SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

The story so far...

THIRTY-SEVEN

Savra sat in his office, after picking up half of the contents from where they’d fallen and waited for Merran to connect the leader of his clan. The long range communications were back up but patchy and Pantha, apparently, was going to meet her literal deadline to get the engines up to velocity two. They needed to get after the Dewless in short order but they should also warn them. It was only the done thing. The scratchy image came through, showing the slightly distorted face of one of the clan leaders senior Captains. Savra lightened his face. The Osiran, known as Occifer, was one of the easier to get along with. Cold blooded but warm tempered. <”Long time, no communicate, Savra,”> he stated simply.

“Yeah, well,” Savra replied, keeping his tone level. “That’s the deal. I’m more or less independent provided I stay within the lines and kick up the percentage.”

<”You look like you’ve been in the wars,”> Occifer remarked, peering at the visible wounds on the screen.

“Yeah. I’m calling with a warning, Occifer. You need to notify all our ships and bases in the Minas system and neighbouring systems that they may soon be attacked. Now. Tell them to be on alert for ANY clans. I’ll tell you why when you get off that call. Trust me, Occifer. Big things are happening.”

<”Oh, I know,”> Occifer said coyly. <”Be right back.”> The picture flipped to a ‘hold’ screen with a cute feline Kitten continually trying to jump from a sofa to a wall and failing in eternal loop. It was, he reckoned, designed to sap the will. Eventually, the picture flicked back to the green tinged face. <”That’s my neck on the line,”> he warned. <”Now, want to start with the murder of our contact on Titan III?”>

“Darlan sold us out to avoid a child murder charge, Occifer,” Savra warned, his tone clearly implying that Occifer shouldn’t argue this point. “I have dead people thanks to him so I dealt with him and the detective who helped him. He’s also why I’m calling. Things snowballed after we found a partial treasure map on him.”

<”That you neglected to tell us about? And who attacked you?”>

“I’ll come to them later,” Savra said, scowling as the image distorted and reset. “We wanted to make sure it wasn’t nothing so, after the scheduled raid on the Lappinean medical supply ship. Turned out the map Darlan had was of an area on Minas Daltin, which was the same place we were going anyway. And we found something amongst the barrels. Something different they were sneaking. Something that could destroy everything we’ve got if it’s not dealt with.”

Occifer sighed and Savra saw him roll his eyes. <”What iss it thiss time?”>

“You’re lisping,” Savra told him. “A chemical contaminant. Virrik reckons it’s part based on her work of years ago. It’s a totally illegal healing gel with frightening side effects.”

<”It would have if based on HER work,”> Occifer replied, <”What does it do?”>

“I tested it on two locals I have a real grudge against. Two Wolven…”

<”Which explains why no-one can find them...”>

“I took one. Rawton took the other. Both were wounded. The one I took was healed to perfection. All her old wounds? Gone. She’s physical perfection. The thing works by replicating the DNA of the patient and speeding the healing. The results on the one Rawton took were more spectacular.”

<”How so,”> Occifer queried, after Savra had paused for effect.

“Rawton’s DNA was in some of the wounds too. Bites and the like. “The gel combined the DNA’s to make a new one.” He put a picture of Muti before the treatment on the screen. “Before,” he said.

<”Rawton likes his work,”>

“After,” Savra continued, putting up the picture of how Mati looked now.

Savra enjoyed watching Occifer’s face go slack, the eyes bugging and the jaw dropping as the Captain took in the full scale of what he was looking at. It wasn’t often he got the chance to put one over on the sly lizard. <”You...are...joking,”> he breathed.

Savra shook his head. “I’m not. This thing may alter the genetic make up of anyone it’s used on. We’ve only done these two tests but I have a feeling some in my crew would probably volunteer if told about it. Which is one reason it’s dangerous. The other, of course, is that none of the recognition systems would ever work with anywhere near certainty again.”

<”You need to get some of that to us,”> Occifer decreed.

Savra assented. He’d known they’d want it. “Some of it,” he declared. “The rest should be given to the people who might be able to stop it getting into general use. We don’t even know if they know of it yet.”

<”There’s that altruism coming through again. Fair enough.”> A file pinged into life on Savra’s console. <”A list of the patrol routes of U.S.C. vessels.”> He sighed. <”You still haven’t said who attacked you.”>

“The Dewless clan.”

<”They don’t operate in that area. That’s...”>

“I know,” Savra interrupted. “Daklia. But it was a Dewless ship. Because it was a Dewless data centre we found at the end of that treasure map. We don’t know if they’re operating it in conjunction with the locals or if they’ve hidden it. But they’re there. And the Wolven aren’t happy about it either. I’m going to need to release the one to take action on the ground with the other remaining here. And we know they’re involved in this hybridiser thing too.”

<“Based on what?”>

“Based on the fact that, part way through the attack, Chula came on board, looking for it.”

<”Chula is dead.”>

“Chula,” Savra snapped tightly, pulling up the best video of the bay he had that showed the fight, “was engaged in hand-to-hand against me twenty minutes ago!”

<”He faked his death.”>

“Explains the gains on Ultimma that Dewless have been making,” Savra groused as the engines fired into velocity speed. He checked his time piece. Twenty-nine minutes. “With this sutff he’d be able to go out in public again. He had to break the attack. Can’t risk destroying the chemical when destroying the ship. He intends to attack clan holdings so YOU make me hand over the chemical.”

<”Which he can’t have. He’s dangerous and unstable. I’ll have to take this all to the High Command, Savra. They may want to tell the Ultimma Clan.”> The Osiran gritted his teeth to look stern. <”Get rid of that stuff, Captain.”>


The screen went black.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Welsh Halfwit wrote: Mon Feb 13, 2023 2:23 pm The picture flipped to a ‘hold’ screen with a cute feline Kitten continually trying to jump from a sofa to a wall and failing in eternal loop. It was, he reckoned, designed to sap the will.
Lol
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

At some point I have a feeling it will cause even the most HARDENED men to wanna kill themselves. Great chapter!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

THIRTY-EIGHT

“I don’t get it,” Cherry said, after fixing a Raitchian’s broken wrist with some of her dwindling supplies. “The attack’s done, why are we still getting them incoming?” She glanced over at the covered up form on the stretcher in the corner. The tiger striped arm hanging down from the side…

“Eyes on your patient,” Virrik insisted. “The struggle doesn’t end simply because the battle’s done, girl. There’s always more found after fighting’s done.”

“Right, right,” she replied. “This is the first…” Another glance at the Tigron. “The first…”

Virrik sighed, put down her scalpel, turned and hoicked Cherry against a bulkhead. “You best forget that for now. Your first loss on table?” Cherry nodded. Every loss prior to this had been in computer simulations. She’d felt every loss but this one made her want to be sick. To run and hide. “You’ll lose more,” Virrik stated. “You need to get used to it. Because only by trying; by failing to save those who can’t be saved, do you get to save those who CAN be,” she snapped, showing her fangs. “Forget morality, forget your guilt. Forget everything except what needs to be done to progress.”

“Is that wh...what happened to you?”

Virrik gave her the sort of stares that sometimes needed a defibrillator afterwards and put her hands on either side of the Mican’s head, staining it red. “That disaster,” she said simply, “saved more people than ever it killed. They never tell that.” She released Cherry. “Now your face goes with the name,” she stated clearly, heading back to the patient she’d been patching up. “Go check on Mati. He’s in the isolation section.”


“White fur’s the worst for a Doctor,” Cherry grumbled, taking her kit and heading for the locked doors. She input the code Virrik called out to her and did her best to remember the code to get out again before stepping into the antechamber. The door behind her locked and she pressed the pad to enter the main chamber. She eeped as Mati leapt towards her. She threw herself out of the way as he slapped into the closing door and got his arm stuck in the closing door. The door didn’t start opening again, even when he tried pulling it with his other arm. He panted in pain as the door kept trying to close. Cherry got back to her feet and hurried to assist.

“Enter… the release code,” he gasped.

“She never told me it,” Cherry lied, knowing she’d be dead if she helped the guy escape. She grabbed hold of his arm and, gritting her teeth, pulled the hybrid back into the room. Her cries of effort matched by his after a moment as he joined in the effort. The arm popped free and Mati pulled his fingers back before they were trapped too. “Good, uh, escape attempt,” Cherry offered.

“Thank you,” Mati said, a curious tone to his voice. “You do realise,” he added, a pulse directed by hunger adding to his tone, “that you’re trapped in here with me?”

Cherry shrugged. “I’m hoping you’re not hungry.”

“You’re covered in blood,” he told her, his eyes locked on her cheeks. “It appeals to me.” Without warning, he took hold of her and licked the cheek, saliva drawing all the way up the side of her face, the tongue pressure pulling up her upper lip for a few seconds as she quivered. She scowled and stepped back, using her arm to try and clean off her cheek as he laughed. “Doesn’t taste the same anymore,” he told her. “What’s happened? I’ve been jumping all over the place to stay away from flying stuff.”

“People have,” Cherry said, still vigorously rubbing her cheek, “been trying to kill us.”


