Close Encounters 06: of the 9th Kind

Hi there!

This is part six of this series, so if you're reading it and can't make heads nor prehensile tails of it - that might be the reason why! Go back!

(If you still don't get it afterwards, you can totally leave me a mean comment.)

Content warnings: blood, fighting, extreme moping.

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Deviously using food as a distraction for my boys - works every single time - I provide myself of some time and space for my visit to the storage room, aka the female's lair. The estrogen hideout. The lady cave. You get the drift.

On the off chance that Drahta are water drinkers and omnivores like their male counterparts, I carry a little of each with me there on a little tray.

Opening the sliding double door just a hair, I quickly slip the foodstuffs into the room on their makeshift tray, then take several large steps back. All the way to the other wall, actually, and then a couple down the corridor.

Then, nothing happens.

I get nervous. I didn't lock the door or anything when I left her before. Maybe she left the room in the meantime, found another hidey hole?

(Or maybe she died.)

I frown darkly at myself. Oh, fuck off, you meanie.

I sit at a large, if not safe distance away (because, really, there's no such thing as a safe distance when your attacker moves like Catwoman on steroids) and gently twirl the language chip between my fingers. As I contemplate how much I fucked up if the A'Draht really is gone or dead, there is a flash of movement in the dark behind the door. My pulse kicks up a notch with twin relief and dread.

(You talked a big game to your lovers, Valerie Greene. Too late to turn chicken now.)

"I know, I know," I murmur to myself and count the seconds. How long would a hungry A'Draht need to eat and drink up? I brought a double portion thinking she might be hungry after... how many days had she been sitting in this dark storage room, I wonder.

(You can ask her if you manage to put the translator into her noggin.)

"When," I snap at my inner Captain Obvious and creep half a step closer to the door. "When I manage. Because I fucking will. Now shut up and watch me."

Somewhere towards the back of my brain, that crow in that tree quietly rustles his feathers and I know that Rune is paying attention to me - and ready to step in and take over.

So I hike up my big girl panties, channel my inner Steve Irwin by the way of Cesar Milan, get up off my ass and walk towards that door with strides that, I hope, project confidence. Calm and firm, assert dominance. With a positive attitude.... mate.

The makeshift tray on the floor is empty. The makeshift bowl isn't on it anymore and the big pieces of space lembas bread are gone, leaving not even crumbs.

I pull the door half-closed behind me, using the light from the corridor to navigate the storage room which appears to be deserted, just like the last time I came in here looking for a refuge after my hissy fit.

Stooping down slightly, I scan the shelves and - yep. There she is, just where she was before, half-hidden from my sight now behind boxes and crates full of whatever.

I must say, I like her better a couple of meters away from me than right in my face. It boosts my confidence to know that I'll at least see her coming for a full couple of seconds if she does attack me.

We make eye contact, her eyes two big glossy orbs reflecting the light back at me. I try a close-lipped smile just in case she interprets teeth as a sign of aggression.

(Like she's a baboon?)

Shut it.

"Hi," I say, not too loudly. "Uh. Well. There you are."

You gold star conversationalist, you.

I clear my throat. "My name's Valerie. You can call me Val, or Ree, or Valerie. I, uhh... I come... in... peace?"

I trail off somewhat uncertainly on that last bit because she's started to move, her eyes fixed right on me, towards me. Before I can decide to turn tail and run (regroup temporarily, I mean!), she's out of the shelf and slithering onto the floor on all fours.

Her eerie white-eyed gaze is laser-focused on me as her head is tilted in a strangely feline, lizard-y way, her intensity pinning my feet to the ground so I can't even back away. The delicate slits of her nostrils are moving visibly as she takes in my scent.

Confidence, Val. Confidence!

Much easier said than done.

Ohh, dammit, I should've gone to the loo beforehand.

"I know we didn't meet in particularly favorable circumstances, but I hope that first... first impressions... uhm."

She's sniffing me. From my toes up. In addition to the tip of her nose skimming along my instep and ankle, her feelers are extended and reaching forwards. They wriggle like tiny snakes, brushing the skin of my calves and then my thighs.

(How long ago was your last shave, Val?)

You serious right now? We're about to get mauled to death, ankles first, and you're worried about calf stubble?

(I'm trying to distract you.)

