Precious Cargo
"I know. They look like spiders."
I remembered those words as I slowly crept through the rubble and ash strewn streets - the fires burning not a thousand yards distant in this once great hive-city of the Alechar. Moving through the wide branching, great monolithic towers that splayed like great webs of steel, cable, and other materials, I made my way carefully, scouting ahead and looking for any of them that were left.
They did look like spiders, wolf spiders - with great, powerful jumping legs on their lower bodies, and their leaps could carry them six, ten feet into the air if they gave it a try - it certainly out-did us in the high jump department. A species of predator that had gradually evolved a cooperative territories, then to small tribes, nations, cities, and now planets. A highly individualized species as well - with room to hunt and prowl and roam. In this great hive-city, where a hundred thousand of them had roamed once, I came to understand them, as I had in my studies.
Like spiders, they had two great fangs - I remarked upon this as I crouched beside one of the bodies, and took a look at the face. Two great, jet black eyes stared at nothing, and in respect I reached and brought one of her great limbs forward to cover the greater eyes, even as the six smaller, slightly vestigial ones glazed and looked. Like spiders - they had the two great fangs that overlooked the odd, but musical mouth. They could speak through a raspy click and forceful exhale. I'd heard a few speak before , it reminded me of sandpaper on wood.
The heat of the night broke my focus and I hurried through my prayer, trying to drag her clear of the rubble - before noticing her entrails had been squeezed out in a messy paste. She had died painfully, I could see that - but even now I felt a thankfulness that she was at peace in the after. To die, crushed, your guts outside wasn't something I'd like. I said a prayer for her - and then continued on.
Walking past her and gently wiping the hints of her blood off my hand, I left her in the state of contemplation and moved onward - through the city with my radio crackling - telling of hot spots to avoid and where other sweeps were being conducted. This was a dangerous time and place for we volunteers - but like the name said, we had volunteered to be here, and to take this dangerous, bloody duty. Others did it out of superiority, or anger, or fear. I did it out of a sense of wanting to make sure things were done with respect. It wasn't easy - but I did the best I could.
The Alechar did have an easy to navigate walkway along the surface streets - it was mostly cleared of vehicles - except for the few that had tumbled from an upper level. A broken bridge up above showed that it was in danger of collapsing and I jogged out from under the debris range - wanting to avoid becoming a stain under a few dozen tons of steel and other alien materials. Looking at one of the dropped vehicles, I winced - seeing limbs strewn - it would be pointless to try and do anything for them now. A pierced abdomen was almost always fatal.
Movement caught my eye - and I turned, watching one of them creep and skitter into the shadows - a gleam seen as they ran from me - perhaps thinking I was as a terror to them. I called out - then was caught by the foolishness of the situation - the lithe, silver and brown male Alechar darted out of any pursuit range with ease. I let him go - feeling a pang of pity that I pushed aside. He wasn't a danger. No, I continued on - having a specific goal in mind as I rechecked my equipment - and made my way into the center of the town - looking for, and smiling as I found what I had been seeking.
The Crèche.
Of course, I wasn't entirely sure how this solitary predator had suddenly decided to have all of its eggs with another of its species together. Perhaps it was first done to instill that they should work together. Perhaps it was a mistake that remained, to build a bond between a rather disparate species in order to feel any connection to what was a fellow predator and threat. I didn't know - but it was common for the females of this species to lay their eggs in a singular area after fertilization (and no, they didn't eat their mates, I'm tired of hearing that asked), and they laid in large clutches - letting the eggs mix together, so that no one female could quite identify which was hers - and thus feel a kinship with all the hatchlings when they were born.
And they bore themselves in droves of two dozen at a time - a hungry, voracious group of younglings whom, at one time, would have devoured one another - but thanks to genetic alteration, and the instinct for species survival, had lead them to just avoid and scatter. Cannibalism was a terrible crime, as it was with us, and they didn't even do so to a fellow sentient, no matter how much they hated them.
Sadly, this protection didn't extend to humans for the first two learning years.
I made my way towards the crèche, and found the doors had been left open - another bonus for me. Inside, smoke and haze made me put on my breathing mask and activate the equipment - two bright lights shining from the edge of the helmet made the way a little easier to look through. There was no fire in this place, I hoped - and I was a little safer - as many of the Alechar fled from this section - hopefully after securing the young into a protective under-complex. If so, I was in luck - if not, I was not necessarily as blessed.
"This is Volunteer S15, Alexander Sullivan, I've located the crèche and am preparing to secure it. It looks abandoned and I am attempting to locate the eggs."
"Volunteer S15, this area has been deemed too hazardous, you are not permitted to go any further into the crèche. We are withdrawing from this section of the city, the fire is getting too close and spreading too fast. Evacuate now."
My radio died. Or maybe I turned it off and took the batteries out of the back of the case. Pocketing them, I pushed my way inside of the crèche with an intention in mind, and I reached for a chart - thankful that there was a map to read. Despite the love of high rising webbings and buildings, this building was the lowest to the ground - and given to a protective area around it so that, in the event that a building or walkway would collapse, it would fall away from this most sacred of places.
Smart spiders.
