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The Technician's Fight, Draft 1, CH32
🕑 Added 2025-09-02 13:00:08 +0000 UTCThe hangar was the definition of chaos to Jeremy, with Kelsirians in hunter armor moving about among personnel from Repairs, Maintenance, and a few other departments, by the variation on the utility belts. His pack followed their beta through it, moving out of the way of someone hurrying, or someone stepping out of theirs, until they boarded a shuttle.
A pack was already seated on one side. Their beta, a muscular female with claws that had a metallic sheen to them, stood. “You may address me as beta Grinlark Trorel Roshkirak,” she greeted them.
“And I, beta Thuruk sel Minial. I was expecting a third pack.”
“They’re taking their time prettying themselves up,” the female replied, while Jeremy and his pack took seats on the opposite side of the shuttle, leaving the center ones for the late pack. “We’re also waiting on the pilot. So long as that pack’s here before them, no one can complain.”
Ear code was exchanged between the packs, mostly greetings, as far as he made out. He’d been studying them, but not being able to respond had taken away some of the motivation to do an indepth dive into those manuals.
“Any idea who we’re getting?” she asked, and Thur shook his head, taking his seat.
As she returned to hers, a pack entered. “You can relax,” the second male behind the beta said. “Special ops is here.”
Unlike the other two packs, their armor was sleek, and Jeremy couldn’t work out the material. There was a reflectiveness to the black that spoke of polished long-strands polymers, but those didn’t come with the flexibility he saw. On top of the gun and charge packs, each had different set of devices attached to their armor.
Thur groaned lightly, and Jeremy raised an eyebrow. That had sounded a lot like distaste.
“I’m beta Zorfiel Frasgormilan,” the beta introduced herself. She had a helmet under her arm, where the others of her pack had theirs attached to their vests. “What’s the eta for departure?”
“We’re waiting on the pilot,” Thur said. “I’m beta Thuruk sel Minial, that’s beta Grinlark Trorel Roshikarak.”
“They still call you cub?” the male dropping in the seat facing Jeremy asked. He was lean, the short fur on his head—all that was visible—was a deep orange, almost red, with black rosettes. Jeremy identified a few of the devices on his belt as scanners. One for power, another was to material tensile strength, the two others he didn’t recognize.
“I am the youngest, Hunter Jeremy Bradshaw.”
“Hunter Frostnees Tomiran sel Tutecamo,” the male replied. “Before you ask, I bring my namesake to anything that gets in our way.”
Jeremy looked to the others for an explanation.
“His namesake,” Grisnir said, “is Tutecamongartin.”
“God of death,” Jeremy said, having gotten that much. Sel always indicated one of the gods was used for the name preceding or following it. There were no gods with something approaching Tomiran in their names. “It’s the bringing him to things that get in their way I’m not getting.”
“I bring death and destruction to any object that dares block our path.”
“You know, just opening doors easier, right?” Thur said with some disdain. The folded ears showed he’d realized his lapse, but no one in the other pack commented.
“I only get involved when the door’s being stubborn.”
“Don’t be too put off by them,” Trose said. “Special ops hunters are….”
“Eccentric is the term you are looking for,” a female said. “Yarikaderimi Orshteriptar.”
“No, definitely not the term I was thinking of using,” Trose replied, grinning. “Mine leaned closer to insane.”
“That’s what makes us so effective,” another female said. “We make love to Gezbiliam the entire operation. Krasythermer Fronk Persirian,” she added as introduction. “I do persuasions.”
“That means if we need something from someone, she handled it,” the previous female said. “I do it if to machines.”
“Everyone in place?” a familiar voice said, although Jeremy had never heard his friend sounding this authoritative.
“Toom? What are you doing here?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“My job. Alright—”
“You’re a hunter?”
“Of course not. I’m not suicidal.”
“The best pilots are almost never hunters,” Thur said.
“Which means we don’t usually get to have one of them,” a male from the Special ops said. “What merits us getting you?”
“I’m guessing it’s me,” Jeremy said.
“Yes,” Toom answered, “but also no. This mission is important, so you get the best the Bane has to offer. For the duration of the trip, this shuttle is mine. That means I have Rank. You’re welcome to talk, move about, even have sex, for all I care, but if I address you, I want silence in return. If I ask questions, I want answers. And once we dock, you’re leaving with whatever you’re wearing, so make sure you time things appropriately. Any questions?”
“You’ve been informed we’re leaving before docking?” beta Zorfiel Frasgormilan asked.
“I have. I’ve been given your departure location. If you plan on changing that, tell me well before we get there because there’s only so much I can do to make a change in path look like this baby’s giving me trouble.”
“No alterations to the plan at this point,” she replied, and Toom vanished in the cockpit.
“So, who’s for getting to know each other better?” a female from the Special ops pack asked.
No one answered.
*
“Approaching departure point,” Toom announced. “Gezbiliam’s whelps better get ready now. And hope you’re all dressed. It’s really cold out there.”
Unlike what Jeremy had expected, once the initial tension thawed, sex hadn’t happened. Either too many of his friends were more sexual than the norm, or he was projecting how he wished he could pass the hours of flight on the others. Talking wasn’t as much of a distraction as he wished it was.
The special ops pack stood, putting their helmets on and, as they headed for the back, the texture of their armors changed, becoming non-reflective.
“Shifting polymer,” a female from the other pack said. “Something one of the Builders came up with, is what I’ve heard.” Introductions had been made, but Jeremy barely remembered the names. He was having a hard time keeping his mind on the now. He kept having to stop himself from imagining what waited for them.
“What are they going to do, again?” he forced himself to ask. Like the names, a lot of the conversations hadn’t stuck.
“Get into the pirate ship from the outside,” Urum answered.
