Nature of the Beast

One-Shot Series: First Star I See Tonight

Part 14: Lady's Language

*I like to swap around perspectives for the different crew members. This is more like a vignette for Combustor. I just love him to death. :3 I will admit, I kinda based his and Zoe's friendship off Beatrice and Benedick from "Much Ado About Nothing" – a constant sass war, but with lots more swearing and playful insult-throwing involved.


Ships were like cyber-cats. They had moods. They had personalities. Some ships were easier to interpret than others, and some were better behaved. The Intervention was a proud old thing, sturdy and experienced. The Solstice Matador was a dour, determined young jvinrten. The Data Junkie was a Red-addled maniac, prone to bursts of attitude and energy only an Altihexian crew could handle. Some ships had an intelligence to help run them, big or small, but he'd always found those ships to be less interesting in their moods. When they lacked an AI was when they were really allowed to have personalities.

The Lady he liked to believe was as close as a ship could get to being a real cyber-cat. She was young. She was eager. And frack if she weren't capricious some cycles. Her moods shifted around in a wild, unpredictable manner, faster than a catty Seeker femme. He could always tell when something happened on or off the Lady. She was chatty, chattier than most ships he knew. Somethin' funny happened inside her, she'd shake and tremble and natter to get his (and his underlings') attention. Most times it was just a valve needing adjusting, or a conduit or sensor array needin' some care. She was picky that way, the Lady was. Crew had to be all accounted for, too. That was a big one. If one member was missing from the roster, the fit that followed would be enough to put Star Saber's to shame. Whenever Leeway left the deck (rare, that) there was always a historic fit that followed, her core screaming and fluxing. The longer and further away he was, the bigger that fit became. Music was the best cure he'd found. Whenever the mutt got somewhere she shouldn't, she'd howl and wail in that area till she was safe and out. She liked the mutt, but she didn't like her slobber. Picky little glitch all around. She'd settle after those instances were handled, happy to purr to herself like a lovesick thost after a night with a client.

Discovery – that was what got her really going though. There was always a buzz in the air like the Lady herself was psyched about a discovery alongside all the blighters that roamed her innards. Her spark at such times always had a tendency to flux and hum inside its chamber, and he could never get her to settle the frack down until the discovery was all neatly catalogued by that huetven lyok on the bridge. Her frame would shudder and her spark would hum once life was confirmed on the surface of a world. A young Tigerhawk she was at times of discovery, ready to plunge from the tip of the Keltan Spire, and take everyone along for the dive.

He never really had to leave her spark chamber. The Lady told him everything. She could speak her language to him – he'd hear her.

The Lady shuddered and growled. Her spark readings danced.

"She'sbeendoingthingforalmostfourjoorsnow! Solus,you'dthinktheshiphadfouledrationsorsomething!"

"Oi!" he snapped. "Yoor ramblin' isnae gonna help, ajtreq vu fntaein!"

The grey, black, and white form clinging to the ceiling above retreated. He stroked the wall nearest to him with one hand, another holding a data pad and the second set crossed over his chassis. The vibrations were only getting more intense. She was sick – sick off a cocktail of excitement and worry.

"No alerts?"

"Nada!" answered Jumpstart. "She's runnin' smooth, boss. Just worried, I think. Out here in the middle o' nowhere, in a storm, no 'bridges, no buoys – enough to give me the tingles."

His hand continued to stroke the wall until the knells quieted to a low hum. But her spark did not settle and the air remained charged, and her frame rattled and shook as the winds outside buffeted her and howled. He could feel her frame fighting against the gales and lightning. Flying into storms wasn't exactly new to her; that Vizanthan jtnan needed data to work from, and the best way to get it was take a swan dive. Solar storms were the ones to set her off like this, though, not planetary ones. Kinetic barriers absorbed the brunt of such atmospheric storms should a ship need to get intimate with one. The Lady, while resilient, could handle only up to an E8 storm. Not even the Red-addled Junkie was batshit crazy enough to go diving into storms past that rank. So what was the Lady doing pissing about the measly E4 squall outside?

"Shields?" he grunted.

"Holdin' good," reported Jumpstart, looping his middle digit to his thumb.

He massaged his chin-guard with a thumb and digit. Not being clear wasn't like the Lady. She operated on exacts.

"Feckin' Pit-fire," he swore, "quit with the bitching and tell me!"

The answer, when it came, came in spectacular fashion. Something struck from the outside with enough force to shake her frame like wire-grass in the wind, topple the chattering menace from her perch on the ceiling, and make Jumpstart, normally sure-trodded, fall to the ground in a comedic flail. His tactile net throbbed in pain around his chin-guard and abdominal plating. Only through his fritzing vision did he realize he'd fallen alongside them all. As his vision re-calibrated, he hefted himself up through one set of arms and examined the room. The running lights in the chamber flickered wildly like glitter-wings caught under a street lamp. Lightning hissed and spat from the consoles. He reached forward and grabbed the data pad that had skittered away during the fall. Readings from the shields were fluxing and spiking alongside her spark as she tried to remedy the damage. Frantic, he ran a diagnostic on the Lady's systems. She was unhurt overall, but the shielding near her stern was fractured badly, and two of the tertiary thrusters had been hit to boot. He didn't even care the damage to her frame was mostly cosmetic.