Gallen thought it amusing as he brought body number four out from the shuttle and placed it next to bodies two and three as the ships engines started to full power and the dampeners engaged to keep everything from flying into a bulkhead. He felt he really needed a holiday. The frozen face of a Mican stared up at him in death and appeared to be blaming him for his death. Perhaps he was right? Didn’t matter, he supposed, heading back into the shuttle to bring out something that looked like a console in the darkness but was more like a dual purpose padd in the light of the bay. The screen was cracked across but maybe Kurmak or one of the computer types could pull something off it. He started pulling the protective suit off and accepted the hug from Barnabus. “What are you doing down here,” he asked, hugging back.

“Shift break” the youngster replied. “Five minutes back.”

Gallen rubbed cheeks with the boy. “You certainly shifted to get down here. It’s not like we didn’t see each other on the bridge!”

“I know, I know but…”

“Yeah,” Gallen said, rubbing the boys back before letting go, “I know. The adrenaline surge of battle’s faded.”

Barnabus looked at him askew. “Huh?”

“Never mind.” He held out a hand. “C’mon, squirt. Time to get back to business.”

Barnabus took the hand.


Muta felt the ship slap into velocity speed and called out to her guard from her cell, where she’d been perusing a book on Wolven mating practises as described by one of the first Raitchians to observe the effect. It had been before the translation microbes so she could appreciate the skill the Raitchian had shown in linguistics, even if she had got most of the words slightly off. The words were ‘I bare my teeth to thee is all sharpness’, not ‘ bear my fangs to show you the pint’ but she understood the mistake. She assumed the Rat had been watching a tape or something as she should have been eaten in those days. A fair few cultures had made first contact with the Wolven at the seventh attempt a few centuries back. It was a ferocity they’d sublimated a little now. “Guard,” she repeated, standing close to the bars.

“What,” a Feline demanded, standing close by and looking totally disinterested.

“Why’s the ship gone to velocity speed? We’re leaving the colony behind.”

The guard sneered dismissively. “Why should I care?”

“Because,” Muta replied sweetly, “I’m just under guard.” She pushed the cell door open. Her voice took on a harsher tone. “And this door’s not locked!” She swept around the open door and slammed the guard into the bars face first, before he could draw his blade. She snagged his wrist in the door frame and savagely banged the door into the joint, eliciting a cry of pain before she whipped him around, put her hand around his throat and, as Savra had been known to do, “lifted him off the floor, stretching his spine in an attempt to preserve his neck. “I may be trapped on this ship,” she intoned, “but I will NOT be talked down to by the likes of you, little moggy. I am Wolven. I kill my enemies of which you are DANGEROUSLY close to becoming one. Now, shall we find out why the ship is leaving my home?”

He coughed a yes.


“Are we pursuing the Dewless,” Gallen asked as he puffed back onto the bridge. Just to rub it in, Barnabus hopped effortlessly back onto his station, still looking bright as a button after the run through the ship.

“No,” Savra replied. “We’d never catch her. And this way,” he added cryptically, “she might be chasing us...”
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

People should really watch who they are taunting. You never know just how crafty and determined they are to clap back at you. Great chapter!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Things are gelling again...

THIRTY-NINE

“Kurmak,” Savra stated, drawing the attention of the Feline, “how much of that… stuff have we used?”

“The Bigenetic zip,” the Science Officer surmised, thinking it needed a cool name rather than ‘stuff’. He looked up the exact weights on his system before turning back to the Captain. “About two percent, sir,” he remarked.

“Right. Kick up to the Clan chiefs is twenty percent – and, believe me, they WANT their twenty percent in this. Vi…” He paused, glancing over at Barnabus before remembering to use the correct word for the Doctor. “Vera wants more test subjects so… Siphon off the twenty percent, take another ten for our own ‘cut’ and ready the rest for transfer to another ship.”

“Of course, Captain.” He pulled himself upright and started to head out but stopped himself in a curious ‘action’ pose. “What ship is that, sir?”

“A U.S.C. one.”

At that, even Janus turned to look at the Captain. “Are you mad,” Kurmak called, “Uh, I mean… Could, uh, you repeat that, sir?”

Savra growled. “I NEVER repeat myself.” He pressed a button and Kurmak creased up in pain as an electrical charge passed through his system. “Neither I nor the Chiefs want this stuff in the area, Kurmak,” he snapped. “But we want it understood and we see no problem with notifying the people who might be able to do something about it that it exists! Got it?” He pressed the button again and the pain in Kurmak’s neck ceased.

The Feline swallowed. “Aye, s...sir,” he said, heading out on wobbly knees.

Gallen shook his head and swallowed politely. “What do we do with our ‘cut’,” he asked cautiously.

“Put it to use,” Savra stated. “She wants test subjects. So I want you to put it out there. It exists and may be able to make them closer to their loved ones or fancies than ever they dreamed. They apply to YOU, Gallen. I want nothing to do with it.”

“Aye.”

“Janus,” Savra added. “Put us on course for the Mikkan system.”

“Of course,” the young Celican replied, scritching his neck. “Permission to ask which ship we’re meeting?”


“You’re sure it’s under control,” the tanfur Lappinean asked the local medical chief on the colony below her, Micanna. They’d had an outbreak of Mican Dropsy over the last week and the science ship Savval had used her considerable abilities to focus research and control the situation for days now, sending down scientists and medical staff to assist. Lieutenant Commander Hawthorne Plebar herself had been involved in the microbiological research on the ship to identify the particular strain and formulate the correct medication. It had taken its time but it seemed to have succeeded now. Five hundred treated and saved. It had been quite a good couple of days.

<”It seems so, Captain,”> Doctor Palmerston said, trying not to yawn whilst popping a Caffeine tablet. <”I think it would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t been here.”>

Hawthorne shrugged and wondered how her cousin might respond to that. She inclined her head slightly. “It was our pleasure, Doctor. Savval out.” The screen cut off as she pressed the disconnect button and turned to her Communications Officer, Lieutenant Rawn. “Signal the away teams,” she told the Human, “tell them they’re to return to the ship soon as. We need to get out on patrol. Go where needed.” She chuckled to herself. She was saying things her mate on Caldera would say. And HE was a Chartered Surveyor her mother approved of. Well, Dale was Lappinean and had a good job. Of COURSE Mother approved.

“Aye, sir,” Rawn replied, sending the messages.


Dilla had the shakes. She’d had them for about fifteen minutes now, the adrenaline from the fight dissipating as she tried to fix one of several blown out systems. Her hands were shaking in a trembling way that seemed to her like she was shaking apart. She just wanted to go and lie down in a dark room and dream her way back to safety and not be surrounded by people carrying dead bodies around her towards the torture chamber this Doctor Vera was obviously running. She’d heard they were going to harvest everything from the body. Organs, blood, everything. It sounded horrible. No, she corrected herself, it WAS horrible. Everything was horrib… She jumped slightly as Pallik put his hand next to hers and helped her hold the thing in for fixing. Well, she thought, maybe not everything was horrible. “Th...thanks,” she said, smiling at him. Then again, she was always smiling, wasn’t she? “And I mean that, by the way.”

“I noted,” the Collian said sweetly, his mouth close to her ear so he could speak quietly. “I’m beginning to be able to tell with you.”

She felt her pulse calming, her shakes receding as she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and shoulder. She thought she knew of several thousand reasons it couldn’t work but, right now, the Canid was a candle in the darkness and she wouldn’t mind boosting the flame a bit. She took her fingers out from the replaced panel and he helped her close it up. “Um, Pallik? Uh, Dal,” she corrected, using the name he’d asked her to use when they were alone; as they were right now.

“Yeah?”

“After, uh, work…” Here were the nerves again. “Would you, uh, like a coffee? In, er, my quarters?”

He kissed her neck, sending a small thrill of excitement through her that made her tail straighten for a moment. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said. “But perhaps we should make it my quarters? That way you can leave if you want to rather than having to throw me out?”

She chuckled at that, nerves momentarily forgotten.


Cherry sighed as she looked around the room she’d been allocated. The occupant was one of those she’d failed to save and that horror who now controlled her work had joked that people might suppose she’d let the occupant die to get the room and she’d complained about that to the Dober female who she’d found whilst wandering the ship in search of this place. “Dead man’s shoes,” she finished, turning to almost accuse Hastur of something.

“Way it goes, Doc,” Hastur replied directly. “Strip what you don’t want out. Someone’ll have it. There’s a stock supply room down the passageway. Give ‘em your clothes sizes and they’ll see what’s in stock. Discards or raided stuff. And NEVER refer to the Doctor as ‘Virrik’ again. Captain’s trying not to let anyone know she’s here. People have died over that. And crew has been ‘disciplined’, Cherry. Call her ‘Vera’. Say it.”

“Vera?”

“Keep saying it until it’s natural.” Lightening her tone a little, Hastur stepped over to the vidscreen to pull up a partial schematic of the ship. “And learn your way around. Quicker you can? Easier you’ll have it.”

