Close Encounters 03: of the Sixth Kind

This guy is neither Bane nor Rune.

It's not him, nor him.

It's not them.

"It's not them, Val." I say it out loud just to hear it with my own ears, and I breathe deeply.

For some reason, that sends even fatter tears down my cheeks - I almost angrily wipe them away with hands that are suddenly shaking like leaves - and has me somehow so very, very dizzy and tired I could just lie down right here and sleep.

Well, maybe not right here. But right over there, for sure. Just a couple of feet away from the corpse of this stranger.

Once the trembling has abated, I have time for the obvious questions.

Who the fuck is he, then, though? What the fuck is he doing here, on this ship? How and when did he get here? Why the fuck is he dead?

"What the fuck is going on?" I ask the dead guy and myself, grabbing my own elbows in a hug and shivering violently for a second, and getting an answer from neither him nor me.

It is colder than it has ever been on this ship, I'm not imagining things. There is a draft. It's darker. Something has happened, apart from some stranger turning up out of nowhere and getting dead in the middle of this corridor, and I need to find out what that something is.

My gut tells me to head toward the bridge. That's where the controls are anyway, and if nothing else, I can maybe switch the damn heating back on (or the AC off) before I get frostbite on my nips.

I slowly slide along the wall to pass by the dead guy for no good reason other than having seen too many alien horror movies in which careless people got themselves carelessly killed by being careless and overconfident and stupid. Once past, I power-walk for a bit, checking behind me every so often, just to make sure that the corpse isn't following me. Better safe than sorry and dead. I send a short prayer for guidance and protection to Sigourney Weaver because I figure that if anyone knows anything about this particular situation and how to safely get out of it, it's her.

In hindsight, it's only because of my totally paranoid overcaution that I make it all the way to the bridge without being heard coming by the others. Well, that, and the fact that Rune and Bane both notice my nearness and start acting up at the very same second to cover for and pull the attention off me.

At least that's what I later surmise they meant to do. They'd never admit it, of course. It was strategically unwise.

There's a sudden wave of snarls, bellows and cries of pain coming from the bridge, most of them painfully recognizable for me, and I force myself to breathe so quietly that I almost suffocate myself, and set my bare feet so slowly onto the floor I probably look like a third-rate pantomime doing slow motion. Going all the way down onto my knees and putting my cheek onto the floor, I peek around the corner.

There are my boys. Not well, outnumbered, basically naked and weaponless, but alive.

(For now.)

I bite my tongue so hard I can taste blood.

And there are the others.

I count six of them, tall, wide, dark as any Dryth, all decked out in armor and laden with gleaming weapons. Three of them have Bane, who is breathing hard and bleeding from one closed eye, surrounded at sword point. Two are piled atop Rune who is struggling against them, clawing with hands and feet, throwing elbows and using his tail as a sling.

And the last one of them is clearly the leader of this gang of newcomers. Not only is he the only other guy with ears (not pierced like Runes, I notice, but decorated with a golden curlicue that clearly serves to draw attention to that body part), but he also just has this... air. He's standing off to the side a little, looking down at Rune with something like attentive boredom and that obnoxious superiority I recognize right away.

He's the manager.

"Stop your resistance, let the guards go, and we may let the General live," he says to Rune, and even his voice is annoying and manager-y.

I blink as I realize that by 'the General', he means Bane.

Wait, Bane is a General?

Of course is he is. Probably a highly decorated one and shit, too, and more than likely, I've been calling him 'My General' this entire time, too, just like I've been calling Rune 'My King'.

Brazen bastards, both of them. If we somehow make it out of this alive, I'm going to give them a dressing-down that'll have a fucking echo in space.

Rune doesn't 'stop his resistance' in the least. The three Dryth roll around the floor reminding me of something I've seen on Nat Geo, something large and lethal and angry, fighting to the death. Blood sprays the light-gray floor.

The manager watches for a long moment and then turns to Bane who doesn't seem to be beaten in the least despite being armed with nothing but a damn loincloth and a scowl and facing three dudes with ridiculously large, Cloud Strife-style broadswords.