"Status!" he barked.

"I'm good!" Jumpstart groaned.

"Scrapwhatwasthat?!" Freefall cried in alarm. "BythewayI'malivetoo!"

Fury bubbled in his chassis. Angrily he slammed one hand onto the holographic input of his console.

"SIMBA!" he howled. "Ya got three kliks to find someplace ta hide, and when I find ya I'm shish-kebabing ya on the world's biggest spit-roast!"


The door to the power core slammed shut so hard that the tiny motion sensor by its threshold shook as if in a cyber-quake.

"Welp," her partner clicked. "I guess now we get to see what would've happened if Scar had actually won that final boss fight in the Lion King."

She eyed him angrily in silence before turning her attention back to the many visual and motion feeds dotted around the ship. Clicking, one wiry digit touched a holo-key. Moments later she observed one of the heavy bulkheads slam down in front of the irate Ophidian. Another key, and another slammed down behind him, trapping him in that section of corridor. Combustor seethed. She opened a line to the intercom speaker in that section.

"Scald the fool does serpent want

to settle sandy err

But think to wise and cool detente

before loud threats you blare."

The Ophidian eyed the intercom in mute fury as his fires faded.

"Fine," he snorted. "I have a ship to see to anyway."

"Harm is done to Lady's screen

so mend in hurried haste

Just remember your bond between

kin must not go to waste."

She touched the keys again and the bulkheads lifted. The Ophidian, still simmering like the old campfire he was, retreated to his domain to nurse his Lady back to health.

"And the Riddler wins again!" Hearsay laughed.

"Nice save, Shakespeare," a scratchy female voice applauded over her comm. link. "Tell me when he's cooled off okay and I'll send Sirocco down to help with the repairs."


He put his hand on the walls again. The Lady was trembling, but no longer from the storm. He could still detect residual electricity coursing through her, not yet fully dispersed by the voltaic distributors, the lingering sting making her uncomfortable the same way a turbo-fox would be after sticking its snout into a nest of watt-wasps. She'd taken worse before, but her pain was his – and whenever she was in pain she became a rebellious hov'fyor, difficult to talk to, vindictive towards the blighters that had gotten her hurt in the first place, but wanting comfort from them all the same.

"Freefall, see ta the shielding matrix," he ordered brusquely, "and Jumpstart, get a look at the ionic inhibitors. Won't be able ta get a look at the telluric receivers on her stern till we're outta this miss, but they need seein' to. That was a mighty hit they took. Funnel more power to the others ta play it safe."

"Gotcha!"

"Surethingwilldo!"

The two underlings scattered to perform their tasks. He remained by the wall a moment longer before approaching the Lady's pulsing heart. The rhythm was off from what it had been before, faster and telling of pain and anxiety. Gingerly he reached one hand out and activated his speakers, optics shuttering. Music, the strumming twang of a terrestrial instrument, soon met the charged air of the chamber. They would hear him, no fecking doubt about that, but he wasn't ashamed the way the captain was. Sometimes the Altihexian tqyin joined in, his voice smoother and better made for softer notes his hoarse voice couldn't create.

"Three-thirty in the mornin' not a soul in.
City's lookin' like a ghost town a moonless summer night.
Raindrops on the windshield there's a storm movin' in
She's headed back from somewhere that she never should have been.

And the thunder rolls...
And the thunder rolls...

He did not need to see to know the Lady's spark had calmed. He felt it. The charge in the air lessened.

"Every light is burnin' in our little roamin' house
He's pacin' by the telephone in a faded flannel blouse
Askin' for a miracle, or hopin' he's not right
Prayin' it's the weather that has kept her out all night

And the thunder rolls...
And the thunder rolls...
And the lightnin' strikes!

Another love grows cold on a sleepless night
as the storm goes on, out of control.
Deep in her heart: the thunder rolls.

He's waiting by the window when she pulls into the drive
He rushes out to hold, thankful she's alive...

"Wegotsuperluckythematrixisfineandholding! Didsometuneupsanywayjustobesafe."

Freefall's prattling voice broke the music so abruptly his speakers shut off before he knew he'd done it. He glanced up to where she clung like some demented Draculian from the ceiling. He held in the sharp bite-back and nodded.

"Anythingelseyouneedlookedat?"

He managed a wry smile, "More audio files'd be nice. Think you can snag some?"

The little glider chirped and darted away towards the doors. Just as she was passing through, the doors closed hard and fast her tail. Freefall squeaked in protest, and her tail was quickly yanked free.

He laughed, "Easy, ya bilrn'xpn. Glitch is just trying to help."

Four knells of different tones answered back, sounding eerily similar to the little chorus of the song.


Author's Note: I know, I know. It's another short vignette, but this is about all I can manage at the moment. :/

Edit: added a little more. Combustor may act the big scary bruiser, but he's a sweet as a mother hen when it comes to caring for the ship. He often sings country songs to the Bolt the same way Charity and CF sing to Sen. :) The song is "the Thunder Rolls" by Garth Brooks.