Notes: Another chapter. A lot of the Poleepkwa caste system and culture was done in collaboration with toramarikama; through our rps. Just wanted to give that shout out. 8) Well, enjoy! Reviews are much appreciated!
Warnings: Mild language.
"Keep low." Nik hissed for the second time.
Desmond flicked his antennae.
The only cover that they could afford included patches of long grass and bushes of weed. Otherwise, a rocky, desolate land spanned in every direction; the city and its massive sky rises stood on guard all around.
They bumped into construction zones. Signs of demolition prep reflected a construction project right on the precipice of getting underway. Eager to erase what had once been a shamble of a refuge for their alien visitors. As they traversed forwards Christopher stopped them.
"This is it."
"Down!" Nik grated out.
Head beams flashed in the distance.
A truck with mounted gear on the front was heading straight towards them.
The vehicle stopped several meters from their site, lights promptly turned off as one individual scrambled from the driver's seat. The clack of metal resounded before he wandered out ahead; a flashlight probing the small group.
"No, wait." Christopher barked, placing a firm hand on Nik's shoulder.
Desmond stiffened when he caught the familiar face. His heart stopped; he stood straight up in lieu of Nik's impending hiss.
"Fundiswa? Fundiswa?!"
The figure stopped. Perhaps confused from what Desmond had said; it sounded nothing like the actual pronunciation of the name.
Before the man could react, the monstrosity of Desmond's new body grabbed him in a hug. Warbles, both ecstatic and mournful escaped him. Uncertain words came out of the man. Nervous laughs started wheezing, his voice became frantic.
"… please, stop… Stop, STOP IT, YOU PUT-AHHH!"
He loosened his hold, shaking. His hands shifted back until he gripped either side of him. The man stared back with uncertainty until it finally hit him.
"… Wikus?" He laughed; uncertain. "Wikus, is that you?"
He nodded furiously.
He sunk to his knees, his hands trailed down with him. He would have never thought that this sort of shock would overcome him. After straight two years and a half…
Fundiswa kneeled down with him, dropped the shovels and faced his former boss.
"… my god. Wikus."
Nik's face pinched to one side briefly, a sharp hiss scratching the air.
"What is he doing?"
"Don't mind him…"
Christopher trilled as he approached Fundiswa.
"We must start now." He picked the shovels and handed one to Nik. He glanced briefly at Desmond, before turning his back and getting to work.
"He is useless." Nik clicked.
Desmond couldn't quite understand the state he found himself in. The human hand on his shoulder brought his gaze up. There should have been tears, but the damned things didn't cry like humans. He found himself at a lack of words. Unbelievably happy to discover the face of someone he once knew.
Fundiswa brought his hand back.
"This is… amazing Wikus."
The man laughed warmly, his teeth flashing. He said Wikus' name again, as if saying it had finally made him real again. But the reaction brought a stabbing realization to Desmond.
He shook his head, gripping his head in a purely human gesture.
"How did you…?"
"I no longer work for MNU… I… I saw everything Wikus. The-." His looked away into the landscape.
"- those experiments. What they were doing to the prawns. The trial didn't even see them through, you know?" A short laugh puffed into the air. "They shut me up. The whole thing went quiet…"
He raised his eyebrows.
"And now?"
"The UN. They took pity on me." He snorted.
"Figured they'd take action here, you know. Started interfering with MNU, the city; now they have to give a little…"
He stood up.
"The thing has gone international now."
"Recently?"
"Yeah… sort of. Your friends look like they could use your help, yeah?"
Desmond nodded numbly.
He stood up and grabbed a shovel from Fundiswa. He walked with him as they approached the growing hole.
"What about… Tania?" He warbled.
"Tania?" He frowned.
"Oh! Right… your wife? She… she's good Wikus. She's been fighting for alien rights for the past two years now."
"She has?"
"Yeah." He started shoveling, a smile etched across the man's face.
"I'll tell her, yeah?"
"She didn't… re-marry? Or…"
Fundiswa shook his head.
Desmond was quiet then.
