The Province Of Terrans 2
A Starshatter adventure
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Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16
Chapter 10
Kosmovoi
Oftentimes crawling on all fours only to evade larger pipes which sported gaping holes, the Spacer advanced. Watching a series of short holo-vids in polite silence, his audience only shared links or short texts as their storyteller was enjoying the rest of the Bulgarian treats, sipping more bikar beer as he ate. When the videos ended, the audience was left watching a single holo-slide for no less than five seconds, until Northstone Firehand swiped another file onto the holoprojector.
Heat had been spiking for the last part of his journey of exploration. Most of the slime trails he’d so carefully followed had nigh evaporated and only where there was no air, the Spacer still saw bubbles of floating slime. What left it was still a big guess among the members of the audience. There were some, starship captains and the like, most of them old space wolves, who had unilaterally assumed ‘twas a gene-forged warbeast waiting for Northstone at the end of said trail.
“During my one hour trek, I came to one realization, dear guests. That, had the thing been bigger, whatever its biology was, there was a clear path for it through the damaged, big pipes. Yes, I followed slime trails, yet what if those were displaced by the derelict’s biome?”
Northstone showed them a single, high-resolution holo-slide, skillfully overlayed with a great bit of scan-data. This piping had led the Spacer to one of the ancient warship’s barely active heatsinks! Massive, this construction needed these pipes to regulate fluids and maintain the system’s operational capacity. Yet, even if it was actually without damage, for this heatsink to be fully operational required some hands on deck, so to speak.
In centuries past, someone had fought here and quite violently so. Plasma cables were fried, their crystalline structure and metallic casings formed prehistoric-looking stalactites and stalagmites. There was a feel of dread when one looked at these, for in the gloom of this pit of ancient mechanical destruction, their crooked forms appeared as if the bony fingers of some otherworldly giant. Cyclopean bars of hyper-conductive material, even the Spacer’s advanced device could tell him its exact composition, loomed overhead. Among their ribcage-like shapes, in their many hundreds dangled mummified corpses still clad in their mangled ancient spacesuits.
Before this horrid vision of olden death, not even this audience of hardened, experienced men and women could best their fear.
“Who were these people? I couldn’t even know since they had been entombed up there, way further than my scout goggles could reach even with their meticulous scanning beams.” – said Northstone and swiped another holo-slide, this time an extreme magnification and grainy, before he added – “To my eye, and my friends, you know that I have quite versed in remembering detail ocular sensory receptors, these sentients were like no one I had ever seen.”
He threw his Dzenta’rii friend a look and this one frowned, raising a glass when he confirmed Northstone’s conclusion – “I, with the slim knowledge of my Seeker ancestors, know not of these people. Nor their starship, not their crest of imperial glory. Lost, like many other thousand misbegotten star kingdoms are they, known mayhap only to the foul wraiths they spawned to fight their wars for them!”
“Indeed, what my noble Dzent’a brother of the Terran Way says is true. To those among you who rightfully assume that, had I had some extra time, I’d definitely should’ve climbed up there and investigated, you are correct. Yet... I couldn’t.” – Northstone spoke and with a polite nod as he addressed some of the elderly patrons, many of whom might have explored not just one derelict and on their own.
His next holo-slide depicted something big which loomed in the gloom ahead and that thing was definitely alive, for its carapace shapes floated above the floor-plating!
Of red, brown, and jet-black color, thick, covered in various types of weapon damage, this almost snail-like, asymmetrical carapace was the size of a starfighter. Floating sideways, whatever that creature was, it had a tooth-shaped head and... tentacles. Many among the audience looked aghast and some quivered in their seats since for most, seeing that thing was the closest they’d come face to face with the horrors unknown lurking within the deep space.
“Things around that creature, which you can see here, here, and over there,” – said Northstone as he motioned, pointing at a number of biological in nature egg-shaped items around the floating being – “these appeared to house our missing protein source.”