Cherry looked miserably at the bed. “A dead guy’s bed…”

“A bed doesn’t care who’s lying on it. That’s your bed now.” She gave a slight grin. “If you can find it on the schematics, there’s a place on the ship can change it for another. Welcome aboard, Doc.” She turned and left the Mican in confusion.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

I appreciate how real everyone feels. Nobody really fits into a “good guy bad guy” mold, they al, have moments of empathy and triumph that mix with their moments of cruelty and failure.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

The only 'good' one amongst the Adults is Cherry. And, frankly, she's totally compromised anyhow.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I am pretty sure anybody who gets exposed to these characters will end up getting compromised which is why its a good idea to stay away from them i they don't want that. LOL Anyway great chapter!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY

Savra looked at the three dimensional map that showed on the table in what he caustically referred to as the conference room and grunted to himself as Muta entered the room under double guard. They took their posts outside the door and the Wolven female sat herself down gracefully in one of the four seats. “Two guards now,” she asked with amusement.

“I gave you one guard,” Savra told her, “and you nearly throttled him. He’s been moved off your watch.” He pointed to stars on the map. “Thought you should see. Things are already accelerating. My clan’s taken attacks from Dewless clan here, here and here,” he told her, indicating Darkic Delta, Marrenic and the space between Persimma III and Delphan. “Police reports from Minas Daltin indicate the Daklia clan’s gone on the rampage, striking several targets…” He paused to pass a data padd across to his guest.

She pulled up the details on the device and whistled appreciatively. “Told that cat of yours that Daklia wouldn’t appreciate their being on their territory.”

Savra tapped a few more controls, releasing comm call abilities to Muta’s device. “You’re in charge of the independent organisation. Call your Captain and give instructions.”

“And what about where we are?”

Savra’s scar twitched. “You’re… dealing with it at a higher level.”

“More or less true.” She tapped in the contact instructions and, on the bridge, Merran made a note of them whilst relaying. She laid instructions to support the Daklia clan with additional information and forces whilst quietly gaining knowledge of Daklia operations as well. Of course, she didn’t come out and say it directly and Savra huffed slightly as she closed the link. “What,” she asked smartly, “you don’t think I’d say things plainly? Who know who, other than your comms officer, was listening?” She put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her fists. “I’m no fool, Fox. Friends don’t spy on each other but allies do. A saying from the folks.”

“I know. HE,” he said, emphasising the word with contempt, “said it a number of times from what I learned.”

She swung around slightly in the chair. “He’s a duplicitous, venomous old buzzard of a being,” she conceded, “but it’s a good saying to live by. My deputy also inferred we have a sale for the Lappinean *ahem* extension drug.”

“So you’re stating we’re still allies,” Savra asked.

She looked at him bitterly. “Whilst there’s money in it,”

“Good,” Savra said, pulling the hand with the gun in it up from under the table. “Because I’m finding my desire to kill you lessening. Not that I won’t if you give me reason.”


The commpanel for the door in sickbay dinged and, after a moment, Virrik shambled over to the panel to look at who was waiting on the other side. She glanced at it and double checked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating before opening the door.

A moment later, Mati was the one who was surprised. He’d just finished a light lunch of vegetables and Kinta, a skittering Rodent from the Celican systems that had always been one of his favourites. Still was, it seemed. He found himself holding out the remains of the vegetables on a plate as Loretta Lanna stepped in.

The maintenance worker who was the epitome of Lappinean slink, looked at the offered plate and the vegetables on it. “For me,” she asked with a grin.

He looked at her, then down to the plate, then back up to her before tossing the plate away and offering her the one vegetable he’d kept hold of. “Getting used to the new stomach and digestive tract,” he told her. “Wasn’t expecting to see you back again, Lanna. Not after the Doctor told you the truth.”

She took the offered, pointy, vegetable from him and showed him how it could be eaten violently with a crack as she put one end in her mouth and jerked down with her hand. Mati chose to sit close to the wall, allowing him some slack on the tethered collar. “Still like that sound,” he admitted with a bitter chuckle.

“Guethed,” Lanna replied, still chewing her food. She swallowed. “I didn’t appreciate being lied to, Mati,” she stormed, almost stamping her foot. “You should have told me you were still viable.”

His ear drooped slightly. “Still viable for what?”

She pulled a chair around and sat in it, still watching him carefully, as though worrying that he could attack her at a seconds notice. “You know what.”

“No, I…” The ears stood up straight. Mati cursed them. They were ruining his poker face attempts. His eyes widened slightly. “You don’t mean..?”

Lanna laughed a single ha. “Early signs are wrong about a third of the time. Possibly more so with Kavrikka. Still should have told me.”

A moment of silence passed. “How could I,” Mati asked eventually. “I’m a Wolf evolved into… this,” he finished, spreading his arms and pointing fingers at his own body. “I mean, if you were changed into something new, how would you react?”

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have Kavrikka,” Lanna told him. “Hybrids don’t. So there’d be that. But yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d not tell anyone. I’m pretty sure I’d be ashamed…” She stood up and stepped over to the bed to sit beside him. She waved the half a vegetable in front of his nose and watched it twitch. “For a while, of course,” she finished. “Then I might adapt myself to it.”

“What if I don’t…” he sniffed the vegetable again. Licked it. “What if I don’t want to?”

She shrugged as he gave in and bit the vegetable. “Then we adapt to that.”

He paused whilst crunching the food. “We? You actually want to continue..?”

“Well, it’s a treatment,” she confessed. “and, if it comes to it, Wolven look after their children.”

He pushed away slightly. “But I’m not Wolven now, am I? Don’t Lappineans leave their weakest to die?”

“We used to,” Lanna replied, finishing off the vegetable. “Hasn’t been done for centuries though. And you get to show your morals and desires.”

Mati sighed, felt the strange emotions in this new thing that passed for his stomach. He wondered if it was a reaction to the vegetable things. He’d never really tried them before. He hoped it wasn’t a reaction to the meat. He didn’t think he could take that. He had a lot to think about. But not right now. He pushed her down onto the bed firmly and held her there before lowering his face to hers. “One thing,” he said. “For now, only come by after I’ve eaten.” He kissed her as her hands moved to undo the button above his trousers tailhole.


Savra tamped quietly as he sat in his Captains’ chair on the bridge and watched space in front of him. “Where are you, Plebar,” he mused.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

He wants to know where it is and I'm sure it will come in at the most inopportune time. Great chapter!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

.Plebar. is Lieutenant Commander Hawthorne Plebar, Captain of the U.S.C. ship 'Savval' and Aldair Hawle's Cousin.

In this one, Virrik explains the dangers...

FOURTY-ONE

“We’ve been here six hours,” Gallen said eventually, attracting a glance from Savra as the pair sat in the Captain’s office. “I don’t think this ship is coming.”

Savra mused on that. The implications weren’t promising. The Dewless clan had carried out a number of raids on facilities and ships in the hours they’d been here, according to the reports he’d gotten from his clan headquarters but there hadn’t been a sign of Chula himself. It would have been futile to try and chase the Rottian’s ship, Savra knew that. Even with the time to repair the engines that this waiting had afforded them, the Kerbal wasn’t going much above velocity two point five at best speed now. Even a clunker like the Rodomont could outstrip them without breaking a sweat. They’d always be chasing their own tails, like cubs in a tizzee. This way, Chula might need to come for them again. But perhaps he already had? Had he intercepted the Science vessel? Had he destroyed it? Had he just irritated the United Security Council? With the Galnet links still out he had no way of checking. “You might be right,” he said softly. “Anything could have happened. We’d better…”

He froze as Merran came through on the comms. <”Merran to Captain,”> she stated.

He tapped his communications device. “Go ahead.”

<”Thought you’d like to know. Just got the net back up. The Savval got caught up in a dropsy outbreak on Micanna. She helped sort that out and, according to local news outlets, left orbit to return to patrol five hours ago.”>

“Micanna,” Savra breathed. Three days away at this current velocity, a fact he could tell Gallen knew from the look on his face. “Tell Janus to put us on a course to Micanna at best speed. I want to know immediately you detect that ship on long range. Savra out.” He stabbed the button. His new wounds still hurt. He had half a mind to have Virrik take a look at the… No, he thought, he needed to sit in judgement of this new one they had. First, though… “Have you told the crew about the ‘offer’?”

“The gel transformation?” Gallen nodded. “Five volunteers,” he added, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. “Lavernock in engineering. Canine mated to a feline. Wants to stop the arguing. She, however, has NOT volunteered…”

“Probably not a good idea, then.”

“Techrat the Mican in engineering wants Raitchian DNA.”

“Granted…”

“Alwich the Osiran and her chosen mate Blackpool the Mican…”

Savra snorted. “THAT should be an interesting mix! IF it works… DO we have any male Osirans on the ship?

“Ossawy in waste management. Why?”

“Because this thing creates hybrids. It COULD create hermaphrodites if we mix male and female DNA. Best keep it male to male and female to female for now.”

“Right. Last is Patcha the Canine. Says she’ll take anything.”

“Wanted on five worlds. Of course she’ll want anything. Send the quartet’s details to Vera. See what she thinks.”

“Right.” Gallen knew the appointment was over without the Captain saying a word so he stood to leave as he felt the ship turn on its new heading.


Gallen handed over the information personally and he noted how excited ‘Vera’ seemed at the news that she didn’t just have Guinea Pigs to experiment on but absolute volunteers. He tried not to look too disgusted as she wiped a tear from her eye and agreed that, in this initial batch, it might be a good idea to do as the Captain wished. “That,” she told him, “can always come in later. For punishments, perhaps?” She snickered. “Cruel and unusual can be informative. And,” she added, pointing Gallens’ own paper back at him, “enormous fun. And what’s with the paper?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want an electronic trail,”

“True,” she muttered, tidying up her implements. “I could always use this on myself,” she postulated. “Captain might let me wander around if no-one recognised me.”

