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Eos #2

The Storm Gale

By Fist_of_Fenris

The room radiated with a relaxing nostalgia and smelt of a thick, alien perfume that swirled about like memories replayed in the air above the two entities sitting around a beautifully carved table made of wood from a distant planet. The air filled with the pleasant silence that follows reminiscing and proceeds business.

One--an Azrulian leotaur known as Ginasa--lay her sizeable body across the floor so that her human-ish half gave the impression she was sitting down. Her four legs were curled beneath the table so that they didn't hang out. She held a plain cup in one hand and smiled at her guest, a human man of average size, average appearance, and average attire. He wore a navy-blue jacket with panels stitched over the shoulders and elbows on the arms. Beneath that was a clean, white shirt that went well in contrast to his dark-green, standard issue, "Space Fleet" slacks.

"Captain Marthus," Ginasa said as though toying with the words. "Your name was everywhere once."

The captain smiled meekly.

"That was a long time ago."

"Yes," Ginasa said with a brief note of disappointment. "I guess it was."

"So I hear your trip to Eos went over well," Marthus said and almost immediately whished he could call his words back. A tiny hint of sorrow appeared in Ginasa's eyes.

"What I mean is," he said, but stalled a second before going on. "Well, you got home right? And in one piece to. That's always nice."

"Captain," Ginasa said.

"You don't have to call me that," Marthus said. "I'm not an officer anymore."

"You are in command of a ship."

"That's different."

"I fail to see how."

Marthus clamped his mouth shut. There was no point in arguing with an experienced diplomat such as Ginasa. In reality, his command over a ship did make him a captain, but he preferred not to be called one.

"You didn't invite me here for idle chatter," he said after a moment's pause he took to collect his thoughts.

"I brought back someone from Eos," she said.

Marthus froze. He wondered for a moment how this new bit of information could possibly relate to him and the answer dawned on him.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"He can't stay here," Ginasa pleaded with Marthus. "The council won't allow it. All I need is somewhere to put him."

"So send him back."

"They'll kill him!"

Marthus rubbed the stubble on his chin and appeared to be thinking.

"That is a bit of a problem," he said.

"So you'll take him?" Ginasa said with hope.

"Not a chance."

***

Against Ginasa's wishes, Theron managed to find a way to wander off while she was still having her reflective moment with the captain. Just down the hall, he found an open door. He approached it and beheld a sight like nothing he had seen on Eos.

Behind the open door, a ship twice the size as the one he and Ginasa had come to Nagasyl in. Its shape reminded him of a bird with its wings folded and head extended as if it were to inspect something closely. A fuselage like appendage jetting out from the main body of the ship had a v-shaped window, behind which could be seen the flashing lights of the bridge. The ship stood on supports coming down from its sturdy-looking, smooth body.

Theron was admiring the ship when a sudden banging noise caused him to snap his head to the left. A brown-scaled creature with spikes running down its spine was working diligently on what appeared to be an engine of some kind. The creature wore a blue, one piece suit so covered in multi-color stains that it looked as though it were tie-dye.

The creature itself appeared to have streaks and stains of a lighter brown scattered about its body. Its face had a human-like forehead that descended into a sort of muzzle like that of a reptile.

Theron watched as it removed a side of the engine and set it aside, all without noticing him. Silently, he continued to watch as it began to inspect the vital gear shafts.

The creature hit a switch and the engine screamed and died. The creature became frustrated and began to mutter words Theron had a sneaking suspicion were curses in another language. He looked at the engine and then at the ceiling in thought.

"Why don't you reverse the polarity of the magnimiter array and flush the carbonite chamber?" he said finally.

The creature spun around to face Theron. It hadn't had the faintest clue that Theron had even been there much less that it had been watched. Its surprise soon turned to anger, however, and it stood up with a clenched fist held at its side.

"Yeah?" it said, towering high over Theron. "What the hell do you know?"

"I used to work on the shuttle-jumpers back on my home planet," said Theron nervously. "They use the same b-class starboard booster engines."

