The Ursan-Ursan. Within, they are a proud, noble people with a long and storied history. Without, they are a brutal and callous collection of tribes, consisting of butchers and killers. As a result of fighting for the losing side of a Ctarl civil war centuries ago, the peoples of the Ursan-Ursan were exiled to an ice moon orbiting the Ctarl homeworld. There, the tribes quickly fought over the scarce fertile territory near the equator, surviving against the treacherous fauna and vicious rival tribes, developing a culture of hardiness and savagery. Upon the beginnings of the First Ctarl-Terran War, largely a series of skirmishes over the resources of border worlds, the human empires of Tempa and Einhorn deployed various measures that threatened to break through the battle lines of the planet. In response, the ruling dynasty of the Ctarl-Ctarl lifted the ancestral exile of these savage Ursan-Ursan warriors. The months-long siege was broken in a matter of weeks, and for the first time since their galactic expansion, the humans sued for peace. Since then, the Ursan-Ursan have usually functioned as either bodyguards for Ctarl nobles or traveled the stars as bounty hunters, their seemingly brutish nature belying their instinctual cunning and berserker-like ferocity.
Chapter 17: Kitty Love
A small puddle of drool began building around Rukko's face. He grasped his war-maul with both hands as his legs began to kick during his dream of tracking down another ice leviathan. Cassandra continued her brewing, doing her best to ignore the snoring. Losing her patience, she lifted a capsule of smelling salts out of her satchel and tossed them right under the nose of the passed out Rukko.
The warrior awoke with a startle, kicking himself to his feet in a moment while looking around. "…Where is she?" he asked.
"…The kitten rests with her companions. They await destiny in a few hours," Cassandra explained.
Rukko sat on his bottom as he pondered the last few events he could remember. After the Ctarl had broken free, she had made her way to the bazaar level of the ship, tearing it apart as she tried to demand where Solomon had taken her friend. By the time Rukko caught up with her, she had leveled half the marketplace and was about to be surrounded by some of the heavy gunners. Rukko intervened, they fought, and that was largely what happened until both their bodies were peppered by tranquilizers.
Rukko looked around the room. It was covered in various runes, symbols, and tattered passages from ancient tomes of whatever antiquity. Cassandra was an obnoxious yet vital member of the Rev's Horde. Someone had to keep the crazies in line when threats wouldn't quite do the mark, and her genuine talent for magics had proven handy for more than a few desperados.
"…How long was I out?" Rukko asked.
"…Time is relative, warrior," Cassandra chuckled. "Its flow is subjective, beholden only to its witnesses as it dares to be process…" Rukko growled. "…Four hours," Cassandra rolled her eyes.
"…Have the fights started?" Rukko asked.
"The Rev's destiny is scheduled for noon," Cass stated, referring to the Dredholks internal clock, in the absence of planetary statuses.
"So, she's still alive, heh?" Rukko grinned. He jumped to his feet. "I never thought I'd get me a mate this far into Terran space."
The old crone looked at him. "…Perhaps she has other concerns than joining you in your den? The fate of her family weighs heavy on her mind, perhaps?"
Rukko scoffed. "She's a down-on-her-luck aristocrat. That blue mark on her cheek notates a "noble" upbringing, high on the rungs of "proper" Ctarl society. And yet here she is, slumming around with Terran vagrants!"
"You have so much in common," Cass muttered.
"I know!" Rukko stated, cheerily. "The Empire wants nothing to do with either of us, so who would dare oppose a union between a Ctarl and an Ursan?"
"She would," Cass stated, flatly.
"Well, then, I suppose we'll just have to approach this with Ursan courtship guidelines," Rukko grinned. "If she don't want me to touch her, she don't let me."
Cass gazed at him, her expression unreadable.
"…Fine," Rukko deflated. "You want the truth, I admit it. I'm lonely. I'm tired of leading these apes into fights I know I'll win. My best friend is someone I gave up trying to kill. The Saurians don't understand why I do things and the Lorgans give me the creeps. I'm tired of being alone, and… I think she is, too."
