Blue Heaven has grown substantially since its humble beginnings as a waystation for those passing through the Sentinel system. It's vast docks were open for nuetral trade, which while it allowed for free traffic between Pirate Guilds, Space Forces, Trade Federations, and Conglomerates, it maintained a substantial crime rate. The vogue (and intelligent) thing for most traders to do in order to protect their investments was to staff a "Box Guard". While it wasn't a new idea for black marketeers to retain the services of security personel, Blue Heaven continued to hold stiff penalties for firearms use.
Small end traders were forbidden to staff large numbers of guards, taking into account the cut-throat tendancies of certain black market groups. Hence most were allowed a single Box Guard, to avoid incidents of gang warfare. Talented hand to hand and melee fighters were coveted, and thusly, the trading house's fate was tied inextricably with that of it's Box Guard.
Episode Two: Mexican Standoff
Parve' was rattled.
That was the best way to put it really. She had expected a modicum of trouble dealing with the XGP, but nothing on par with the Pirate Guild. Porter's assurances didn't help to calm her. He didn't have the vaguest idea what the taoists were capable of. "... it's just a cat."
Parve' shook her head, hearing something over the sounds of machinery. Something much bigger then a cat. "Watch out!" She shouted as something barrelled out of the shadows, it's bellowing roar echoing in the confines of the freight box.
Porter saw the blur of motion, and instinct took over, his reflex action being to draw his heavier baton. The five foot rod extended rapidly as he brought it forth to block. It clashed with the sound of metal on metal, parrying the lunging form from the shadows. "Claws?" Porter thought as he had a moment to recognize what his weapon had collided with.
"I'm gonna to punt your thick terran head through the hull!" Porter also had enough time to recognize his opponent wasn't human, as she twisted about, bringing her foot about in a savage roundhouse kick. He did not however, have enough time to block a second time.
The CtarlCtarl's foot connected solidly with his shoulder, sending Porter skidding across the hangar bay. Tightening his grip on the shock-batons, he tried to get up, only to have the CtarlCtarl pounce on him, her boots stomping down heavily on his shoulders. Crouching down atop him as if she'd downed a fleeing deer for her lunch, the CtarlCtarl sniffed at him, her pale blonde dreadlocks hanging down, almost obscuring her ears, "... you're not MacDougal."
Porter coughed in response, trying to remember the trick of breathing, after having the wind knocked from him. After a few failed attempts, air came into his lungs with mingled burning pain and relief. "No... cough Porter. I'm not a welcome mat either, you damned bim."
"Nyah!" She meowed, obviously confused by this turn of events. Porter knew how she felt. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on either. Examining him closely again, she leaned forward until his features came into focus.
No... he didn't look like MacDougal at all. MacDougal wasn't that young, she was pretty sure of that. The CtarlCtarl seemed to get her head on straight again, and snarled in his face, "Where's MacDougal? Stride tracked the communication line to this freighter!"
"Pagguasunpha pagguasunpha pagguasunpha..."
"Nyo?" Stride turned to look over her shoulder at Parve', having forgotten the silgrian, who had become illuminated in a faint nimbus as she chanted. The smell of ozone filled the dock as electricity swirled about between her cupped hands, flowing like water through her fingers. The catgirl let out another roar before leaping up from Porter's prone form to scutter about on the steel struts lining the ceiling.
Parve' clenched her fist, cancelling the spell as she knelt at Porter's side, "Porter? Are you okay?"
"Was that what I think it was?" Porter mumbled as he sat up slowly. While they'd once been a proud warlike race, the Ctarl-Ctarl had begun recently to consolidate their vast holdings, "leaving the lesser undesirable worlds" alone. Meaning most remained on Ctarl-Ctarl and surrounding systems, their military and space forces having become more interested in defense, then in exploration and conquering within the last fifty years.
