Larry waved us over to their pine picnic table. He had thoughtfully set out corn on the cob, American style french fries, water, and a salad bowl for a snack. He and Fawn had learned how much work went into marriage, and that no one family ever had it like the fairy tales. They had more good days than bad now, and Zhira was one reason why. I’d just sat down to grab an ear of corn, when my cellphone buzzed. An instant later, a shrill ringing came from an open window in their house.

Fawn grumbled and stalked toward the back screen door while I stayed outside with my cellphone so I could have a bit more peace and quiet since Larry and Zhira had followed her inside. Sinera, my secretary, didn’t waste any time with greetings.

“Fern, you have a potential client waiting for you here. What time shall I tell them you’ll be into the office?” I blinked.

“Umm, today’s Sunday. I’ll be in the office tomorrow morning.” I held the cellphone in front of me and checked the date. It agreed with me that it indeed was Sunday, and that at twenty-one Celsius, with clear skies, a hint of a north wind, and no threat of rain, it was a good day to be outside.

“I was contacted directly, and informed I must call you. I do not believe this is one client who will appreciate sitting in your office until tomorrow morning.”

The identity of the client was not my first thought. My first thought was how did she contact Sinera directly? Sinera’s an elf. She doesn’t have an official number. All of my calls get routed to an answering service when no one’s in the office, which is how weekends are, or are supposed to be. The immediate thought was that she’d been contacted magickally. If that was the case, it was someone we already knew because they knew of Sinera. Thinking about it, beyond my previous clients, who mostly preferred Magick stay away from them, had no idea how to get hold of Sinera. All I remember them using was the advertised phone number.

This person knew about Sinera well enough to contact her directly. That meant Elves. My potential client had to be an Elf. I have an aversion bordering on an allergy to Elves. Sinera is the notable exception. Elves live in Underhill. They do come to our world and trade goods, a number of them Magickal, for things they consider of value. Your guess is as good as mine what each one wants.

Elves are scrupulously truthful, but that does not mean they’re honest. An Elf will always look for the best way to present the truth and in such a manner so you want to believe it. They tell you what you want to hear using the truth as the lever and it’s a bit like the old joke about ‘Irish diplomacy’ which is telling someone to go to hell in such a manner they look forward to the trip.

The most classic example of Elves I can think of is trading something for a service. That the service could span generations of humans doesn’t make it any less legitimate, and it’s not slavery. It’s payment for a good or a service. It’s indentured servitude, but not slavery. The difference is slavery is forcing servitude on another, indenture is someone agreeing to it.

“Should I be concerned that we might be dealing with a fae?”

“I would say yes to the might.”

I stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking. Sinera politely gave me time to gather my thoughts.

“Is it someone that you and I are familiar with?”

“Yes, you have had unfortunate dealings in a legal decision some time ago.”

Legal decision. Only one person fit that description. Judge Caddus. He was forced to declare me beholden to the Elf Lord Cobb when I falsely accused him of deliberately bespelling me. His daughter did it, but the hard fact was he wasn’t the caster. No one except Cobb was happy with that, especially the Judge.

“Has he indicated what the reason for this emergency?”

“He has said he will only speak with you face to face, in your office.”

So not helpful.

“I’ll be there within the hour. If he offers anything in the way of a hint or explanation, give me a call. I’d like not to go in cold.”

“I will inform you if further information is revealed before you arrive.”

I ended the call and grabbed a second ear of corn. The Judge could wait a few more minutes. After nibbling my lunch, I walked to Fawn and Larry’s back door and stepped on inside to tell Fawn and Larry that I had to go over to my office. As I pulled the screen door open I spotted Fawn rummaging in the closet by the front door. She pulled out her police jacket she’d gotten as a new officer. She still wore it in preference to anything else. She settled it on her shoulders and flipped her blonde hair back, then bent down to give Zhira a hug.

“I have to go to work sweetie. I’ll be home soon.” She straightened up and shared a hug with Larry. They held onto each other for a moment more, looking into each others eyes until they noticed me watching.

“Hey shortstuff. I have to go in. There’s a crime that doesn’t appear standard. So the special unit will be covering it.”

I nodded. “It’s a day for it. I just got a call from Sinera that there’s a client who wants to see me now of all times. I have to go too.”

Larry reached down and picked up Zhira. She giggled and leaned over to Fawn to give her a kiss on the cheek. She then wiggled in Larry’s arm to give me one on the cheek and a pat of her hand.

