Distress

Three weeks later:

Plodding slowly through the vast expanse of space, Colonial Marine Battalion Charlie 7 came into view. On the Bridge of the lead ship, the Alighieri, a lone figure sat staring unblinkingly at the monitor at her station.

"Rowan?" came a voice over the intercom. "Are you there?"

"Martin," she sighed. "I am always here. Is there something you need from me or are you just trying to keep yourself entertained?"

"No," said Martin. "I am just checking in with you as per the regulations of our duty-log. Is there anything to report?"

"Nothing really," replied Rowan. "Out here there is very little commercial traffic and even less communication. This job is boring."

"Such is the life for us Synthetics," said Martin in a cheerful tone.

Rowan rolled her eyes. "If this is your attempt to try and cheer me up," she began. "Don't bother. I don't have emotions to cheer."

"We all have emotions, Rowan," said Martin. "Some of us just have more than others."

Suddenly, the external communications light began to flicker and a beeper went off signaling that the Alighieri was receiving a communication. "I have to switch you off, Martin," said Rowan. "We're getting a signal."

"Out here?" said Martin. "From whom?"

"Let me answer the communicator and I'll find out," said Rowan as she put on her headset. "I promise I'll talk to you when I'm through."

"Very well," said Martin.

Rowan switched the internal communicator off and flipped a few switches to turn on the external communicator. "This is Colonial Marine Vessel Alighieri," said Rowan. "We are receiving you, over."

"Alighieri this is Major General Franklin Blake," said the voice on the other end. "We have a situation on one of the outer colonies and Charlie 7 is the closest Marine presence in the vicinity, over."

"General Blake," began Rowan. "Our field commander is currently in hypersleep as Charlie 7 is currently headed back to main base for repairs, restocking, and re-staffing, over."

"Wake him then!" ordered General Blake. "Call me back once you have. General Blake out!"

Rowan sighed as she clicked off the external communicator. "Shit," she said as she removed her headset and turned on the internal communicator. "The boss isn't going to like this one, Martin."

"Something wrong, Rowan?" asked Martin.

"Yes," said Rowan. "Wake up Lt. Colonel Barrin."

"Is it serious?" asked Martin.

"Martin we have no time," snapped Rowan. "General Blake wants to talk with him ASAP."

"It's serious," said Martin. "I'm right on it."

With that, Martin went over to the control panel for the hypersleep freezers and tapped on the screen. Cycling through a few menus, he finally found the one he needed and gave the panel one final tap. The display on the panel signaled its compliance and began the awakening sequence for Col. Barrin. Knowing that the whole process would take a few minutes, Martin went to the mess hall to make a cup of instant coffee for Col. Barrin when he was finally up and awake. Once the coffee was ready, he returned to the hypersleep chamber and could see Col. Barrin stirring. Smiling he walked over to the freezer and looked down at the drowsy leader of the Alighieri's Colonial Marines. "Rise and shine, Colonel," sang Martin. "I have coffee for you."

"Where are we?" asked a dazed Colonel Barrin. "Are we at Gateway?"

"No, Colonel," said Martin. "You've only been under three weeks."

"What?" said Col. Barrin as he sat bolt upright and banged his head on the edge of his hypersleep pod. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Careful, Colonel," said Martin with a smile. "Accidents happen when you rush. Coffee?"

"Gimme that!" said Col. Barrin as he snatched the coffee cup. "Why have I been awakened early?"

"Rowan has that information, sir," said Martin. "It would appear that Major General Franklin Blake would like a word with you specifically as soon as possible."

"Aw fuck!" swore Col. Barrin as he sipped on his coffee. "That's never good."

"Begging your pardon, sir," interrupted Martin. "But aren't we supposed to now be on leave?"

"Yes, Martin. We are."

"Should I therefore wake the others?"

"No, not yet. Let me find out what the General wants before you go through all that."

"Yes, sir."

Col. Barrin finished his cup of coffee, handed it off to Martin, and went to his locker to get his uniform on. He knew that something bad must have happened if he was awoken prematurely like this.