The Spacer canted his head, took a breath and sipped some beer, before he added – “Though, looking at this large shell-clad being, we were beyond lucky to have never faced it at the Farm. Just by look alone, the thickness of its carapace would make it practically invulnerable to normal handguns. My powerful gyro-jet pistol, it could nary scratch it and that is with armor piercing ammunition. However, the tiny bit of Spacer knowledge I possessed regarding similar creatures, told me that to even entertain the notion of survival, I’d need a main battle tank at the very least...”
Jenn blinked and her face changed colors the longer she looked at his holo-slide.
“In the olden days, one of our brothers bumped into something like this.” – said she and downed her whiskey in one go – “In space, Northstone, in outer frikkin’ space.”
“True, these are beings who survive in the depths of space. Most are rarely even caught by sensors let alone seen by sentient eyes for they lurk in the dark between star systems. It is called Kosmovoi for a reason and only a handful of our people ever glimpsed one. This is now an integral part of our modern folklore since most of us Spacers are from Slavic descent.”
“Northstone, I dare ask,” – the Dzenta’rii addressed his friend – “who first named this being ‘spirit of space’?”
“Ilya Chilleye was his name, of the Steel Frog clan. Your wife Zoya, if I remember correctly my dear Narin, her extended family has distant ties with his Spacer Clan.” – replied Northstone and Narin nodded, typing a quick note on his PDA to link his beloved.
The Spacer gave Jenn a concerned look and inquired – “What happened to that brother of your space motorcycle club? Did he survive the encounter or...”
“He kept that meeting a secret till his deathbed,” – explained the bikar woman – “since he’d assumed no one among the members of our SMC would believe him.”
“No holo-footage either? That must have been eating him from the inside.” – said Northstone following a sad sigh and Jenn nodded.
As she poured herself another glass of whiskey, the barkeep added – “Sadly, this was before the days of portable and efficient PDA devices. Wilson Blake was one of my six uncles and I his favorite niece. When he lay dying on his bike, surrounded by friends and family, I was present and heard his story... with all the creepy details.”
The Spacer and his Dzenta’rii friend both gave her a look and with a sad smile, following another hefty gulp of whiskey, Jenn promised – “A tale for another day, I promise.”
There followed a short silence, as the stunned audience looked at Northstone’s holo-footage, examined the zoomed in slide of shadow shrouded mummies, and the mysterious Kosmovoi. Not the thoughts of why but more like how, that was what occupied their minds now. All sentients who were accepted as guests of The Roundabout knew that Spacer storytellers would tell amazing tales. That they would never lie nor embellish even a single detail and that they would not spare them the reality of survival in outer space.
“Many among you, I am sure of it, are concerned not about me. After all, I am standing here, safe and sound, feasting on delectables and sipping pint after pint of amazing bikar beer. You are worried more about Niv and his people.” – when he said this Northstone gave the Vaugn man a nod and this one politely snapped his jaw.
“I shan’t say a word before its time has come... Otherwise, there be spoilers and that is neither good storyshowing nor proper storytelling!” – concluded the Spacer and clapped his gloves in the air before projecting another set of holo-slides.
“Now, my dear guests, as you can all plainly see, the Kosmovoi was just floating there and I, not even set a toe upon the floor-plating. Aiming my Deathknell laser pistol at this armored monstrosity was beyond pointless therefore I holstered it and proceeded to study the beast. Non invasive scans confirmed my suspicions that these egg-shaped things were made of the same slime or I should rather say, ‘unknown biological matter’. Inside, there swam thousands of little hatchlings, happily feasting upon the melon-like fruits missing from our Farm.”
Northstone overlayed his next holo-vid with a number of scans, which revealed that these eggs had indeed spawned things of the aquatic serpentine variety. Yet just like some of the beings which thrived in various alien environments, these too would eventually mature into something entirely different. The hatchlings were aquatic, yes, and one day they would evolve into monstrosities like the menacingly floating, tentacle waving Kosmovoi.
One could not effectively communicate with alien beasts like this one.
“Perhaps, had I been a telepath,” – began Northstone and tapped his temple with a smile – “I could’ve touched the alien brain of this being. Indeed, if my powers and concentration were sufficient, I would’ve made a successful attempt to convince it of the simplest of notions which it could understand, hopefully. The one which was of the most importance for me and my Vaugn friends, that neither I nor they were at all tasty.”