Bane reminds me of Bruce Lee, calmly waiting for the right fraction of a moment to start kicking ass.

Or at least I hope he is.

I don't like the way his tail is curled.

(Now there's a sentence I never thought I would utter a month ago or so.)

But really, there's something wrong with his tail. Is it broken?

"General Hylve'kairs, your behavior is dishonorable," the manager states nasally. "The Crestir'fen will hear about this. You will be disciplined."

I have no idea what a Crestir'fen is but I strongly suspect that he's an even bigger asshole than this snitchy ass. The manager of managers, so to speak.

"You know that it is his right and duty to claim the old blood for akrieza."

By "old blood" he must be referring to Rune.

My translator chip takes a second to deal with the last word in the sentence and gives me not one but four translations all at once, so that I have to unravel them in my brain.

Slave. Concubine. Trophy. Trash.

What the everloving fuck.

Is that how the line of succession is determined on Planet Dryth: He who manages to catch, yoke, sodomize and eventually dispose of the predecessor is legitimized as the new king? Involuntarily I imagine Rune underneath a guy like the manager, and Rune's head on a spike or mounted to a wall somewhere like a dead deer, and press my lips together to suppress the moan of distaste. Fucking barbarians.

To be fair, humans also beheaded their old kings and queens now and again not so long ago, but I'm fairly certain no one enslaved and raped Louis XVI before they lopped his head off, and afterwards, he was buried and left the hell alone.

Bane bares his teeth in a snarl so cold and vicious that it gives me a shiver, and I'm not even at the receiving end of it. As I watch, the snarl deepens and one by one, his muscles shift until I can read agony there between all that anger. His face becomes a mask of pain, his one open eye is as dull as I have ever seen it, almost lightless.

The same agony is much clearer in the face of one of the guards. I can only see him in profile, but it's enough.

And then I suddenly understand the weird standoff.

Rune must be holding the three swordsdryth back with his Princess-Leia-Professor-X-gift-thing. That's why the manager told him to 'let go' of the guards. He wasn't referring to the two Rune is wrestling with but to the three guys who are not advancing farther against an unarmed Bane.

Meanwhile, the manager is trying to force Bane into submission with his own mental manipulation bullshit, but Bane is refusing to go down on all fours for him.

For an absurd second, I think to myself how easily this would all be resolved if the manager just went and helped his own guys out against either Rune or Bane.

Rune is obviously working at capacity already. He's got his literal hands full against the two smaller Dryth currently trying to rip out his tail with their teeth, and the metaphorical ones are busy working against the three guys surrounding Bane.

Judging by the cramped twitching of Bane's tail, he's fighting a battle inside of his head that barely lets him breathe.

The manager could literally just walk up to Bane and knock him over with a feather, or throw one or two of the shiny, shiny knives that are dangling around on his belt at Rune and decide the brawl that's happening on the floor right in front of him.

But then I remember that he would never voluntarily lift a hand because he's a bloody manager. It's a law of nature that managers cannot, at any cost, be observed doing work.

Well. If he doesn't want to tip the scales in his favor, he probably won't mind much if I do the honors!

I get back up onto my feet as silently as I can manage, take one deep breath and let it out slowly and quietly, and then step out from behind the corner where I am hiding.

Bold, Valerie. Be bold and tall. Be Wonder Woman.

I stand there, as boldly and tall as I can physically manage while being naked, cold and so scared I'll start to pee myself any second now.

"Hey, fuckhead!" I want to yell, but it's actually more of a warbled little gasp.

I also only actually get to the 'Hey' before all hell breaks loose.

The manager turns his face towards the sudden, unexpected distraction - me - and apparently loses just the slightest bit of grip on Bane's mind.

That's enough.

Bane slides forward, so quickly I hardly even see what's happening, and goes for one of the big silver weapons on the belt of the guard right in front of him, grabs and pulls it out of the sheath, and swings it in a horizontal arc that catches the outstretched arms of the other two guards, slicing them clean off.

Spookily, the guards don't move for a full second even as their swords, hands and lower arms fall to the floor, the blades clattering to the ground, their dead flesh making a sickening wet sound as it almost immediately turns to something gooey, like melted wax.