"Really?" the creature said sarcastically. "There's only one planet that still uses shuttle-jumpers, and I ain't gonna' take no advice from any moron that claims or admits he came from Eos."

The creature looked as though he was going to say more, when a difficult thought came over him. He turned around, looked at the engine, and swore under his breath. He flipped a few switches and a section of the engine hummed loudly. Then he grabbed a lobster-claw shaped tool off the floor and twisted a triangular nut out of place. A bright red, sticky liquid poured out and pooled up on the floor.

The creature flipped the main power switch again and the engine sang as though it were fresh off the line. He turned around and looked at Theron with bewilderment.

"Son of a bitch," he said. "You were right."

There was an awkward silence before the creature remembered its manners. He offered his hand to Theron.

"Jaavi."

Theron took the creature's hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Theron."

"So where'd you learn to fix things like that?" Jaavi asked.

"Back home, I was training to work on long-range communication satellites and stuff like that," Theron explained. "At least, I was before the raids."

"I'm sorry I got short with you."

Theron was going to forgive him when the door into the hallway opened with a hiss. Captain Marthus stepped through, still arguing with Ginasa who had followed him to the hangar.

"I'm not going to take him," he said. "Everyone on my ship has some sort of purpose. They're very capable people who I can trust when things get hairy."

Ginasa gave him an accusing look. He rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," he apologized before continuing his argument. "I don't have room for a stowaway and that's basically what he'd be."

"Captain-..."

"My name is Marthus."

"Marthus, you would dare deny me this favor?"

Marthus smugly smiled and looked down his nose at Ginasa. He stood absolutely still for no longer than a quarter of a minute while maintaining eye contact.

"Yes," he said finally. "I guess I would."

He turned and walked away from his host, still wearing his obnoxious smile.

"And what of your debt to me?"

Marthus froze. He stopped and swung about. Somewhere in turning, his smile vanished into a look of solemn remembrance.

"Why would you even bring that up?" he said, his eyes locked on the floor.

"You brought it on yourself," Ginasa said, "Captain."

Marthus looked away and pretended to be looking at his ship, waiting for someone to come by and save him. When the situation failed to resolve itself after a few moments, he turned back and looked Ginasa in the eyes.

"My answer is still no," he said.

He turned to Jaavi in order to deliberately ignore Ginasa, who was left to stew in her own silent rage. Jaavi, who'd watched the entire fight from a distance, was a little over-eager to tell his captain the good news.

"How's that engine-..."

"It's singing like my mother used to," he blurted out in the middle of Marthus's sentence. "You know, like she did before that bastard ripped out her vocal chords.

Marthus was quick to recover from being interrupted and responded quickly.

"It is?" he said, unable to hide his surprise. "That's what, five, ten minutes tops? Seriously, how is it?"

"Listen for yourself," Jaavi said, flipping the master switch.

The engine whirred to life and hummed as beautifully as it had before. Jaavi flipped the switch back and it died with a lonely whining sound, just like it was supposed to.

"I'll be damned," said Marthus. "You really did get the bastard working again."

"Uh... it wasn't me, sir," Jaavi said, gesturing towards Theron.

Theron nervously gave a friendly smile that looked as though he felt he was guilty. Marthus looked at him, and then back at Jaavi, and gave a final, stunned glance over his shoulder at Ginasa. She beamed at him and cocked her head proudly as--like a good Azrulian host--she raised an arm parallel to the floor in order to introduce the boy of whom she'd spoken.

"May I present Theron of Eos," she said. "An apprentice mechanic in the field of space travel."

Marthus looked as though he couldn't quite believe what had happened right under his nose. He turned back to Theron and took a step forward.

"Y'know," he said. "Maybe I can find a place to squeeze you in."

He offered a hand to Theron, who took it and shook it vigorously.

"Welcome to the crew."

Marthus glanced around and shot an impatient smile at Jaavi.

"What the hell you waitin' for?" he said. "Get the blast cover back on that engine block and shove her back where she belongs. We've got people waiting on us."