"That... was a Ctarl-Ctarl, yes..." Parve' agreed, standing up slowly. The beast girl clung to the metal grating of the floor above, looking down at them through the bars. What was a Ctarl-Ctarl doing on Blue Heaven? They didn't trade with anyone anymore. Parve' took a deep breath, trying to decide just how to approach the situation. They had to move the ship immediately, and the army of ninjas really were a minor problem compared to an angry Ctarl-Ctarl. Diplomacy seemed like the best course of action. "Your name's Stride, yes?"
"I thought Ctarl-Ctarl's were taller." Porter muttered under his breath, sparking a fit of snarling from the young ctarl girl.
"Stride isn't short! Stride isn't short! I'm two centimeters over the minimum regulation height!" She rattled the grating above like a gorilla, baring her teeth at the human, "Stride PrelPrel is of the PrelPrel family, you stupid terran! Thirty-three generations of military service to the proud and noble CtarlCtarl empire!!"
"... you must be generation thirty-four, right?"
"Quiet!" Parve' insisted as she listened. Stride's ears twitched as well, her eyes tracking a "clickity-clack" noise as it crawled across the life support ventilation ducts. Her attention diverted, the Ctarl swung from the rafters, following the noise to its source. Pouncing on the main exhaust vent, she clutched at the grate, peering inside suspiciously. It had taken her five hours of careful hacking, tracing the line from MacDougal's com signal...
Now that she thought about it, it was odd how the line had been spliced, but she'd assumed he had been trying to fool her with a dummy signal to throw her off the scent. He was calling from a traveling freighter, while trying to make hackers think he was still at MacDougal Corp on Heiphong. It made perfect sense... unless of course some stupid terran had been eavesdropping. Which would mean MacDougal WAS on Heiphong, and that Stride had been hiding in a germ-ridden freighter without air-conditioning for half a day for nothing...
Her musings were interrupted as she felt something crawling along her fingers. A slim black creature with a pair of antennae waving merrily at the CtarlCtarl as she leaned closer to bring it into focus. In a word... a roach. Stride flicked it off her hand, screaming wildly, "GAH! TERRAN FILTHY!"
Porter blinked, speechless for once as the roach bounced onto the hull, crawling towards him. Looking up at the catgirl, he shook his head, stomping down hard on the insect, "... the proud and noble CtarlCtarl, huh?" Stride hissed back at him, pouting, "Stupid human... those filthys have more germy-germs crawling on them then even a HUMAN!! I... nyo?"
The grating had begun shaking in her grip, reminding her of the prey that was lurking inside, "Come on out! I'm going to..." She trailed off as another cockroach crawled onto her hand. It was followed immediately by another, which was in turn followed by a legion of them. Unable to move, Stride began to hyperventilate, her mind refusing to accept the fact she had an army of earthling roaches crawling on her, their tiny little legs, SO MANY LEGS, tickling along the exposed flesh of her arm, spreading bacteria across her clean fur.
"NYAAAAAAAAH!" Releasing her grip, Stride fell from the ceiling, swatting at herself until she hit the floor with a loud thump.
"I thought they always landed on their feet?" Porter murmured to Parve' while the distressed girl ran about until she was certain she'd flung all of the creatures off of herself. Quick on the draw, Stride removed a sanitary napkin from her case, and began cleaning herself frantically. Parve' hadn't budged during the affair, her eyes constant and focused on the grate as it shook, pouring out a swarm of vermin. Shattering under the weight of its burden, a flood of insects poured from the shredded ventilation grate. The mass of writhing bugs landed in a pile, forming a vile little hill in front of the entrance to the freight box. Unfortunately, being the only entrance, it also happened to be the only exit...
The swarm rippled, as a pale hand reached out from within. Rising slowly from the depths of the insects was a graceful beauty in unsullied white robes. As she rose completely out of the swarm, she bowed her head, the cowl of her cloak hiding her face as she introduced herself, "My name is Calvert, the white brood."
