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Future Sanctuary By Goliath Wildcat

Chapter 3: Magical Science

Commander Yamoti takes the human emissary on a brief tour of the Burning Wind, showing him the main deck with its massive longfangs and bustling crews repairing what little damage the Republic Raiders had done to the massive lodeship's armored bulk. She guides him to the railing and points to one of the six lodestone cradles spaced along each side. "That lifts the Burning Wind," she pantomimes wings flapping with her hands and he nods his head in understanding.

She points out towards the towering bulk of his crashed vessel, "What lifts your craft?" He seems to study her for a few minutes without understanding her question. She points to the crashed vessel again, once more making the pantomime of wings with her hands.

Understanding dawns in his eyes as he emits a long syllable and nods. Rubbing his chin with a hand, obviously trying to figure out how to explain something to her. He makes a snapping sound with his fingers and points to a small signal lamp as he jabbers a series of words in his native language.

She looks at the signal lantern, one ear quirked in confusion. "Now what could he mean by the light? Does light lift their ships into the air?"

The emissary reaches up to take the lantern down. Opening the small glass covering he points at the small flame inside and speaks again what sounds like only a single word.

Vorga clears his throat with a brief cough, "Commander, could he mean fire? We did see what appeared to be flames shooting out of the falling vessel towards the ground before it slowed."

Reaching into a pouch Yamoti pulls out a fire-stick. Flicking the end of the finger length piece of wood with a claw it flares into flame and she points to the tiny flame, "Fire? Do you mean your ships fly using fire?"

The emissary nods in response and points towards the distant crash site as he repeats his single word.

Putting out the fire-stick with a flick of her hand she again twitches an ear in curiosity, "I don't know how fire can lift their craft from the ground. Maybe he is trying to simplify it for us?"

Vorga grunts a quiet agreement, "Maybe Commander, just because we do not have such methods does not mean they don't. The alcami have suspected there must be other ways to fly then by lodestone. The flying beasts of our own world certainly don't use it."

She agrees with a flick of her ear, "Indeed."

The emissary is studying the series of panels that redirect the lifting power of the lodestones to control the mighty lodeship's movement. A tangle of cables and wheels lead through the ship and back to the bridge's controls where a single well trained pilot can direct the vessel's motions. He seems to be tracing the jumble of control cables by eye and something tells her that he's seen such complex things before.

"I wonder what he makes of our own methods," Yamoti wonders aloud.

She follows him across the main deck to one of the larger primary weapon mounts and reaches a hand up to gently stroke the squared barrel of the massive longfang. The crew around the gun back away at a wave of Vorga's tentacle before Yamoti can order it. There are quiet murmurs and puzzled growls as they comply and the robed Star Traveler turns to face her. Gesturing first to his eyes, then towards the crew area of the weapon, he asks for permission to examine the weapon further.

"Vorga, be sure the weapon is unloaded before we let him examine it."

The male flinches in brief surprise, "Commander, show an alien being our weapons? Is that a wise idea?"

She gazes at her guard out of the corner of her eye but keeps her voice level and without reprimand, "Vorga, do you think they need to steal our technology when they fight with light, fly between stars, and aim a handfang so deftly that a Swarm is nothing more than a minor nuisance to them? What could they truly take from us?"

He bows his head in subservience to her before he climbs into the weapon's armored compartment. A few clanks and thumps can be heard before he reappears and glares at the weapon's crew, "It was still loaded Commander."

She slowly turns to the cowering crew and levels a hard glare on them for a moment before turning back to her guard, "Cleared?"

A brief nod answers and she turns towards her visitor. "Have a look honored emissary," she offers with a brief bow and a gesture of her tentacles.

***

Chief Ward looks in the turret and waits for his eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. Metallic needles thick as his wrist and long as his forearm line a rack along the rear wall. Cranks are clearly visible at several locations and he takes a wild guess that they control the rotation and elevation of the turret's weapons. The breaches stand open and he leans in for a closer look down the nearest barrel. He sees tiny arrow shaped slivers of some dull material lining the inside of the square barrel and the secret of their railguns begins to dawn on him.

"I'll be damned," he mutters, "I bet that's the same material as the stones that lift the ship." Standing up he rubs his smooth chin, "I wonder if it's magnetic or some strange directional gravitational force." Stepping out he notices the blue furred female glaring at the crew of the gun again, 'Wonder what they did.' Leaping the short distance down to the wooden deck his thud of a landing draws her attention back to him. Pointing first at the gun next to him then at the large stones in their cradles he tries to convey his question.

