Glenda panted as she plunged through the low growing bush with her bare arms held in front of her face. Some of the ragged ends of her clothes ripped off as she ran past. Only that didn't make any noticeable difference in them. They had already been half ripped off of her when Brom had found out she was female. "That savage tried to rape me!" She didn't have enough breath to do more then whisper. Her tongue was trying to disapate the heat from running. Her long furry legs carried her well through the forest. The stump at the end of her spine lifted as well. Trying to cool her as she ran.
The air was cool in the midmorning when Glenda sniffed. She could still smell the savages following her. They sweated to cool down when they needed it. "Efficient on paper. Smelly when put into practice if you ask me." She shook her head and stopped muttering to herself. She had to get to her out-ship before they caught up to her. She didn't want to be Brom's sky-god slave.
The out-ship was sitting where she had left it on the shore. It was a small little boat fit for one operative working alone. Looking more like a rock with its shadow-shim on. It only took a moment for her to push it into the waves and get in. The gravpads pushed it out to sea as she laid back into the one padded seat. The seas air blow over her body and ruffled her chest-fur and mammaries. An unaccustomed, but pleasant feeling sensation that relaxed her after the long run. Normally she would be cover with her clothes.
She looked back to shore as the fur-less savages burst onto the beach. She shivered when she saw that Brom was leading them. The scratches she left on his hairy face were still bleeding. They were dirty from head to toe, but did keep themselves clean enough. Clothes seemed to have been only a very resent invention for them as only about half of them even had a lion cloth.
She reached over and hit the shadow-shim again. The out-ship clothed itself in illusion again. They wouldn't be able to see it now. "Data-log report. I made a mistake today with the savages. We knew that there was an inequality between the males and females of the primitives. I was sure that the sky-god image that they had of me would De-fuse that. I had been very mistaken. The leader of the tribe attacked me shortly afterwards and preceded to try and rape me. As our physiology is very different I am not sure how successful it would have been. There was no chance to find out as I escaped his attentions before leaving."
Glenda closed her eyes and shivered. "Damn savage!" She turned off the log and signaled for pickup. Her work in this part of the world was over for good. 'Hope the pickup crew gets an eyeful.' She thought angrily to herself. She tugged some of the rags over what she could as she waited.
-------------
Rolling her eyes with mock dread Glenda read the orders again. "Report to operations room three? Report for what? Mismanaged explore ship!"
She was still a little shaken from her almost rape a week before. She put on her more formal uniform and headed out to the operations room to report for whatever they wanted. She didn't think she would get another assignment on this world after she messed up her last one so badly.
When she got to room three there was only one person there. She came to instant attention. "Captain Feez. Reporting as ordered."
"As ease Glenda."
Glenda didn't fully relax but remained standing. Waiting for Feez to say something more. It was not to long of a wait.
"We have a problem down on the world below. It is rather a sticky situation as well." Feez looked at Glenda with a frown. "I know what happened to you was not too pleasant. From your report it seems that it was more of a cultural thing."
Glenda snorted. "What culture? Those 'people' down there only gained intelligence days ago from all I can tell."
Feez waved his hand over the table. "Yes yes. They are still people as we understand the term. Along with the even more primitive grey mammals in the seas on this world. We are still left with a problem. You are the only higher ranking officer that we have on hand right now."
Glenda nodded. "What is the problem sir?"
Feez pushed a folder over to her. "It is in there. The problem is very simple. Remtem, you don't know them as they were assigned to another part of the world, has committed a horrible crime."
Glenda looked up to Feez. She picked up the folder. Going to read it later.
With fingers held against each other he sighed. "He killed and ate one of the natives."
With a internal smirk Glenda nodded. Feeling a little revenge with that.
"I need you to prosecute Remtem for this crime. You will work with the natives of this world to that aim."
Glenda blinked. "Sir.. I don't think that I am best suited for that task."
Feez frowned. "Then we will have to find Remtem guilty without a trial. The natives in the area claim he killed one of their kind. He will be given to them for punishment."
Glenda shivered. "I will do it sir. He should have a fair trial."