“Not a chance in any hellscape, ‘Doctor’” Gallen retorted. The thought of you getting anywhere NEAR free rein…”

“Yes, yes,” Virrik said, swatting away the observation. “And what of you, Gallen,” she asked curiously. “I mean, you’ve been mated with Pantha for the best part of a year now…”

Gallen straightened himself up defensively, flexing his claws on reflex. “We fell in love with who the other person is, Doctor. Neither of us is interested in changing that,” he said tightly.

“Even if it makes offspring more likely,” Virrik asked, a note of contempt creeping through her humour.

Gallen kept his anger down, finding it harder to do so than he’d planned. “If Pantha and I decide,” he steamed, his teeth clacking tight together, “we will go about it the normal way…”

“Oh, yes,” Virrik spat, “The ‘normal’ way. Anti rejection drugs! Booster supplements! Vendicardium fourteen and Stakium five!” Now her tone was derisive and he was thankful – almost – that the table was in the way. “It’s all so much more NATURAL than this, isn’t it? This gel, Gallen, is quite possibly the next step forward in evolution for all of us! The potential here is unbelievable! People believe that the gods created us. The gods put genetic blocks in all of us that dictate how much we can change around a fixed point! This thing eliminates that fixed point!” She gestured wildly towards the walls. “If we break the lock that fictional deities put on us, we can become actual deities! Choosing the course of evolution itself! Ending wars by making everyone the same!” She gestured towards him, mania in her eye as he flinched away. “Or start one, especially amongst the genetic purity lot.” She cackled. “Can you imagine the fun we could have, making everyone as we decide they should be?”

“You’re INSANE,” Gallen roared.

“Actually,” she replied, returning to her normal demeanour and dusting herself off, “I’m mad, not insane. I don’t get the thrill in destroying life if there’s no purpose to it. Some sort of end product. I can’t deny the brilliance that went into making this gel. It’s only illegal because a lot of supersafe laws went into it. People afraid of change. But, in this end product stage, they have a point. Can you imagine it getting into the sticky maws of someone who IS insane? Someone like Chula or the Ultimma clan? They could destroy entire races, let alone colonies. We need the counter to the product in this case as much as the product itself.” She shifted a few things around. “I need to know more of what this can do. Everyone does. And I doubt the U.S.C. will loop us in on their findings so I need my own.” She folded the paper into a dart shape and tossed it back to Gallen. “Everyone’s approved. Send them up. I’ll start immediately. Oh, don’t forget that extra Osiran.”

Gallen left. Quickly.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

This gel is pretty terrifying, I mean, it already gave the wolf dude a seizure and turned him into a rabbit and can apparently cause intersex mutations, and Vera/Virrik’s psychotic rant here is definitely not helping.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Guess that will be another relative Hawle will have to introduce to Elena at some point. :lol: I did really like what you did with the chapter!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Harry Johnathan wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 9:32 pm This gel is pretty terrifying, I mean, it already gave the wolf dude a seizure and turned him into a rabbit and can apparently cause intersex mutations, and Vera/Virrik’s psychotic rant here is definitely not helping.
That's the point. Virrik's stating how this thing scares HER. It's just a bit different to how it would scare most people and she knows it's needing to be understood and prepared for. Hence her wanting to experiment.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

It can never be said that Virrik is very curious. However it CAN be said that she has no ethics when it comes to experimentation. LOL
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-TWO

Cherry Berwick lay on her back on dead mans sheets and thought miserably on where her life must have gone so wrong. She should be a Doctor by now, earning money whilst helping people in hospital, working stars knew how many hours for decent pay. Not… It had been answering that advert, she supposed. Paid medical internships. It had seemed perfectly legit. Right up until the moment she’d figured out it was for a criminal clan. Of course, by then they had all her details, bank accounts and family details. It was much easier, one of her ‘seniors’ had said, to own someone’s heart and mind once you had their genitals in a vice. So she’d gone to work for them. Then she’d been kidnapped by another clan and forced into work on this floating metal blob. And she wasn’t going to be able to leave. She sighed again as the image of her in a white coat, smiling at her colleagues, drifted into her brain. Followed by the Tigron bleeding out on a table whilst she had her hands inside him, trying to save him. She pulled her hands around in front of her and stared at them as though they still had the gore on them. She wanted to cut them off. To get the stain off. But that was in her soul, more than her hands. Wasn’t it?


She glanced up as her door chimed. She ignored it. She didn’t want company right now. She doubted she’d ever want it again. She just wanted to… hear the door control being overridden. She sat up as the door opened and a big Celican, in their mid fifties perhaps, stepped in and glowered at her whilst he carried a pack. She shuffled up to a sitting position on the bed, wrapping a pillow over her chest for protection as the door closed and she was trapped in here. “W...Wh…” she stammered.

“I’m Savra,” he said simply, his facial scar twisting. “I’m the Captain. NO doors are barred to me.” He pointed. “That’s lesson one in the book of the ship.”

She put the pillow down, realising she was holding it. She trembled as she shifted around to put her feet on the floor. “Are… are you here to kill me, sir?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Why would I need to do that? I’m told you’re competent by someone who really shouldn’t have shown you who she was. I’m here to instruct you on the basics of survival on this ship. But,” he added, “first things first.”

He threw the pack onto the bedside table and used his hands to remove his shirt, showing his main collection of wounds, and impressive physique.

Cherry sighed. “I’d expected this,” she stated, lying back down on the bed and wondering if it was going to hurt.

Savra looked at her in confusion before things cleared in his brain and he scowled at her viciously. “What..? No!” He moved over, grabbed her shoulders roughly and pulled her back up to her seated position. He looked into her terrified face. “On THIS ship,” he told her with intent, “that will NEVER be allowed. You understand?”

She nodded shakily and he let go. “But I… But I heard pe...people talking they c...c...can do it on, um… raids?”

Savra rolled his eyes and used the just about functioning replication system to order a drink that he passed across to her whilst he sat.


A few minutes later, when she’d calmed down a bit, he spoke again. “The best way to stop resistance in raids,” he told her, “is to reward them for not resisting. We do that by not doing the things we do if they DO resist. So, when they DO resist? The raiders have their fun. They also know that, if they try it on a colleague or prisoner here? They’re for it if a senior finds out. No,” he continued, sitting on the rooms chair. “I want you to check over these wounds. ‘Vera’s busy.” He indicated the pack and Cherry reached over to open it. A smock, a small medical kit including an energy healer and small scanning device. Gauze bandages and antiseptic gel tubes. A field medic’s kit. “Might as well test you out,” he added.

She smiled weakly. “No… No cutting blades?”

Savra didn’t smile. “Don’t trust you that much. Even if Vera does. That’s lesson two. Learn her name. Vera. Last year I had to kill a freighter Captain because an idiot used her name. She’s a good Doctor, which is why she’s alive.”

“Wouldn’t… wouldn’t she be, um, better in prison?”

“She would never see a prison, girl,” Savra said as she scanned his most recent wounds. “She created a plague. Agencies will put her to use. Last time she nearly annihilated a colony of thousands. She knows I’m never going to risk her killing millions. But I don’t want every law enforcement vessel in Council space hunting me and this ship.”

“Are there..?” She paused as he raised an arm to his side so she could find the next wound. “Deep one here,” she advised, “I’ll need to plunge this thing in.”

“Get on with it,” Savra stated simply. “Any more what,” he added, refusing to draw in a breath as she pushed the healer in to set it to work at maximum power.

“Any more rules,” Cherry asked.

“Rule Three. This is a Pirate ship. We’re stuffed full of people who don’t want to be here and those who DO want to be here. If you’re going to start a friend base, start with the ones you’ve already met. Shandy, Barnabus, Pantha, Hastur, Gallen and Janus. They’ll keep you from getting too friendly with the ones you shouldn’t get too friendly with.” After she finished, he put the arm back down and put his shirt back on. “Of course, there is one proviso.” He pointed at her nose. “If you sleep with Janus,” he warned, “make sure you’re protected. He’s an idiot with two brains, if you get me.”


Cherry nodded. She could guess what he was talking about. Hastur had mentioned it. So had Pantha. So had Shandy, now she came to think about it. Boy, that girl had had a weird upbringing. “Seems about it.”

“Right,” Savra said standing up. “Life lessons, Doc. Keep calm. Do your job. Don’t cause problems and you’ll do fine. You can argue your point regards treatment of patients but, if Virrik or I make a decision, that’s it. As for funds, we’ll sort out an account for you.” He took a padd out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Hand here,” he stated, pointing to the screen. She complied and it took a digiprint of her digits for the record. He offered a hand and, almost despite herself, she took it, realising how large his hand was compared to hers. “Pack’s yours,” he mentioned. “Look after it. Welcome aboard.”

A half felt smile. “If I like it or not, sir?”

“Hardly anyone likes it,” he told her stiffly, before heading out of the door


His comm chirped. <”Gallen to Savra,”> the voice said.

He tapped it. “Savra here.”