“We keep corn” she said smiling.

“Yeah you will ‘cause it’s your favorite. I know you” I said with a chukcle. There’s something about laughing innocence that lightens any mood. Here I was going to talk with a Elven Judge, and all I could think of was how nice a day it was. Children are magic.

The good mood stayed with me on my drive over to the office. I pulled into the near empty parking lot and parked the dull black PT cruiser under the lone light post in the lot. It was still missing the rear seats, but I hardly used them. The large back without the seats allowed me to carry a whole lot of things. I felt a stab of melancholy as I got out, closed and locked the door. There not so many around now which made it stand out more. TO do my job I was likely going to have to get a newer old car so it would fit in more when I had to stake out an area. The bright blue sky gave the red brick a more vivid color as I walked to the front door. Reality intruded on my happy mood as I began considering more the reasons an Elf Judge would need to see me so desperately.

I couldn’t think of a reason why and that bothered me more the closer I got to my office. When I pushed the door open of my classic nineteen thirties noir style office, I took a moment to savor the gritty ambiance. Two four drawer file cabinets were bolted to the bottom of the Murphy bed in the far corner. The four-blade fan in the center of the ceiling turned silently on its refurbished bearings over my large Oak desk with candlestick phone and new Rolodex that sat in gleaming black on the polished wood. The new bricks on the repaired section of wall next to the Murphy bed stood out against the older faded ones.

The only bit of ambiance missing was the neon glow of the building’s sign because it was too light outside for it’s orange color to be seen. This was home, moreso than any other place I’d lived.

Judge Caddus was in the guest chair next to my desk, in full formal dress. His dark blue robe covered him from shoulder to ankle and his boots were of bright blue laquered leather with some silver highlights. His pale hair was in a long tail between his shoulders. He stood up and bowed politely as I moved to my desk and sat down. He sat after me, the action telling me that he was requesting my help rather than standing and demanding it. Sinera had schooled me on some of the Elvish eitquette.

Whoever bows lower is the one requesting the meeting, and who stands last is the one who is petitioning the other for assistance. If they remain standing, they will be negotiating from a position of power and making demands. If they sit last, then it will be as a potential ally or looking for assistance. When both stand and sit at the same time with the other party, it is an armed truce to negotiate a settlement between them.

That he sat with me and stood until I began sitting meant he was not trying to pull rank. He was genuinely concerned about something, and that something was extremely upsetting, if I understood Sinera’s lessons properly. I smiled and did what I always did, start with small talk. It gets people, most of them, to be more at ease.

“Hello, Judge. It’s been a while since the last time we saw each other. I’m hoping you have been doing well for yourself.” He looked at me like I’d grown horns and hissed at him. Too late. Whatever gaffe I’d done I did accidentally. Judge Caddus calmed himself and realized the mistake. He actually smiled, if the faint raising of the lips was an Elvish smile.

“I am also unfamiliar with proper human reaction and form. Let us both understand our differences and allow each the room for unintentional error.”

I smiled. He’d spotted the problem and offered a complete solution that blamed neither and focused on understanding. I am nowhere near so diplomatic. I much preferred not fighting, but I had little tolerance for errors that could be avoided with a little effort such as study or practice.

I nodded to indicate I noticed his layered solution.

“Yes, let’s not get in a fight because of a misinterpretation of someone’s intent.” I paused a moment to let him consider the words. “If I am not being overbearing, may I ask what had you contact my partner Sinera directly and request this meeting on a day that is almost never an office work day?”

He stared at me for a long moment. His eyes locked on mine and I don’t think he ever blinked. He sat and stared, as if trying to find a way to broach a subject. Finally he sighed, then reached up a sleeve on his robe. He took a few moments to locate something by touch, then removed his closed hand and placed on my desk in front of me. He opened his hand and withdrew it, leaving behind a small metallic-like blue glass bottle. The same kind of bottle that cost my friend Zhirk his life and Hervald Thensome his soul.

I’m not sure if I shrieked and scrambled back or just teleported to where I was, mashed back against the wall next to the window that had been replaced during that first hellish case. The Judge, thoroughly alarmed at my reaction quickly grabbed my coffee mug and placed it over the bottle, covering it and hiding it from sight.