Pausing while she contemplates his gestures she bows her head once in assent that the stones were used in the weapons. "I'll be damned, I bet their whole laws of science revolve around those stones," he mutters to himself.

She bows slightly and waves an arm and tentacle to guide him onward. They walk along the main deck and she points to various pieces of the vessel she thinks he will be interested in as her voice drones on in what he assumes is a description. But he doesn't need to know the words to identify most of the pieces and items around him. 'Who'd have thought all that reading of ancient sail era novels would come to my aid here,' he thinks with a mental chuckle.

***

Everyone on the bridge jumps to their feet at the growled, "Attention!" from the guard outside the door as Commander Yamoti escorts the alien into the cramped room. They ease slightly at her dismissive flick of a tentacle and a quiet, "Peace."

She watches the emissary look around the bridge as the Alpha Captain takes the few steps necessary to stand before her, "Commander, I must again protest. Showing this creature everything on our lodeship will give him a unilateral understanding of our weapons. We know nothing of his ship or his weapons other then the longfangs that emit light."

His lips curl up exposing his fang, "And the grave insult of him touching you. That cannot be forgiven, no matter the reason."

She looks down at him with narrowed eyes sensing trouble building in the air, "Captain, I would advise you to return yourself to calm. I am in charge of this fleet and you are under my orders."

She lowers her voice to a soft growl, "Do not make me remove your position and give it to Gati. You have served the High Mother your whole life and been a worthy leader. Don't throw it all away over some outdated tradition. He saved my life."

He blinks wide eyed at her for a moment before his eyes also narrow, "If it is a sacrifice I must make..." Before either she or the honor guard with her can react it is too late.

Alpha Captain Yaran slips a narrow dagger from his sleeve and into his palm as he lunges at the emissary with a roar of fury.

Chief Ward is studying the controls that a large black furred female stands at as he hears what sounds like a catfight behind him. He turns just in time to feel the mind numbing sensation of a mono-molecular edged dagger shoved into his chest and through a lung. Faster than even his own combat trained reflexes can react the dagger is yanked out and plunged again into his guts.

He grips the hand holding the dagger to prevent it being yanked for another stab as rushing adrenaline fuels his strength. With a vise like grip on the hilt of the dagger his other hand strikes out to shatter the wrist of the green furred male. As the numb fingers release the weapon he staggers backwards to put his back against a wall as he watches his blue furred companion and her red armored guard rip into what he thinks was the captain of the ship.

The red armored male easily restrains the furiously roaring green furred officer as the female roars orders loud enough to be heard back at the Maiden's Voyage. Her hand slashing his face with razor sharp claws as she slaps him. Another member of the crew runs out the door and the squat armored male that had been standing outside enters to stare confused at the situation. The other crew on the bridge simply stare in complete shock at the scene unfolding, unable to believe the actions of the Alpha Captain.

Reaching up with a bloody hand he triggers the alert on his headset and Captain Long's voice answers immediately with a worried, "What is it Chief, sounds like a catfight."

"Captain," he croaks out, tasting the metallic tinge of blood in his mouth. "I think my Lieutenant just got that promotion we were talking about."

"What wrong? Chief?" the Captain's voice frantically asks again as he hears the strain in Chief Ward's voice.

He gives a weak smile as he watches the red armored male pull the green furred one's head back and sink his long fangs into his throat and rip it out with a twist of his head. A bloody gob is spat onto the deck as the body of the former captain twitches and red blood pours from the neck as the honor guard continues to hold on through the death throes.

"I think she just repaid the service again." He feels the wall behind him slipping against his back as his legs start to weaken.

"Chief, report!" he hears the Captain roar.

"I think the former captain of this here vessel didn't like me touching her highness, whoever she is." He looks down to see blood seeping from under his hand where it holds the dagger, "He just skewered me, doubt you could even get a response team here in time to save me."

He can hear orders being barked in the background and the whine of a Hopper warming up for takeoff. "Chief you hold on there, I'm sending an armed response team. If they find you dead that whole fleet will follow so help me god."

"Captain..." he says in a tired voice, blood trickling from his mouth and leaving the hot metallic taste of it on his tongue.