<”We’ve picked up the Savval,”> Gallen said. <”About half an hour away. She’s under attack.”>

Savra slammed his hand into a bulkhead in frustration. “Which clan,” he asked, seeing his plan dying.

<”Apparently...”> Gallen paused slightly. <”Ours.”>

“WHAT???” Savra didn’t bother to close the link. He just ran for the bridge.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Poor Cherry, I hope she escapes.

Also, what a twist, lol.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Probably better to keep herself on Savra's good side. Him being angry or even mildly annoyed is...not good. :shock:
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-THREE

Savra made his way quickly to the bridge, shoving aside a technical worker who was too slow in getting out of his way. The Russellian slammed the side of her head into the bulk head and bounced off after the Captain had gone past, spiralling to the floor before picking herself up, complaining under her breath before getting on with her work.

“Tell me,” Savra snapped as he hit the bridge.

Gallen had foreseen the speed the Captain would come in at, vacating the command chair two minutes before. They’re on long range,” he said, bringing the situation up on screen. At this range they could pretty much see three shapes trying to dance their way around each other. But it was enough. They couldn’t see the projectile weapons fire from here but everyone knew they were firing on each other. It looked like two light cruisers were tag teaming the Science ship. They’d win, Savra knew, but the shields on the Savval could hold out. The Science ship could outpace them but, to go to high Velocity, they’d need to take power from the shields, thus endangering their engines. “The science vessel’s putting up a fair fight,” Gallen advised.

Savra took a couple of breaths before he responded, getting his anger under control. “Like that matters,” he intoned. “Who are those idiots?”

“The one is the Dilva, under Captain Warrus. The other’s the Plart. Not sure who the skipper is as Quart died last week.”

“Merran..,”

“Hailing them now, sir,” the Mican said hastily. “No response. We WERE broadcasting our identity.”

Savra stood up, looking ready to fight. He was still hunched slightly, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Open a channel,” he said simply.

“Done.”

His face still like a growing storm, his tone like rolling thunder. “This is Captain Savra of the Kerbal. Understand this. Under the rights conferred at Cerrus III, the Savval is under MY protection. I and the clan currently need the assistance of the ship so I’ll say this once to the pair of you who are stupid enough to engage the U.S.C. when there’s a clan war going on. If anything happens to that ship, or if you’re still there when we get there, we will hunt you down and destroy you. I’d advise you both to stand down immediately.” He had Merran cut the line and she complied willingly. “Time on target, Janus,” he demanded.

“Fifteen minutes at this speed,” the pilot remarked, seemingly refusing to complain about the inefficiency of the engines right now.


To the back of the bridge, Barnabus did his best to whisper to Merran. “What’s the ‘Cerrus III’ thing?”

“Sometimes ships stand with us in battle or come to our aid,” the Mican replied. “Part of the rules says debts can be repaid. Means we can bail them out of trouble. Couple years back, we ended up helping three USC ships against a threat. The Savval was one of those ships. Put her shields to our good, even though she couldn’t do much in assault.”

“Um, right,” Barnabus nodded, wondering about that combat. Must have been important.

“Speaking of,” Merran replied. “We’re being hailed by the Savval, Captain.”

“Put her on.”


The screen shifted to display Lieutenant Commander Hawthorne Plebar, replete in her blue uniform. She looked a little haggard, which wasn’t surprising despite the Clan ships stopping their attack. <”Never thought I’d be happy to see YOU, Savra,”> Hawthorne stated. <”Never thought you’d be saving me from your own clan, either.”>

“Be thankful they ARE my clan,” Savra told her, knowing the other Captains were probably listening in. “It means I have some control over them. Be thankful that I’ve been authorised to approach you by Clan Command.”

<”Must be….erious then,”> Plebar replied.

“It is. Serious enough that it could end life as we know it if not checked. We’ll be with you in fifteen. Savra out.” He cut the line. “Kurmak…” he started before pausing for effect.

“I’ll get the files ready. And the container’s already prepped.”

“Merran,” the Captain stated, “tell the Dilva and the Plart to back off but not to go too far. I want words with their Commanding Officers.”


Down in the Medical bay, Virrik was quite happy. Four people lay, naked and sedated, before her. Each were face down on the beds and assorted gurneys she’d set up and she had already used her scalpel to open up wounds on their legs and inserted donor DNA from the dead they’d taken from the other ship earlier as Ossawy the Osiran sat to one side, providing more than a pint of his own blood and saliva for research purposes and credits. She didn’t actually need his blood – yet and she’d slathered his saliva into the wound opened up on the Mican. She had to admit that pair were the two she was most interested in. A Mican and an Osiran. in love with each other, taking the ultimate chance. A warm blood and a Cold blood. A scaled and a furred. She’d seen reports of those the Loper ship had found and brought back before. She knew it had been done in that particular case but that had been something to do with the newcomers- Varkonians or something - genetics being open to the adaptation. Had that had some influence on this thing? She shrugged. That was a thought for another time. Now, she ventured, was time to get things underway. She checked that the tempered steel mouthpiece was in place behind the Mican’s teeth and applied the ointment to the wound before moving on to his chosen mate and using the sample Merran had given her to replicate the treatment.


“Closing in on the Savval,” Janus advised.

“Do I need to shock you before you stop stating the blindingly obvious,” Savra thundered. “Open the shuttle bay. Merran, tell Plebar she can shuttle across now. Gallen, assemble an ‘honour guard’ to greet them. Just in case.”

Gallen nodded and got onto it as Savra left the bridge.


He got down to the bay, where Kurmak had readied the barrel and found four of his normal raiders waiting for him. The red light turned green ad they opened the door before the group exited the shuttle. The door closed behind them and they stood, waiting. They didn’t have to wait long as Hawthorne Plebar stepped from the shuttle, flanked by three members of her security team. “Savra,” she said, stepping forward.

He responded in kind, offering a hand that he accepted.

“Of course,” she said lightly, “I DO have to place you under arrest...”
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Things are getting very interesting...
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Oh and upcoming episodes relate what happens when Savra thinks you've really screwed it up... He can be twisty in his revenge...
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Whoever Savra goes after is gonna wish for death when he is done with them. I can't imagine him showing any sort of mercy!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-FOUR

Savra kept his temper. He knew the rigmarole that was going on and the role he was supposed to play. It almost amused him, despite the background situation that was going on here. He kept a grip on her hand and gestured with his free one to stop his people getting their weapons ready for a fight. He leaned slightly towards the U.S.C. Commander. “Of course,” he said, with enforced lightness. “Of course, you understand that I have to resist arrest, yes? And, as we’re on my ship, surrounded by my people..?”

She sucked her teeth with almost playful abandon. “It wouldn’t look good on my situation report, would it? Trying to arrest a Pirate Captain on their own ship whilst surrounded by more firepower than I brought?”

“Absolutely not,” Savra affirmed. “But you had to make the attempt.” He let her hand go. “Now, shall we get on to the main reason we called?”

She grimaced. “A danger to the universe, you said?”

He nodded grimly. “And I wasn’t lying.”


Virrik sat at her desk, watching her current subjects transforming. Writhing and convulsing and twisting as the effects took control. She was keeping a special watch on the Osiran and the Mican. Both their body temperatures had changed over the last twenty minutes as the gel took effect. The Micans blood temperature was dropping as the Osiran’s rose and she was keeping close attention on how things were to level out. Completely new platelets were forming to convey the new blood around the bodies. She had the idea of gold dust in her eyes and wondered if she might be able to get some sort of paper out of this. Osirans couldn’t use the standard blood packs from the other species, they had to have their own stores. This new one could well assist in making new artificial blood for transplants. Of course, she’d need to get the proof to one of her former colleagues and they’d probably print it under their own names. She snickered. It would almost certainly get them into trouble over how they’d got it. That brought it down to a couple of ‘friends’… She postulated on the boosters that both might need after this as the Micans’ teeth scaled back and… Ooh. Virrik hurried over to the Mican and opened his mouth to watch as the tongue began to swell and split at the tip. She took a step back as the split sent saliva out of the mouth and spattered on her smock. She figured she’d need to get that analysed, just in case.

The Canine was doing well, she thought. Of course there it was more or less cosmetic, just a complete alteration of Canine genes as usually went into making a street mutt as they had for thousands of years on any street in the cosmos. She was looking different though, which was the entire point. She was almost distracted as the door chimed. A look in the camera revealed her new accomplice waiting outside with her escort so she opened the door. “Duty time again, Intern Berwick,” she asked sweetly.

“Well, I suppose I should…” Cherry stepped in and the door swished closed and locked as the Mican looked around the room and, to the amusement of Virrik, seemed to go even paler. “What… is..?”

“Genetic experimentation,” Virrik told her simply. “It’s not all bad, of course. They volunteered. Free cosmetic and genetic surgery for everyone! This’d cost thousands in reputed medical facilities!”

Steeling herself, Cherry looked into the eye of the Mican called Techrat and baulked as the retina changed shape and size before her very eyes. The body arched and she noted where the feet were pushing down the bed as the Mican’s size increased, musculature flowing distinctively down the arms, legs and chest. “Is he growing extra ribs,” she asked curiously.

“Don’t see that in the medical books, hmm? And yes.”

“Why would anyone..?” She paused, lost for words.