I struggled for breath for a few moments before the adrenaline shakes hit. I was scared to death. I had smashed that thing! At PEI Anolyn had deliberately targeted the box with glass bottles and burned it to ash, along with the huge oak tree that Cobb had used as a torture chamber to make them from the agony and despair of his victims.

I could hear Kent Nix and Kevin Love scream their lives out all over again. More than anything at that moment, I wanted to grab the bottle of scotch and drown my fear in the bitter alcohol and forget that cursed thing under my upended coffee cup. It’d taken the better part of a year of twice-weekly therapy to finally get a control on all the trauma that went with the previous jobs. My head was more or less back on straight, and I didn’t wake up screaming or paralyzed by nightmares.

Now, that thing shows up on my desk out of the blue. Well, blue robes anyway. Snark and sarcasm has always been a way I handle stress. It just isn’t the best choice because giving someone attitude when they’ve got the upper hand is just begging for bad things to happen. It had more than once and somehow I managed to avoid most of the bad intentions sent my way. I rubbed the nub of my little finger while Judge Caddus attempted to apologize by bowing his head almost to the desk top in contrition. Now was the time to use that diplomatic moment.

“Judge Ca-ddus. I apologize for alarming you.” I took a shaky breath and walked back to my chair, turned it deliberately slowly back to the desk and sat down. “That item you thoughtfully brought me has many bad memories and experiences tied to it. I, uh, did not realize that any still existed.” Another shaky but calmer breath helped focus me. I closed my eyes and pictured my room mentally, using its familiarity as a calming influence for my body. I could feel the wire-tight tension ease as I mentally pictured each item in the room.

“I humbly accept your generosity and would have you know I meant no disrespect nor harmful intent. You are one of the few that know the nature of that creation and I am very desirous of temporarily procuring your abilities and expertise to determine the reason for its reappearance.” He gestured at my cup. “This was found in the hands of an Elf that had used it to overwhelm a Troll. The Elf has been judged and executed in accordance and balance to the crime committed. I have brought this to you to request your expert assistance.”

In truth, I never had a job I wanted to turn down so badly as this one. But one thing had changed my mind. The Troll. I saw Zhirk, who Zhira was named after, in my head. His face dissolving in the shotgun blast. I shut my eyes again and went through my office again mentally, remembering where each item of my office was. It helped divert my mind from the horror of those vivid memories and let me release them instead of replaying each one again and again in my head.

“Judge Caddus, I must admit I would rather never to have anything to do with that object you brought.” I held up a hand as his face screwed up in stricken despair, which was a shock to see on his normally serene and stoic features. “I will help you. One thing I am sure we both have learned is that if you do nothing, evil like that flourishes.”

There was a faint ‘snap’ like a static shock. I, for better AND worse now, had a binding fae contract with the Judge. Gods and powers, I sounded like a freaking superhero or something. How much more pompous could I sound? I guess it was the right bit of bombast, because the Judge’s features smoothed out and I think I detected relief emanating from him.

“I thank you for your reminder that no one being need stand alone. We have to trust, and reach out to confront imbalance and chaos.” That was one way to put it. I’m certain I don’t mind imbalance and chaos, we humans live with that all the time. Perhaps they look at Imbalance as Injustice. I don’t know for certain. What I was absolutely sure of however, was that bottle was made to cause misery and death. Ahiah had drunk from it and become immensely powerful.

That was burned into my memories. What I wasn’t sure of was the ‘why’. Why did it show up? Why did and Elf have it? I could somewhat understand his coming here. I was mixed up in that horror before. Both I and Fawn.

I’m certain he came to me because of our prior meeting, rather than go to Fawn. She represents human law, and Elvish law is not close at all to it. What we judge by is intent and morals of our society. What Elves judge are certainly not on those qualities. I’m not certain what they are based upon, but one thing we are certain of is Elves despise Magick used for ill. They rightly hate and fear those powers that have free will to meddle in the physical world, especially those of malevolent nature.

Be it human, fae, or other, it was a monster that needed be caught and put away. I’d prefer it gone and buried and the bottles broken and tossed in the ocean. The problem would be to hunt it down. Which meant locating the source of the one the Judge had brought.

I looked over at the cup resting over the cursed bottle. “Judge Caddus, where did you acquire that particular item?” Diplomacy. Yep. No vicious names for things. No strong emotions. Nope, not a thing to unbalance the calm, or whatever passed for it currently.

“The bottle was procured from the remains of a burned oak on what you name Prince Edward Island.”