The whine of the Hopper's engines rise and then dim with distance, "The Hopper will be there in minutes, just hang on. They're going to track you by your headset and should be there in time."

"Captain..." he tries again, a cough making him splatter blood down his front, his eyes focused on the hilt jutting out of his belly.

Captain Long hears the note of begging in his voice and pauses, "Yes Chief?"

"She didn't do it... She just... had him killed... She has been a good host... She hasn't done anything..." he responds fighting for breath to speak. "Don't blame them if I don't make it. We need allies... Especially if this is going to be our new sanctuary... Maybe this is the price we pay for that aid..." his voice trails off as he settles to the deck and a blue and silver form kneels before him. He looks up with heavy eyes that can't focus and sees her silhouetted in the sun outside the large windows of the bridge.

"CHIEF!!!" yells Captain Long over the communicator.

The Chief's voice is so soft the microphone almost fails to carry it to his Captain's ears, "Captain... She looks like a valkyrie of legend... She's beautiful..." he finishes with the last of his strength as his head tilts forward and blackness takes him into its embrace.

***

"Get a Mender immediately!" orders Yamoti as the young flag officer runs from the bridge to comply.

Stepping up to the struggling Alpha Captain she roars at him in a voice trained to command armies, her fur standing on end with fury. "You idiot! He had better not die cause of you!"

"All trash should die!" screams Yaran at the top of his lungs, his craze driving him with berserk strength.

Commander Yamoti slaps the Alpha Captain hard leaving red tracks where her claws dug into his flesh. "What are you talking about you foolish male?!"

The Captain continues to struggle in the grip of Vorga as he curses, "He defiled a member of the sacred family. All who do so must be purged from the land of the living. Only the Spirits can give them due judgment!"

He tries to extend a tentacle to grab a weapon and Vorga's jaws snap shut on the limb. Without a thought his fangs grip and, a jerk of his head later, tear the limb in half with a spray of red blood. With a screech of agony the green furred male tries to break free without even weakening the grip holding him. One of his flailing legs connects with Yamoti and knocks her into another of the officers on the cramped bridge.

Vorga doesn't even hesitate as he wrenches the former captain's head back and with a roar of anger bites out the throat of the struggling male. Spitting the hunk of warm and blood soaked meat on the deck he holds onto the struggling corpse waiting for it to know its dead.

Turning from the dying Yaran, Yamoti kneels in the growing pool of blood around the emissary. "Dear Spirits no..." she mewls in fear seeing the pale skin turn white with the pallor of death. She tries to stem the loss of vital fluid from the deep chest wound with her hand as her tentacles try to determine how bad the damage really is.

"Where's that Mender I ordered?!" she roars to no one in particular.

The male at the distance viewer twitches his ear at a distant and high pitched whine and turns to look, his jaw falling open in shock as he points and lets out a whimpering mewl of fear, "Honor Lead Vorga!"

Vorga lets the now cooling body drop in the pool of its own blood in disgust as he looks up to see the gleaming metal craft speeding towards them and his eyes go wide, "Spirits of Air, how do they know?"

Yamoti orders with a menacing growl, her fur bristling again with rage at the insult of the former Alpha Captain, "Get the rest of my guard and clear them a place on the main deck. Anyone interferes, kill them!"

Vorga doesn't waste time with a salute as he turns and roars loudly for the other guards to follow him, bowling the stunned guard at the door over and into a wall without a care.

Yamoti mewls in fear and panic, not only the failure of her mission from the High Mother, but the life of someone who saved her being lost to such an out dated tradition.

Looking up at a hand on her shoulder she sees the ruby red pelt of a Mender as the female kneels beside her, "Mistress?"

She has only one order to give, "Save him."

The Mender bends to her task. Her shoulder tentacles reach out and with trained care pull the offending weapon from his gut as her hands try to staunch the flow of blood. "I don't know if I can Mistress. He has lost much vital essence and he is alien to my skills."

"Do what you can Lifae, if he dies we might all soon join him." Looking up at the closing metallic shape she shivers in fear. 'This was not as easy as I thought it would be,' runs through her mind.

***

Seargant Pulle stands in his drop harness as he watches the red light over his head with steady eyes and speaks to his men with determination clear in his voice. "Captain says retrieve the Chief if possible. Don't kill unless we have to."