Well, it's not fucking working. You're only making me angry.

The alien buries her face in my crotch and takes a deep whiff.

Eep. Terrible, thanks for asking!

"I hope you don't expect me to do you afterwards," I mumble stiffly through a grimace, and she thankfully starts moving further north, stopping first at my belly button for quite a long time, then at my right armpit (which makes me feel all giggly), and lastly at the two bite marks that Bane left on top of each other on the side of my neck in our last bouts of passion.

"Not that I'm at all against, like, oral and stuff like that, seeing that, you know, I have enthusiastically dived into much, much weirder things these past couple of years, but I... I kinda like to get to know her first, y'know? Like, her name and her, I dunno, star sign or favorite color or whatever. Hopes and dreams? Income? See which way she'd put up the toilet paper, because, really, I can't trust my most delicate body parts to someone who would hang it under."

Babbling doesn't exactly help, but not babbling makes things worse, so I babble. Don't judge.

Then she's all the way upright (just a few inches shorter than me, actually) and looking me in the eye - and then sniffing my mouth and nostrils, which is really, really weird, but nothing in comparison to her tentacly feelers combing through my hair and exploring my head.

"Really wish you wouldn't do that," I giggle-squeak when one foraging wormy appendage goes full wet willy on my left ear.

As she stands there, I get a chance to have a closer look at her in the light of the corridor. There, down the side of her neck from behind her earlobe to her very pronounced, weirdly shaped clavicle, is the gill Rune told me about. It's closed right now so that only a thin, darker line remains, like a single leafless branch of ivy crawling up a marble column.

The translator chip enclosed in my fist suddenly seems really bulky and razor-sharp.

Not as sharp as the claws on the A'Draht's hands, mind you.

Speaking of hands, she's leaning down and grabbing my empty hand with both of hers, and turning it this way and that, and—

Oh boy. (Or rather Oh girl.)

Bane's, Rune's and her tongue are definitely from the same planet.

A rush of goosebumps goes up and down my spine as she licks between my fingers, doubtlessly to get to the last remnants of edible matter clinging there after my previous cooking session.

"Don't get any ideas picking dinner out of my teeth, eh," I try my best to joke even as the sweat rolls down my armpits. I should have been more careful with the foodstuff. Back at the brothel, I always was so very cautious after that first near-miss, locking everything away and scrubbing myself thoroughly after kitchen duty, not wanting to give anyone any ideas. Living wild with my boys has made me careless, among other things.

Then again, it also made me ballsy as hell, which is why I somehow manage to grab the A'Draht's hand with my recently licked one and give it a squeeze.

She gives a wheezy little bark. It doesn't translate to anything in my brain, and I can't really tell if it's a positive or a negative sound, but I decide to have massive amounts of faith for just a little bit longer. I mean, she hasn't torn into me yet, so that's something, right?

"Come on," I coax, pulling her gently but firmly and sliding the door open. "We're gonna get ourselves cleaned up, and then I'll get you more food. Come on. Come, come."

She seems very wary. That makes two of us. But hey - my very diverse work experiences have given me plenty of opportunity to hone the high art of faking it till you're making it.

Not to brag or anything, but my co-workers at Hernandez Rentals called me The Client Whisperer.

A distracted customer is an uncomplicated customer, Miss Greene! Oh, look, Mr Hernandez did teach me something besides how to avoid your sleazy boss without getting your scantily-clad ass fired.

Praying that Bane and Rune will both stay well clear, I march "upwards" through the spiraling corridors of our spaceship, dragging the lethal alien girl behind me like she's my little sister and we're at Disney World. I chatter on endlessly about showers, dinners, aliens, the teacup ride, and Mr Hernandez, and make sure she's listening to me even though she doesn't understand a word (yet).

I'm bullshitting so successfully that I actually run right past the washroom door. I double back, pull the (now somewhat confused) alien female (man, she needs a name, stat!) in after me, flick on the lights and shut the door with a hydraulic 'whoomph'.

So far, so good. What now, Valerie?

"Shower," I decide, and point. "Come on, Missy. Gotta get Tulun D'tel out of your pores."

