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Ch22 Blood

Blood

As it turned out, Alice had followed Alwen into the restroom discreetly and ambushed her as she was washing up. “So, what do you think of him?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

Alwen thought for a moment, she looked into the mirror and gazed into her own eyes, searching for an answer she already knew “I think if he had asked my mother for my hand back on Torwen I wouldn’t have objected. I think a year ago I would have settled for him and continued on as a glorified nurse back home. And if he had asked me out when I first joined the ship I would have been alright with him.”

“But…” Alice said when Alwen paused again.

Alwen cringed “But I am a different person from then. He is everything I wanted from a partner and now those qualities sort of… grate on me now.” She said it like she wads admitting something shameful. When she had joined on she had silently sworn to herself that she wouldn’t change after living with pirates. But over time that goal had become impossible to keep, the energy and attitude of her new friends was just too infectious.

Alice stared at her, “So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know, how do you let a human down gently? I doubt giving him a fish hook would send the same message.”

“Fish hook?” Alice’s eyebrows shot up in confusion.

“It’s a polite and traditional way to let someone down, its like that fish in the sea metaphor Terrans use. I know some people who like to collect them as badges of honor.”

“And that works?”

“Sometimes, it’s from an old sailor’s superstition about finding a good partner, it’s a common literary trope in trashy romance novels.” Sometimes explaining the culture she had naturally grown up to the Terrans was stupidly hard.

Alice accepted what Alwen said as alien strangeness and plowed on “Well if you ask me straight forward is the best way through. Just go out and say this was fun, but I’d like to stay friends.” Her tale was flicking back and forth mischievously.

“And that’s how humans do it?”

“Oh saints no, us Terran females are notoriously cagey and hard to understand. Which is why he’ll never expect the straight forward and honest approach, he’ll just think ‘this is how its done on Torwen’ and leave it at that. Hopefully.” Her grin broadened, “and if not you’ve got a pub full of marine friends who can tell him where exactly he can shove his hurt feelings.”

“You sound too experienced at this.” Alwen challenged.

“Not me personally, I’ve only ever been with one guy and that breakup was hard and messy.” Her tail settled down; a sign that Alice was growing uncomfortable.

“Alright, I’ll try it your way” Alwen said as she finished washing her hands and walked out of the restroom. She searched the room and saw Sean sitting patiently and waiting for her return, not knowing that it would bring disappointment. She had been so preoccupied with figuring out what she going to say that she didn’t notice that she had strayed in front of a dart board until a knife wizzed through the air just a fingers width away from her face.

. Alwen let out a sharp “Eeep” as she stopped dead in her tracks and backed up a step, though backing up now was completely pointless. She grabbed the knife out of the board and examined it. It had a wicked edge and a finely polished wooden handle; looping waves of rippling Damascus steel drew her eye as a shadow fell over her shoulder from a tall and humanoid figure.

“Sorry Bones” said the mysterious figure behind her. Alwen jumped and turned to see Wraith had snuck up on her, his bronzed figure dwarfing hers. He always joined them when Alice dragged Alwen out for a night of drinking, but never drank more than a single beer. He usually spent his time tossing his knife while keeping an ear to whatever they were talking about. Today he wore some pieces of his dark blue armor mixed with his casual robes, a strange mix that somehow worked for him. The front if his simple robes was done in a way that left part of his toned chest open, and Alwen saw that he had the mark of Astaroth surrounded by swirling wave like tattoos that made the seal less notable. Hiding the mark of his pirate allegiance in plain sight.

“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up in my own head.” she blushed as she stared through the open folds of his ocean patterned robes.

He cocked his head “what were you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“Giving my date the hook.” she muttered.

He chuckled, and lowered his voice conspiratorily, “I take it that’s a Torweni saying for dumping someone?”

“Yeah, our history was tied to nomadic sailing so most of our phrases come from that maritime heritage. Its kind of strange considering most civilizations start on land then move to sea in the galaxy.”

“Its not so strange, until a few hundred years ago most of my ancestors lived and died at sea or on some tropical island.”

“I thought you were from the American people, like Alice and the twins?” She had never actually asked about his heritage, but he got along so seamlessly with the other American marines that she had just assumed he was one of them.