I went cold with memories again. Cobb. The tree. Kent and Kevin. Anolyn. Being possessed by him, and his rage at Cobb for making those abominations. I’d thought the dragon fire would have burnt them all. I looked up at the Judge, who seemed anything but calm now that we were discussing the main reason for our meeting. He appeared suddenly careworn. Deep lines were etched on his face that I hadn’t noticed earlier. Fae magic or just normal human inattention. Neither he or I reached for the cup to expose the bottle underneath.

“In the reopening of the Way, we found the devastation that had been wrought upon the tree, and the abominations that were warped into its heart. We found the remains, and the tools to create.” He paused, as if to add a more colorful term, but refrained and continued. “We found a crate made of bespelled wood which had been destroyed by dragon fire. The Bottles inside melted and rendered inert.” He paused for a moment, like he was a movie actor about to dispense an ominous statement to make the audience gasp.

“There were four empty locations in the crate. We procured this one from an Elf that had used it on his own.”

My stomach churned at the thought of three of those things loose. But why Halifax? Wouldn’t the United States be a more fertile hunting ground for the users? Why here?

“I have found myself wondering why we are the recipient of such a menace” Judge Caddus said quietly. He paused a moment, then continued. “It would much simpler to go where the population is greatest. There one could hunt and use the bottle to their heart’s content. Disappearances would be lost in the myriad of other disappearances that occur daily in large populations. Nova Scotia is far from being a huge metropolis such as London. What reasoning would bring something so dangerous here?”

We were on the same wavelength, which made me wonder at the apparent coincidence. With Elves, never expect coincidence. I learned that already. Never ever trust in coincidence. It will trip you up at the worst possible time. So using the ‘there are no coincidences’ rule, the Judge was reading my mind or following my intent and using that to reinforce the idea in hopes of something breaking loose. I suppose it’s his method of helping, but, soooo not helpful.

“If you’re observing my thoughts, I recommend against it. Agreements of that nature do not help discovering new paths. Right now I’d love to talk to the person who had this bottle in their possession. Asking the right questions could get us answers where the others are.”

He bowed contritely. “I do apologize. This is a very dangerous investigation. I had hoped to assist in creating active thoughts that would find a method of advancing along this perilous conundrum. Please forgive my earnest error. I meant no insult nor harm.” Take note. He did apologize for his enthusiasm, not for trying to manipulate my thoughts. Always pay attention to what Elves say, and more to what they DON’T. I decided to let it go. In his own way, the Judge was doing his best to be helpful and cooperative. My job, as I saw it, was to track down the rest of the bottles. Just how was the real question.

Elizabeth walked slowly past navigation and listened to the animated chatter at the stations.  They’re all excited.  It’s not every day we find a new species.  She’d noted that while nearing the end of the shift, all crew on deck were awake and talking animatedly with each other. She smiled at the speculation about the alien on board.

She pulled up the EVA list again, checking it before sending it to the captain.  Ratko, Rusty, Gogo, Lenz, Martine, Singh.  All have their certificates for EVA.   She allowed herself a smile.  We’re treasure hunters!  To think I had to go to a lottery for spots on the first EVA.  Most everyone would avoid that kind of duty.  Not this time.  They were all over each other to be first out the door.

This is going to be the big topic at mess tonight.  Everyone will have something they’re sure to have heard from someone, somewhere, that they’ll swear is the truth.  Always plenty of scuttlebutt to go around.  I wonder what will be the truth.  She..it..has wings.  Rusty called it an angel.  It’s like a fantasy novel!

A tremor vibrated the deck, like a heavy wheeled truck going by a house.  Elizabeth turned a puzzled look to navigation.  “Microgravity?” she asked Pyrafox.

His reply was drowned by the blare of the emergency sirens.  Elizabeth rushed to her post and saw that the infirmary sensors reported an explosion before going offline. “I have no visuals of the explosion site, Commander”,  Hawkes reported.   “Damage Control, deck two, infirmary, explosion, possible fire”, she shouted into the comm. As she finished, there was a second vibration through the ship. What is going on down there?, Elizabeth wondered.  Hope!,  She was in the med bay.  Was she caught in the blast?  Is there anyone else?  She checked the patient list.  A cold lump settled in her stomach.  Right at the top of the list, scheduled for a follow up exam, was Russell Rayna.  Rusty!  She swallowed her fear and focused on the job, tapping the infirmary channel open.