Easier said than done. 'Missy' hisses at the first spurt of water, and then at the spray of it coming down on her naked shoulders, and then at me for pulling her farther into the shower nook. Then, she starts wrestling with the shower head, getting water everywhere except on herself. Then, she hisses at my demonstrating the use of soap. Then, she crouches down in miserable defeat while I work some shampoo into her hair- a process made much more difficult by her feelers, which tangle around my fingers like sentient ramen noodles. Then, she licks sudsy water off the floor, and splutters because it obviously tastes awful, and then hisses at me again because it's clearly all my fault.

Forget Missy. It's Hissy. Or Pissy.

By the end of it, we're both mostly bedraggled, mostly clean, shivery, and annoyed from getting water in our eyes. Whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?

And just as I bitch and moan about this girl's manners and pointless ideas that lead to nothing, as if to prove me wrong, the entire side of her neck splits wide open.

Wide. Open. Think Japanese R-rated splatter horror movie swordfight scene. Absolutely capital-G Gaping.

Holy moly. I was not prepared for that sight. That slash is so wide and it looks like some other, crimson-colored creature is bodily climbing out of her.

I'm guessing the humidity in here may have triggered the gill to open, or maybe it's an at-will thing and she's trying to get the soap out of her filaments...?

GAPING.

Yeah, nope. Rationalization doesn't work this time. I'm just staring at her, mouth open.

As she turns and moves this way and that, it seems like she's wearing some experimental haute couture monstrosity, a crimped, ruched, frilled collar...thing of some sort that fans out and flows down from behind her ear to her sternum, the contrast of vivid blood-red to her grayish skin obscene. The exposed gills are moving, pulsing and squirming like so many worms, and Jesus Christ. I thought I'd seen basically everything in this universe, but this is definitely... something.

I wonder for a moment whether I am ever as startlingly, arrestingly alien to them as they are to me, and in which ways.

Then I remember the chip that has been sitting in the sweaty palm of my hand almost the entire time (I put it aside for shampooing). It's the key to de-alienating this creature and me, one key to coexistence and - possibly - mutual survival, and I surge forward before I can think twice about how absolutely bloody foolish it is to ambush an apex predator like this.

I push the chip in, right up there at the base of her skull bone, and feel the spongy tissues give way. It feels like slotting a plastic coin into warm, squishy intestines, or a mass of warm shiitake mushrooms. Except that this coin is sharp around the edges, and carries some sort of electrical charge. Simultaneously, my brain deigns to inform me that I'm basically putting my fingers into the gaping maw of a potentially venomous creature.

There's another loud hiss, and then a shout.

The hiss is hers. I guess those lovely red velvet filaments come with nerve endings, and they don't like it if you shove pointy bits of plastic into them. Surprise!

And the shout is mine because she bites me in the right upper arm. Hard.

She's biting me. Biting. I am actively being bitten by her.

Fuck. FUCK. I'm yelling in shock much more than in pain - I'm sure that'll come later - because there's an alien attached to my arm via her teeth. Like... her TEETH are FULLY INSIDE MY ARM.

A bird screams in my brain, rattling my skull, and then the bathroom door bursts open.

The A'Draht rips herself from my flesh, my blood splattering from her mouth over the floor, curiously less red than the inside of her gill was - I gasp and holler and clap my other hand protectively over the gaping wound.

I watch, as though through a high res lens, as she whirls towards the two mountainous Dryth barging into the small cabin with a warbling war cry.

There is a scuffle, too fast for my human eyes to exactly follow. All I know is that one small, wet, cold, underfed female is taking on two males, and though she's fierce and cornered and desperate, and helped by the cramped quarters in which everything is taking place, it's quickly going exactly as one might expect.

Before long, the battle moves outside onto the corridor - Missy has attempted to flee. I scramble after the trio on wobbly legs and barefooted across the slippery bathroom floor, only to catch myself against the door jamb just as Bane, crouching above the female, lifts his taloned hand.

"Stop!" I yell. "BANE! STOP!"

He doesn't. His hand comes down, ready to slice at her neck, and the female blocks it with an arm and a frantic wriggle. Barely.

Oh no. No no no. I didn't let myself get nibbled on for nothing.

"Bane, damn you! If you don't stop and back off right the hell now, I swear I will never cook for you again! I will never do that thing with my mouth again! I will NEVER TOUCH YOUR SPOT AGAIN! I may even leave this goddamn ship AND NEVER COME BACK! Stop it! Right! Now!"