“Sort of, America was a very multicultural place, most Americans have a second heritage. I’m from a small set of islands called Samoa, once the seat of a great maritime confederacy. We got annexed by America, and weren’t allowed to be American citizens until the mid-twentieth century. English is technically my second language, not what I was raised to speak with my family. I get along so well with Alice and the others because I was apart of our local marine veterans chapter, we all grew up the same way.”

“Marine chapter, I thought marine was an English word for raider or pirate?” Alwen asked, confused about the way he used the word. Could you be raised as a raider, that didn’t seem right.

“What, no” he spluttered, finally showing a crack in his usually implacable dark demeanor. “Marine means water. People who work on the sea are mariners, and a harbor can also be called a marina”

“So marine is just someone who works on a boat, like that other English word, sailor?” Alwen was confused now, she had grown to believe that marines were an organized force, not just any fisherman or sailor.

“Ah no, ugh this is really hard to explain to an alien” he groaned “Marines were an old branch of the military, they defended ships from boarders and would lead amphibious assaults, and a lot of other stuff too. Here look at this”

He pulled up one of his sleeves to show her a tattoo on his chiseled bicep. The first one was a circular symbol that vaguely resembled the shape of the two American continents that stretched from north to south and firmly divided their planet’s oceans. Set behind the map of the Americas was an odd-looking anchor, though it might look normal for Terrans, with a bird perched on top triumphantly. Below that was an inked image of several island with the words ‘Tutuila Base’ above them.

“Before Earth joined the Union we were forced to rapidly disband all our armed forces, most did so without question, but America resisted the order for a while. Eventually, even the once great American military was forced to disband. But before they did so President Franklin gifted a lot of the old miliary bases to local veterans societies and secured a promise of funds from the Union. After the Union took over we kept to ourselves and kept the old fires alive and well. Training, discipline, and education, we even took in orphans. As the Union slowly stopped properly policing communities, we took over that as well. We’re like the core of civilization across the old territory of the US, we’re the police and fire departments, we arrange community events, and keep the peace. We’re who the Martian lawmakers talk to when they want to pass new regional laws. All the old military bases communicate with each other, share information, help fund struggling bases, do joint exercises, and we exchange members to help out other communities in trouble. First sign of a gang war, or a major disaster and we can have boots on the ground in hours.”

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“And you went from local sheriffs to space pirates?” Alwen was still very confused. On one hand he was talking about how they acted as the glue that bound society together in the lack of real government. But on the other hand Alwen knew that the ship’s marines were the trained forces of lethal violence that carried out acts of piracy for the Astaroth. It didn’t match.

He grimaced “the mission outgrew the funding. We don’t receive the support we need to keep the peace; the Union likes to take credit for the work we do and pretend we don’t exist. And if we stop doing our jobs plenty of good people will get hurt. The captain earned our service after she promised to send funds and weapons back home.”

“So Astarte gets trained troops to commit acts of piracy, and you get support for your pseudo local governments.” Alwen stated, finally linking the two disparate ideals.

“Yeah, and plus we get to act like the real Marines of old. Tutuila is better off than most places, and I just wanted to put my endless training to good use and get off that island. And if my work helps out the other chapters, that’s good too.” he said rubbing the back of his head.

Alwen wanted to keep talking, but she knew that she shouldn’t put off dumping her date. “Well as interesting as that all is, I have a man I need to dump, as you Terrans call it. Here’s your knife, try to keep it away from my head.” She flashed him a friendly smile as she passed his knife over to him. “Maybe we can talk more about your ‘marine base later.” She said.

“Yeah that wou-“ he stopped abruptly as a high pitch whine of pulse fire filled the room, he jolted suddenly as if struck from behind and slumped into Alwen’s shoulder and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Alwen gaped as she looked over his shoulder and stared at the half-melted remains of his dark blue armor plating and stared into the gaping hole in his back.

Alwen heard a roar from behind her “We’re under attack” as Alice charged forward and flipped a table, though it wouldn’t do much about the heavy pulse fire flying through the room.