“Infirmary, report!” Elizabeth said firmly, then waited a few moments.  “Infirmary?”  She tapped a second channel. ‘`Damage Control, what’s your status?”, she demanded.  “Ratko here, we’re enroute.  Our board said the quarantine room got slagged”, Ratko said between breaths.  Elizabeth could hear his footsteps as he ran towards the infirmary.  “Singh, send the Commander an update and hotfoot it once you’re done.  Sensors just went down,  we’re blind until we get on-site”, she heard Ratko say. 

“Understood, use caution when you get close”, she told him.  “Ya think, Lizzy?”, Ratko replied.  “I sure do”, Elizabeth answered, then asked, “What’s your ETA?”  Ratko was quiet for a few moments.  She heard his feet shuffle along the deck and the sound of metal scraping on metal.   “Two minutes, we’ve got jaws and jacks for beams and heavy stuff if we need them, and two trauma kits.  We can’t get there any faster, unless we had a way of teleporting there.”   “Hey you three, grab those breaker bars, we may need them”, Ratko said.

Elizabeth’s board blinked and beeped as The captain called in.  “What just happened, and what information have you got, Commander?”, Captain Devereux asked her as the hologram cube enlarged to hand size. Elizabeth noted her hair was wet and had soaked her collar.  Caught you in the shower, she thought at Devereux.    “Minimal information. An explosion’s been reported at the infirmary, some kind of accident’s taken down sensors, and damage control’s enroute.  Hawkes is working on getting his security team online so he can get an assessment.”  

“Is..”, Devereux started to ask, then Hawkes announced, “  The hull is intact. No decrease in atmospheric pressure.”  “That’s fine, now find out what the situation is”, Devereux said.  “On it,” Gho replied quickly.  Her fingers flew across her board as she checked every sensor feed near the damaged ones.  “No direct picture, or sound, Captain’, Lieutenant Gho said, frowning in concentration.    “Find me something, anything.  I want to know what’s going on by the time I get to the bridge”, the captain said tersely.

#

Rusty instinctively grabbed Hope, half rolling to put his back to the danger just as the first explosion hit.  He felt himself lifted like a toy and hurled away.  Another half rotation and he slammed into the storage shelves.  His head smashed into a bottle, crushing it and leaking cool liquid all over him.  He fell to  the floor, dazed, still gripping Hope tight against his chest, and blind from blood coursing into his eyes.  Through the fog that threatened to drag him into unconsciousness,  he kept trying to put himself between Hope and whatever had happened.  Morris, that … kick …what happened? My head … like wool.  What … was … I try … run over?  He flexed his arms, finding he had them around something.  

What is, he felt the thing shift when he squeezed, and a thin moan of pain came from the figure in his arms.  Who is this.  I … know her…can’t … think.  He started to shake the cobwebs out when he suddenly had an urge to tighten his grip and roll. He started to roll away from the wall, then reversed, throwing the person between him and the wall.  The sense, the absolute need, to protect the thing in his arms had him hugging the person tight against his chest as he was hammered by a chunk of wall.  Rusty screamed in agony.  

I’m gonna die here, I want to live!  I have to run! He thought desperately.  He tried to make his body respond, but found himself  rolling on top of Hope, and taking another shock to his body when the diagnostic table collapsed.  He braced just before the table slammed into him, keeping himself and the table from crushing the helpless Hope.  He could hear voices yelling, but his head was throbbing too much to make sense of the words.  He collapsed next to Hope, the table laying on him at an angle, covering him and Hope.

Focus … focus on the words, Rayna.  Clear your head.  A shadow of motion flowed past him in liquid desperation.  “Sykes! Roll man, roll!”, screamed a voice towards the direction his head pointed..  He felt warmth and a light passed his head as a concussive blast made the floor jump.  Loose medical supplies and equipment cascaded down on him.

“Holy jumped up Jeebus!  Tug!  You okay?!”, yelled a voice past his feet.  I know that voice, why can’t I remember?

“I’m freaking wonderful!”, came from his head direction in reply. “Where did it get that energy weapon?!”  Who are they?  If I could think. 

There was an odd, raspy growl-like hiss from somewhere to his back.  A sudden, heavy blast of wind knocked the last of the medical supplies from the shelves down onto him and Hope.  How much stuff is up on those shelves?  Rusty moved, and the table shifted.  Small bottles and packages dribbled off with small thunks onto the deck. 