Parve' crossed her hands in front of herself, preparing to shield Porter and herself. The White Brood... she'd heard of her. One of the Five Blades of Hitorega. Freaks and prodigies even amongst the already unnatural ranks of the Kei Pirates. "I mean you no harm. I'm here to negotiate."
"I'm Porter Lefou, a box guard. We don't negotiate, so cut the queen of the insects fashion victim schtick and get out of my box."
Calvert smiled thinly at Porter, whose batons remained drawn and charged. Calvert rested her hand against her forehead as if stricken, "... a negotiations break down. Well... If we can't negotiate, then I suppose I'll leave." Parve' closed her eyes, chanting softly as the insects began to chitter. Calvert shook her head after a moment, "No... I suppose I can't very well leave empty handed." Lifting her hand, a flickering red light began imminating from Calvert's palm. The vermin began to spread about her, moving in ranks, like a vast army, its battalions stretching forth into position. They slowly began to take their positions, forming a large tao circle.
Stride didn't know what was going on... she hadn't had anything to eat in almost twelve hours, and had been stuck in a poorly ventilated room that hadn't been cleaned since the Ctarl Empire had annulled it's trading treaties. She needed a bath, a drink, and a television. What she didn't need right now was some lunatic terran throwing bugs at her. Howling, she dug deep within her psyche, stirring up the beast within, giving it free reign.
Stride knew there was no moon on Blue Heaven, limiting her strength... but she wasn't going to let ANYONE get away with infecting her fur like that with filth. Crouching down, she vaulted over Porter and the silgrian, her claws extending as she pounced. Her nails found purchase on Calvert's outstretched arm, digging deep into the flesh leaving four deep gouges that almost severed the appendage.
The spell died on Calvert's lips as she screamed, a brown oily substance pouring from the wound as her forearm bent in a way it simply shouldn't, hanging by a ragged thread of flesh. Stride bared her teeth, circling back to maul the woman again, trying to ignore the crunching sensation of insects beneath her boots. Calvert turned about with frightening speed, as the remains of her arm distended. A serrated blade of chitin slid wetly from the remains of her arm, like nothing so much as the claw of a praying mantis. Backhanding the Ctarl with the rounded end of the weapon, Calvert's insects continued to march forward, writing out the complex sigils with their own bodies. Stride grunted as the wind was knocked out her, her body skidding past Porter.
"Hold her off Porter!" Parve' shouted, trying to come up with a plan... ANYTHING! Calvert wasn't human, and was apparently much better versed in the tao then she was. Porter looked over at the weakly twitching Ctarl-Ctarl, then back at his batons, before speaking up, "How? I don't have any pest spray."
There wasn't any way he could touch her, he was right. Which left only one option... "I'll keep her busy, Porter. Get the damned ship running!"
"The ship? It's seventy years old!"
"Porter! NOW!" Parve' shouted, drawing a tao card from her vest and beginning to chant. Porter muttered a few choice words under his breath, before jumping up on the wing of the XGP. Porter struggled with the hatch when he finally reached it, "The computer system is down, Parve'! The electrical door won't open!"
The Silgrian didn't respond, the ward in her hand glowing brightly. Calvert had recovered already from Stride's attack, her eyes closed as she chanted her own spell. The mystical power of the taoists clashed, stirring up a powerful wind in the freight box. "Shit! OPEN!" Porter slammed his fist against the door to no avail.
"Get out of Stride's way!" The ctarl-ctarl startled Porter as she hauled herself up the wing to avoid the progress of the vermin across the hull. Swinging her own petite little fist against the sealed red door, Stride let out a short little laugh as it buckled inward off the hinges. With that, she hopped into the comparative safety of the ship.
Parve' let out a sharp cry as the shielding ward ignited in her hand, the spell card quickly reduced to ash. Porter looked back at the darkened entrance to the ship, and shook his head. If the computer wasn't able to open the door, then there was no way he could get the engine running. Which meant they were sunk... Unless they could get lucky and over power the roach queen.