A split second later Rune sets them free and they come out of their unnatural stupor. Two of them start bellowing in pain and grab at their bleeding stumps. The third one, the one who still has both of his hands and his weapon, is still in Bane's way.

Rune, now freed from the taxing task to keep three Dryth from killing Bane immediately, turns his scary brain power on the two attackers who are physically piled onto him. One of them gives a scream so piercing that I feel it in my teeth, and flings himself to the side, holding his face. The second one manages to sink his fangs into Rune's neck.

That all happens within a couple of seconds, and that's all I see before I realize that I still have the manager's furious attention.

I do the only thing that comes to mind, even though it's dumb.

I run.

***

I swear I will run for fun every day from now until the day I day if I survive this.

Well, maybe not every day, but definitely most days. Because if I ever have to run for my life again, I want to feel faster than this, and I don't want it to hurt so bad I start to give serious consideration to the other option.

My windpipe, lungs, boobs, thighs, knees, calves and feet are all asking me whether being dead can really be all that bad in comparison to this torment.

My brain, meanwhile, is producing nothing but fat, noxious worries and accusations.

What is happening at the bridge? Did Bane get that third guy? Third guy's sword was larger - not that size matters - and he also had armor on. And the first two still had their left hands and a lot of weapons. What if they eventually managed to block out the pain and kept fighting with their other hand? Did Rune throw off his second attacker eventually? Was he slowed down by that bite? It looked like he tore straight into his carotid artery. Do Dryth have carotid arteries?

Is the manager still behind me? Was he ever?

I didn't wait to check and I never once turned my head because that's horror movie 101: Once you look back, you'll trip, most likely over your own feet, and sprain your ankle, and then you die. The downside of this rationale is that I have no idea what's going on and not knowing makes it about ten thousand times worse.

Then again, I'm just a slow human (who's still running a little bowlegged because my spikes don't give a crap that I'm busy running for my life right now and don't have the time or the breath for orgasms). If that Dryth asshole with the bling-bling ears were coming after me, he'd long have caught up to me because the only thing I have going for me is that I know this ship like the back of my hand, weird gravity shifts and all.

Or maybe that means he's lying in wait for me somewhere like the clever predator he is.

Or maybe he stayed behind to finish Bane off - probably by making him kill himself, hara-kiri-style -incapacitate Rune - after all, he needs him alive for slave-concubine-trophy-trash purposes - and is just a little late right now? Maybe he knows I am not a threat whatsoever and that he can take his sweet time going after me? Or maybe he knows I'm just an insignificant little human and won't bother at all and I'm running for no reason at all and I'll eventually go back to the bridge and find the aftermath of the fight rotting on the floor there while the manager has disappeared with Rune the same mysterious way he came?

I will never go back to the bridge. Ever. Again. If I find body parts and end up recognize them I think my soul will die.

And then the most obnoxious part of my brain starts up: I should've stayed. I could've done more. I should never have been hiding in the first place, stewing like some pouty 13 year old drama queen, blindly accusing Rune of being a horrible asshole like the manager. I could have sacrificed myself and saved them. It was still basically still three against two and if I had stayed and distracted the manager, it would've been more even, they would've stood a chance, Rune wouldn't have gotten taken, but I am a cowardly ass and a terrible-

There's a rustle in the trees behind me and I flinch mid-stride and stumble but manage to keep my feet underneath me somehow, taking leaves and branches in the face for my troubles. I would whimper, but there isn't enough air.

Of course I went up the hatch and into the outer level of the ship, into the forest. Firstly, I know this part of the ship best. Secondly, it wraps around the ship so there are no corners to be, well, cornered in. And thirdly, it's my forest. It's where I spent most of my time in these past, blissful weeks, and the place gives me strength. If I do get caught and get killed - because I'd much rather get killed than be taken by Mr Akrieza Acquisition - I would want it to happen here.