The red light goes from steady to flashing. "Soon as we find him I want Doc to evaluate him for mobility immediately. We can't be sure what we're dropping into. The last report we have is that there has been a misunderstanding. But I want everyone back alive."

"Sure thing Sarge," comes the drawled answer from the squad's medic.

As the light goes green he thumbs a trigger and the six man squad drops from their bays and freefall towards the large flying ship. Twenty feet from the deck their anti-gravity harnesses slow them to a feather landing in a tight circle formation, each man's gun pointing outward for threats. The few natives on the deck are backing away in obvious fear at their arrival with hisses and mumbled sounds.

The Sarge triggers his mic with a click of his tongue, "We're down Alpha-one, circle and be ready for extraction, this point."

A line of red armored natives come out of a doorway and two of the security team snap their weapons up in reaction. The red armored natives halt, forming two lines as one more runs forward and kneels in front of them. The Sarge's energy rifle pointed right between his furry brows without a blink. The native bows and makes motions for them to follow as he jabbers in their native tongue.

"Fireteam-three, wait here and secure our landing zone, one and two with me. I think this native wants us to follow him." The four men stand and follow the red armored native as he guides them in the direction of the Chief's communicator.

***

The Mender curses softly, "Without vital I will lose him, he is losing far too much."

She curses silently as a probing tentacle tries to find where all the blood is coming from. "I don't know how he's still alive. A hardy race they must be."

"Can you use mine?" Yamoti asks in a quiet voice as she pulls off the armored bracer covering her left forearm.

Lifae looks up at her with a questioning look, "Mistress..."

"Spirits above, it's my fault he's like this! I hesitated and he saved me. Because some old fools think that's against the will of the Spirits he's been wounded."

Her blue eyes look into the blood red of the Mender's. "I want to make it right, my honor demands it," she whimpers to the crimson female.

The red female hesitates before giving a small nod, "The components are similar enough, I might be able to use our vital to stabilize him."

She reaches a tentacle towards the Commander's arm, a wicked looking barb extends and slashes a small cut in the blue furred forearm that flows with blood. "Hold your arm near his wound and let your vital mingle with his. I will try Mistress."

"I know," answers the soft voice of Yamoti in the hush of the bridge.

***

The four humans are escorted to the bridge where they find the Chief unconscious and a nearly nude red furred female working on him. They just catch the brief interaction as the Commander puts her bleeding arm near the bleeding chest wound. "Doc, get in there and scan him pronto."

The team medic lets his short rifle drop to hang from its sling as he pulls a portable scanner from a leg pouch. Rushing forward he exposes the chief's arm and attaches it with a well practiced motion. He sits back on his heels as he watches the scanner's results appear on the inside of his visor.

"Massive blood loss, punctured lung, perforated colon... My god, the chest wound nicked the..." He turns to look at the Sergeant, "Sarge, I don't know how, but they're healing him!"

The squad leader frowns in concern where his face is visible below the reflective visor while he asks, "What the hell do you mean Doc?"

"The scanner showed a small slice in the heart, almost certain to be fatal. The next pass showed it smaller. Now it's gone."

Turning his head back to the wounded Chief he looks over the pair of females. The red furred one's breathing is growing raged as sweat starts to drip from her red feline muzzle. "I think it's her."

"How is that possible?"

Doc shakes his head, "I don't know Sarge, but I think it's best if we let them keep doing their thing. I got nothing that would have saved him in time."

"I better call the old man," mutters the Sergeant as he changes frequencies.

A small visual of Captain Long appears in the corner of his visor, "Did you get to him in time Sergeant?"

"Sorta, sir," he replies with uncertainty.

"Explain," orders Captain Long with a scowl.

"The natives appear to have started medical aid on him, sir. Doc says if they hadn't he wouldn't have survived. Doc wants to let them continue."

There is a pregnant pause as the Captain's image pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sergeant, use your best judgment." The image looks up again, "Was there any hostile action towards your arrival?"

He shakes his head despite the fact the Captain can't see him, "No, sir. Most of them seemed scared stiff but a red armored native and his cohorts guided us to the bridge and the Chief, seemed rather insistent that we follow him in fact."

"Alright, stay with the Chief till he can be safely extracted. Alpha-one will set down wherever she can on that vessel and be ready to dust off when you need to get out."

The Captain leans forward in the image, "Be careful, I don't want another of these incidents."

"Yes, sir!" he barks before the link is cut.