“It can fly?!”, said the Sykes voice.  

“I see the Chief!  He’s moving.  Stay down, sir.  Stay down until it’s safe.”, the Sykes voice said with an urgent calm.  Stay down?  Just how safe is it here?  The Doc, I can’t leave her here.  He winced as he shifted again, a sharp pain in his wrist that made his eyes water.  An involuntary hiss of pain brought a growl from his back, and the whine of laser fire from his feet and head directions.  The rasping, growing hiss repeated, with a series of liquid-sounding words that Rusty could almost recognize.

“Back up!  Back up!”, Tuggle said suddenly.  “Don’t move…oh Jeebus”.   There was another whine of laser fire, and another flash of heat and light.  A shock wave bounced Rusty off the floor.  He didn’t have the balance to catch himself.  The snapping bone sounded like a small explosion as his full weight came down on the damaged wrist.  Shock and pain enveloped him, and dragged him down into darkness.

#

“What in all of dark space is going on?!”, Captain Devereux said as she stepped onto the bridge.  Her glare seemed like, if it were possible, she would use it to burn a way to the Infirmary.   “Still trying to get an alternate feed for the sensors captain”, Hawkes replied.  She took deep breaths.  If it was just me, I’d jump in and run hard and fast, and let the chips fall.  As captain of a ship, I make a mistake, it’s magnified.  Anyone under my command would have to live with the fallout. The mantra focused and calmed her, letting her make sense of the activity.

She watched Hawkes’ hands fly across the tactical board.  He didn’t seem to be having any luck in getting a feed, any more than his previous efforts at establishing a visual link to his team.  Blind, or might as well be for all the good the system is doing us.  It’s time for a decision.   “Hawkes, go to the Infirmary and take charge of the situation.  Pryafox, borrow Martine and see if you can find a way to get the feeds around the infirmary up.  Commander, set up an emergency infirmary.  Assign four with EMT training to it in case it’s needed.”

“On it, Captain”, Elizabeth replied, and began tapping her tablet.  Hawkes stood up, and went for the door, murmuring orders to his headset and tapping his tablet, getting reinforcements to join him enroute.  Pryafox stepped from his science console to tactical and was joined by Ensign Martine as they tried to figure out if there was a re-routing solution.  As they were working, there was another vibration in the deck. 

“Commander, how is air pressure?”, she asked Elizabeth.  “No loss of pressure anywhere in the ship.  Damage Control is still being held back by security.”, Elizabeth told her. Devereux ran her hand through her hair.  Blind, I hate this.  Pryafox spoke up.  “Security says the alien is up and active, and armed with some kind of energy weapon.”  

“What did it do, take one off of security?”, Devereux asked.  “I don’t know captain, let me turn on the audio feed”, Gho replied.  The sound of an odd hissing rasp, and a liquid sounding series of syllables leapt into life as Gho switched the security feed to the speakers. 

“What’s she saying, Tug?”, came Sykes voice. 

“You ask her, I don’t speak alien.”

“Where’s the weapon?  You got eyes on the weapon?”, Sykes queried again. 

“I don’t see one, maybe it got dropped”, Tuggle replied tensely. 

“Stay down!  Jeebus, she just ripped the table off the floor anchors”, Sykes said.  There was another liquid series of sounds, then a heavy crash. 

“Sykes?!”, Tuggle yelled. 

“It missed, she’s got lousy aim”,  Sykes replied. 

“Security, can you subdue the alien?” Devereux broke in.   

There was a momentary pause before both Sykes and Tuggle said “no!”, almost in unison.  “We need sonics  or a tranq.  We got neither”, Tuggle said ill-temperedly.   “Any stuff we might have used is on the floor on top of the Chief and the Doc”, he finished.

“Captain, there’s no way to get a feed.  The paths have been either fried or severed somehow”, Gho said, then cursed under her breath.  Her fingers flew over the tactical board.  “Dumb, dumb, dumb!  We’re trying to get the feeds in the room!  We can access the security team’s personal views from their badges.”  She finished then thumped the console.  Images of a table leg filled the screen, along with slivers of bright light around the left edge.   The name on the view was ‘Tuggle, B. C., Sgt’.

“Good job Lieutenant”, Devereux told Gho.  “We can at least see something, and that will help.”  Gho nodded, and split the screen, showing the layout of the Infirmary, then superimposing both Tuggle, Sykes, and the alien in the room.  “The alien is a best guess, it doesn’t have a comm unit”, Gho said in a tense calm.

