Sir ChickenBurger
patreon
Killer Kittens from Outer Space- Chapter Thirteen
🕑 Added 2024-02-10 07:15:09 +0000 UTC
Ervamir 3- Upper Orbit
383 days post-induction
Jel
“I was really hoping to be planetside by now,” Rumarr grumbled, and her eyes flicked from side to side behind her eyepiece as she adjusted its capture settings for the lighting conditions. “Why do you think they’ve got us all crammed into this hall anyway?”
Jel shrugged his shoulders, wincing when he felt something catch in his upper back. Skara had been particularly enthusiastic the previous night. Usually, he bounced right back from the kind of rough treatment that was his preference in the bedroom, but all that activity straight after their cramped shuttle ride had left him sore and tetchy come morning. It had taken a soothing massage (and even then, he’d needed to tell Skara off for her wandering hands) and a good long, uninterrupted soak in the tub before he’d been able to drag himself from their room. When the couple did finally make it to breakfast, Rumarr had sidled up, acting for all the world like an old friend.
He was pretty sure that had something to do with his forgiveness of her ‘dishonourable conduct.’ Ursinians were a strange species like that.
Skara seemed to have let the whole thing go, barely sparing the larger woman a glance when she approached and even passing her a carton of protein supplement without being prompted.
It must have been the sex.
The message that had come from the Admiralty that morning had been specific about the time and place, but vague about the reason they were gathered. All they knew was that they, along with every other journalist on board, were being ‘strongly encouraged’ to attend a press conference in the west wing. Exactly who would be giving said conference was unclear, but there were rumours that Vice Admiral Kel’rek was aboard.
“It’s probably just the Admiralty getting ahead of the bad press,” Skara yawned. “A bit of puffery before we get down to the surface and see for ourselves how bad things are.”
Rumarr shook her head. “The brass would want us all lined up and orderly if that was their plan. They’d vet the questions in advance. This is too chaotic. I feel like a paparazzi standing off to the side of a celebrity walkway.”
Jel eyed the door to his right where a group of military personnel— he had no idea how many there had been as the scales of the duradians among them had blurred into a formless mass— had passed by earlier. “It would also help if they told us where to look. Covering both doors is stressing me out.”
“I’ll watch the entrance if you watch that door.” Skara offered, and he nodded gratefully. He’d no sooner found a better angle to do so though, than the sound of the entrance doors opening caught his attention, and his wife’s hand patted his shoulder urgently.
He whipped around, and his eyes widened. A human.
It had to be. The being matched all the descriptions he’d been given. That wasn’t the only thing surprising about her though. This human was wearing the Imperial greys over the same tight-fitting power armour that the other soldiers in the room were equipped with.
So that’s how they’re playing things. Clever.
The human spared them just a glance as she entered, a flick of the eyes that took in the surprise and rapidly rising fervour of the journalists in the room before fixing her gaze squarely on the double doors at the end of the hall.
Even as his camera came up, he rankled in distaste. It was no wonder now why the Admiralty wanted them in attendance. They needed to control the media’s first exposure to humanity, and what better way to do that than with a human they already had under their thumb? He had no issue with humans wearing the colours of the Imperium, but this was clearly intended as a distraction, and when presented in the right light, this display would likely serve that function.
He was here to do a job though, so he took the photos anyway. Unlike a few of his more overzealous peers, he didn’t bother crushing forward. There was no space set aside for interviews, and the brisk march that she kept up as she passed was a clear indication that she wasn’t about to stop for their questions.
At least, he thought it was a she. The human was shorter than he’d expected, certainly short for a woman, but those were clearly mammary glands, and she had well-defined muscles and a bulky frame that was on clear display beneath the form-fitting suit of the Imperial military. She looked a lot like a war form, he realized with a jolt of shock. He’d been under the impression that the humans didn’t have them.
Another convenient excuse for the brass to hide behind.
If she was a typical specimen, it was entirely possible that the human musculature had played a role in the disaster. Earth was on the extreme upper range for inhabited worlds in terms of gravitational pull, and as the human woman passed by Jel, he couldn’t help but admire the curve to her biceps and shoulders. Her legs were even more noticeable. Squat thighs built like the limbs of a Krikilik tree moved in a perfect marching cadence alongside the ulu’s lopsided strut.