When he was ready, he walked up on the Bridge to where Rowan was sitting. "Send the call, Rowan," said Col. Barrin. "Then vacate the Bridge."

"Yes, sir," responded Rowan as she put on her headset, pushed a few buttons, and flipped a couple of switches. "This is Colonial Marine Vessel Alighieri to Home Base. We are requesting permission to speak with Major General Franklin Blake. Repeat, requesting permission to speak with Major General Franklin Blake, over."

There was a crackle from the other end. "Please transmit authentication code, Alighieri, over." said a voice on the other end.

"Zulu Tango Victor Bravo," responded Rowan almost instantly. "Over."

"Roger," spoke the voice. "That was Zulu Tango Victor Bravo, over."

"Affirmative," said Rowan.

"Authentication confirmed, Alighieri," said the voice. "General Blake will be in contact with you presently, over."

"Thank you, Base," said Rowan before removing her headset. "All yours, sir."

"Thank you, Rowan," said Col. Barrin as Rowan removed the headset, stood up, and held it out to him. While her attention was still mostly on the monitor in front of her, Col. Barrin silently took in the sight of her face. Then he took the headset from Rowan's outstretched fingers with one hand while at the same time he caressed her cheek with the other using the backs of his fingers. This tender gesture returned Rowan's attention to him and she met his gaze with her own. "I dreamt of you."

Rowan smiled weakly at his statement and broke eye contact. "Thank you, sir," she said as she moved off and headed for the door. Col. Barrin said no more, but merely watched her as she left. Only when the communicator beeped to signal to him that the General was on the line and ready to talk did he look away from where she had gone. As he did, a sorrowful smile crossed his face for a brief instant. After taking a deep breath to steady himself and clear his thoughts, he sat down at the station, put on the headset, and stared into the monitor at the General.

"You sent for me, sir?" he asked.

"Sorry to wake you, Colonel," replied General Blake. "But we have a situation that requires Charlie 7's immediate action."

The young Alien warrior awoke inside its dark sanctuary. The time had come for its birth. Wriggling about to gain its bearings, the warrior encountered something hard just above its head, blocking its exit. After gauging the toughness of the unknown hard substance, the warrior opened its tiny outer mouth to reveal its inner one. The first quick strike with its battering ram-like tongue caused the hard surface to begin to give way, the second strike even more so. Now the unknown obstacle was damaged enough that the warrior could break through. With all of its might, the warrior buffeted the obstacle with its arms and head. Though it did not give way with the first blow, the second proved far better and the entire head of the warrior emerged into full view of its fellow warriors. They watched on, to see if the youngest among them would have the strength to free itself from its gestation place. With precise instinctual movement, the young warrior was soon free. Looking around at the others the young warrior let out an inhuman squealing shriek, signaling that it was ready to join the others in serving the Queen and the Hive.

"(Master,)" spoke a member of the Bridge crew. "(The Humans call out for aid.)"

The Hunt Master's mandibles clicked happily. Things were progressing as planned. "(General,)" he said to his counterpart. "(My Keeper and your Guardian need to proceed with their duties.)"

"(Where should they create their Shrine?)" asked the General.

"(In this structure,)" said the Hunt Master as he poked a claw into the holographic display. "(Here is where the least Humans reside and where their warriors keep council. Taking it will provide us the greatest of tactical advantages.)"

The General move closer so to see where the Hunt Master was indicating. His mandibles clicked as he allowed his mind to play out the scenarios that would unfold before his Soldiers. He could already see that though this was the smallest of all the main structures on the planet it still had many entry points. Defending it from invaders would not be impossible, but certainly not easy. Pressing a button on the display, a more detailed analysis of the building came up before him. Most of the security technology that the Humans used was accessible from here. Taking this building for the Shrine would render them almost blind. That prospect pleased him. Pushing one more button, he could see that only five Humans still occupied the entire building. His chosen Guardian of the Hunt could easily take them by himself without the need of assistance from the Hunt Master's Keeper of the Hunt. However, he knew very well that such would not be reality as tradition dictated that both needed to go to set up and secure a Shrine.