The spell circle began to complete itself, the chirping of the insects carrying the tune of a chant. Parve' pulled another card from her vest, closing her eyes as she concentrated on shielding herself. She didn't know what Calvert was trying to cast, and frankly she wasn't curious enough to want to be on the receiving end of it.
Porter leapt off of the wing, raising his large baton over his head as he took to the air. If the ctarl could get through the bug lady's defenses, then he was damned sure he could. With a shout, he swung downwards, the baton making a solid cracking noise as Calvert defended herself with her mantis claw. Her human hand shot out with frightening strength, clutching at his throat. Porter gagged as he was shaken about, dropping his baton as his fingers went numb. He fumbled inside his coat, as spots danced in front of his eyes.
One of Parve's metcampf spells was somewhere in his pocket, he knew. Finally finding it he brought his fist out of the confines of his coat, landing an open palmed blow on Calvert's forehead.
She didn't even grunt at the attack, continuing to strangle the box guard. Porter smiled at her weakly as he struggled. Calvert sneered back in response, "Desperate fool." And then she began to feel the heat... a burning heat at her forehead. It was tao magic, that much she knew, but... how? Glaring at the boy, she didn't sense a whiff of the tao on him.
Throwing Porter away, she reached up to her forehead, yanking off an adhesive strip of paper. Recognizing it for a tao ward, her eyes widened for a moment, before it detonated in her face. Parve' let out a deep sigh of relief, before staggering to the front of the box to Porter's crumpled form, "Porter? Are you alright?"
"If I say no, do I get to go home?"
"... no. There's still an army of pirates waiting outside."
"Oh right..."
Pulling him to his feet, Parve's breath caught as the box was filled with a neon red light again. The spell circle was alive again. Which meant so was Calvert. The pirate's headless corpse got up slowly, stretching out, tearing loose of her robes and flesh with equal zest. Rearing on her back four legs, she let out a frighteningly alien squeal as she stood up to her full height. "Actually an army of pirates sounds alot better then a ten foot cockroach right now... Where's a rolled up newspaper when you need one?"
"Negotiations have ended... may your souls find the dankest of the thousand hells..." The creature bellowed as it rocked forward, landing on all of it's feet. An explosion echoed in the cabin as safety plates along the Outlaw Star detonated their locks. Calvert looked up in time to see a grappler arm as it was discharged from the ship's hull. With a wet splat and clunk the arm landed on the ground, crushing the taoist.
"What the hell?"
Parve' pointed up to the XGP as its flood lights flickered on and off, "Stride..." The sound of metal against metal started up on the other side of the entrance, the army of red tao creatures somehow sensing Calvert's failure. Porter felt like he'd gone twenty rounds with a gang of MacDougal box guards. He was sure that the Ctarl had bruised his collarbone when she'd pounced on him, and his trachea didn't feel like it was in tip top shape. "You going to just stand there, while a Ctarl-Ctarl is inside an auction piece?"
Parve's eyes widened at the thought, shoving Porter out of the way. She'd had it insured, but despite that, somethings money couldn't replace!
"Shut up!"
"I must inform you that..."
"Stride said shut up, stupid terran computer, and start the engines!"
"I'm afraid I can not comply with requests that are not made by members of the crew. And you are not registered."
"Nyah..." Stride was already up to her waist in wires and metal plates, from her attempts to hotwire the machine. It was designed in such an unusual fashion, that she wasn't having much luck, however. The primary control panel, or rather what she THOUGHT was the primary control panel had been hooked up to the grappler system. The navigation system was nowhere to be found, which was confusing, because obviously it HAD to have one! It was a ship! How could a ship NOT have a navigational system?
Yanking at a few wires indescriminately, she frowned at the tangle wondering who designed this wreck? "Ah! I... I would have to ask you not do that."
"Shut up! If Stride finds your box, she's going to reformat you. Technology has to do what it's told!" She adjusted her glasses petulantly. It was irritating to be told "no" by a terran, but by a terran computer? She had her pride as a Ctarl-Ctarl! She wasn't going to let something like that go by unanswered. But who ever designed the cockpit seemed to have been certifiable. The galactic standard for data and power systems wiring was a four cord system, while this ship had seven.