“Volunteer for experimental surgery like this? People often resent what they’re not. Their own limitations. In the old days they just pursued changes cosmetically or surgically. This thing gives them a third option that doesn’t cost thousands and take years. Some do it for love…” She indicated the Osiran/Mican pair. “That imbalance of the emotions that makes us do stupid things without rational thought. That one,” she added, pointing at the Canine, “just wants to go on shore leave. Bit difficult when you’re wanted on five worlds.”

Cherry half pointed at her and froze. “Wanted on five worlds? For what?”

“Death of her husband,” Virrik stated blithely.

“Wanted on FIVE planets for that,” Cherry asked, not getting why the matter was so important that five jurisdictions wanted her.

“Five husbands,” Virrik told her, before lifting up the Osiran’s thinning tail. “Watch over the MiRaitchian for a while, would you. Ooh, look, the fur’s going dark grey.”


Hawthorne looked at the report with growing concern as the implications grew on her. “You… can’t be serious,” she breathed, watching the pictures of the metamorphosis as they flicked across the padd.

“But we are,” Savra stated, sitting a short way away from her in the shuttle bay. “We know the Dewless Clan has been trying to get hold of it and we now know why. That’s the next set of pictures, Hawthorne. Taken in one of our cargo bays.” He watched as she flicked onto the new pictures. “How’s that cousin of yours anyhow?”

“Still crazy,” Hawthorne contributed. “Possibly getting married… DON’T go kidnapping the fiancee. Still fighting promotion to a bigger ship after making sure that Sobrii fella got taken in. I understand you had something to do with that? Not that he’s said so publicly.”

“Good,” Savra grumbled. “I had very little to do with it and a lot to gain. Although it seems to have collapsed now anyhow.”

“So I…” She stopped as she watched the recording of the fight in the cargo bay. “Ouch. Not exactly pro wrestling,” she said, her right ear flopping. “I see you but I have no idea who the other fella is.”

A slight smile cracked the scar. “You’re probably the one Council Captain in this sector who wouldn’t recognise him,” he stated. “His name’s Chula. Major enforcer for Ultimma. Presumed dead until we find him working for Dewless in Daklia territory.”

“Wonderful. And, in the midst of all that is your ship and your clan… Which clan is that, by the way?”

“Unimportant. Although the Captains of those two ships will be...” he took a breath. “Reprimanded.”

“Leave them alive,” Hawthorne bargained, standing ready to head out with her gifts of information. “You’re letting me take the pictures,” she said, making it sound more like a statement.

Savra shrugged. “Not one of my crew. Local gang leader who crossed me. Nothing that can be proven. Now the IOC can know what he looks like if they have some crime to prosecute him for. Get that thing off my ship,” he added, pointing at the barrel.

She ventured over and examined the barrel. “Opened,” she mentioned, “and a fair bit gone… Clan wanted it’s cut?” A sigh. “At least we know it exists. And we have your scientists notes. Which we… found… somewhere.” She got two of her people to haul the barrel to the shuttle. “Thanks, Savra.”

“Hang about a while when you get back,” he said, “with things as they are, I think at least one of those two should escort you.” He turned away from her and scowled as he thought on his next ‘diplomacy’.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Safe to say Savra doesn't really like diplomacy. Oh well, even if he hates it though it is still a good skill to have!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Welsh Halfwit wrote: Tue Feb 21, 2023 3:38 pm “Death of her husband,” Virrik stated blithely. “Wanted on FIVE planets for that,” Cherry asked. “Five husbands,” Virrik said.
:lol:
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Been a long time since I have seen a black widow in media. Finding out how each husband met their demise is gonna be fun!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-FIVE

Savra stepped around his office in anticipation, slamming his left fist into his right palm and, on occasion, his right into his left as he waited on the Captains of the Dilva and the Plart, who’d been summonsed by him ten minutes back. The Savval still hung behind them, waiting on their escort and repairing their engines, as Pantha’s crews were doing here. She’d commed in that velocity three was now available. Four in a few hours. He knew she was pulling all the tricks she knew but they needed more parts. The two ships had promised what they could spare but…


The door opened and Gallen escorted a Feline and a Brockian in. The Feline he recognised as Warrus, captain of the Dilva. The other one he didn’t recognise. Probably a promoted first following the death of the Plart’s captain the week prior. The Feline stepped forward as the door closed. “Savra, I need to…”

Savra’s fist interrupted him, bringing a brutal blow to his kidneys, driving all air from his lungs and making him wheeze before a second blow to the side of his mouth sent him spiralling to the floor as the Brockian reacted, then stopped due to a furious glance from Savra. Seeing the fallen feline put his claws out, Savra stamped on the hand twisted to rip the skin and put a kick into the side of the Feline’s body before removing the Captain’s weapons and indicating the |Brockian should pass his over. Reluctantly, the thick set figure complied and Savra stepped around to his chair and sat. “Pick that up,” he told the Brockian, who stooped to help his broken friend up. “You two idiots,” Savra started as Warrus spat out a tooth and held his hand gingerly, “are two idiots I DON’T need right now. You,” he continued, pointing at the Brockian, “have an excuse due to the fact you only just took over, a fact that has NOT been ratified by Clan Command, but you, Warrus…” He bore his teeth. “You’ve been a Captain some while and you..?” Lost for words, he shook his head.

“I have the right to take on any ship I think…”

“YOU DON’T THINK,” Savra roared. “I get the fact that their ship is a Medical supply ship! I get that! I’ve raided several myself recently!” He slammed his fist onto the desk, making it reverberate and shake his tea. “But I would never be STUPID enough to take on a U.S.C. Medical Supply ship! My gods, what WERE you thinking? Close to here the Dewless, the Daklia and the Ultimma are fighting a small scale war that involves our clan and you think it’s a good idea to attack a ship from the biggest space navy there is??? And, what’s worse, when they DO come in, they’ll be pointing their weapons at US! And you thought you were THINKING?”

“Well, wh..when you put it th...that way…” Warrus stammered faintly.

“I do,” Savra seethed. “And now I need to deal with the pair of you. The Savval needs an escort to safety. You two are it. I’ll pass on discipline to the Clan seniors. GALLEN,” he shouted, letting his first know it was time to come in as the Brockian reclaimed their weapons. “Take Warrus to the Medical centre and… that… to the Shuttle bay.”

“Sir,” Gallen replied, escorting the pair out.

Savra hit the comm as it closed and Merran put him through to the first officer on the Dilva. And relaid the same instructions. <”Uh, sir,”> the unseen voice of Dreyfus, the Human first officer said, <”If you’ve told Captain Warrus this, why are you telling me?”>

“Because you’re acting Captain,” Savra stated. “Warrus is about to be medically out of service for a while. Obey instructions, Dreyfus.” Savra shut the link off and called the Medical Bay..


Vera sighed on getting the call and answered. <”I’m sending down a new test subject,”> Savra told her. <”He won’t be with you long. Just give him the new healing gel with whatever pre-specified additions you like and send him on his way, clear? And get dressed.”> The link shut off and Vera chuckled maliciously before getting into her ‘Scopophobia’ suit and finding some Raitchian DNA. She pulled the thin curtain around the beds area to cover the frantic looking Berwick and their transforming subjects from sight. The scaling on the Micans’ feet was particularly entrancing, although she’d filled her vacuum cleaner with the shed fur as scales had begun to line the sides of his legs and trunk in a way that wasn’t quite matching his mates’ growing fur. At least their teeth were beginning to match. She was keeping an electronic eye on their internals and Berwick was there to keep things stable, despite being, wisely, unwilling to get too close. Vera had started the tests on the spittle spat out by Blackpool’s new tongue and the mutagenic contagion was present in the saliva as she’d figured. It seemed that it dissipated after it had done its’ work and… The door chime. She set up the chair and got the gel ready, along with… oh, sample 14. Female Raitchian.


“Is it morning,” Dilla asked rhetorically, as she’d done for most of the days she’d been trapped here. She shuffled in her bed and thought something was different. The bed was bigger. And something to her left was pinning the duvet down. Her eye opened a crack to see Pallik smiling at her.

“Honestly,” he replied, “I have no idea.” He gently kissed her.

“Did we..,” she asked after enjoying the kiss far more than her mother might appreciate.

“We’re both still dressed and I’m on top of the covers,” he informed her, gently stroking the back of her head. “You were exhausted,” he said as she took hold of his stroking hand and pulled it around so she could lick it and take a deep scenting. He nuzzled her neck so he could do the same and she rubbed cheeks with him before turning so he was trapped under her and the duvet.

“Now,” she joked, “you’re at MY mercy!”

“Please, spare me,” Pallik chuckled.

Dilla pretended to think on it. “If we’re to live the life of pirates,” she goaded, putting her weight down on him as her tail whipped happily, “mercy shouldn’t be given often!” She kissed him with intent.


Twenty minutes later, she stepped from his shower and put yesterdays clothes back on before hopping onto his small sofa next to him and eating a breakfast bar. Pallik kissed her cheek. “What do you think of this gel thing they’ve found,” he asked, sniffing his pomegranate and Mint gel on her.

She tensed slightly and thought on the reply. “What do you think about it,” she asked.

Another lick to her cheek. “I think I love you,” Pallik replied. “In fact I’m sure. But I think a few more months? To decide if we want Cubs?”