"…To woo her," Cass began. "One must provide something she seeks. Sometimes, it is stability. Other times, excitement. Romance is often a fickle thing, my dearest Rukko."
Rukko began stroking his chin. "…We've never even been able to speak. How would I know what she wants?"
"You've just answered your question!" Cass exclaimed. "Getting her voice back is what she seeks! Giving it back to her would put her in your debt, and you know Ctarl hate to be in one's debt!" she grinned.
"Very funny," Rukko snorted. "So, you can heal the shreddi-gup wounds?"
"I cannot," Cass shook her head. "…But a concoction I can brew can soothe the throat and mend the wounds. Granted, it usually takes three months to brew with the ingredients I have on hand."
Rukko rent his claws through his scalp in frustration. "Not to worry, though. For just such an occasion, I did go through the recipe and began brewing it. Last I believe, it has been roughly two months, three weeks, six days, twenty-three hours, and fifty-eight mi-"
A timer dinged over another cauldron. "Well, there we go!" Cass exclaimed as she sank a leathery draught into the muck, filling the skin as she passed it to Rukko.
Rukko glanced at her, suspiciously. "…You planned this," he muttered. "You knew in advance she was coming?"
Cass looked away. "…Though prophecies are not things to take lightly, I will confess to sometimes peeking in should it fetch my interests."
Rukko glared down the old crone as she put her wait on her staff. Suddenly, and without warning, Rukko lunged for the old crone, pulling her in the air. He started laughing.
"And all this time I just thought you were some creepy old whackjob! Why didn't you tell me you just wanted to be my wingman?"
"The future is not something to take lightly!" the crone tried to get out. "Not to mention that like a river, time is never exactly fixed in a single directioOOF!" she tried to explain before Rukko dropped her on the floor.
"Cass, you're the best, you hideous, beautiful woman!" Rukko proclaimed. "…So, how soon until I score?" he asked with a mischievous grin."
"…The silent blade approaches, the greatest trial…" Cass tried to explain.
"Ah!" Rukko held out a hand. "…Don't tell me. Keep that part a surprise!" With that, Rukko left the crone to her own devices.
"…It was a pleasure to know you, my friend," Cass regarded the warrior with solemn sincerity. "May the gift I have provided you anchor you for the fight ahead. I wish upon you all the fortune I shall not receive."
Melfina sat on the couch as Suzuka practiced her stances, while Aisha focused on calisthenics, and while Harry sat immobile by the wall. Gene was with her, counting off his caster shells as he muttered to himself. "Those damn wizard shells are looking pretty good about now. One #4 should be all I need to put that bastard out of commission for good. Too bad we aren't anywhere near Tenrei, but with the six I got on me now…"
Melfina snaked her hand onto Gene's. He looked at her and saw the emergent tears in her eyes.
"Hey," Gene lowered his voice gently. "We're going to get out of this. I'm going to blow that bastard's head off and we'll be out of here less than an hour later."
A lump formed in Melfina's throat.
"…We're going to find Jim," Gene put his gun to the side while he took both her hands. "I promise you. When this is all over, it will be nothing but a setback. We'll all be together in the end, I promise."
Melfina broke her eye contact. She took a few quick, deep breaths before finally pulling her lips to Gene's ear. "…Solomon promised me I could save one of you."
Gene was clearly taken aback by this. "What?!"
Suzuka and Aisha both dropped what they were doing, turning to the two lovers as Melfina felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Harry sat immobile; apparently not even registering something had happened.
"…When I was with Solomon, he offered me a deal. If I pick one of you, we'll be able to leave unharmed," Melfina got out.
"And the rest of us?" Suzuka asked.
Mel buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. I should have told you all earlier, but I didn't want…"
"…You didn't want to turn your back on anyone," Gene finished.
Tears poured down Melfina's cheeks. "After everything all of you have done for me, I could never live with myself if I betrayed any of you. But…"
"If we all fall, you will be left alone," Suzuka added, morosely.