I don't even know where all of that came from, but man. I am serious as a heart attack right now.

Bane finally stops at that and lifts his face to glare at me. I glare back as much as I can. Which is a considerable lot. Thanks, mom. You taught me well in that department.

"Back. Off. Now," I spit at him even as I tremble in every limb, "and take him with you." I jerk my chin into Rune's direction. Rune is right next to him, wrestling with the female's tail. Pretty sure he doesn't need a translator chip to catch my meaning, too. "Right now. You aren't going to lay another finger on her. If you do, I swear I won't lay another finger on you."

Oh, my arm is throbbing something fierce. So is my left knee because I slipped in the bathroom on the way to the door. I am cold and goosepimply all over and there is the distinct possibility that this isn't going to end well.

But I had been so close. So close. I can feel that this still can work. I am closer than either of these two could have come. I want to accomplish something truly meaningful.

I want to save us all. All four of us. Just a little. Just this once.

"Valerie," Bane growls, his voice deep, rumbly and foreboding like the leftmost key on a piano keyboard.

"Don't Valerie me right now." I grit my teeth. "You can spank my insubordinate ass when I'm done here, but only if you unhand her and step away."

This can end so, so badly. As far as I know, the A'Draht can turn on her mating fever thing any minute, and this will all slide into chaos. Dammit, I still don't know where the venomous, poisonous quills came from.

And maybe her teeth-

I SWEAR TO GOD RIGHT NOW. SHUT UP.

(That thought is loud enough to make the bird give a concerned little 'quok'.)

If she makes a wrong move, Bane or Rune will hurt her or kill her, and I don't know that I will ever be able to look at them the same if they do.

"NOW, Bane."

Seconds tick by, thick as molasses, while my heart threatens to cave in my chest.

In one fluid motion, both Bane and Rune get up and step away from the A'Draht, and I barely have a split second to sigh in relief before she uses her newly won freedom and resumes her attack on my boys.

Yeah, that's going to be another hard no from me today.

I jump forward, grab the girl's still wet hair with my now bloodied hand - just to hold on to something, really, and because hair-pulling is a time-honored tradition in female wrestling and sibling combats - and throw myself bodily into her. We topple together, she underneath me, hitting the floor quite hard. My arm flares up like I dipped it into a vat of fire, but I grit my teeth and ignore it. Thank the heavens for adrenaline.

While she's still gasping for breath I get situated as quickly as possible and straddle the middle of her back, grabbing the tip of her tail with my free hand like a snake-wrangler might grab a venomous python. (Please don't have quills, please don't have quills, please-)

Missy shrieks like a harpy and wriggles like a maddened eel. I wriggle around on her myself to avoid getting my thighs filleted and shish-kebabbed by her flailing claws.

It... it works. Probably because she's running out of steam after the fight against Bane and Rune, and maybe also because I'm still not a featherweight, but anyway.

Don't get sat on by someone heavier than you. It's rule number 1 in the Small Creature's Handbook of Brawling, babe.

She snarls, throwing me a death glare out of the corner of one eye, and I tisk. "Yeah, yeah, you silly bitch. I'm just trying to save your life here. Hiss at me, why don't you." And then, to Bane who has inched closer again, after my tackle, "Not another step, honey, or you can kiss your creature comforts goodbye. I mean it. You're not gonna lay another hand on her. Stay away."

As though these were the magic words, the female suddenly goes entirely and absolutely still underneath me. For a split second, I am almost afraid she's having a seizure or something. Out of habit I ask, "Hey, are you okay down there?"

Then her head moves weirdly. For a long, long moment I don't understand what she's doing. It's just too unexpected. Then, I realize...

She's nodding.

"Is that a 'yes'?" I ask like a dumbass - don't at me, my brain is still whirling and my body is starting to throb as the first rush of adrenaline is waning and I can't think of a better question to test my hypothesis right this second.

She nods again.

Huh, so that's that a universal thing, apparently? Fascinating.

"Y...You can understand me now." It's not a question, more of a statement. Still, the female nods a third time while glaring at me continuously with her gnarly devil eyes, except that her primary eyelids are blinking rapidly in likewise universal bewilderment. All the fight has apparently gone out of her.