After a half hour they hit the metallic frame of the drop ship. Christopher opened it and led them inside. Fundiswa stood on the ground, looking on as Desmond climbed down.
"Hey Wikus."
He stopped to look up.
"Be careful. Maybe I'll see you again, eh?"
Desmond nodded, forced a smile on his prawn face; one that Fundiswa probably wasn't even aware of. He tentatively waved at him before the hatch door started closing.
Once in the ship Desmond stood behind Christopher as he sat. Holographic words and instruments glowed brightly in the dim light of the cabin. The prawn worked at them expertly, the ease and familiarity shocked Desmond.
He glanced briefly at Nik from the other side. There was hardly a pleasant thing to him, but he appeared just as fascinated with the controls as he was.
With an unexpected chirp the whole thing thrummed and rocked into existence.
Propelled upwards; the sound of sand running along the hull sent shivers down his spine. And then it was quiet, except for the sound of engines propelling them towards the mothership.
Despite all that he had learned from Fundiswa, and as little as it had truly been, an excited thrill bypassed the numbness that settled with him in that silence. No longer caring for the thoughts of the future, what could be; the ifs and the paranoid drift of thought.
A few minutes passed as the ship resounded with a dull thud, locked into its berth.
Christopher pulled away from the controls to stand, eyeing them both.
"We need to get to the command room."
The air was stale as Desmond entered the corridor. Dull glowing lights lit the way.
"How far is it?"
"Not sure. The… 'elevator shafts' are not working."
"What?" He didn't recognize the words.
"The machine that transports people up and down levels."
"Oh… okay."
Christopher led them away in some direction. The air was moist as they went further. Desmond would have expected some sort of moss or growth to appear along their way. But there was no such thing. Just cold steel, designs along the grooves and closed off corridors and rooms as they went.
Christopher stopped them and pressed a palm to one of the side panels. Holos appeared before him. He muttered something Desmond couldn't catch in time, before the outlines of a door appeared. A low whirring sound briefly emitted before the outlined door was pushed in like an indent. Then slid away to reveal some sort of chamber.
"Service corridor." Christopher clicked promptly.
"We can access the level underneath command from here."
Desmond found himself entering after Christopher. Holos and screens lit up in the large room. Another sound emitted, as if in a double, high-pitched warning.
"What was that?"
"Hull breach." Christopher viewed and slid some holos around. He stopped on a tab that provided a schematic of the ship.
"That… that looks like, something we did." Desmond noticed, pointing. There were multiple breaches and manmade holes into various levels.
"Yes, the humans... When they evacuated us out they must have tried to sweep the whole ship."
Desmond paused for a second. Staring madly at the schematic, as Christopher issued out a concerned whirl.
"Aren't there medical machines?" He croaked. Couldn't help himself asking, knowing how many times they'd argued over the possibility of accessing them when he had been changing. Or after the fact; but every time Christopher's logic would remain firm. They needed to find more fuel before they went, searching, scrounging for more. A small trip to the mothership and back wasn't worth the possibility of being stranded on Earth for eternity. Christopher needed all of it in order to return to his people for help. But that had been the past; their plans had changed.
"They're here, aren't they?"
Christopher manipulated the holo again, perhaps even slowly on purpose. He gave pause as he stared at another schematic.
"Well?" Desmond prompted.
"They… appear inoperable."
"… you're fucking me." He glared at Christopher.
"You fokking lied to me."
Christopher closed his eyes with a quiet release of air.
"I did not think they would be inoperable." Christopher's eyes reopened with a steady gaze.
"Fokk! Fokking hell!" Desmond staggered back.
"There's no fokking hope for me, is there?" His voice had become weak. The flare of heat and anger skipped a beat and died just as quickly.
"The signal is our hope… and it appears to be yours as well."
There had always been a margin of uncertainty for Desmond. A year living like them yielded the uncertainty that Tania had truly become an impossible feat. She had loved him then, and god forbid, she still loved him now.
His face tightened, frowned as he shook his head.
"There's only a couple hours." Nik pushed him hard by the shoulder, causing him to hit the side of the wall.
"Let's move." He barked, cutting the air like a buzz-saw.