I walked through the entrance and into the crèche, and down the great looping spiral that made for an easy graded ascent into the lower sections - they had favored caves and built down into the earth as often as up. Though they were a species that favored leaping and jumping, there were always chances of injury - and it was prudent to make it easy for the transport carts to carry eggs down. I was glad for this, as I ran down - checking each room as I did and finding that my suspicions were correct, there had been secured below. They hadn't had time to get the eggs out in time, so had sealed them below. In most disasters this would have worked.
This wasn't most disasters.
Smoke asphyxiation was rather terrible for the Alechar, and I came across a wheezing form and curled body. Laying on her side, and struggling with a ventilation unit, she tried to catch another breath while laying in front of the great, sealed emergency chambers. She didn't notice me until I crouched beside her, and slid the ventilator down and hooked them properly onto her breathing spicules. She flailed a bit with the extra air, and I saw her fangs gleam, as she prepared to bite at me - perhaps thinking me a threat. While complimented that she'd have found me dangerous - I took care not to get into a fight during this mission, and reached over and into the kit on my hip. I pulled out a relaxing narco-stick, and pushed it between her fangs and into her mouth. She squeezed, an involuntary reflex, and crushed at the flexible tube - which released the relaxant into her mouth and sent her into a stupor.
She drooped, wheezing even as her breathing sounding a bit better. I then hefted her two hundred pound form up, and pressed her right forelimb into the scanner. The door opened with a faint woosh and click, and I drug her inside with me in a fireman carry. The lights inside of the creche turned from a faint, light blue into a brighter, warmer color. I carried her and set her onto one of the transport carts - she lazed and drifted off into merciful unconsciousness as I set about to my painful work.
The eggs were easy to gather, as I lifted them from their small grooves and set them onto a cart, beginning to work row after row and working at a rapid pace - I didn't have much time. I tugged another egg up and set it into the pre-set groove onboard the small transport, when a sharp jab went through my shoulder, and it took all of my strength not to drop the two pound leather egg.
"Step away." The voice, a raspy hiss, said, and I obeyed, moving quietly from the cart to look over and at the assailant, whom had bit me with one of the fangs. They did not have venom but they could puncture through a wood door if they forced it, so he had been rather gentle with me. In hand, he held a slug-throwing bolter, which would strike me dead center and kill me if he wanted to. He seemed confused - probably because I lacked a weapon on me, and wavered for a moment. "What doing in crèche?"
"Moving the eggs." I stated. He held the gun in his forehand, they having developed a hand like organ over their evolutionary process, and it showed up as a useful feature. I looked down at the limb, hoping he didn't feel the urge to shoot me any more than I did to empty my bladder. I hated having guns pointed at me. "Getting them somewhere safe."
He didn't trust me. I wouldn't have trusted me either. The Alechar didn't have much trust of things that weren't of their ‘webs', or so they called it. I couldn't blame him - I wouldn't want someone not of my family handling my eggs!
Chidlren. I meant children.
"Creche is safe." He said, his voice wavering with panic and fear - two conditions that this species didn't deal with very well. I licked my lips and took another deep breath from my mask - I could see a lower back limb was badly fractured, but hastily wrapped. As well, he was having trouble breathing in the smoke - which meant he was feeling weak and exposed.
Weak and exposed was the worst state to find an Aelchar at, muchless one carrying a gun. As apex predators it was a state they were not used to being in, and left them to getting unpredictable and violent, which they weren't prone to when they were in a more controlled situation. Hell, they made Buddhist monks look twitchy in comparison. This one was twitchy though. This was bad.
"No it isn't. The fire is getting too close, and it could do a lot of damage to this place. It's sealed, but not well enough to stop the fires. The eggs will die."
"No. You will die!" He lifted the gun up and gave an angry look, his mandibles spreading wide and showing me rather how deep they were. No wonder my collar bone hurt, he'd probably nicked it. I felt the pain radiating through my arm. "You die. You caused this!"
The gun discharged, as I leapt to the side and crouched behind a cart. The bullet hit a wall and ricocheted up, slamming into one of the light bars - shattering it. The lights flickered and I took a breath to steady myself. I didn't have a gun on me, and didn't think it'd be good to try and provoke him further. "No. I didn't cause this. Humans didn't cause this. Even the slimy bastards, the Yeanh, would do something this bad. We don't destroy cities." I would have growled these words but knew better - a growl would be seen as aggressive, aggressive would be a threat. A threat was bad. "Humans especially don't drop meteor storms over a planet and hope to hit cities. So put the gun down."
He wavered a bit, and I could see the confusion starting to run into his face - enough that I could stare into those big, strange black eyes, and see him try and piece this through. He was mentally deficient - perhaps it was why he hadn't shot me as I walked through the street and left me. I supposed that was good.
Yeah. In retrospect. That was good.
"Look, just shoot me, or help fucking help me. I'm getting these eggs, the female, and you out of here." I then turned myself back into loading a fifth cart - one which would be the last of the young and the eggs. The male wavered and slowly sagged - the pain of his crushed lower back limb and the smoke making him incoherent and a little less dangerous - especially after I took the gun. As I hadn't smashed the eggs, I suppose he had found me a little less worrisome.