"Thank you Glenda. Dismissed."
The trip down in the shuttle was uneventful, although Glenda had to keep reminding herself of that. The group-2 shuttle, like everything used by the Draxian half of the exploration team, was about three times her scale and outfitted in disturbing red-and-black motifs. Their pilots also considered it a great dishonor for the passengers to remain seated and unbruised, or so she gathered from the quality of the landing.
They also, apparently, didn't worry about camouflage, since the landing pad was in the middle of a native village. Or perhaps the village had grown up around the landing pad. The natives milling about seemed cleaner than the sort group-1 had worked with, and wore suspiciously familiar clothing.
A party of natives were there to greet her. <Greetings,> the leader said, in heavily accented Drax, <Are you...>
Glenda nodded and put a hand out to signal the native to wait. She hastily removed the translator unit from her ear and fumbled in her belt-pouch for the Draxian language module. She understood a *little* Drax, but not enough for everyday use. When she'd finally put the little crystal in the little hole and got it back in her ear, she motioned for him to continue.
<We send for a sky-god to help us destroy the evil Remtem, but we expected someone... larger.> Glenda finally places the expression on the natives' faces as 'concern', <Are you sure you will be able to defeat him, once we track him down?>
Glenda blinked at the native chieftain, part of her brain understanding what he was saying but another part refusing to accept its import. <Of course...the sky-gods' word is good. You will see justice done>, she said, hoping that the difference in their species would mask her unmistakable body language. [Glenda, you IDIOT!!!] she thought to herself, [what the HELL was Feez thinking about?] She smiled, thinking of the irony of her being a comic-book "champion of justice", dealing out a satisfyingly violent (to the natives) judgment on Remtem the man-eater. Remtem the Drax man-eater. Remtem the Drax-who-was-three-times-her-size, 20-times-her-mass Drax man-eater. Sure. Happens all the time in the movies. The sheer absurdity of it provoked a chuckle. It was picked up by the natives, who at least understood laughter, even if they were completely, totally wrong about the reasons behind it. Finally, the native chieftain silenced his followers. <We have no doubts about the sky-gods' wisdom,> he said solemnly. <When shall you be setting out after him?>
Glenda looked at the native and grinned... 'He does not look a thing like Brom.' What she said though was. "I will need to speak with the commander here first. His meeting place is over there?" She pointed to a cluster of Drax buildings outside the village.
The native nodded. < Luck we with you on your hunt! Small Sky-God that struts.>
Glenda blinks. Puts that aside and makes her way to the main buildings for the Drax contingent for this world. They always gave her the creeps really. Scaled from head to foot like the lizards on her own home. With large swinging heads and long tails. She just wondered what kind of lasting impression that they would leave on the natives here. Unlike her own tall thin furry race.
Bill slammed his huge fist onto the desk. Glenda winced but could see that it didn't smash into bits. Everything in the room was three times the size it should have been. "I am here representing the natives in this regard. I would like the personnel and psych reading about Remtem. Do not fear..."
"No"
"Sir. I need those files."
"I said No. I don't care what Feez thinks happened. It didn't! You work on your own Glenda. We gave them our report. The natives are lying!"
"Sir. That is what I am here to find out!" Glenda had been talking with the overly stubborn Drax for over and hour. Her temper was just this side of getting the better of her. She held it in though. She wouldn't be even close to a match to Bill.
Bill glared at Glenda. "Damn Feez! I will only tell you one thing, as I am sure the natives would tell you it anyways. Remtem is to the south of here." He grinned joyfully. "I don't know exactly where. He is a free agent down here. Like all explorers. Like you yourself."
Glenda sighed and bowed. "As you wish sir. Your lack of cooperation will be noted in my report." She turned on her hear and headed out the door.
Bill called out behind her. "If you make it back without getting yourself killed out there, I'll help you write it!" He laughed.
Glenda stomped out of the building and tried to slam the door behind her. It didn't work to well. The doors were just as big as everything else in the setup.
