Chapter 9
Captain Thorpe was feeling a bit useless. Since scouting the underground ruins - although they were remarkably well-preserved for "ruins," he thought - there hadn't been much for him to do.
Most of the MACOs were escorting the science teams around the various chambers, while the rest of them maintained a command centre of sorts, along with the crane engineers, in the central area. All they were doing though was occasionally checking in with the teams and the starbase, while chatting amongst themselves.
Thorpe appreciated the significance of the ruins. This find would change what everyone knew about galactic history, and that was a big deal. But appreciation was all he could offer right now.
There was also the upsetting realisation that this was the second off-base excursion mission he'd led since he was assigned to Starbase 1, the first being the fiasco in the Pendragon Woods three months ago, and both had required him and his team to be rescued. He cringed as he wondered if he'd be allowed to lead a team across a street after this.
The blusterous Supervisor Grum wasn't making things easier for anyone either; wandering from chamber to chamber, elbowing into everyone's business, acting as if he was in charge.
Making his now-predictable circuit of the caverns, Grum arrived back in the central hub, where Thorpe and the others gazed upwards at the hole they had entered through, as if expecting to see something.
"What are you all looking at?" he demanded.
"Ambassador Mamao'lani's shuttlepod has arrived," said Thorpe, holding up his communicator. He had been updated a few minutes ago. "He'd gonna try to talk to the big Draco. If he can't reason with it, the MACOs will try to get it to move on. We could be out of here soon."
Grum grunted. "About time! It's much too stuffy down here. And there's nothing of any real value."
Thorpe sighed. "Nobody made you come on this expedition, Supervisor." He was glad that Tellarites responded well to insults, as he couldn't hold that one back.
"Hmph!" Grum snorted. "Somebody had to keep an eye on you Humans. Always getting yourselves into trouble." He pushed past Thorpe to get to the crane's platform. "Shouldn't we get in this thing? Be ready to leave at a moment's notice?"
Thorpe reluctantly admitted to himself that Grum had a point there, not that he'd give the brazen Tellarite the satisfaction of saying so. He also resented having someone step on his command, even if he had already screwed it up.
Knowing the supervisor would appreciate a direct approach, he stepped up to Grum and poked a finger at the shorter man.
"Look-" he started.
It was then the ground started to shake, giving everyone something else to be concerned about.
"What now?" moaned Grum, steadying himself.
"The Draco must be on the move," Thorpe guessed, looking upwards. He flipped open his communicator. "Everyone, brace yourselves!"
Chunks of the cavern walls fell off, some from high up in the tunnel, hitting the chamber floor hard. Everything was so weakened with age down here that the Draco's considerable bulk, thundering on the ground above, was causing it to fall apart.
"Against the walls," he ordered everyone in the central chamber. There wasn't much else they could do to protect themselves; they would just have to wait it out.
Thorpe found himself pressed against a wall with Supervisor Grum.
"Why do you Humans always bring me to such dangerous places?" Grum shouted.
Thorpe rolled his eyes and wondered if the ceiling would be kind enough to collapse on just one of their party in particular.
Commodore North had met McQueen and Mamao'lani in the Shuttlepod Hangar when they returned to base, and they had just finished debriefing him on the events at the pole, as well as their findings on the white Draco.
North sighed as he digested this information. "Captain Thorpe reports that the underground chambers started caving in when the Draco was moving around. Everybody's safe, and it seems to have stabilised again, but all the more reason for us to recover our people quickly.
"Lamentably, we may have to take more drastic measures."
The three of them stood a moment in silence in the drafty hangar. McQueen regretted that it had come to such extremes, but her father had been a hunter and her mother a veterinarian - she knew that sometimes a wild animal needed a rough hand, or even put out its misery altogether. Neither the UT nor McQueen's (admittedly limited) brain scans had shown any indication of higher thinking from the Draco.
She also knew, from her exobiology studies, that intelligence dimished with size. A larger form meant more of the brain was dedicated to sensing and controlling the body, leaving less capacity for reasoning and abstract thought. It was likely that this strain of Draco had stayed ginormous as a result of a need for bigger hydrogen bladders to keep them warmer in the sub-zero environment. As a result, they would not have evolved the sapience of the mountain Draco.
The polar Draco the crew had encountered had probably never lived in a complex society like that of its bretheren, never told stories or dreamed of other worlds. Never been more than a beast, albeit a noble one.
"I understand, Commodore," Mamao'lani said at length, a catch in his voice. "The needs of the many, as the Vulcans say."
"We will still try deterrence first," said North, almost apologetically. "To ward it off. But, if it's health is as fragile as you say, even that…" He trailed off.
"That… might be the best thing for it, sir," McQueen said quietly. It was pitifully small comfort.
North nodded. "I will check in with Major Kimura for his tactical recommendation…" He looked like he wanted to say more, thought nothing came and he left them alone.
"Starbase One's first Christmas isn't shaping up so well, huh?" Mamao'lani said with a weak smile.
McQueen agreed with the grim assessment, but it reminded her of something she'd had planned.
She lightly touched the ambassador's arm. "I have something that might cheer you up a bit… And it's quite apt, considering you've just come from the North Pole…"