The eggs, the male, and the female were easily loaded onto a vehicle - when I found one, and I slid into the seat that was built for someone with a far wider ass than I could have ever had. Looking for the controls, and even finding them incomprehensible despite my rough-shod training, I pulled my body up and reached for a switch - which turned the vehicle on and made it hum to a semblance of life. It wasn't voice automated.
Plugging the battery-pack back into the radio was an easy chore as I shook the passenger beside me - the brown male who breathed through a quickly grabbed breather. His words slurred, and his language was rough - but I hadn't been a xenospecialist for nothing. I tugged one of his fangs to get his attention, and he looked at me through those unblinking great eyes of his. He stared at me, then at the console and controls - then at the unopened doors. Big, unopened doors.
And a truck I didn't know how to drive.
"This is Volunteer S15. Does anyone know how to drive a transport truck?"
Static answered me. Never a pleasant sound.
"Do you know how to drive a transport truck?"
Brown looked at me then at the dashboard, then back at me - he pointing at a small yellow switch. I gave the top of his head a pat and flipped it, where the engine rumbled to life and began to hum - at least I had someone who knew what they were doing. I should have let him drive, but that didn't seem like a good idea at the time. Pressing the left side with my knee, and bracing my right foot against the dipping concave that made up the seat for their bulbous behinds, I pushed carefully and felt the truck rumble and shake, then slowly creep forward. Pushing forward, the vehicle rumbled and carried itself in a slow lurch as it built up steam - and the door groaned on ahead of me as it opened up. Automatic censors. Neat.
"That works."
Brown looked out at the damaged road - a surprisingly clear one compared to the ones I‘d walked through to get to the crèche, and I tipped the vehicle out - thankful for a still working system. The heat of the chemical fire had grown and I saw the embers in the distance, highlighting the horizon of the city in its infernal glow. I sped on, fighting with the steering control to correct the gentle left tilt.
Maybe it was my right foot on one of the panels.
"Why human help Alechar?"
That was the ten million dollar question, wasn't it?
There had been the first contact wars - there was always a war after first contact, an intergalactic dick-waving contest to see who had the biggest pissing range. We'd fought to a stalemate over a single dead world - which was used as a marker for our territories. The war had cost us six ships, and then seven - it had lead to thousands dead on either side that was really a terrible waste of time and effort. I didn't understand, or much like it - but it wasn't my choice in the matter, was it?
I hadn't been there for first contact - I'd only been ten years old during the event. I remembered watching the recordings of the battle (after careful public sanitation, of course), and the commentators running on and on about useless drivel that I, at ten, didn't want to know. And just as soon as it started, the war stopped, and we avoided that region of space for the next thirty years. We had a cool relationship - but they didn't antagonize us, so we didn't antagonize them. Fair was as fair gave and trade was slow but steady.
Then we watched a meteor shower hit one of their planets dead on - one that had come out of nowhere, despite all of the astrometry on both sides. I'd watched the planet as it was struck by the meteors and had taken my personal craft to a rapid called staging area - where a volunteer force of people had dropped everything to get together to assist. We were a rapid response brigade - people who trained for disasters on different worlds - sort of an informal red-cross.
Never thought we'd have to help out on an alien world, though. That wasn't on the training schedule. But, I came anyway and we hurtled ourselves at the boarder world - and landed with care near the outskirt of the city with what ships that could make a safe landing. And we did - crossing into restricted and dangerous space to land at the outskirts of the town, outfit ourselves, and head inside to try and rescue people.
Stupid. Foolish. Dangerous.
"Because we are humans."
It took fifteen minutes to get to the outskirts and the staging zone - where we had helped escort the survivors out of the rubble and ruins and see that they could be helped into transports - ours and theirs. It was fifteen minutes, and I arrived - to see a heavy armed contingent holding my fellow workers at gunpoint. I supposed that's the way it was - and way it would have to be. We had violated their territory, but it was alright. We'd done it for a reason that any human would.
Brown laid beside me, He was breathing steady, and had finally slipped into a less languid state now that he had an idea the eggs would be safe. He breathed shallowly, despite the pain and injury, I knew he would be alright. He wasn't bleeding out any more - and the filters in the vehicle took care of the smoke problem he had been working with.
I gave him a pat and turned off the vehicle - as they surrounded me and ordered me out - which I complied and pulled my body out - knelt, and was dragged away towards the others - whom had been restrained and left in place. There were a few dozen of them - but they were more than a match for us. They carefully extracted Brown from the truck and drug him towards the pre-set medical area and a few of them inspected his injuries. At least he'd get good care.
And I smiled - as I heard their exclamation as they found the eggs in back - precious cargo. A few looked at me, covered in blood and sweat and dirt, and then back into the truck with awe - and I think I heard a few prayers to one of their spirits and powers. I let myself smile - careful to avoid showing teeth, and looked back to the ground, feeling vindicated.
I had saved their young. I had risked fire and poison and danger to go into their most sacred place, the very heart of their community, and pulled their young from the lick of flames. I felt proud, for a moment, but mostly I was just glad I had gotten there in time. I had delivered to them a precious cargo.