"Aye, captain," Jaavi said as he scrambled to get a sheet of metal back onto the engine. He lifted the large chunk of gears and moving parts onto a cart and wheeled it towards the back of the ship.

"If you'll follow me," Marthus said to Theron. "We'll get you settled in."

Marthus lead Theron up an entrance ramp and through a pressurized door leading to the bridge Theron had first seen through the glass. It was much larger from the inside. Theron found himself caught up in the moment, being surrounded by the high tech equipment was overwhelming for the boy who'd never been so far from home.

"Welcome aboard the 'Storm Gale,'" said Marthus with a fair bit of pride. "This is the fastest, non-military ship this side of the Brazen system. But don't let the beautiful appearance fool you, she's armed to the teeth with photous guns and electromagnetic field emitters. She'll put up a fair fight, I can guarantee that."

He patted the walls as he beamed with satisfaction and remained silent for some time, almost as though he'd completely forgotten Theron. Finally, he seemed to snap out of his trance-like state and addressed Theron again at last.

"So let's see," he said, stroking his chin. "You've already met my pilot, Jaavi. Sehrab and Skyra are on Hector. That leaves... Koli."

At that exact moment, an alien that stood at roughly the height of Theron's knees came walking into the room. It had two long, pointy ears hidden amongst wild blue hair that grew at least an inch off the aliens scalp in large curls. The alien's skin was pale besides a couple of red markings on its cheeks and some cyan lines along its forehead. It wore a white robe that covered its body all the way down to the floor besides a thin, rat-like tail that came out where it met the floor. The alien's facial expression came off as both enticing and frightening to Theron.

It stood and looked at Theron but said and did nothing for a good while. Then, it began to sniff the air for what seemed like no reason at all and stopped abruptly. It took a step towards Theron who retreated a step hastily. The alien smiled.

"I can smell your fear boy," it said wickedly.

The alien's voice was sinister and sounded both deep and scratchy. It was a much louder sound than what Theron expected from such a small, miniscule creature.

"That's enough Koli," Marthus said. "This is Theron. He's our new crewmate. Theron, this is Koli; the mastermind behind many of my most successful schemes."

"Tell me boy," said Koli. "What did they promise you to get you aboard this floating hell?"

"Freedom," Theron choked out.

Koli erupted in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He stumbled through the room cackling so hard he found it difficult to walk a straight line. Theron could still hear the laughter after the alien had gone from the bridge and the steel door had closed and pressurized behind him.

Marthus put a supportive hand on Theron's shoulder.

"Pay him no mind," he said. "He's a bit strange."

"I've noticed," said Theron.

Marthus took a seat in a chair near the center of the bridge. He ran his hands over the armrest as though wondering whether they were still there, and then felt out a red, com unit button on the side.

"Jaavi," he said into a mic on the chair itself. "How close are we to being ready to set off?"

There was a brief second of static before Jaavi's voice came through loud and clear.

"Uh..." said Jaavi. "I'm just about there. I'd say three--maybe five minutes tops."

"Very good," Marthus said into the armchair mic. "Carry on."

The com unit speakers clicked as he depressed the button and brought his hand to his chin. He hunched over so that his head rested on his other hand and his elbow sank into his knee. He grabbed the armrest with his free hand and lifted that side up with it as he shifted his hips to one corner of the captain's chair.

"So what exactly is it that you do?" Theron asked from where he was still looking at the door Koli had left through.

Marthus flung his head over the back of the chair and looked at Theron from behind one of his average-size shoulders. He waited until the boy from Eos made eye contact, and then said with all seriousness: "I'm a pirate."

***

Ginasa watched from a tower window set high above the city beneath. The window overlooked the local hangar and its rigid, stair-step design meant for the passage of great vessels of immense size and purpose.

To her right, a row of aliens of various species worked hunched over their glowing screens that filled and swelled with bits of incoming data. She heard one give a launch clearance in her language. A supportive hand came to her shoulder and she turned to find the rather heavy-set, Azrulian tower official had put it there.