Glenda leaned against the side of the building, composing herself and trying to convince herself that the Drax weren't *really* man-eaters, and that Bill was just being uncooperative and surly, and hadn't *really* just threatened to kill her. Eventually, she managed, and sneaked back to the native section of the village, careful to stay out of view of Bill's windows.
[Now what,] she thought to herself, looking around at the deserted village. Everyone was inside, and with the heat she didn't blame them, but she wasn't sure how to contact the native chieftain and arrange for a guide. She finally just picked the largest building and ducked inside.
But this was no center of government. The large, open room was dominated by a huge, cement statue of a Drax... of Remtem, probably -- the horns were right. The Drax lay on its belly, its back forming a table of some sort. Glenda crept closer to check it out.
"Remtem, baby, I don't think this is helping your case," she muttered to herself, "Letting them think you were a god may be a standard trick, but this is going too far. What is this, an altar?"
When she got close, she could tell that the table formed by the Drax's back was covered by a strange, sticky red substance... with a shock, she realized it was native blood.
<So,> came a voice behind her, <You see what the mad one has done. Are you ready to face him?>
Glenda turned around, and saw what was probably the oldest native in the village, if not on this whole planet. The little wrinkled creature hobbled closer, and pointed at the altar. <That was t'Chlaru, my sister-son. He would have offered himself to the sun and stars, but for you sky-gods and your new ways. Now he is without a heart, and his spirit lies imprisoned within...the mad one.> The old native tapped the altar with his cane. <Why, little sky-god? Why have you come to take our children's hearts from us?>
Glenda looked at the native warily. <Offered himself to the sun and stars? Your sister-son was some kind of sacrifice?> The old native nodded. <It was his right, by virtue of his birth-stars. He had chosen the way of the joyous life--nothing was refused him. Food, drink, females of any kind he desired--here the old native looked up at Glenda, with an expression she realized with a shock was a leer--until his time of sacrifice. But it was all in vain now. The mad one has his soul. What have you to say to that, little sky-god?>
[Human sacrifice?] Glenda thought to herself, becoming slightly queasy. [The group-2 reports never mentioned this...] Not knowing what to say, and fighting to control the growing revulsion her education in the natives' customs was causing, Glenda turned quickly and fled the building. [Stupid, foul beasts,] she thought to herself. [No wonder Remtem would think nothing of eating one of them.] She drew herself up to a stop. [No. I mustn't think like that. Even if they have no respect for themselves, Remtem had no right to exploit them that way.] She walked on, her shock and revulsion turning into anger, a more positive development she thought, in her current mood.
With a loud flop Glenda sat down on a box behind one of the native huts. She had to think for a bit. There was just to much going on here to be as Feez or she thought was going on. He thumped her paw on the box in frustration.
--- Tomb --
Glenda looked down and blinked in surprise. Then got up and looked at the box she had been sitting on.
There was nothing really out of the ordinary with the Box. It was a light pink. Marking it as just standard ships goods. Only it shouldn't have been empty and sitting behind a natives home.
-----------------
The mud under the trees seemed to stick to boots and pants like some kind of super-glue with each and every step. Glenda had never been that dirty her entire life.
<How much farther is this Cave of Wonders?>
The native guild turned around. He seemed to be able to walk on mud as far as Glenda could tell. <It is many peks from here.> They turned around and started to walk.
Wondering how far a pek was Glenda followed. She did know what kind of clothes the native had on. She had on a explorer suit just like it. It only took her a little to identify all of the other articles of clothing in the village. All of it out of her peoples storage.
<Where did you get your clothes?>
The native looked around. <From the big sky-gods.>
Glenda nodded. Then seethed inside. That didn't get her anywhere. She marched behind the native as they reached the top of the muddy hill. He stopped and she almost walked into him. He held up one fur-less arm and pointed down into a valley.
Below was something that looked like a small bowl. Trees lined its sides an its bottom was just a field of grass. Glenda spotted a Drac far below. With ten of the natives sitting around him. All of them as she remembered from her part of the world. Some with a loin cloth. Most without anything. She couldn't hear anything but the Drac was talking with them.