Alwen set Wraith on the ground and desperately reached into her med kit for bandages, hot tears blurring her vision. “It’ll be ok, it’s all fine, you’re fine.” She gasped through stuttering breaths as her heart kicked into overdrive. Wraith firmly gripped her hand, and she was forced to look him in the eye as he bled out, she looked into his eyes and knew that he was going to die, and he knew it. He pulled at her weakly and she obeyed as he placed a light kiss on her lips and pressed the handle of the blade into her chest

He slumped back and chuckled to himself “I've wanted to do that for weeks.” he muttered softly as the last breath left him.

~~~*~~~

Pain, fear, shock, anger, rage, hate, emotions flashed through Astarte’s mind until a cocktail of natural human combat drugs like adrenaline, serotonin, and endorphins. Her heartbeat quickened, her vision focused, and the pain faded into the background. She felt the range of her thoughts narrow and streamline as instinct and training took over.

Status: blind in the left eye, sore all over.

Why: the grenade was a simple concussive blast they were usually the safest to use on enemy ships, the only fragmentation was from broken furniture. Maybe some hit her chest, but she felt no pain there, so it wasn’t worth checking.

Who: Eggads ambushed her in an enclosed room far away from any station security.

Problem: she was cornered like a rat, with enemies flowing in, likely armed with guns and more grenades.

Solution: violence.

Overwhelming violence, that came at them faster than they could see or comprehend.

Astarte considered the room and decided that there wasn’t enough room for Tenken, so instead she gripped her wakizashi, crouched down and launched herself to the side with tensed deathworlder muscles. There was a creak and groan of metal as the station hull bent beneath her power. She moved to the side of the smoke and rushed the side of the first reptilian creature she saw, a blinding flash of her blade removed its head where the skull met the vertebra of its long neck, it was so fast you would have missed it if you blinked.

The partner of the first alien then trained its gun on her, a heavy repeating pulse cannon, the kind that would melt through station wall and bulkheads. It moved as fast as she did, as ambush predators Eggads could match humans for physical reflexes and reaction time, it made them dangerous at a distance. Which was why she closed the distance and used her greater strength to throw it into the other Eggad that had trained its weapon on her. It tried to twist midair like a cat, but lacked the lithe feline spine to do anything more than flail as it crashed into its companion.

Now she had a single second to see how many were there. Ten in total, two tangled together, four that had swept for the other side of the contact’s opulent room, two in the center now turning toward her, and two more covering her exit.

Astarte made a snap decision and rushed forward to grip one of the center Eggads by its absurdly long neck and flung it into the two covering her exit to confuse them and rushed for the other. It tried to back up and point the heavy cannon at her, a single shot could have meant the end of her. But she moved faster than its trigger finger; a slice of her blade cut three clawed hand from its arm, the hand and the gun it was holding fell to the ground. A second slash and she bifurcated its neck.

Astarte wasted no time in reaching the group of four Eggads. She was rage and death incarnate; she was a storm of hate and steal and she did not pity the terrified fools before her. Even as a foul sect of their fear assaulted her nose. Four slashes and they were dead as their ugly thin green blood coated the walls and her blade.

Danger prickled on the back of her neck, and she dropped to the ground as a bolt of energy flew over her head.

She rolled over and saw that the tangled pair of Eggads had gotten themselves figured out and were trying to pin her down with gun fire. A quick acrobatic leap and she was back on her feet, crouching low. She glanmced around the room and saw only one way out of their line of fire. She tensed her muscled and with a leap she kicked the ground and breifly ran along the walls. Eggad necks were very adaptable and could turn easily, their Komodo dragon like bodies didn’t have the same versatility. They held their guns in their left hands and she had run to their right. She kicked off the wall and used the momentum and her advantageous angle to hack through both of their bodies in one spinning slash. It wasn’t a clean kill, she had cut them through their backs and didn’t quite get all the way through, but sliced organs, a broken spine, and massive blood loss made sure they were out of the fight and not long for this world.

From where Aster now stood she had an angled view of the exit and saw as a second concussive grenade came through. She gritted her teeth and rushed forward and switched her grip on the blade to knock it back through the door using the flat of her blade like a baseball bat. It just barely made it through the door before it burst and the terrified shrieks of panicked Eggads were abruptly cut short with a bang. She rushed for the door and used the smoke to hide her movements. Of the three, one had caught the force right in the chest and was now scattered around the exit and very much dead. The other was struggling to get up, it’s head waved back and forth like a leaf on the wind from its concussion, she stabbed it through the back and skewered it to the ground. She tried to find the third only to realize too late that it was lurking in her brand-new blind spot on her left side. It had lost its gun and instead gave into instinct and struck for her exposed neck with its fangs. Her neck felt hot as it pierced skin, hot pain from its venom caused her to grimace, but that was it. The pain of it paled in comparison to a bee sting or cobra venom, both of which she experienced at a young age.

The offender in question however instantly seized up and began to shiver violently as her Hellish blood entered its system. In pain it clamped down harder rather than let go and began to shake violently as if in seizure. Astarte gripped its neck and relished as its bones broke under her hand, its fragile and shale like silicate bones completely inferior to her grip strength. It shuddered as she broke its neck with one slow squeeze. Now lacking any life its vise like jaw went limp and detached from her neck. Hot blood flowed down her shoulder and soaked her in thick red Terran blood, but she wasn’t worried about that. She knew from the experience she had gained from countless battle that wound that small would clot shortly.

She searched the area for any more enemies, she saw none nearby but that didn’t mean there were some hiding out somewhere. Without hesitation she dropped off the shear ledge of the maintenance tunnel and landed solidly on the catwalk thirty or so meters below. Under normal gravity that would have killed her but under galactic standard all she needed to do was lightly bend her knees. She began to run through the twisty maze of maintenance tunnels and sent a com to Karega

He was breathing heavily when he picked up “They try to ambush you as well?” he said without preamble. She heard shots in the background.

“Yes, I’m fine, what’s going on at your end?” she asked tersely.

“I was out on deck when an RGP hit, now we’re repelling boarders. I’m on the bridge trying to get our people back to the ship but there’s been attacks all over the station. People are panicking and SS are making things worse by shooting at our people as well as the Egh’ahds.” He reported.

There were people not trapped on the ship, that was good “Give me the location of the largest group of people ashore.” she ordered.

“Umm… that would be Alice and twenty others at the IRA.” he replied, after a second he added “They’re embroiled in heavy combat right now.”

“I’ll make my way there. If you can’t get people safely aboard, group them together and tell them to hole up and hunker down. This is a full-on gang war Kar!”

“Star, what are you going to do?” he sounded concerned.

“Counter boarding, I’m going to rope up those marines and hunt down that slime ball Ah’ared, and he’s likely safely aboard his ship. Watching the carnage like a coward.”

“You’ll only have twenty people and no guns, are you sure about this?”

She thought for a second “No. I want you to send a few spare marines, guns, and ammo, my way. Make sure you stick Kate on there and have her bring her Weevils, lots of them! I’ll send you our location when I’m ready.”

A pause “Yes Sir” he said stiffly, obviously he didn’t agree. But she didn’t care, they attacked her and now they needed to die. He was raised amongst mansions and country clubs on Mars, he didn’t know the brutal swift violence a gang war called for, not like she did.