Christopher's gaze did not change. He released Desmond's eyes and approached the opposite end to open another door. This one shot up vertical.
"The anti-gravity feature is activated through this chute."
Nik went in after him.
With a shaky hiss Desmond jogged after the pair.
He reached for the ladder handles first with his hands, and then followed with his feet. By the time the anti-gravity took him, both feet dangled haphazardly in the air.
He looked down and saw an infinite set of ladder steps eventually curve down below him and disappear. His mouth pieces floundered ahead of his face as a succession of squeaks and chitters bounced into the corridor.
When he finally gathered himself he looked up. The pair of them weren't too far off. He began pushing himself up, gaining momentum the further he went and feeling more confident as he started to shoot up. He stopped himself several times for fear of losing control or going too fast.
Desmond continued to follow them, exiting from a similar maintenance room, the door leading out to a great big hallway. It was at least ten times bigger in terms of its height and girth.
"Are we almost there?"
"Just about," Christopher responded.
The command deck was massive. Everything was smooth against the glow of light lining about the ceilings and pathway.
Desmond's eyes rested on the center piece. Some sort of massive chair surrounded by a circular consol desk. His eyes continued to marvel at what all of humanity had been curious to pry into. He moved quietly towards Christopher, who had taken a seat in one of several chairs that lined the circular perimeter. It was rather too large for Christopher, perhaps a body two times his size would sit comfortably.
"What now?"
Christopher paused as he glanced at the terminal set before him; his fingers hovering.
"We make contact."
He pressed something. The whole command room thrummed alive. Desmond squinted briefly from the vicious appearance of bright light. A large screen like projector, a hologram of some sort flashed into existence far above them.
"What are you doing?" Desmond clicked softly, eyes transfixed by their surroundings.
"Routing power to this pod and our communication lines only."
A brief warning stopped Christopher. Instead of looking at his terminal Desmond shot his eyes against the projector. It made perfect sense to him. Small blips on the map zoomed in and enhanced, the image spoke for itself; several helicopters in bound.
Christopher grunted, plugging away and cutting off the lights and everything nonessential to their task. Nothing but his pod and the low glow of the command deck indicated power. Desmond's eyes watched from behind, none of it made sense; only that their time was limited and Christopher didn't seem anywhere close to making a point of contact.
"What's taking so long?"
"Something I did not expect."
"We don't have that much time." He cursed under his breath.
Ten minutes must have passed until Christopher sat back, waited, his breath slow and his eyes staring into the screen ahead.
Sound buzzed into the room suddenly, something electronic that made Desmond's antennae feel funny, drawn out. Christopher adjusted something against his head, some sort of communication apparatus that curved along his skull. The sound bleeped out.
Christopher leaned forward, about to speak. There were only bits that Desmond understood.
"This is Na'chek, engineer on the - ... Stranded. Repeat, we are stranded. Require assistance immediately, held hostage by planet's inhabitants. No known high caste members available. Location estimated to be- ..."
The rest was beyond his knowledge.
And then there was silence.
Christopher adjusted something on the terminal.
No response.
"That's all we can do for now."
He took the apparatus off, got up and started moving out the way they came from.
"Wait… we didn't contact anyone though."
"No. I boosted the signal. It's all we can do."
"But that solved nothing. Absolutely nothing. How do you expect to wait for something like that?!"
"If we do not leave now we won't be able to get off."
"Fokk, Christopher! You really screwed up didn't you? We're all trapped; you, me, your god forsaken people for christ's sake!"
He fumed right until they got onto the floor that would have otherwise led them back to the drop ship.
But a flash of laser sparkled passed Desmond as they rounded a corner. He scrambled for Christopher, pulled him back behind the wall where they both fell down and scrambled up to their feet.
Nik started firing. The smell of ionized air and burnt flesh quickly erupted in the corridor. The sharp, heavy mechanical ring of gun fire pitted against the walls around them.
"Fokk! Shit!"
Desmond fumbled for the gun.
Christopher breathed heavily behind him, fumbling for his weapon until he propped it just about in his hands.
"The hell we going to do now?"
… TBC.