"…I can't save Jim by myself…" Melfina sniffed. "…I didn't have the courage to stand up for any of you when I tried to shoot the Rev."
Suzuka recoiled in shock while Aisha bristled. Gene grabbed Melfina and pulled her close. "Melfina, it is our job to protect you! You shouldn't put yourself in a position where someone can hurt you for our sakes! We can defend ourselves!"
"Can Jim?!" Melfina cried. "If I pick one of you, we might have a chance at saving him! But if I leave any of you behind…" she covered her face. "…How can I look him in the eyes?"
As Melfina sobbed into her arms, Gene looked over to his partners. Aisha looked away, not wanting to see her friend upset. Suzuka cast her eyes down. She took a deep breath and finally stated. "Melfina, pick Gene."
Both Gene and Melfina were shocked into stillness. The room was so quiet they could hear the hull creak and shutter around them. Gene's eyes widened in surprise while Melfina tried to remember how to breathe.
"…Gene is the best pilot among all of us," Suzuka tried to explain, logically. "Working together, the two of you have the best chance of catching the Shangri-La and rescuing Jim. It will be a tough fight, but together, I think you both have the best chance."
Aisha sulked as she sat on the bed, grateful she couldn't talk so she couldn't try to shout down Suzuka's sense to protect her own pride. She was a ship commander, dammit, not a helmswoman. Not to mention she'd never forgive herself from separating the lovebirds.
Suzuka shot a long look at Gene. Her eyes told him everything he needed to hear. She needs you more than anyone, Gene. Be there for her, and make this worth it. Her hands gripped the hilt of her sword tightly as she stared.
"…No."
Now, all eyes were on Gene. He shook his head. "I'm not leaving, Mel. I'm sorry."
"…Gene," Melfina softly whimpered.
"If I leave, the Rev is just going to find me again. I'm never going to be safe, and I won't be able to protect any of you. The only way anyone is going to beat that son of a bitch is head-on," he gritted.
"…Damn you, Gene," Suzuka growled. "You and your foolish pride!"
"This is more than pride, Suzuka!" Gene shot back. "I'm not turning my back on any of you, either. Together, one of us has to be able to bring down the Rev. It's the only way any of us are going to be able to breathe after this. Maybe none of us will go down, or maybe just one or two, but as long as that necrotic scarecrow is calling the shots, we're no safer here than anywhere in the galaxy."
Gene sat back on the couch and grimaced. "He wants a fight, I'll give him one! Hold a gun to my friends' heads, will he? The stones on that bastard…"
As Melfina began stoking Gene's shoulders, and while Aisha and Suzuka reluctantly continued their exercises, no one noticed the slight uptick on the side of Harry's mouth.
The Rev was at his workbench, tinkering and cleaning his tri-shot hand-cannon as Rukko explained his proposal. This was unusual, to put it lightly, as Rukko usually only came into his chamber to update him on statuses and new arrivals. Now, he wanted an additional clause to the upcoming fight.
"…You want me to give up one of my candidates so you can pretend she is your girlfriend?" the Rev said as he disassembled the loading chamber from the frame, not even looking up.
"I feel like something's there, sir. Let me give it a shot! First fight after the preliminaries! If I win, she's mine. If she does, she joins the lineup again!"
The Rev finally glanced up at his lieutenant. "You think you're suave enough to win over her affection after I try to cut down her crew?"
"It's just one fighter out of three or four," Rukko begged. "And you said that Phil guy was sending his own team over to double the chances. Come on, Solomon. When do I ever ask for anything?"
Solomon scratched his temple with the barrel of the tri-shot. The primary reason this ship hadn't been dealing with the constant drama of insurrections and petty turf wars was that Rukko, along with Tex and Dex, could be trusted to keep order. Not a small feat when good portions of the crew were either criminals or anarchists. Solomon figured that Rukko's proposition wasn't entirely unreasonable.
"…Have you even spoken to this cat?" Solomon asked.
"Not yet," Rukko shook his head. "But we did something even better. We fought."
"And tore half a deck apart, I noticed," Solomon sniffed.