She looked at him in something akin to shock. “Quite a statement,” she said, her heart a flutter of butterfly wings in her chest as her smile increased. “And they’re called ‘Joeys’.” She settled back against his arm.

“Cueys,” he asked playfully.

“Easy for you to say,” she replied, “but jobs sounds too much like work.” She sighed. “Which we’d better get ready for.”

“Yup,” Pallik said, sighing as deeply as she had. “Same again tonight?”

“Hmmm… Nah.” She saw the dismay on his face and put her hand to his chin. “Tonight you’re in the bed with me.”

His tail thumped the sofa.


Savra watched the ships leave and gave himself a malicious chuckle as he thought of what the imbecile was about to go through whilst awake. Virrik had informed him the anaesthetic only worked if applied before the gel so he was about to prove if sedation was needed… But, now, he had more important things to do. “Now,” he intoned, “time to start dealing with Chula...”
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Looking forward to the aftermath of this chapter! This story is still so good!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Palik and Dilla are cute, lol.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Yeah they are. I hope they stay that way! And don't end up getting involved in something gruesome!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Hastur talks history.

FOURTY-SIX

Shandy hopped up onto a chair opposite her ‘big sister’ in the canteen and looked at her passively as the Dober dealt with the thing that looked a lot like a Trillian Casserole without actually being one. The cook, Hastur had decided, was experimenting again. She took a mouthful and decided she’d rather talk to Shandy, who was obviously after something. “Whatcha want, Shandy,” she asked, knowing her feelings for the food must be showing by how Shandy was laughing.

“Uh,” the girl said, composing herself, “I was, uh, just wondering how, um, the Captain gets along with, uh, the cops? Aren’t we on opposite sides?”

“Oh,” Hastur postulated, feeling the conversations around her going quiet. “It’s a whole thing.” She picked up her… she didn’t want to call it food… and headed for the door. “And it’s not to be talked about here,” she added, indicating Shandy should follow her to their room. The girl slid down, called out that she was taking her break, and followed quickly.


Hastur opened the door and stepped into the mess she called home. Shandy had long since stopped trying to clean anything up and now just made sure no food boxes were left on the floor or table. She’d sat on a padd once or twice and had to pay for a replacement once so she checked the cushions of what passed for their sofa and hopped up to slide down to a seated position. Hastur, not looking to spill her food – or taste it, really – sat more gently. “Did you know that, way back when, a lot of Pirates worked – unofficially, of course – for ruling governments, Shand?”

“I’d heard that, yup,” the girl nodded quickly.

“Should tell you a bit about how they operated. One step away from being legitimate members of the navy but not beholden to rules, laws or even morals. Pirates would raid their countries enemies with near impunity, choosing their targets carefully and stealing the gold or currency that would have gone to their enemies coffers whilst giving their country deniability.” She shrugged. “Sooner or later, of course, the governments would need to hunt them down to keep the peace but… One thing always held true.” She pointed a finger at her young housemate and Shandy tapped claw-to-claw and made a bzzing sound that Hastur copied. “The relationship with the law isn’t all ‘we’re bad and they’re good’ – or the other way around. We don’t go out to engage the biggest navy in space or the local Militias. They make our lives harder and, frankly, have the ability to blast holes in us. The patch here borders Lappinean space and Mican space. You know how many ships those guys have?”

Shandy shook her head. She, of course, knew they had loads but the exact number was beyond her.

“Well, the Council has about five hundred ships in the two constituencies but the Lappineans have about eight hundred and the Micans? About two thousand. And the largest ground military there is. You get why we don’t provoke the law by attacking them now?”

“Coz they’ve got more ships than us?”

Hastur tapped Shandy’s nose. “Exactly, sweetie. Second reason is… We get information about a rival committing crimes on a planet? It’s much easier to make sure pertinent information gets into the hand of local law than it is to do anything ourselves. Less dangerous to us, too. And you can trust me on this one. We were not capable of dealing with this problem goop we had. So it was chucked over to people who might be smarter than us and definitely have access to the best stuff. So, breaktime over?”

Shandy checked the time and took off, giving ‘big sis’ a hug first.

“Give the chit back, Shandy,” Hastur warned her.

Shandy looked innocent. “I didn’t try and take it this time, sis,” she proclaimed. Hastur looked down to check her pockets to find out the practice chit had, indeed, gone. When she looked up again, so was Shandy. Hastur put her head back and laughed.


Cherry Berwick sighed as she watched the abomination of science with fascination. She’d given thought to rationalizing it as just extreme cosmetic surgeries but a look at the monitors had shaken her out of that. TechRat was now half Mican and half Packer Rat down to his DNA and that much uglier to someone who appreciated the male Mican form. He’d put on three stone in weight and several inches in height and had gone completely grey in colour. And he was waking up. She took the bar out of his mouth so he could close his mouth after she’d taken a trimmer to the teeth. She didn’t, after all, want him to bite through his own face, did she? He closed his mouth after the grinding. “Teef f’ll usu’l,” he told her, his voice deeper than he’d heard it before. “It w’rk,” he asked, swallowing.

“Don’t you feel bigger,” Cherry asked, her enthusiasm exaggerated to comfort a potentially violent patient.

“W’rld seems sm’ll’r,” he confessed as she held a mirror over him and unstrapped one hand. He breathed heavily and, shakily, put a new hand to his new face.


Muta kept her arms crossed as she stood in front of Savra, only the bars between them as he watched her. After a moment, she decided she was going to have to be the one to start the conversation. “So,” she asked, showing her dominance to the upstart, “are you planning on flying about space or do you actually have a plan yet, Savra?”

“We’re returning to the colony,” Savra stated. It’s time to put you to work. And your intelligence.”

“Whilst my colony’s burning, you mean?” She sniffed. “My intelligence network might not be all it was yesterday.”

“You still have more than I do,” Savra advised her contemptuously. “To deal with Chula we need something from Dewless and it’s probably on Minas Daltin.”

She ran that through her brain for a moment, before coming up with the obvious. “The College Professor,” she ventured. “The one that’s been taken to perform the operation on Chula.”

Savra nodded once. “And for anyone else who might wish to use it.” He pointed a finger at her in an accusatory way. “You and your people can find out where they may be holding him. I doubt they’d need to smuggle him out. Excessive movement brings attention. Kurmak’s got information from the files that should narrow it down a bit.”

“He IS competent,” Muta admitted grudgingly. “But how are you thinking this will get back to Chula?”

“Because I imagine he has an eye on him at all times. Two more of our safe houses have been destroyed. They’re putting more of them on alert but…”

“They don’t know where he’ll be. This way you can funnel him.”

“This way I can throttle him,” Savra corrected.
Last edited by Welsh Halfwit on Fri Feb 24, 2023 2:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Always good to learn about history! That was you don't end up repeating it!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Chula is an awesome villain, lol.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Chula really is someone that is very convincing that's for sure! Can't wait to see more!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-SEVEN

The streets were quiet on Minas Daltin as Muta, Savra and Rawton walked down the main street to her office. The Wolf Female looked around her as she almost luxuriated in her Vittaki business suit and let out a breath. “Yesterday there’d be people in these streets,” she reminded the others as she stepped away from one of the fallen on the ground. “and less bodies.”

“Dewless had a place on this street,” Savra reminded her, as they reached the location with the Officer standing guard. It had, obviously, been the focus of the attack. The holes in the windows, door and walls spoke to that, as did the prone figures on the ground. He’d heard attacks like this were taking place all over the colony as Daklia clan fought to drive out the Dewless infection. It explained why corpses were drying in the sun, not at the morgue.

The Officer stepped forward. “You’re not allowed I…” the Feline got no further as Rawton jumped him and stabbed a drug into his neck.

The Lappinean caught him as his knees sagged and laid him down. “See, boss,” he said happily, “I can follow orders. No need to kill fuzzy fuzz!” He kissed the cheek of his latest victim and hopped inside.

“If the Professor was here, he’s probably dead,” Muta told the Captain.

“Doubt he’s here,” Savra replied. “Probably never was.”

She looked around, wondering if she could get a call in to her lieutenants and find out the numerical situation. There was a call-comm at the end of the street and a lot of other houses. “Too many escape routes,” she agreed with the Fox. “Likely a dispatch centre that might have information on other places.”


They stepped into a shredded passageway that stank of ionised air and blood, the effects intermingled on the nose and palate of the two carnivores as Rawton hopped down the stairs from the first floor, taking all ten in one go just for the heck of it and just avoiding the canine with the crater in his chest as he landed. “Think this one’s one of the Daklia,” he mooted. “There’s signs a cannon was mounted at the top of the stairs…” He kicked the body aside. “And there’s a hole in the floor by there,” he added, gesturing to a hole that had been perfectly visible anyhow as it hadn’t been under the body.

“What was the kick for,” Muta asked, interested.

“Had an Aunt I liked once,” Rawton explained. “A Daklia killed her.”

“You’ve claimed that of five clans, Rawton,” Savra said, stepping into what passed for a kitchen.

“Logic means I’ll be right one day,” the Lappinean protested, grinning as he loped into the room after his boss. “Reckon they cooked much in here,” he asked.