She’s got a better physique than most kespan war forms I’ve seen. And if her muscle density is greater to match the high gravity, she’s probably even stronger. The men aren’t actually bigger than that, are they? Surely that’s just a rumour.
He struggled to wrap his head around what that would look like. The closest reference point he had was the ursinians, who were similarly muscular compared to the human woman, though larger.
A man built like an ursinian woman. There’s a thought. I wonder how they do their makeup.
There were very few images from Ervamir 3 available on the galactic net, outside of a few leaked pictures of some local life forms, including the famous sphynx cat. The tradition of allowing an induction species to introduce themselves on their own terms meant that before the tragedy, no pictures of humans had been made available to the public. The Admiralty had kept the lid on for the past year.
Somehow, despite looking like she could bench press Jel, his first impression was that the human woman was somehow… boyish? She had full lips, smooth skin and… yes, that was definitely some kind of product, a line beneath her eyes darkened to the same shade as her lashes. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing foundation as well— on a planet like Ervamir 3, there was no way a species with bare skin could keep a complexion like that. Her face was just a slightly lighter shade than her neck too, which also wouldn’t make sense unless it was being covered by a product of some kind.
He had no doubt that he was the only one in the room who’d noticed. Of course, there was a chance that she’d been talked into wearing makeup for the photo op, he wouldn’t put it past the Imperial government to want the human to look as good as possible. He doubted it though. This wasn’t an exhibition of male military staffers dressed to impress. Women in the Imperial military didn’t wear makeup.
The implication was that she’d chosen to wear it.
The implication of that he was unsure about.
As the human and the ulu disappeared through the same set of doors that the other soldiers had passed through, Jel’s mind was racing. Already he could see other journalists in the room with similar expressions, typing frantically on their devices, or deep in thought. What questions did he have for her?
He had no doubt that he’d be given a chance to ask them. He had the distinct advantage of being the only male present, which meant that the staffers couldn’t just ignore him, or they’d come off as misandrists. Even as the personnel in the room started clearing space by the doors and his fellow correspondents jostled to the front, he noticed the women in uniform looking his way, whispering amongst themselves and nodding.
The cordons were moved, and a podium was brought in. Then a polite chuff from his left elbow startled him. A duradian materialized as if from thin air, her scales shifting into a slate grey, and several other beings close by squeaked in surprise.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, her voice carrying in a steady low thrum. “You are Mister Jelakka Mar’miar with GalWave magazine, correct? The Admiral would like to invite you to the front.”
Well, that’s one way to do it.
He looked at Rumarr, who grinned. “Don’t worry about me,” she chuckled. “I can see the podium from anywhere in the room, and I dare them to ignore me.”
The duradian rolled her eyes at that, but it was hard to read reptilian facial cues sometimes.
Jel grinned back.“Oh, I wasn’t worried about you,” he replied. “Just surprised you didn’t jump out of your skin like the rest of us.”
“Saw her coming,” Rumarr smirked. “Seventeen years of war correspondence. It’d take a lot more than a duradian to startle me.”
The lizard woman’s eyes rolled again. Yeah, that was definitely annoyance.
To be fair, he was being a little rude.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, and she nodded. “Lead the way.”
The crowd in their immediate vicinity was already clearing a path for the soldier, and as they moved to the front, the duradian let out a chuff.
“She didn’t see me,” she said, pushing a gap between a kespan and an Ump’kata, then gesturing him through.
“What?” he asked, bemused.
“Ursinians have a fear response that they display when taken by surprise,” she deadpanned. “The hairs on their neck stand on end. She hid it well, but she was surprised.” They’d arrived in the front of the crowd now, and the duradian stared at him with unblinking reptilian eyes, waiting for a response.
“Okay,” he ventured, and she frowned.
“She did not see me. I am very good at my job,” she pressed.
“I… agree?” Jel tried again, and this time the woman nodded.
“Good,” she said, and then she was gone.
Goddesses, he swore to himself, careful not to speak out loud in case she was still nearby. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that. He might need to; there were nearly as many duradians on Ervamir as there were kespans. Their mooncradles were among the closest to this region of space, and so they’d made up the bulk of the Imperial reinforcements.
After about ten minutes the jostling died down, and within twenty, the crowd had composed itself, waiting rapturously for the human’s return. Half an hour after that, the excitement had bled from the room to be replaced with frustration.