"You should know this as well as anyone. Combat is the ultimate form of honesty. I see everything she has to say. She's desperate, constantly fighting like she has something to prove. She's disciplined, well-trained despite poor habits causing her to forget it. And she empathizes with me."
Solomon raised his invisible eyebrow. "Come again?"
"When we fought, she didn't immediately try to kill me. Clearly, she knows we find ourselves in similar positions. So, she understands that we see our worlds in a similar light! It's like we were made for one another!"
The Rev blinked. "…Give me a break. Physical combat is just how your folk enter a courtship, isn't it?"
"No!" Rukko shook his head.
The Rev stared at him.
"…Yes," Rukko admitted. What the Ursan-Ursan usually considered to count as dating on their homeworld was something most other species and people would count as kidnapping and assault. Male or female, when finding a desirable partner, the proactive suitor would take the intended recipient of their affection. According to Ursan-Ursan popular wisdom, the closer the fight, the stronger the union. And Rukko and Aisha had put up a very close fight.
"…I must say I almost envy you," Solomon admitted. "To enjoy the trials and tribulations of romance. Be warned, you'll miss being single," he chuckled.
"I miss my people," Rukko stated, staring up at the pelts hanging by the ceiling. To most, it was a grisly and fatalistic trophy only a psychopath would take pleasure in. For Rukko, who introduced the practice to the Rev himself, it was a way of honoring the worthy fallen. Nights on Arctis were cold, and the warmest pelts often came from the worthiest warriors. The human space forces didn't quite appreciate that custom. Just as well, as worthy Terran pelts were few and far between.
"Perhaps if this doesn't work out, I'll eventually have to kill you in front of your eventual litter," the Rev joked. "That way, your progeny will be extra motivated to break this curse."
"Very funny," Rukko rolled his eyes, unconcerned.
"…For you, maybe," the Rev muttered. "…I barely remember them, anymore. Their names I do, but their faces, who they were, it all blends together."
"Your old gang?" Rukko asked.
"…Everyone," the Rev admitted. "My family, my siblings, why I picked up a gun and fought with Callaway, they seem like dreams from years ago. I have to put forth a lot of effort to hold on, and every year more and more slips away."
The Rev turned over to Rukko. "Don't make my mistake, Rukko. If this somehow works out for you, never let it go. Even if it means turning your back on me."
"What a fascinatingly barbarous collection of reprobates," the Silgrian manservant proclaimed as they passed by a small gathering of thugs, their suspicious gazes eying the trio wearily. The Saurian bodyguard snarled at them as they passed, his girth adding to his deep-bass bellow. Their employer continued his absentminded stroll with little regard for the other crewmembers aboard the ship, which seemingly universally were staggered that the Rev would allow some dandy they'd never seen before free rein of the ship. The only order regarding the newcomers was that they weren't to be attacked as long as they kept to themselves, under penalty of the Rev himself.
"Excuse me?" Mr. Howard stopped, as a hostile-looking woman was about to stroll past, an assault rifle slung over her shoulder.
"The hell you want?" she spat, literally as Chauncey's feet,
"I was wondering where you were keeping any… briefly interned individuals aboard this craft?" Mr. Howard asked.
"Huh?" the woman replied.
"Perhaps near the center of the ship, or perhaps near Solomon's quarters to prevent any incidents?" the elderly bird asked.
"What are you three trying to say?" she muttered, reaching for her knife.
"Where're the prisoners?" Johnny Anslou, agitated and impatient, cut to the chase.
"Finally, one of you speaks basic! Three levels down, hang to the first right you get to. Try to talk to em and we'll skin you alive."
"Thank you, miss, you've been very helpful," Mr. Howard smiled as she continued her rounds. "Mr. Chauncey, what do you think of the current stock aboard this ship?"
"A tethering ritual would be most advisable. We'll need quite a bit of… human resources to establish the breach, but I've done more with less," the avian alien tittered.
"How much we talkin'" Johnny asked, eyes narrowed.