<That is the mad one?> she asked. The guide nodded. <I expected him to be hiding.>
<This valley is hidden. We had to track his followers to find it. Could you have found the path through the swamp so easily, little sky-god?>
"It should have shown up on our sensors," Glenda snapped. She ignored the guides puzzled look at her strange language, and started down into the valley.
Remtem's soft droning stopped before she could get close enough to hear more than a few snatches of religious mumbo-jumbo, and all eyes turned to watch her as she approached.
<Remtem!> she snarled when she was close enough to be heard, <You're under arrest. If you come quietly I won't have to hurt you.>
"On what charges, my dear Glenda?" the Drax replied, in perfect Callian. "Disrupting native assimilation? Perhaps refusal to abolish indigenous culture?"
"Murder, Remtem," Glenda replied, "Or doesn't it count as a crime in your book if the natives do it too?"
The Drac growled deep in his throat and waved a paw at the natives around him. "I have killed no one Callian. No one!"
Glenda put her hand on the blaster she had with her. "That is for the trial to decide. You will be given a fair hearing."
"Fair? Fair? With Bill and the Natives under his employ as the witnesses? I would have to call that far far from fair. I expected more then that from an explorer."
Glenda pulled her blaster. She didn't like trying to arrest such a large person at all. "Look. There are some really strange things going on over there at the village. I want to find out what, but I still have to arrest you!"
The Drac frowned. "What is happening is very simple. My people are taking over this world. Or at least that is what Bill and his men think. They like it here and want to make it a Drac colony world."
With a snort Glenda waved her Blaster. "You know that can't happen. The Confed would never allow them to take over this world. It has a native population."
The drac looked right at Glenda. "Your race has always been rather innocent. Yes, they would under normal circumstances. Not here though. Not if the natives ask the drac to stay."
Glenda gaped at Remtem. "No. They wouldn't."
"Yes, well, put yourself in the confed's... shoes. You have a fearfully primitive population, too small to defend themselves even if they had the technology, begging to be under the protection of the benevolent Draxians. Do you refuse their request, and tie down an official confed battalion? Particularly when the fleet is already stretched thin enforcing the blockade?
"What are you *talking* about? What blockade? And defend them from what, if not the Drax?
"Why, the Callians, of course," Remtem replied, smugly. "Who illicitly shipped their supplies down to the planet's surface, armed a small subset the local population, and tried to take over the world."
"You're crazy. We'd never do that."
Remtem hissed in frustration, and muttered something that sounded Draxian,
but which the translator was unable to interpret.
<Fine, then,> Glenda replied, motioning with her blaster, <Come with m -->
Then everything went black.
It was a strange dream. Sand was blowing in a wind all around her. Tickling her fur as she stood there. She knew she was dreaming as well. There was nothing but sand around her. The Sun overhead kept one side of her very very hot. The other in the shade was cool. For some reason she was not able to turn around in the dream to warm her other side though. So she gave up on that and started to walk.
She waded through the sand up to her knees. Someone it didn't surprise her that it didn't offer much resistance. Up ahead she saw a black patch of sand. With curiosity she made her way to it. It seemed to be shifting. Little bight sparks forming in it. Then disappearing just as quickly.
When she was right at the edge of the black sand it reached for her with one grown pod and touched her. Where it touched her there was intense pain. She willed herself awake. Only the pain didn't go away. Nor the black sand with sparks.
The fire that burned next to her was very warm. The pain was where some of the sparks had landed on her and started to burn her fur. She batted at it with her paws. Making the fire go out.
She looked down at herself. All of her equipment and clothes were gone. The only thing she had on was one of the natives loin cloth.
"I am glad to see you are up Glenda. They were following you by the equipment you had on. We managed to get you away from the ambush though. Sorry we had to drop your stuff though."
Glenda sat up. There were natives around. The drac was on the other side of the fire.
"None of it would have worked, anyway," Remtem continued, "Except maybe your blaster. They *wanted* you to kill me. As long as I'm alive, they can't carry out their plan."
"Remtem," Glenda hissed, looking around nervously at the natives. Several of them were male, and several were watching her in a way she didn't entirely like. "Where are my clothes?"