“How are they reaching it?” He hadn’t seen any kind of propulsion on them.
“Ion surfing, I think,” the female who’d talked about the shifting polymer said. “Special ops plays with a lot of stuff only people intimate with Gezbiliam consider touching.”
“Untested tech,” Yamilk said.
“It’s tested once they’re done with it,” a male from the other pack said.
“Pilot,” Thur said. “ETA to docking?”
“Fifteen.”
*
“Beta Grinlark Trorel Roshkirak,” Thur said, standing to the sounds of the shuttle being attached to the station. “Stay inside until you receive the scan of the dock.”
“Then we deploy discreetly to provide cover.”
“While we meet with the Earthers and buy the pack inside the ship time to gain control. Once that happens, we subdue them and work on finding out where the prisoners have been taken. Pilot, any information from the Bane regarding that?”
“No, and we stopped receiving signals about the time Special ops left. We are fully inside a scramble field. No telling what comms will be like.”
“Testing,” came in Jeremy’s ears from a voice he didn’t recognize.
“Looks to be working,” a female said. “It’s probably targeted, since anything else would get in their way as much as ours.”
“You’re the ones with the experience,” Toom replied. “Docking complete. I’ll be here waiting to get you back as soon as you board. Try not to bring back any pest. I have standards.”
“Any pests we bring,” Skaram said, “will be in a box, and the outside sanitized.”
Jeremy forced his breathing to remain steady as they exited. The rest of his pack seemed to take this as if it was no different than an outing on a mercantile station, but he knew it was species’ difference. They were wired not to tense until they needed to act, while he…definitely wasn’t. He needed to ask Bob how he dealt with it.
“Bay eighteen, spin wise,” Thur said.
“Was that to protect us, or them?” Iatirin asked.
“The station,” Natril replied. “If they fired on us from their ship, debris would damage the hull. Explosions grant a lot of velocity to anything flying away.”
“Which converts into kinetics on impact,” Jeremy added to think about something in the now.
“You okay, cub?” Grisnir asked.
“I so want this to be over so I can take a shower and just relax.”
“We need to work harder at teaching him not to stress early,” Skaram said.
“I don’t know if we can,” Urum replied. “I certainly tried everything I can think of.”
“Sexual exhaustion isn’t a good way,” Thur said. “The goal is for him to remain alert.”
“I could do with being less alert right now.” He kept looking to their right and left, thinking someone was there, gun pointed at them.
“Ahead,” Natril said. “Earthers by the hatch. That’d be them.”
Three, which became nine as one looked in, and others exited.
“Remember, the goal is time,” Thur said.
The Earthers’ weapons became visible early, large rifles and guns.
“I want one of each,” Trose said.
“Worry about adding to your collection after the hunt is done.”
They stopped thirty paces away.
“We told you to come alone,” the male Earther in the lead said.
“We don’t let one of ours step into hostile territory unprotected,” Thur replied in English.
“Wow, you’ve got them well trained. You’d think he learned the language back on Earth.”
“Where are the prisoners?” the beta asked.
The Earther put a finger in his ears and looked puzzled. “Must have been a fluke. All I heard now is this pitiful meowing.” Those with him laughed.
Thur looked at Jeremy and nodded.
“I’m here. Where are the prisoners?”
“Oh, they’re here. Somewhere.”
“The deal was, I cam in exchange for them.”
“And I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to believe that. I guess all this time with the cats made you lose your edge. Send the signal. They can blow up that ship now.”
The reaction was almost too fast for Jeremy to take in, even as he moved. Halfway through the last phrase, his pack had crossed the distance before it was finished. By the time he reached the fight, three Earthers were down, throats open.
Then he dodged and blocked, and struck, claws out.
He’d expected people with training. Military, even; but the fight was over too fast for that. They hadn’t even tried to put distance between them, forcing the Kelsirians to exhaust themselves keeping up.
The station shook.
“Pilot, status update,” Thur called.
“Ships are undocking,” Toom replied. “Four, five, eight that I can see.”
“Anyone things Meddling’s happening, and those have seen reason?” Yamilk asked.
“Not after that order to blow up the Bane,” Iatirin said. “I guess that means we weren’t fast enough.”
“Secure the survivors,” Thur instructed. “We’re heading—”
The hatch opened, and they all pointed their guns at a Kelsirian female. Beta Zorfiel Frasgormilan looked them over, unperturbed. “You’re a little jumpy. Anyone told you that? Ship’s secured, confirmed the prisoners aren’t on it. None of the crew knows where they are. They were handed over to some representative waiting for them.”
“So, this wasn’t a trap to get me here?” Jeremy asked.
“Can still be,” she said. “But they’d be idiots to set something like this for just one hunt.”
The other pack joined them. “Glad to see you didn’t need our support.”
“The hunt isn’t over,” Thur said. “So don’t discount yourselves yet. The prisoners are somewhere on this station. We don’t have any information where. We need to find them. We can expect to encounter opposition the entire way. Leave the guns there,” he added and Jeremy looked around his friend and beta. Trose hurried to stand, hiding the gun behind her.
“It won’t get in the way,” she said defensively.
Thur sighed. “And they consider you the cub. Pack up, we—”
“Want the station’s command center,” the special ops’ beta said. “Fastest way to learn where the prisoners were carted out to.”
Jeremy saw the effort needed for Thur to keep his expression neutral. When he spoke, there was reluctance to the tone. “Agreed. Do you have directions?”
“Not yet,” hunter Yarikaderimi Orshteriptar said. “But as soon as I find a hardline terminal, I’ll get you that, beta.”
Thur nodded. “Then, we hunt.”
Comments
Kindar
thank you
Marcwolf
Loving the action. Kelsirians have such fun ways of stress relief.