“Sergeant Tuggle, Sergeant Sykes,  hold your positions.”, Hawkes’ voice broke in over the chatter.  “Identify where the alien is in the room”, he said tersely.  “Uh, by the medical tables and beds.  Three steps from the quarantine room”,  Sykes replied.  He then added, “I’m just inside the door to the left behind a wrecked table, and Tug is back behind the Doc’s desk.”  Two other dots lit up on the screen.  Both were huddled close to a wall, roughly halfway between Sykes and Tuggle’s positions.  The dot closest to the wall identified as the Medical Officer, the other showed as the Chief Engineer.

Devereux looked at the dots.  Hawkes would have a clear line of sight from the door to the alien.  “Lieutenant Hawkes, the situation is a stalemate at the moment.  The alien isn’t shooting, so see if you can get to the Chief and Hope without starting a firefight, and pull them clear.”  

“Yes, Captain”, replied Hawkes.  “I will attempt the rescue.”   Now if no one starts shooting, we might be able to talk it down and defuse this, Devereux told herself.

#

Hawkes stopped when he spotted the winged alien.  It was, as located, approximately two meters from the quarantine door.  He leaned against the corner, protected by the hallway wall, four meters from the Infirmary doorway.   It’s on the ground, wings partly open…is that a part of a diagnostic screen in its hand?   

He looked to his left and saw a portion of a medical table poking from the wall. The main lighting was off, and the emergency lighting had activated.  Their dim, harsh colors of the light pods created the sense of a combat zone to the scene.  A large chunk of the door frame of the infirmary was missing.  Hawkes noted that it appeared singed and melted. A hole similar in size to the damaged hatchway was a quarter-meter above his head.  The blast had continued through the metal, exiting slightly behind him and expended itself against the ceiling.  

Small bits of plastic and metal littered the deck from the corner down the hall.  There is some kind of weapon, I don’t see where it is being carried.  The creature seems improvising weaponry. Is that deliberate thought, or merely a reaction to being cornered?.  I need more information.  What kind of weapon threw the table into the wall?  Or was it a weapon, Perhaps the creature?.  He tapped his wrist comm, then keyed the security channel.  “Sergeant Sykes, Sergeant Tuggle, can you confirm an energy weapon in the alien’s possession?”

“It’s got one, guaranteed.”, Sykes responded.  “It blew a huge chunk of the door out by me.” 

“It wasn’t a weapon, L T, it was her”, Tuggle said quietly.  “I saw the last shot, it came from her hands.”    From her hands.  Embedded weaponry is not unheard of.  That usually means special combatants.  If so, this isn’t a Star Blood derivative.  None have internal weapons.  Which means it is likely not Aerian, either, despite the vague external similarity.

“Sergeant Tuggle, can you see either the Chief Engineer or the Medical Officer from your location?”

“I can see both of them.  They’re half covered by medical supplies”, Tuggle responded.  A fluting hiss came from the alien as Tuggle spoke, it’s attention focusing on the noise.  It raised the chunk of table as if readying to throw. Hawkes immediately brought the sonic emitter to eye level, aiming it at the alien.  The creature noticed the movement, and Hawkes felt the intensity of its gaze.  He ignored the feeling of impending mayhem, concentrating on his target.

This feels like a mistake, but I cannot lower my weapon while it is armed.  Too much chance of casualties if it is fast as a Star Blood.  The standoff continued, Hawkes maintaining his aim, and the alien watching Hawkes.  “L T, I can’t…”, Sykes began, and the noise caught the alien’s attention.  It screamed and threw the table, it’s arm a whitish blur.  The impromptu missile bulleted through the infirmary hatchway, blowing itself to shrapnel against the metal bulkhead  next to Hawkes.  

The impact made a near torso-sized dent in the bulkhead, and Hawkes instinctively pulled back around the corner.  Small bits of metal and plastic bounced across the deck while the alien made another fluting hiss,  and crouched, it’s wings mantling about it like a bird of prey.  “Sykes, are you injured?”, Hawkes said quietly, drawing the alien’s immediate attention.  “Shh”, Sykes whispered.   The alien’s head snapped to gaze down and to her right.   Is it blind?  It’s orienting immediately with any sound.  If that is the case, the sonic emitter may be more effective than the simulations projected.