The Drax motioned idly towards the fire. "At any rate, the things I know about their plan..."
"Look, I don't care about this paranoid delusion of yours, Remtem. But at this point, I also don't care if you killed and ate the entire freaking village. I just want to get back to the station so I can turn in my resignation, and go home and become a banker, or something." Glenda stood up and looked around. They seemed to be in some sort of cave. "Which way is out?"
No one answered, so she repeated the question in Drax, and in the native local dialect, but still no response. <Fine, then. I'll find my own way...>
Glenda staggered and almost fell over, holding herself up against the wall. Apparently she wasn't entirely recovered from the blow to the head, earlier. Which meant she was stuck here, in this cave, with a bunch of filthy natives and a crazy Drax, probably for the rest of her short life...
Suddenly, she felt something on her shoulder. A native paw. The other paw grabbed her arm, and dragged her to her feet.
Glenda screamed and, in a moment of clarity, remembered enough of her training to claw the native male in his sensitive area. His grip loosened, and she tore free and ran off into the darkness, desperate to escape.
Glenda only ran for a short ways when she saw that no one was following her out of the cave. She looked back at it for a moment and then turned around and started to walk toward the native village. Somewhere in the north.
An hour later she saw a skimming with search lights only a mile away. She took off at a run going to it. She would get off this mud-ball of a planet anytime now. The searchlight swiveled around and pinned in the center of its beam... she jumped up and down waving her arms...
"Hey up there! Can you give me a lift!?"
-- Crack --
Mud fountained up next to her. The near miss of a very large projectile. Glenda, being trained for such things, didn't stay in the beam of the light for more then a moment after that. "Dammit! What the hell is going on with this world!"
A blaster went up to the right of her and the skimmer plunged to the ground in a flaming trail. Remtem walked out of the forest. Holding her blaster in his oversized paw.
"Now do you believe me?"
----------------
<Move it! Move it! The shuttle leaves in ten minutes, and all these crates must be moved! You! Where are you taking that! We're here to move crates *off* the shuttle!> The drac overseer glowered at the four natives, carrying a pink package up the ramp the wrong way.
<Bill said that the empty crates need to be returned.> one of the natives replied, slowly.
<What?> The drac looked confused. <Why would we care about the empties?>
<Bill said that the empty crates need to be returned!> the native replied again, cowering. <Bill said that the empty crates need to be returned!>
The Drac grumbled about Bill not even having the decency to send a messenger who SPOKE THE LANGUAGE to explain the new orders, or maybe to WARN HIM IN ADVANCE so he could change the schedule... <Double time, you!> he screamed at the others, <We need to put the empties back on the shuttle, too! Hurry! Nine minutes until lift-off!>
Through a Herculean effort, all the empty crates were loaded back on the shuttle in time for the scheduled departure, but after the rush was over, the overseer had time to wonder why it took four natives to carry an *empty* crate... but the four in question were nowhere to be seen.
Inside the cargo hold, Glenda popped off the lid of the crate, and scanned the area slowly with her blaster drawn. They'd just finished the first five-minute burn, which meant five minutes of near-weightlessness before the retrofire to put them in orbit. She pushed off and floated towards the front of the hold, past piles of haphazardly stacked crates, trying not to think about what would happen to her if she was trapped out in the open when the gravity came back.
Soon, she reached the airlock to the pilot's cabin. The draxian security code Remtem had given her was a sixty-eight digit sequence of incomprehensible symbols... halfway through, as she keyed them in off her notes, she realized that if she screwed it up, she wouldn't have much time to regret it.
The door hissed open, and Glenda pulled herself through... and was immediately- thrown against the inner door as the retrofire began. She landed on her back and had a perfect view of the cargo hold as the pink crates floating inside fell towards her at 5G.
Glenda closed her eyes tight and awaited death. She didn't want to see the
crate when they hit her. The door above she swished shut and the loud thud of the crates slamming into the door made the airlock sound like the insides of some native drum. She was unable to even breath for a moment as he took stock that she was still alive. "Oh god."