"…Thirty should be enough to get started," Chauncey answered, conspiratorially.
Johnny grinned; prep work was his favorite work. He knew nothing about magic, but plenty about setting the table. Mr. Howard turned to Johnny. "…By the way, Johnny, did you forget to activate the cloaking beacon on my ship?"
"…Possibly," Johnny answered.
"…How long ago?" Mr. Howard asked, his voice steeled.
"…Three hours, give or take," Johnny admitted.
A grin crept across Mr. Howard's face. "Excellent work, Johnny. That should provide all the cover we need."
"I aim to serve," Johnny grinned.
Eventually, they stopped outside a shipping container. Around the corner, the three could make out the sounds of an argument near the entrance. "Sounds like an awkward time to introduce yourself," Johnny shrugged.
Mr. Howard raised his cane. "I just want to take a peek." The runes and markings began to illuminate. Mr. Howard's pallid complexion became increasingly paler, muscles growing limp even as the body raised the cane to tap the side of the container. The passenger began to leave its vessel.
"YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!" Gene screamed as the jailer explained the situation.
"Special request from Rukko Gresha-Gresha himself. He would like a personal preliminary fight between himself and your Ctarl-Ctarl companion," the jailer reiterated.
"What makes him think we could possibly ever accept this?" Suzuka added, her voice colder than usual.
"An appeal to her survival," the jailer offered, relaying the information as he was told. "Perhaps an alternative to certain death? Whatever, it's not my concern. I just figured you people deserved to know what's going on."
"Gee, thanks for the help. NOW GET OUT!" Gene screamed as he slammed the door to his own communal prison cell. "The nerve of these people. First they hijack up and drag us on board, then they terrorize our most harmless member of the crew, then they want us to kill their boss, and now it's our problem that his number two is HORNY?!" Gene exasperatedly shouted as he leaned against the wall. "Why do we always have to deal with the asshats? I thought outlaws were supposed to be live and let live! I'd rather be dealing with the military, that's how bad it's getting."
Suzuka concurred. "Most likely, it's another attempt to divide us and conquer at their whims."
"First Melfina, then Aisha. You'd think at some point they'd just do us a favor and take Harry," Gene muttered.
"I heard that," Harry exclaimed, exiting his depowered mode.
"Good. So, I think now's the time we should start strategizing," Gene said as he gathered the crew around the now-empty couch. "Having Jim here would make this a bit easier, but we aren't exactly in a choice position, are we?"
Melfina, having started trying to rest on a cot, noticed that Aisha didn't go to join the others for the pow-wow. Instead, in contrast to her usual manner, Aisha seemed deeply reserved in thought. Melfina swung her legs off the cot to join her friend and try to comfort her. "Don't worry, Aisha," she began. "It'll be OK. We won't let him touch you."
Aisha broke from her concentrated state to give Melfina a look. Melfina could make out the general gist of what Aisha was trying to tell her. You're telling me that? It's my job to look after the younger and weaker members of the crew. Which in this instance, is you.
"I know," Melfina admitted. "And you were very brave trying to save me after Solomon took me. But it was reckless. You could have gotten killed."
Aisha puffed out her chest. It will take more than that to bring down an elite warrior of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire! I would never dishonor my ancestors by falling to a gang of measly Terran criminals, no matter their numbers. In fact, for a proud officer of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, there can be no greater…
Even Melfina had grown weary of Aisha's silent rant. "I know, I know," he answered, trying to sound supportive. "But that Ctarl guy, Rukko, I think, he looks dangerous."
Aisha snorted. Yeah, to you.
"I mean," Melfina started. "You must have made some kind of impression on him. I don't know much about Ctarl-Ctarl culture."
Aisha looked at her as her eye began to twitch. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I've bestowed upon all of you the virtues and distinctions of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire for hours on end! Are you saying you weren't listening?!
"N-no, of course, I didn't mean it like that," Melfina tried to placate. "It's just… you probably know more about how to deal with him than any of us."
Aisha pulled Melfina in close to her, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. She let out a small grin. I know. I'm counting on it.