~~~*~~~

Karega sighed, which hurt his broken ribs. Bachir had already relocated his shoulder and wrapped bandage around his chest tightly but that didn’t stop the pain, not this soon after he was flung nearly off the deck. If it hadn’t been for Highland grabbing him before he went over then he might have be dead right now.

He and Highland had been chatting pleasantly when the RPG, or what ever the Egh’ahd’s called them, hit the deck. Now the Bosun was leading the charge to push the invaders off the ship. Roaring about their slimy green blood staining his deck. Chief Heizer was at his side roaring angry German obscenities.

Despite the fierce fighting, Karega was more worried about Astarte. Highland had taught her at a young age that when someone broke her nose she needed to their legs, that she needed to show everyone exactly what happened to her enemies. Her permanent record with the New-Mombasa police listed bitten off noses, clawed out eyes, broken bones, and permanent scars of Astarte’s baby teeth. All that illustrated a little girl who fought like a deranged wolverine. Eventually people got the message that tussling with her only brought disproportionate amounts of pain and avoided her like a wild animal.

That mentality never left her as she entered adulthood, likely due to joining a real cutthroat band of pirates when she was only fifteen. It had been helpful back then, but now Karega feared it would lead her into a fight she couldn’t win. She couldn’t just maul anyone who attacked her without one day meeting a foe she couldn’t best. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t stand the idea of losing her, nor could the Hellworlders recover from losing her. And then their whole seven-year crusade of piracy would be pointless and amount to little more than an old legend.

“Stay safe Star, you crazy, crazy, bitch.” He muttered.