At five G's there was not much that Glenda could do except just wait for them to be over. There was the problem of trying to breath for one. That alone kept her busy and her attention off of other things. like how the blaster dug into her fingers where it held her paw down to the door.
When the thrusters gave way she was back in free-fall. She grinned. She needed to talk to Feez before the dracs had a chance to. With a flip of the switch next to the inner door she opened the last panel to pilot.
"Don't move or try anything if you want to live." Glenda smirked. A bit dramatic. It worked though as the drac turned there head around to look at her.
Feez stormed towards the docking bay with the emergency team to survey the disaster. "Why! Why couldn't they use their *own* docking bay if they were going to crash!?"
"I think they already broke theirs, sir," his aide replied, "And wasted all their fuel doing it, so it was an emergency, but they ran out of fuel while they were killing speed..."
Feez ignored him as they entered the bay. The emergency team spread out around the crumpled Drax shuttle, putting out the fires. At least the force-field generators still kept the air in... and they hadn't come in fast enough to break the station in two.
Three of the emergency team blasted the door off the pilots cabin, and went inside to check for survivors. Two returned a moment, later, carrying a body on stretcher. A *callian* body.
"Wha -- who --" Feez began, then recognized Glenda. What in gods name was she doing on the shuttle, in the pilot's cabin no less? No *wonder* they'd crashed. "And the pilot?" he managed, lamely.
"Dead, I think. Robbie's checking it out... this one's not in good shape either. She stammered something about needing to talk to you right away, though. Right before she passed out."
Feez glanced down at Glenda, wondering what she needed to tell him so badly that she'd hijack a shuttle... and doubting that he'd ever find out, now. "Damn girl... what did she think she was -- wait a second -- stop!"
The two crew-members halted at the direct order, although the looks they gave him said that he'd better have a good reason. "Lift her up, just a little... there!" He reached underneath and snatched something off Glenda's back, something that'd been taped there. He squinted at the singed writing, half expecting to see 'Kick me'...
"My god..." Feez muttered, eyes wide in shock.
"Take her to the medlab, right away! And you!" He turned to his aide, "Double check the inventory of spare uniforms." The aide looked back at him. "NOW!!!"
"Yes... sir..." the aide said, warily, then ran off to complete this urgent task.
----------------
Glenda awoke, somewhat to her surprise, back in the medlab aboard the station. No! How long had it been! How far along was the draxian plan!? She tried to leap up, to run to Feez' office, but she seemed to be in a full-body cast. "Feez... need to talk to Feez..." she wheezed. "Drax... want to..."
The guards by the door looked at each other, then one said something into an intercom. A few minutes later, the captain arrived. "So she's awake."
"Captain... the Drax..." Glenda broke into coughing for several seconds.
"It's okay, we got your note, and managed to verify it in time to stop them from actually shipping down any weapons. The bit where you disabled both docking bays helped. [chuckle] I'm not sure we can *prove* anything, though. By the time we get back to the surface they'll have shredded everything, if they even kept records in the first place..." Captain Feez shook his head. "Still, you've probably saved at least two worlds. You should be proud."
Glenda sighed with relief. At least everything had worked out all right...
"Of course, we can't *prove* that this plot was real, which means we're going to have a real hard time fighting ex-tradition. Seems the Draxians think you killed one of their pilots, and stole a shuttle."
Brom looked around the sky-gods home in the sky with almost complete awe. The only reason that it was not complaint was the upset tummy. He didn't take to 0 G's very well. Already he had decorated the insides of the shuttle with last nights kill. Next to him was Remtem. The kind one that came to his tribe after the female sky-god left. He had shown them so much in the last few weeks. They would always remember.
One of of the fuzzy people lead them through the sky-gods homes. Then into a room where 'she' was. She was asleep and Brom came to her bed quietly. Remtem had shown him a few things. He held out a bunch of flowers when her eyes opened. "Brom like you. Will you be mate?"
Glanda looked up at Brom. Then blinked when he talked. "No. I don't want to be."
Brom nodded. "Sorry."
Glanda waved him off. "It is alright Brom. It was alright." She looked over the natives shoulder at Remtem and smiled.