"Are you going to be alright," he said.

Ginasa looked back and watched as the Storm Gale moved out of port and sailed out into the open air.

"I'm going to be fine," she said. "But it's not me I'm worried about."

Unable to feel the tense emotion and inevitable regrets of Ginasa, the tower official rolled his eyes and turned to one of his associates. He bent down on his human-like half and stared at the screen before pointing out a mistake in Azrulian.

Ginasa continued to watch for several minutes as the Storm Gale flew off into the upper reaches of the atmosphere and vanished into the distance. When finally her eyes failed to see it, she turned them down on the city and stood in place for a very long time. After a while, she turned and left down a marble staircase.

***

Sehrab-Russo was not known for being a nice man. An outlaw cast out amongst the stars as his only means of escape the consequence of his deeds, he'd become cold and heartless.

Moving atop the rooftop upon the skyline of the planet Hector, his appearance of blue-tinged fur surrounding his fore head and the flanks of his neck fit the bill for a wolf-man. His legs were bowed slightly as they flowed down into his reversed kneecaps. He wore a green, denim coat with two gun belts forming an "x" across his swollen, revealed chest. His pants were tattered and black and were thoroughly stretched across his inflated legs and a tail stuck out over the rear. A pair of fangs gleamed in the double moonlight of Hector's twin moons as his heart drummed out the beat of the hunt.

He ran across the tops of buildings as he chased down his quarry, a man dressed simply in a business suit and slacks. The man ran frantically, every once in a while throwing his head back over his shoulder to see the werewolf gaining ground rapidly.

The man always tried to speed up, but never to any avail. He kept loosing distance and panicking in his steps no matter how fast he tried to run.

Finally, Sehrab cut the distance entirely so that he was just inches from the man. He reached out only to grab the air as at the last moment, his prey jumped and landed one story down in an unlit alleyway.

Sehrab looked over the side. It was too dark to see any movement and it seemed his victim had escaped him for the moment. Yet still, the werewolf smiled and licked his chops as the fur and features of the wolf receded.

In the alley, the man recovered his feet and dusted himself off. He looked up and saw Sehrab leaving and a weight lifted in his chest. Even so, he didn't have long before his werewolf attacker got down off the roof and came after him. With this in mind, the man in the suit turned and began to walk out of the alley.

Something caught his ankle from behind and brought him crashing to the ground. The man frantically flipped around onto his back to find a dark shadow of a jungle-cat standing above him. The cat seemed to have a spear of some sort which it shoved into the man's face.

"Move against the wall," the cat said in a female voice.

The man did as he was told and the cat stepped forward. A beam of light traveling down the alley way struck her and illuminated much of her body. She was a Jungthor; a race of alien that had a head like a panther and a body like a man's. This Jungthor appeared to be young, no doubt just a few years past maturity and doing well for herself. She was thin in the arms and legs, but moved as though she were stronger. She had fearsome, white teeth that formed a menacing smile she used to tease the man she had caught against the wall at the point of her spear.

She wore a two piece garment that was folded Greek-style over her more sensitive regions. It was a white colored garb with golden lining that gleamed even in the darkness with an entrancing light.

Beneath her primitive clothing, her fur seemed to be a light reddish, but with a blue tint. It was not quite purple but a much prettier blend of the two colors that came off darker and a little more like an extremely light burgundy. It might have been a little more fascinating to the man were he not being held hostage by the owner of it.

"What do you want?" the man said in a weak, haunted voice.

The Jungthor smiled widely.

"You."

She leapt forward and caught the man off-guard, taking his head into her throat first. She snaked her way over it and pushed the bulge in past her back row of teeth. The man plunged further in faster than he could imagine as the Jungthor nudged him every step of the way.

His face appeared in the bulges on her throat and dipped into her chest. She swallowed him in gulps, making good time as she took on the shoulders. Her mouth easily followed down until they were sliding directly into her gullet. A few more quick swallows brought her to the elbows as they bent and thrashed in a futile effort to escape from their fleshy fate.