By the time the rustle catches up with me, I'm crying so hard my tears course down my neck, and my hands and legs are striped with welts from pushing plants out of my way. I'm exhausted. I can't. I can't. My sides burn with the fire of a thousand suns. My legs are made of lead. My lungs have balled up like fists in my chest. And I'm so, so fucking scared and angry and sad and helpless. For myself and for Bane and Rune and-

The trees open like a curtain before me and hit the bedroom with the last of my air, but then my feet stutter on one of the shallow ditches, my rhythm breaks and my legs give out. I fall, try my best to not brake with my face, to roll and not land on and twist a knee. The last thing I want is a torn ACL right now. The grass mats cushion my fall somewhat but I do lose some skin on my thigh, backside, back and arms to friction.

I fight to get upright again at once, but only make it to my knees. My hair sticks to my damp face and I wipe it back, lifting my head, and give a gasping cry because there's a tall, dark figure standing right at the edge of the trees.

And right beside him, there's another one.

They look utterly terrifying. They're mangled and bloody and their eyes are practically throwing sparks, that's how bright they are, shining in opposite colors again - mating fever, no doubt from the wild chase. Rune's tail is lashing left and right, the frayed end all twisted together and forming a point.

I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful in my life.

I should yell at them for not calling out to me or something, for chasing me through the freaking forest and letting me think that maybe I was still being followed by some hostile, for not letting me know that everything was okay sooner. Come to think of it, I should ask them whether everything is, in fact, okay or whether there are more other Dryth where those six (or seven) came from.

Instead I scramble to my feet, falling twice because my legs are leading the insurrection of my various overtaxed body parts against me, and eventually I manage to throw myself towards them with my arms wide. Luckily, they're already coming at me and catch me before I can fall a third time.

In Hollywood movies, the reunion scene is always full of deep kisses and tight embraces to swelling music. It's fierce but gentle and romantic.

We skip the gentle and romantic part, not just because they're both in their frenzy again as evidenced by their eye colors and the way that Rune's cock is pointing up at his own belly. I also need pure 'fierce' right now because my body is electrified with all the hormones that shut down all but the most primitive functions. I'm about to Tarzan-cry my agitation into the universe unless someone occupies my mouth otherwise right the fuck now.

We collide and I sob in relief, welcoming that feeling. It's like coming home, like being pain free for the first time in ages, and life suddenly and violently snaps into its place again.

Both of Bane's hands are around my throat and neck as he pulls me in for a kiss that bruises my lips. His tongue invades my mouth like he wants to crawl into me entirely and I don't complain. I grab the back of his head and pull myself closer, throwing myself into that ferocious mauling, sucking and biting him back.

Behind me, Rune grabs my hips without any preamble and slides his cock between my ass cheeks. It's slick, dripping and twitching, just the way I like it, and I gasp when his tip prods my clit and reach down to put my hand hard on top of his. His teeth more than just graze my neck and shoulder and right this second I can't think of anything more beautiful and necessary than a scar, like an autograph from him on my skin, a permanent testimony that I was here and he was here and we happened.

Their hands and teeth and lips and fingers are on me, their growly breaths billow across every square inch of my sweaty skin that isn't covered with their body heat and I feel their energy pushing through me, pushing my blood faster and harder in my every vein until there are waves rolling under my skin.

Rune quickly slides into the one unoccupied orifice that's left and the sensation of his ribbed cock passing through my tight muscle has me shuddering so hard Bane has to tighten his hold on me to keep me from just falling over.

Rune spreads my ass cheeks with his hands and groans. I can only imagine what it looks like where we are connected. I try to swivel my hips, silently begging him to move already, to get more deeply inside me, to pour himself into me, but he just stands and holds me still and pulses ever so gently.

Fuck that. I don't want gentle right now. I want to feel that all of us are alive. I manage to pull away from Bane's mouth for just a second to beg, "Rune... please!"

He just growls and digs his fingers deeper into my skin, my beautiful, feral crown prince, beyond words in his current state of arousal.

I slide my hand from the back of his hand up along his arm, then reach up to touch his shoulder, then the thick muscle of his neck, and eventually find his ear. The outer shell has a slightly jagged edge now and a few piercings less and I know that the fight with the other two Dryth has hurt him badly.