just open up a new line of exotic leather purses made from your hides.” She spat out, all her frustration over the trouble these pirates had caused her filled her words with a venom more potent than what they could naturally produce.
She didn’t wait for their response, she just snubbed the burning tip of her cigar in Ah’ared’s flank and marched out of the alley, the marines falling in behind her without giving the stunned enemy pirates a second glance back.
~~~*~~~
Pain and rage blinded Ah’ared, the stupid back water Hellworlder had actually dared to lead him into a trap. How had she even known he would follow? And not only did she lead him into a trap, she dared to insult him so gravely. They would pay. They would learn why Captain Ar’ared had been raiding, slaving, and pillaging the core worlds longer than any of her crew had been alive
“Oo’orought!” he snapped in his own tongue.
His second in command stepped forward smartly “Yes Sir”
“Summon the fleet, anyone who can get here within four standard days” he ordered, and his subordinate obeyed without question. ‘Let’s see how those Hellworlders handle Six thousand of my best men. We’ll paint this station red with Hellworlder Blood.” He thought with grim satisfaction.