In mere seconds, she was gliding over the hands and slowly working on the man's hips. His legs lashed out at the wall, giving the Jungthor an idea. She picked up the man and pushed his feet against the wall. He was soon crammed into her mouth and throat until at least she found herself pushing over the man's shoes.

Very soon, the Jungthor had consumed all of the man and there was nothing left that could be seen of him besides a massive bulge in her belly. She sat back against the wall and let her tail curl over one of her legs as she closed her eyes. She rubbed her engorged belly and purred, enjoying the constant attacks on her stomach walls made in vein by the man trapped inside her.

The shadow of another man fell across the alley. The Jungthor opened her eyes and looked up to find a man dressed in a green, denim jacket with a pair of gun belts draped across it.

"Sehrab," the Jungthor said when she finally realized who it was.

"Do you have him?"

The Jungthor gave her massively bloated stomach a shake and that seemed to be enough for Sehrab.

"I got a message from Marthus," he said. "They're here on Hector."

Taking the Jungthor by the shoulder, he forced her up and hurried to the edge of the alleyway. He looked to both sides and seemed content with the situation in either direction.

"Time to go."

***

The Storm Gale sat on her dock in a port in Hector and waited. The reflection from the sunrise was as blinding as it was beautiful, even though the pollution in the air made it nearly impossible to see the sun itself.

Marthus walked off the ship to stretch his legs and see about getting something to eat that hadn't been in his ship's hold for a few months. Jaavi decided it was a good time to warn Theron about the crew and some of their dangerous characteristics.

"Ok, Skyra will probably try to seduce you," he went on. "But you need to watch out for anything bizarre that she does. She's a vore."

"What is that?" Theron asked.

"It's a creature that can consume another creature roughly the size of a man whole. It's a pretty useful trick believe it or not."

Theron wasn't quite as surprised as he should have been by this new bit of information. He remembered how he'd spent three months in the belly of the Azrulian. All his mind was able to recall was the warmth and care he received inside his host.

He looked almost as though he longed for it again and this made Jaavi slightly dumfounded as to the cause of such emotion. Jaavi shrugged away his curiosity towards Theron's reaction to the definition of a vore.

"Then of course, there's Sehrab," he continued. "The guy looks normal... scratch that, the guy looks like he's going rip you apart and he just might if you get him pissed off. Anybody who gets on his bad side is in for a nasty surprise of a hairy kind."

"What does that mean?"

"He's a werewolf."

"A werewolf? How is that possible?"

"He's what you call a nuclear lycanthrope; someone given the power of lycanthropy through scientific means."

"So how did he become a werewolf?"

"It's a long story and I don't have all the facts."

Theron was going to speak again, but he shut his mouth and resigned to not knowing everything that was happening around him. It was something he'd gotten used to after Eos fell.

"So what's the deal with Koli?" he said after a moment.

"Koli is a Nemek," Jaavi explained.

"A Nemek?"

"Are we going to do this all day? It's starting to sound like a damn child development show."

"Sorry, what's a Nemek?"

"That's better. The Nemek are a small race of people known for being clever. They have to constantly escape from predators on their home planet of Tynic and they don't run very fast, so they're smart and find new, inventive ways to stop themselves from being eaten."

"So how did he end up on the ship?"

"He stowed away onboard one day while we were in Tynic--it's a nice place they've got there. Anyway, he jumped onboard and stayed there, giving the captain hell whenever we'd try and throw him off. One day, the captain just gave up and named Koli a member of the crew. It's never been the same since."

"So, uh... What are you?"

"Me? I'm a Draco. A proud son of the desert planet Drakkhon and an ex-pilot of the planet-based militia they have there."

Jaavi looked past Theron and spotted two figures making their way up the dock. As they got closer, he waved to them and turned his head towards Theron.

"They're here," he said.

About that time, Sehrab and Skyra came ambling up the dock with Skyra being held up by her spear. Her stomach was distended and moved about as though something heavy was inside it.

"So I see you got him," Jaavi said.

Sehrab shot him a nasty look, as was his custom.