It was as if the navigation system wasn't part of the mainframe, while the piloting was on a dual accessable line with automatic pivot. Which would mean two people were required to properly pilot the ship, one of them handling navigation manually without aid of computer systems, while the other would work the grappler system and short range flight capabilities... which wasn't possible, "Start the engine, stupid computer!"
The computer sighed for the fourth time, explaining for the eighth time, "I can not comply, you are not a registered cr..."
"The crew's been dead for along forty years, so you're going to have to get over it, pal." Porter announced as he was dragged into the cockpit by Parve' "We have to get moving, they're going to break through the door, damn it!"
"Nyo? Who's they?"
"I can not comply, even if the previous crew is deceased, unless you are the new owners of this vessel."
Ignoring the Ctarl-Ctarl, Porter hopped into the pilot's chair, "We are! Now move it!"
"Will attempt to engage unsen engines now, however without Melfina, we will not be able to navigate for long distance travel. And I am not able to bring the engines online without the key."
Pulling herself up to peek over the edge of the pilot's chair, Stride mewed curiously up at the computer,"Nyo? What's a Melfina?"
"No one asked you anything. Sit down, monster-chick... are you wearing glasses?"
"Nyah? No. Why would Stride need glasses?" Stride replied, yanking the spectacles off her face, pocketing them quickly.
Digging into his coat, Porter fumbled for the key, shoving it in the slot with more force then was strictly needed, "Alright then. Move it!" He gritted his teeth as he turned the key, the unsen engines firing to life as he flooded them.
"But we can not navigate, save by sight without Melfina."
"Stop bitching, and move, computer!" Porter shouted, forcefully shoving the main thrust lever into it's highest setting. With a shuddering explosion, the ship shot forward, dragging a grappler arm limply behind, smashing through the airlock gate. The ship spiralled about as it exited the dock, careening along the line of meteor buoy's outside the airlock. Tearing the dangling grappler arm from it's mooring, the computer letting out a pained groan.
Wedging itself between two guide meteors, the red vessel fired off all four engines to full power, popping out the other side of the guide route with fairly minor damage to the hull. Porter let out a sigh of relief as the vastness of space stretched out up ahead... until the red alert lights sprang to life with a loud alarm claxon, "... what's that? Is something wrong?"
"Stupid earthling, do red lights start flashing when things go right?" Stride snarled as she tried to untangle herself from the mess of wires that she'd reduced the console to.
"Three vessels from Blue Heaven have altered course to intercept the XGP!" The computer chimed as the ship began to shudder ominously.
Parve hopped into the communications console, seeking to open a channel to the oncoming ships, "It could be space-dock assistance, coming to help tow us out."
"Their weapons are charging." Gilliam advised before she had to time to complete the action. Porter shook his head at the announcement, "Okay... fairly safe to say it's not dock-side assistance. Move it, computer!"
"This is our maximum speed via conventional engines. I must remind the new crew that this vessel is over seventy years old." Gilliam protested as the crew buckled into their seats frantically.
"Then ether jump!"
"We can not ether jump without Melfina for navigation!"
"... hey, shorty! Can you hotwire the ether drive?"
"Stride isn't short! Stride's gonna pull your kidneys out of your..."
"If we don't jump, we're dead, got it?"
"Nyo..." The Ctarl seemed to ponder the matter for a moment, before shoving her fist into the control panel, breaking through the two inch sheet metal like tissue paper. With a crunch, she yanked out a small bundle of wires and vaccuum tubes, giving them a swift yank out of the helm.
"Oh! Error! Error! Ether Drive Engaged..."
"If I die, I'm going to come back as a ghost and haunt that M bitch!" Porter screamed as the blue energy swirled about the vessel, as it dove into the ether without a navigation system.
TO BE CONTINUED... (Click-click)