Hawkes slowly slid back to the corner, and braced against the bulkhead, sonic emitter aimed at the alien.  He had a perfect shot.  The alien was fully framed by the hatchway, still three meters from the quarantine door.  If I take it and the emitter does work, then we have the standoff controlled.  Why is it so hard to take the shot?  I don’t know if the emitter will work.  It’s not a Star Blood.  If the emitter doesn’t work, the creature could well attack my men, and the Chief Engineer and the Medical Officer.  Prudence says it is better to wait, until I can gather more information, or until there is no other option.

#

Hope regained consciousness, feeling sick and disoriented.  As her head cleared, she remembered the explosion.  The quarantine room exploded. I must have been thrown away from the blast. She felt the cold, wet liquid,  soaking her right sleeve near the wrist, and a heavy weight across her waist.  Liquid is cold, so not bleeding. She focused on the things she could feel, noting size, shape, and hardness. Bandage boxes, vials, and bottles. I must be against the storage shelves.   She next concentrated on her extremities.  Hands and fingers flexed, sore but thankfully unbroken.

She extended her focus to her arms, moving and flexing the right, which moved easily, and the left, which ground bone on bone oddly, making Hope stop after a brief motion..  Dislocation, likely due to impact. Numb. Bones unbroken, indicating impact against a softer surface than the shelving.  This weight must be what cushioned the impact against the shelves.  I can smell the calcium and protein powders for the tissue builder.  

The containers must be spilled.  Nothing toxic other than the alcohol.  She focused on the arrangement of the shelves, remembering the location of material on each.  I am midway between the doorway and the desk.  Nothing on the shelves that would explain the large weight.  What is it?  She  thought back to just before the explosion.  One of security?  No,  the Chief Engineer, he followed me back into the Infirmary. His body must have taken the impact against the shelving wall.  

She returned to her self-inspection.  I need to determine my injuries before I can be of any benefit to the Chief Engineer.  She flexed her left foot, feeling a sharp pain as broken bones ground together.  She stopped moving the foot, and tried the other.  It flexed stiffly, and without pain.  Broken foot, bones in arch broken, arch collapsed, causing the pain,  she told herself.   She focused on the pain, forcing it into a small portion of her mind, walling the sensation off.

“Don’t move”, came a strained whisper towards her feet.  “It’s watching you.”   She recognized the security guard’s voice.  Sergeant Tuggle.    The tenseness in his voice stopped her self-inspection.  The creature awoke, and destroyed the quarantine room.  It must be near.  A fluting hiss from past her head confirmed her guess.  It has us trapped here.  A metallic rending sound caught Hope’s attention. 

“Jeebus, it just tore the table off the mounts”, Tuggle said tensely.

“Sergeant Tuggle, can you reach the Chief Engineer, or the Medical Officer?”  “The Doc’s awake, Tuggle whispered then “OH SH…!”  She heard him roll across the floor as the floor seemed to jump.  Hope’s head smacked against the floor, stunning  her.  She heard vaguely the impact of the desk against the back wall.

The creature’s shrieks of rage filled Hope’s tortured senses with images of explosions, and a painful knowledge that home was gone.  She felt, actually shared, the loss, and the despair. Hope wondered if the mind behind that voice was even sane.

It, she, Hope amended, screeched again, the sound battering at her ears.  She thought she heard words. Indistinct, and horribly mangled, but words nonetheless.

<< You dare attack a Star Wing?!  You will not live to regret your action! >>

Light started to build, and the smell of ozone.

Hope tried to shout, but all she managed was a croaking voice, a ragged whisper,

< Stop >.

The light winked out. Silence descended on the infirmary.  The only sound was the hyperventilating of the two guards.   Hope felt vibrations in the deck.  Boxes and bandages were blown away by a blast of wind, and the Chief Engineer was lifted and thrown away from her, landing heavily on the deck.  She shifted uncomfortably as circulation pulsed down into starved tissues. There is no pain.  She felt hands lift her up amidst screamed orders by the guards to put her down. Laser fire struck the winged creature, and was ignored.  Hope turned her head away from the blistering heat.

She felt herself lowered to the deck with incredible gentleness.  She balanced on her good foot, one hand on the wall to keep the weight off the broken foot.  Once she was upright, the winged being knelt low before her, bowing her head. In mangled Aerian, it whispered  <<Reverence>>