THE SPACE NAVY AU (18+)

"Hey, hey, relax, I won't if you don't want me to. Yeesh you're excitable." You squint a bit, trying to process the little glow in the dark that's all you can see now. "Are you purple? I thought you were brown."

 

"Yeah, brown. Dirty blood. Animal blood."

 

"Animal blood is bright red, mostly," you point out. "Although the fish around my hive tended toward teal. So if you're brown, why do your eyes look purple? Is that some kind of implant?"

 

"THEY'RE FUCKING WHAT!?"

The big troll claps their hands over their eyes, keening in panic. "no no no no oh help oh no no NO!"

 

"Um... sorry. I thought you knew."

Well, this is awkward.

 

"Can you make it stop?" The troll asks, desperately. "Can you— get it out, get them out? Or— or just kill me?"

 

"Uh... I could? But I'd really rather not. That sounds like a last resort kind of thing. Let's try some other stuff first, okay? Let me try calling Galley, he kicked me off the net to prank me but he might still be listening."

 

There's no signal. After listening to Bel try for awhile, the brownblood suggests, tentative and anxious:

"I could... I could take you up a few levels? This is a nothing place, it's safe, there's no... there's nothing. Up has more."

 

"Yeah, let's look for some kind of physical terminal, I think the engine shielding might be messing with the wireless connection this far down. Not that I'm an expert in ship architecture." You gesture for them to lead on, and join them without getting too close. More for their peace of mind than because you're afraid they'll attack again. They weren't that fast.

"Do you want a new name?" you offer after a bit. "I could help you think of one. I'm sure not going to call you Punchline."

 

The brownblood pauses in the middle of scaling a large and mysterious piece of machinery up to a catwalk.

"Okay," he says finally. "But it's got to be secret. You get that, right? Don't give me a name they all know."

 

"Okay. What are some things you like? Maybe things you remember from when you were a wiggler? Or interesting places you've been?" This machinery item has plenty of handholds, but you're not eager to put your hand on some rusted bolt or broken edge of metal in the dark, so you try to use the same route your new friend does.

 

"I... had a mom. My dad got eaten. She ate him, she was a howlbeast, but she had cubs, and... I, I was one too. She taught me how to be big and strong. But it didn't help." He climbs over the edge of the cat walk and reaches down to pull Bel up.

"Hiding is better."

 

You don't need the help, but you accept it out of courtesy and nod your thanks. "I was raised by a soarbeast, so that's not my instinct, but I've been learning lately from some friends how that goes. How about Lycaon? He was a king in a story who was transformed into a howlbeast by the gods."

 

"That would be nice," the troll says wistfully. "Not the king thing, the howlthing... did he die a long time ago? Do you think he's been forgotten?"

He's leading Bel further up: the air is warmer and thicker, easier to breathe.

 

"Obviously not forgotten, but it's a pretty obscure bit of mythology. Only a history nerd like me would know about him. No one knows for sure how old the story is -- it might even be pre-spaceflight."

You spot a cluster of green and red telltale lights, and touch his arm to suggest a stop. "I think that might be a terminal down there, let's go try it. Something still has power, anyway."

 

The terminal is a dusty old beast for tracking and economizing shipping manifests and repairs. It boots up slowly and with the smell of burning cobwebs. The brownblood whines with anxiety as the dim lights start to glow brighter.

"I don't want this," he says. "It's not safe, they'll catch us."

 

"We're not fugitives, Lycaon," you say reassuringly. The name feels kind of right when you say it, so you hope when he said 'that would be nice' he meant the name as well as magical furrydom. "No one's out hunting for you, and if the captain's looking for me it's only because I have a habit of picking fights and he wants to make sure I'm not instigating a brawl. But if anyone comes storming at us your exit route's open." You give the way you came an illustrative nod. Then you focus on getting a text interface and sending a message to -- okay, Galley's handle and name return 'no such user' so this is probably a local subnet, but you're sure he's aware of it. You try sending it to 'administrator'.

CH: * I hate to be a poor sport, and would normally play through this prank of yours the long way, but there have been Events. Do you know how to get rid of chucklevoodoo leftovers that make someone's eyes glow purple?

 

HC: fuck, are there more clowns?
HC: kxll them

 

Heh, you knew it. No way would he not have his fingers in every system on the ship, once he's broken his programming.

CH: * No, one of their former victims. They've really gone, right? And they wouldn't come back just for some random crewman?
CH: * Because that's what I told him, so I hope I wasn't giving him false hope.
CH: * Anyway, he needs an exorcism or an antibiotic or I don't know what.

An idea occurs to you, and you add it without running it past the brownblood, because it would be just plain rude to attempt hackery on Galley's ship without his permission.

CH: * Also, would you mind if I throw together some documentation for him? Apparently the damn clowns took his name. However the hell that works.

 

HC: who knows how any of thexr wexrd voodoodoo works
HC: fuck xt, sure, go for xt, you lxttle rebel
HC: whxp up somethxng for yourself too xn case you don't dxe down there