The Spacer took another sip of beer and he gave Jenn a copy of his best holo-slide of the Kosmovoi. This she projected above that part of her bar, where the large barrels full of bikar beer stood.
“It was true that there existed other, more scientific and hard to pull off ways of communication. One that immediately came to my mind, as I watched how the being plopped more of the spoiled melon-like fruits in one of the hatching vats. The scene reminded me of birds feeding their baby chicks, bar the menacing, fifteen foot long tentacles, the thick shell, and the fact that Kosmovoi had some form of biological anti-gravity propulsion.”
Northstone produced the plans of a device, which not even the old space wolves recognized, but rather a number of engineers who had dabbled in exobiology. One machine which evolved out of many a civilizations’ attempt to communicate with primitive beings on their own world. Eventually, a bunch of these technologies, most of which were considered pseudo-scientific by current day establishments, morphed into the “Vocalist” device.
“I was not an expert in exobiology, but from what little I’ve studied under my uncle, I could fashion a Vocalist in a day. The problem lie elsewhere, my dear guests. I knew too little of the Exo, that primitive, and mind you, largely untested, theoretical ‘space critter language’. What happens when you waste a lot of precious resources only to tell this starfighter size monstrosity, that ‘you smell’ or something equally as stupid?”
The Spacer shrugged in his elaborately beautified spacesuit, which was a feat in and of itself, and elaborated – “Clear as Quasar, the Kosmovoi came here to hatch its snakelings because this is where the heat was strongest. The beast also snatched the melon-like fruits to feed them, but did not ruin anything else. No, this creature is not a noble beast, endowed with primitive intelligence, one which could be understood by us, but simply pragmatic. Wasting time and energy with unrelated to its own and the survival of the hatchlings’ activities, would not even come to its alien mind.”
Still glued to the holo-footage and zooming in and out of Northstone’s expertly taken, enhanced with scan-data slides, the audience began to murmur. As always, the crafty storyteller left their brain cells to fly from one theory and one assumption into another. When he read the room, and oh, a Spacer of his caliber could read a room proper, he raised his pint, announcing aloud:
“The solution to complicated problems is often easy.”
Indeed, what exactly would be this “easy” solution to a problem of otherworldly proportions like this menacingly floating Kosmovoi?
The choice, dear reader, is all yours!
(One) “‘Only a fool plays rigged games’, my father would often say. Rolling a loaded dice was rather unwise to say the least and we weren’t somewhere cozy. No, everything here had to be counted and measured, even your very step. One thing I knew about the Kosmovoi and that was – If you left it alone, it would ignore you. I immediately turned around and walked away. The beast was nursing its young and that could last for a star-month, maybe longer. We would be long gone when anything of note happened...”
(Two) “Leaving a Kosmovoi here, so close to our Farm, it may be a non-issue now, but what about in the near future? I was a Spacer and taking risks, no matter how slim the chances of success were, part of my Human DNA. Going back to the Shelter, I would change the shifts so another four Vaugn would stand guard of the Farm, sleep, and craft a Vocalist from the leftover salvage. I would roll the monstrous do or die dice on the next star-day.”
(Three) “The easiest and simplest of solutions, Spacers say, are hiding in plain sight. Watching how the monstrous being fed its hatchlings for a few long minutes made me think. We had repaired all hydroponic vats. These plants were well tended by the working life-support system and with enough nutrients they could rapidly grow another batch of melons. It would be beyond easy to put together a jury-rigged remote controlled cart for the Kosmovoi to pick said fruity present from, because I was not going to even consider venturing in its tentacle reach. It would not be a zoo but a fed beast was a content beast...”
(*_*_*)
Dear reader, please do not forget to post your pick in the comments below, and elaborate upon why you think our protagonist should do so.
Nukes. You either need to ignore it, or kill it. Nukes or hide from it.
A right scary beastie. And of course it has young. So more scary beasties. I vote for #2. To communicate with it would be amazing. Just think of the stories it could tell