How long do they plan on keeping us here?
Finally, the doors opened, and every journalist leaned forward, cameras clicking feverishly. But it was a kespan, not a human, that appeared in the doorway, and the noise died down as Vice Admiral Kel’rek took to the podium.
“I thank you all for being here, and for waiting so patiently for our business to conclude,” she said, her voice amplified by vocal cord augmentation, a modification that was standard-issue amongst officials. “As I’m sure you’ve all guessed by now, the Admiralty has made the time of one of our newly enlisted lateral hires available for you all to ask questions of her, and yes, she is human.”
She held up a hand as the room began to buzz, and there was quiet again. “Specialist Cardoso will be joining you all in a moment. As a member of the Imperial military, I will remind you all that she is held to a certain standard regarding the disclosure of information pertaining to Imperial military operations. Since her position has only been fully realized as of today and this responsibility is new to her, a member of our public relations team will be vetting all questions posed. Any questions that are interpreted as attempts to garner information on current operations in this system will be discarded, and the responsible party will be asked to leave this conference.”
A uniformed kespan wearing a high-tech eyepiece moved close to the podium, and Jel heard a snort come from behind and above him. Probably Rumarr. The Vice Admiral surveyed the room sternly before carrying on.
“Earlier this morning, you were each provided with an update to your translation software to accommodate the language that Specialist Cardoso will be using to communicate with. If anyone has not yet applied this patch, I will give you an opportunity to do so now.”
No one moved.
“With that said, I’m sure you all have many questions for our first human recruit, so without further ado, I will cede the floor to Specialist Cardoso.”
The double doors opened, and the human stepped out.
Gone was the march and the fixed stare. In its place, there was a hesitance to her steps, and her teeth were bared. ‘Greetings, friendly’ Jel’s translator chip whispered into his brain, but he wasn’t convinced. She looked unsure of herself. She glanced at the Admiral, and something hardened in that expression. ‘Resolve’ whispered his firmware.
She doesn’t want to be here Jel realized, relieved that the human was easier to read than most other species he’d met. He could be completely wrong of course, but given the similarities that humans and kespans shared in their body configurations, he was almost certain of it.
She took to the podium, and the room filled again with mutters that died down as the human leaned forward to address them.
“Hello, everyone,” she said, and Jel tried to focus on the cadence of her words and let the translator's speech take a back seat. “My name is Specialist Ana Cardoso, and I will be answering some questions about myself and my fellow humans on behalf of the Imperial military.”
Her voice was rhythmic and almost melodic, with long vowels stretched out around short hard consonants and rolled soft ones. Where each word ended, he couldn’t be sure. His translator registered almost 100% of the communication as phonetic, which would at least make things easier. Even the best technology could make mistakes with scent and gesture-based languages.
“I’d like to first say that I do not claim to represent all of, or indeed any part of humanity beyond myself here this morning,” she went on. “I am here to represent only the Imperial military in its attempt to… include humanity in the galactic fold. Any answers I give to questions outside of that are my own opinions based on personal experience, and nothing more.”
Limbs shot up across the room, including Jel’s own hand, and a barrage of questions had the human shrinking back slightly, clearly overwhelmed.
The PR woman stepped forward, picking one of the journalists at the front.
“Descanti Publishing ma’am. Why did you decide to join the Imperial military?”
Ana nodded. “That’s a good question, and I’m sure that many of my fellow women on Earth would ask the same thing. The truth is that my planet is on the brink. We are faced with a choice to give in to our choice of two things; hatred and the destruction of everything we have left, or the Imperium, where we can take our place among the stars.”
Another flurry of questions, and the kespan pointed out another reporter.
“Selep Neeb, ma’am, with the Quasar Chronicle. Where were you on the day that the nanobots dropped?”
The kespan aide’s ear twitched, and Specialist Cardoso glanced at her sharply. When no recriminations came, the human nodded, closing her eyes.
“I was at a bar near my home, with my closest friend. He died in my arms,” she said, then swallowed, and her lips drew into a tight line. “He was a good man.”
“Do you hate the Imperium for what happened to your people?” A voice called out above the rabble, and the human squared her shoulders.
“Absolutely.”
Comments
Mary Jackie Miller
So the Imperium has a tiger by the tail. She has nothing to lose and the Imperium better wake up fast.