“Mainly books, probably,” Muta remarked, reaching for one of the few padds left on the shelf.

“Wouldn’t do that,” Rawton warned. “Dewless use traps.” Muta paused and let him scan the devices first. “Not a bomb,” he said, taking the object down and turning it on. “Not encrypted either.”

“So probably worthless.”

“Probably,” Savra agreed. “Let’s see what it says anyhow.” He took the device as Muta stepped out into the hall. Savra glanced from Rawton to the hall and the Lappinean wandered closer to the doorway, watching Muta intently. For his part, Savra ran down the tabs and apps on the system until he got to one that interested him.


Muta stepped into the ‘living’ room, where so much of the blood had been shed. What remained of several people were practically melted to the furniture by energy beams and hot blood, trapped in expressions of shock and pain, their faces hanging open for all to see, although only the ghoulish would celebrate, Muta thought. Rawton watched her from the passageway, his ear twisting as he heard something outside. A soft ‘click’. Not like a gun. Like a… He shot down the passage, out the door and landed on a photographer taking pictures through the window. He bore the Raitchian to the ground and spat in his face so he couldn’t see Rawton’s visage.

“I… I… Minas Delta Flyer,” he started, naming his news agency.

“Don’t care,” Rawton told him, putting a hand to his throat. “Your camera or your life,” he said happily. “Paper Ratzi making the headlines,” he snickered.


“Berwick,” ‘Vera’ said quickly, whilst watching the monitors on Alwich the Osiran female… Well, not exactly Osiran anymore. “Come look at this!”

Cherry stepped in closer to the mad scientist than she was comfortable with and looked at the internal scans of the still mutating victims in the room.

Vera pointed to something on the internal scans. “What would you say that is,” the elder asked.

Cherry peered and frowned and ran over what she knew of Osiran anatomy, which wasn’t total knowledge as the race were just returning to the U.S.C. but… “It… looks like a… Well, if they were mammals, that’d be the right place for a… womb?”

Virrik sat back in thought. “It might very well be,” she conceded. “Although the egg fertilization area is still there and connected to this new thing, which is ALSO connected to the…” She turned her monochrome face to her new junior. “In the old days,” she explained, “centuries, even millennia ago, some Osirans gave birth to their young like we do. Or you do. I’m never having any. That eventually got bred out of them. Maybe it’s used genetic traits that are still there, even after all this time, to reconstruct the reproductive system to a form that works for the new creature. Bet you never thought you’d end up studying something like this with Professor Salca.”

“No, I… You know Professor Salca?”

“Met him once, before I was kicked out. Colonial dinner on Karlish III. What a boring, pedantic, tosspot he was. Hated not being the smartest in the room. Kept trying to prove himself.”

“Well, he tended to be the smartest in the room at the teaching hospital. He’s probably hard at work now and…” she drifted off, thinking of the time she’d read Salca’s autobiography and the time he’d nearly died after contracting an intense bout of food poisoning on the way back from… Karlish III? She looked at the Brockian, whose smile seemed to be growing wider as she looked, giving an evil twinkle to the edges of her eyes.

“I think he blamed the sausages,” Virrik said, before getting on with her work/fun.


Rawton returned to the house with a slightly blood smeared camera and looked up to see Savra glaring at him. “Journalist,” he said simply. “Needed a hint that I was serious about ‘camera or your life’. Didn’t cut him much.”

“Where’s…” He stopped as Muta appeared at the top of the stairs and strode down imperiously.

“Nothing much up there,” she declared, “but there’s a vehicle out back.”

“And no rear door we can find,” Savra remarked. “Probably matches the journey logs in this though.” He waved the padd. “Let’s go before the officer wakes.”


They headed around back, the comm she’d found upstairs safe in Mutas’ back pocket.
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I am so engrossed in this story right now! Keep up the writing of it and making it be so good please!
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Rawton is funny lol
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

People who are psychotic and violent often are. :P
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Re: SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Fore warning. Not this part but the next one. Savra is a BAD guy. He does BAD things. He doesn't like doing them but sometimes it's needed.

FOURTY-EIGHT

Rawton sat in the passenger side seat of the elongated vehicle as Janus sat in the driver’s seat, wearing a Chauffeur’s uniform and luxuriating in the fact he was actually driving this expensive battle tank due to Muta not being able to find any of her drivers stupid enough to drive to one of the main firezones today. The Lappinean was checking every button he could reach to see if it activated some sort of external weaponry until Savra, sat in the back with Muta ordered him to stop. He turned in the seat. “But what’s the point of a vehicle like this if she doesn’t use it to kill her enemies?”

“Born a few hundred years too late, weren’t you?”

He smiled his brightest, most disarming and worrying, smile at her. “Prey wars would have been different, sure.”

“It’s harder to convince the local law that you’re not dangerous if you’re riding an armed death wagon, Rawton,” Savra warned him.

“Gotcha,” he said, winking at his Captain and pointing at him conversationally, “camouflage.”

Muta rolled her eyes. “Mati’s lucky that goop didn’t make him half stupid,” she reasoned.

“The square root of 316 is 17.7 recurring,” Rawton told her, having turned to look forward and pushed back in his seat to relax. “I’m not stupid,” he assured her, “I just like blood a lot and I have impulse control problems. Sure you can appreciate that.”

“I suppose I can,” Muta said, a little confused as Savra noted how, every now and again, Rawton could get entirely lucid.

“Not much point in going on, ma’am,” Janus said. “He’s asleep.”

And the snoring told them he was right.


Three smoking vehicles and seven smoking bodies told of a fight on the run as they approached the ruined door of a bunker. Someone staggered forward from the bushes and opened fire on them, energy weapon fire shaving off the vehicles refractive coating as Janus approached at speed, throwing the Canine onto the bonnet and smashing him hard enough into the unyeilding windscreen to leave a rose of blood on it as he crashed across the roof and fell to the gravel on the other side, rolling to a stop as Janus slammed on the brakes to avoid slamming into the bunker itself. Rawton was out of the passenger door first, leaping back to make sure the Canine was dead. He cocked his head as he heard the Canine speak. “Huh,” he said. “She was probably good and went to the holy park. You’re on your way to the infernal pound so you’ll probably never see her,” he told the figure before it breathed its last and he returned with the fallen weapon. “Still viable, I think,” he said, tossing Savra the weapon.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing of use. Just that he was going to see his mother soon. I told him some.. consoling words.”

“Not like you,” Savra muttered, finding that the gun was, indeed, still viable.

“Got a generous nature me, sometimes,” Rawton stated, heading past and into the bunker.


Pantha looked up from where she was working on engine recalibrations, looking to get the main system back up to one hundred percent before the next time it wss battered by weaponry – which would probably be later on today, given recent events. Pallik and Dilla were working together as usual and she smirked that she’d been right about that pair. “Feline one,” she told herself, “universe nil.”

“Running score against the universe, Chief,” a sort of familiar voice asked her. “Doesn’t sound like you’ll win too many?” She looked up at the shorts wearing creature leaning on the console she was working under and took a few seconds to recognise the grinning grey lump.

“Techrat,” she asked, pushing herself out from under.

“Never more than now,” he said happily as she stood and grasped him by his arms to feel how much bigger and stronger his muscles were right now. “Where do you need me?”

She leaned forward, as though to whisper as others started heading over. “Can you still fit in conduits,” she asked before grinning.

“I’m not THAT big,” he protested, poking her in the chest.

“Big enough that you only seem to be wearing shorts, hmm?”

“Lucky the store had them in,” he confessed. “They’re finding some shirts.” He patted his new rib area. “So..?”

“Light duties only for now,” Pantha told him, before tapping him on the nose. “I don’t want you bleeding until it’s confirmed the mutagenic’s stopped working, got it?”

He sighed. “Suppose so. I’ll get on the overwatch systems. I can lift a lot more,” he added as one of the Lappineans poked his leg.

“Don’t want you putting your new back out,” Pantha commented, getting back to work under the console as Techrat stepped over to the console that ran overwatch.


“Seems that stuff works,” Dilla commented, glancing over at the new crossbreed in the room. She’d paused in the plasma coolant checks to see what was going on over there.

Pallik lifted his Collian head, took in the sight, and brought his head back down again. “He always felt he was more of a Raitchian, it’s true,” the more experienced engineer told her. “What are you thinking?”

“That it gives us options,” she told him. “For the future, I mean. If things continue…”

Pallik grinned. “Back to work, Sweetie,” he goaded, getting a slight elbow from the Quokkan for his troubles.


The bunker was quiet now. The silence after battle, when all the shooting was done, hung heavy on the ears as they moved through the barely flickering emergency lighting casting everything into a black and red light dependent on what second it was. A wolven body propped itself in a seated position in a doorway, eyes looking towards the floor. “One of yours,” Savra asked Muta.

“It’s not like I know all the Wolven,” she replied. “There are several million of us across the sector.”

“Indeed,” he replied simply, looking around the wrecked room. “Rawton?”

“Hmm,” the berserker asked, flipping his attention to his Captain? “Oh, is there anything living, huh?” He listened with his powerful ears, eventually, pointed to the smashed book case on the side wall. “That bookcase has a heartbeat,” he remarked. “At least it has one behind it.”
Commander Hawle. U.S.C. Loper. By the talented DDeer.
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