"Of course we got him," he snapped. "Now get off your fat, scaly, ass and help me get her inside."

Jaavi jumped up to help support Skyra. The Jungthor still wore a pleased smile on her face as she was being helped up the ramp by Jaavi. Sehrab stopped at the base and, with a scowl, looked a Theron.

Theron could not pull himself away from the s-shaped birthmark that covered Sehrab's left eye. It was black and went far above and far below the eye itself. Only when Sehrab got down to where his face was almost touching Theron's was the kid finally able to break his stare.

"Something wrong with my face?" he asked stoically.

"N... No sir," Theron stammered. "Nothing."

"Good. I was afraid maybe I'd gotten a gash or something the way you were staring." Sehrab looked up and down the dock for a second. He turned back with a curious look on his face. "So just what are you doing here... uh...?"

"Theron and I'm your new crewmate."

Theron offered his hand. Sehrab looked at it but walked on past, uninterested in formalities. Theron lowered his hand, not sure whether to feel rejected or safe. He gazed at the pier in front of him and locked his eyes on the grains of concrete at his feet.

"Don't let him get to you," Marthus said.

Theron turned his head to find the captain approaching with a smile on his face.

"He's just being Sehrab," Marthus continued. "C'mon, we've got some work to do and we're kind of on the wire."

***

Marthus sat on a chair in a dark room and stared down at the man whom Sehrab had chased earlier. He watched as the man began to wake and then became frightened by the abrupt change in scenery.

The man looked frantically about the room, and upon seeing the Jungthor gazing longingly at him from the corner, panicked. He crawled back until he thumped against the wall with a sound of ringing metal.

"Morning," Marthus said. "You've been out for a couple of hours at least."

"Where am I?" the man demanded. "What am I doing here?"

"You're aboard the Storm Gale, and you're here because of your business, merchant. More specifically; you're here because of something you sold."

"Like what?"

"A crystal of Byron, you gained possession of one from a reliable source yes?"

"I don't know what you're..."

Marthus became heated and stood in order to lord over the man. When he spoke again, he thundered loudly through the ship.

"Who did you sell it to?" he shouted.

"I don't understand," the man pleaded.

Marthus grabbed the man by his shirt collars and hoisted him into the air. With a shove, he slammed the man into the wall and dropped him to the floor where the man collapsed in a heap.

"Who did you sell it to?" Marthus repeated. "You're playing with fate here, merchant."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man pleaded, practically in tears.

Marthus wasn't satisfied. He reached for his side arm and pushed it point-blank on to the man's forehead and unhooked the safety.

"You better think damned hard about this," he said. "I'm only going to give you to the count of five before I blast you."

The man became wild-eyed and struck out at the gun, only to have Marthus restrain him further. His face writhed in pain and a shudder went out across his body as he resisted the urge to cry out. Finally, he broke and Marthus dropped him to the floor where he sat licking his wounds and racking his mind. Marthus came again and grabbed him by his hair to hoist him up.

"I remember now," he said. "It was a man... no. It was an Epinephrine raider by the name of Cholstoy. He bought it for a quarter million creds."

Marthus sat back down and put his head in his hands at the mentioning of the name of Cholstoy.

"Where is he now?" he asked from behind his sweating palms.

"Some backwater planet called Ronin," the man said as he stood and dusted himself off. "Will you let me go now?"

Marthus looked out over the tops of his fingers. He stood and walked over to the man. Leaning closely, he whispered into the man's ear: "If I let you go, you'll contact Cholstoy and tip him off,"--he cocked the gun--"and we can't have that, can we?"

"So what are you going to do with me?" the man asked, fearing the answer. "Hey, uh, where are you going? What are you doing? Don't leave me in here."

But the man's pleas were in vein as Captain Marthus had already left the room and the door had hissed shut behind him. From her dark, shadowy corner of the room, Skyra slipped out and with a quick motion, she locked the door. She approached the man, running her tongue over her white, shiny teeth. With another swift motion, she dimmed the lights.