"…Aisha, what are you planning?" Melfina asked.
Aisha released her grip on Mel as she strolled to the door; slamming on it so hard the war meeting by the couch was interrupted before Gene could insult Harry's parentage again.
The jailer opened the door once more. "You aren't scheduled for another hour, so why don't you just…"
Aisha looked back to the rest of her crew, looked to Melfina one last time, and let out a reassuring smile before finally turning to the guard and giving a thumb's up. I'm in. Take me to Rukko.
The visitor watched as the feline woman was taken from the cell. The gunman and the swordswoman, their auras heated with passion, tried to reach her before the door shut, but were unable to do so. As the gunman let out a howl and the swordswoman tried to console him (animals such as they are, he made note of the simmering bond between the two, suggesting a high probability to the likelihood of copulation between the two) he noticed the two machines were left to their own dramatics. The frame cautiously approached the other as she sat on the cot, face buried in her hands as he whispered something to her. For a moment, the other sobbing stopped. A complicated and fractured bond between the two drew his attention. Despite himself, the drama between the machines drew his curiosity. He moved closer, knowing that on this plane, his intrusion would go unnoticed.
"…can save him. You know I can fly the ship and I know I can take them in a fight. Trust me, Melfina," Harry whispered.
Melfina looked at him. Harry wore many masks, that much she knew. Some were kind, others cruel, but he always had one for what he needed at the moment. The question to her, however, was whether he had what she needed. Gene wouldn't run, neither would Suzuka, and Aisha had, once again, charged in with reckless abandon. She loved all her friends, but some part of her couldn't help but remember that none of what was happening now would help Jim. Maybe Harry is right, Melfina thought to herself.
"…Can I have a moment to think about it?" she asked.
"Take all the time you need," Harry nodded.
"Thank you," Melfina smiled, slightly. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was serious about changing, setting a better example then the last few times they had met. Maybe he was Jim's last, best hope. Melfina had a lot on her mind, and not a lot of time to process it. Unfortunately for her, the great shape emitting from the wall would assault her psyche by virtue of existing.
It had thought itself clever, hiding on a frequency of existence just beyond that of all but the most attuned of sentient life. It should have realized that Melfina was as much a relic of the past as much as it had been, and unbeknownst even to herself, shared knowledge with that of the intruder.
Out of the corner of her eye, just beyond where her mind could focus, she saw an extended body. The top was covered in matted filaments, reaching out to collect whatever it was the beast needed to derive its sustenance. Below, curled up like a rib cage, were innumerable limbs. It all reached up to an inhuman face, with mandibles clattering as its single red eye focused its energies on her. Never in her most fearful daydreams had she ever conceived of such a horrible creature, but something deep within her heart told her something more disturbing still. You know that thing.
"Montauk," Melfina said aloud, gaining the attention of all within the container. "Montauk the Fallen. I know what you are."
The beast immediately receded back into the wall.
"Melfina," Suzuka was the first to say. "What are you talking about?"
Melfina blinked, coming back to the ground as she realized that she didn't remember anything about the last few moments. Had she blacked out?
"I'm… sorry," Melfina shook her head. "What do you mean?"
"What's Montauk the Fallen?" Gene asked.
"I… don't know," Melfina answered truthfully as the words filled a pit of dread within her.
Mr. Howard snapped back to life, gasping for air. He picked up his cane and turned to his companions. "…We have a complication," he admitted.
Chauncey and Anslou both turned to one another. Mr. Howard was typically unflappable, going as far as to take being a galactic fugitive in stride. If he was now admitting a problem, it had the potential to be catastrophic.
"The doll had the wherewithal to spot me, and she might know enough about me to cause problems down the line," Mr. Howard said as he gripped his cane.
"…Shall I?" Johnny asked as he eagerly rose his arquebus.
"And agitate Solomon?" Mr. Howard snapped. "Besides, I still need that navigation chip in that body. We wait until it is safely extracted. Then…" he paused.
"…Then I offer a bonus."