"(Very good,)" he said at last to the Hunt Master. ("This structure shall provide a most sufficient setting. I am pleased with your choice.)"

"(I am honored by your approval,)" said the Hunt Master with a slight bow of his head. Then he turned to face a young warrior. ("You, go summon the chosen Keeper and Guardian.)"

The warrior clicked his acknowledgement and moved off to follow his Hunt Master's orders. A few minutes later, the chosen Keeper and Guardian strolled onto the Bridge. By the standards of his race, the Keeper was not very old. The two top teeth of his mandibles were heavily rune etched. The skulls of his two most prestigious Hunts hung proudly from the left side of his belt. On the right side of his belt hung the ritual runed hunting knife that identified him as a Keeper. Next to him stood the Military Guardian. Unlike his counterpart, the Guardian wore a heavy suit of armor that covered all but his head. He had an old deeply set scar on his face that started at the left side of his forehead, went diagonally down across his clouded-over left eye, across the entire length of his face, and ending at the lower portion of the right side of his face. Finally, all four of his main mandible teeth were etched with runes. Both of them considered their Elders for a moment before bowing their heads to them respectfully.

"(The time has come to begin,)" said the Hunt Master. "(This is where you will set up and secure your Shrine for this Hunt.)"

The Keeper looked intently at the image on the screen, his mandibles clicking as plans formed in his mind. The Guardian gave it a casual glance and then looked towards the General. The General gave him the subtlest of gestures with his eyes for him to return his gaze to the display, which the Guardian did. The next few minutes's study of the structure on the display passed in complete silence. Only once the two of them were certain of the layout of the structure did they return their gaze to the General and the Hunt Master.

"(Are you ready to begin, Falthor?)" asked the Hunt Master of his Keeper.

"(I am, Master,)" said Falthor with a deep bow of his head to the Hunt Master.

"(Excellent,)" said the Hunt Master as he gave his Keeper of the Hunt a slight bow with his head.

The General looked sternly at his Guardian. "(Zathot,)" he began. "(Are you ready to begin?)"

"(I am, my General,)" said Zathot as he gave the General a head bow that still maintained eye-contact.

"(Do not fail me, my Guardian of the Hunt,)" said the General as he returned Zathot's head bow, also maintaining eye-contact.

"(Go now the two of you to begin this Hunt!)" said the Hunt Master. "(Have a successful Hunt!)"

Zathot and Falthor acknowledged the Hunt Master's words by each throwing up an arm and letting out a loud battle cry. When they were through they grabbed up their helmets from the display setting and strode purposefully from the Bridge. Once they were gone, the General looked to the Hunt Master. "(You make an interesting choice,)" he said. "(Falthor is the youngest of all the Keepers in the Clan. Are you sure that it is wise to appoint him to such an important task as this?)"

"(This Hunt tests not only the skills of its Warriors,)" said the Hunt Master. "(But the skills of its Keeper as well. Falthor knows this. He will serve me well on this Hunt. Of course, I could ask you your motives in choosing your progeny as your Guardian of the Hunt.)"

"(You may ask if you wish,)" replied the General.

"(Very well,)" said the Hunt Master. "(Why did you choose Zathot?)"

"(I chose him,)" began the General. "(For the simple reason that he is my greatest Guardian.)"

"(And the fact that he is your progeny does not factor into your choice?)" asked the Hunt Master.

"(Never,)" growled the General. "(Zathot has been given nothing because he is my own. His every honor, his every reward, comes from his merits and not from the fact that I am his father.)"

The Hunt Master considered his counterpart carefully. Then his mandibles clicked and he let out a satisfied chuckle. "(My apologies, old friend,)" he said. "(I simply needed to be sure. I meant you and Zathot no disrespect.)"

The General bowed his head. "(Your cause for concern is not unwarranted,)" he said. "(This Hunt is a most important one and the slightest error could result in its disaster.)"

Meanwhile, down near the launch pad, Falthor and Zathot were preparing a Shrine for transport. After a few minutes, Falthor broke the silence and said, "(Do you sense the tension?)"

"(I do,)" acknowledged Zathot. "(I do indeed.)"

To be continued…