Looking at the other two members of the squad he gives them rapid hand gestures to spread out and keep their eyes open.

***

Vorga twitches in nervous apprehension at the alien weapons in the hands of the black armored soldiers. "Commander, let me take your place," he offers in a quiet voice as he turns back to Yamoti.

"No," she answers with a fierce growl.

"But Commander..."

"I said no Vorga, this is my honor at stake here!" Her flashing eyes glance up at him and he straightens to alertness. "Prepare the former captain's cabin for our guest. If he survives he will need to stay here while he recovers so the Menders can observe him. They might have similar structure to ours, but there is no knowing how his body will take our methods."

She returns her gaze to the wounded emissary, "Spirits preserve us if this doesn't work."

Lifae suddenly cries out and her hands fall away from the emissary's body. The wounds are scabbed over but look healthier than they should so soon after the attack. "He... will... survive..." she gasps out and falls sideways into the arms of the black armored alien kneeling beside the emissary.

He catches her and looks between Lifae and Yamoti as if unsure what to do. His eyes hidden behind the strange reflective masks that leave only their mouths visible would show uncertainty. The leader of the warriors grumbles some orders in their guttural language and the alien warrior stands with the red felinoid still in his arms.

Vorga comes forward and motions for the warrior to give him the limp form of the Mender. The black clad alien hands her over and Vorga bows slightly before turning to his Commander. "Commander Yamoti, the quarters will be ready in minutes. While they are prepared I will take the Mender to her quarters where the others can tend to her."

The blue furred female nods in agreement and jabs a tentacle at one of her female guards, "Maoni, help the Honor Lead make Lifae comfortable and then stay with her till she recovers. She might have done a far greater service than we can repay today."

The young female guard bows her head in response and follows Vorga out of the bridge.

The leader of the alien warriors kneels next to the emissary and speaks softly to the other black clad warrior. They converse for several sub-segments before the leader stands and holds his weapon across his chest, obviously defending the wounded comrade. "He will not come to any more harm if I can prevent it..." she whispers as her head hangs in shame towards the warrior.

She catches a slight nod of his own head in response and she waits for the dispatched members of her honor guard to return.

***

"Sarge, we've got a space clear enough for Alpha-one to land. I hope this thing can handle the extra weight."

Pulle sub-vocalizes into his communicator, "Tell them to be careful setting down, if it looks like there is going to be a problem wave them off."

"Aye sir," responds the private on the deck.

Pulle turns slightly to look out the front windows of the bridge at the slowly approaching Hopper. The black furred female at the helm calls out with a reassuring tone in the natives' growling tongue as a few other members of the crew show a mixture of fear and elation. Inch by inch the small hopper eases space on the deck near the center of the vessel cleared by the red armored warriors. There is a minor shuddering as the hopper's skids touch and a quiet creak of the deck's timbers taking the strain. With a wave of the security officer's hands the pilot kills the engines to idle for a minute before letting them sink to quietness.

"Good job Alpha-one, you really do know how to land where your fellows fear to tread," Pulle jokes to the pilot of the hopper.

"Stand down Angel, and get some rest. Doc doesn't want to move the Chief all the way back to the crawlers till he's sure whatever the aliens did to him is going to be sufficient."

"Copy that Sarge," comes the pilot's soft female voice, "I can use the rest. I'll bunk out on the fold out bunks in the hold till you need me."

"No problem Angel, I think we're going to be here a little while at least."

He brings his attention back to the felines as the blue furred female growls out what sounds like a few orders before she turns towards him and bows her head slightly and purrs a few soft words at him with lifting gestures towards the still unconscious Chief where he lies on the deck covered and pillowed on pieces of uniform from the crew of the bridge. Then she places her hands at the side of her head and in a strangely human gesture lays her head against them.

"You want to move him to someplace he can rest?" the Sarge asks realizing how stupid he sounds since the aliens can't understand him. "Go ahead," he mumbles and steps aside but flicks the safety off his rifle just in case.

The female waves forward with one of her tentacles and four of the red clad warriors step forward and using both their arms and tentacles lift the Chief with gentle care and keep him level as possible. The four humans follow closely as they carry him out of the bridge and down the corridors.

All characters unless otherwise stated are the intellectual property of Chris Gilman [aka. Goliath Wildcat] Story © Copyright Christopher Gilman 2009 all rights reserved tell me what you think