The Cresperian Alliance

by Stephanie Osborn

  "I don't think they have sea otters in the Atlantic, sir,” Bangler replied thoughtfully, feeling somewhat dizzy and seizing on the concept in an effort to focus. “It might be the Eurasian species, though. They're making a comeback around here."

  Tomlinson rolled his eyes. “Either way, Bang, somebody's watching out for us!"

  "Biology major,” Nunez noted with a grin.

  "Lead the way, boss!” Wersky declared.

  Tomlinson plopped down on his ass in the slippery mud and shoved off. He zipped downhill on the slick, rain-wet surface, easily following the contours of the animal-carved descent. Sira followed immediately. Nervous, Piki located Bangler by perception and clambered onto his back. “You helps?” she whispered in his ear.

  "...Yeah,” he agreed, hoping his arm and chest would hold out. He didn't think his arm was bleeding too much—he hadn't felt blood on his fingers yet—but he was pretty sure his ribs wouldn't take much more pounding, and as heavily as he was breathing, his chest hurt bad. Nevertheless, he eased himself onto the otter slide, Piki on his back, and shoved off.

  Seconds later, the rest were following suit.

  There were a couple of mishaps, where the otter runs ran out or ended in mud piles, and once Bangler went chest first into a boulder, burdened as he was with Piki's additional weight. He managed to protect the Crispy's hands and feet. But he thought he felt something crack in his chest. Suddenly breathing became a lot more painful. Shit. There goes a rib. Thank God for body armor, or I'd be singing soprano about now, he thought, looking on the bright side. He picked himself up, hefted the lightweight Piki more firmly onto his back, and ran after the others, trying hard to ignore the pain. After all, if I don't make the sub, that'll hurt a lot worse. Adrenaline coursed through him, and instantly the pain diminished.

  The shore was predictably rocky, with waves breaking over boulders the size of Volkswagens and seaweed, ripped from the bottom by the passing storm, lodged slimily in every crevice. The team could faintly hear boats already headed out to a dark, sea monster like shape barely discernible in the foggy bay. Another two rubber boats rested onshore, their pilots antsy to be off. The last of White Horse bailed unceremoniously into the rafts, Sira and Tomlinson in one, Bangler and Piki in the other. Several of the remaining team jumped in with Sira and Tomlinson, including Taylor, who had stayed behind to help haul up Bangler and the third new Crispy. Wersky and Nunez joined Bangler and Piki, and Nunez eased a clinging Piki off Bangler's back as the pilots shoved off and revved the stealth engines toward the submarine. The female medic gently surveyed Piki's hands.

  "Rope burns,” she said, “pretty nasty. They're superficial, but pretty extensive, and I know from experience how painful they can be. But I can treat these.” A kit came out of her medical pack and Peggy gently cleaned the rope bits out of the abrasions, then swabbed something on Piki's wounds. Piki sighed in relief as the numbing agent in the antibiotic gel took effect.

  "Thank,” she said softly to the medic. “I can tell some mens nice, some mens bad. You nices, all.” She waved her denuded palms. “Now I shall concentrate, and fix this."

  "The bad man hurt you,” Peggy added tentatively, catching one of Piki's hands and applying a temporary bandage until the alien woman could close the wound. “Do you need help fixing that, too?” She caught Piki's other hand and did the same.

  "No,” Piki sighed. “It is fixed, but... it is not the same. It does not hurt any more, though."

  "Are you going to have a baby?"

  "Baby?"

  "UH boy,” Wersky tossed over his shoulder, looking back at the shore past the pilot, machine gun still at the ready. Suddenly the raft, already storm-tossed, bucked hard, and everyone grabbed for purchase to avoid being launched into the drink.

  "What the hell was that?!” Nunez demanded.

  "Dunno,” the pilot remarked, puzzled, then shrugged. “Probably a sunken log."

  "Great,” Wersky grumbled. “Now we're gonna sink. And in this weather.” He spared a moment to glance apprehensively about them at the rough, choppy water of the misty inlet.

  "These rafts are tougher than that,” the pilot chuckled. “We're fine."

  "Back to business, then,” Nunez said. “Piki, a baby is... uhm, reproduction, making a new person, uh..."

  A soft call floated across the water in Cresperian. “Ll'tk, Piki. N'do ll'tk?"

  "Oh,” Piki said, understanding. “No. No baby. I stop that before he do. I made his sac empty—fast fast. Then made his... uh... I don't know right word for that.” She gestured with her bandaged hands to indicate male genitalia. “He called it whanger? I made it go short, small, floppy. Make it so it would not get long and hard anymore. It hurt lots, because it was already long and hard, so he screamed back. Piki laughed then; he not make babies ever. Not hurt me that way no more ever. That why he beat."

  "Uh BOY,” Wersky added, trying to find a way to cross his legs in the rubber boat.

  "Um,” Bangler began, starting to feel decidedly light headed as some of the adrenaline faded. “I hate to interrupt, but... um—” Appear, he thought woozily, and instantly became visible, his torn bloody sleeve readily apparent, as well as a hole in the chest of his shirt exposing his bulletproof vest. Before he could say any more, he slumped in the boat, semiconscious. Piki let out a small wail of concern.

  "Oh shit,” Nunez muttered, alarmed. “I didn't know he got hit.” She set to work, rapidly slitting open the sleeve of his shirt and bandaging his arm to stop the blood loss; the chest would have to wait. By the time they'd arrived at the Sea Wolf, smelling salts were bringing him around.

  .Piki stayed close to Bangler, not only concerned for his well being but seeming to feel safe with him, and together they managed to climb the ladder to the top where he escorted her inside.

  As the passengers entered the sub, the pilots dexterously deflated the rafts and stowed them and their engines in a compartment near the stern.

  Within seconds, the hatch was closed and secure, and the submarine disappeared beneath the whitecap covered surface of the weatherbeaten loch.

  Two minutes later, a bright flare erupted from the pinnacle of the tor, illuminating the sea loch. Seconds after, a concussion wave swept across the surface, temporarily smoothing the rough water.

  A large head broke the water. It looked around, big eyes glowing luminously in the dark. Its gaze riveted on the blaze at the head of the loch, and it watched for several minutes. A deep, booming grunt escaped its mouth, a sound of annoyance at the amount of disturbance its home waters had experienced in the last couple of hours.

  Then it dove back down. A large, smooth, dark grey body followed the head, leaving not a ripple in its wake.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 6

  They were met by the Sea Wolf's small medical staff, with Dr. Ontan Forcula, the Chief Medical Officer, leading the way. “I hear we have injuries?” he asked.

  "One abused Crispy and one injured soldier here, sir,” Tomlinson noted.

  Forcula instantly spotted the bandage on Bangler's arm, and the Crispy Piki clinging to the other arm. “Nature of injuries?"

  "Sergeant Bangler took a bullet in the arm and one in the vest, sir,” Nunez reported. “Cresperian Piki was beaten, raped, and suffered rope burns to her hands in the rescue."

  "I think I got a busted rib, sir,” Bangler murmured, still light headed from the pain and difficulty breathing.

  "You sound like it,” Forcula noted, listening to his shallow breathing and choppy speech pattern. He turned to his team. “Two stretchers, to sickbay, NOW."

  Bangler all but tumbled into the stretcher, but Piki refused. “I can walk,” she averred, starting to improve her grammar through listening to the others talk. “I have already repaired most wounds.” She turned to Sira. “This nice man,” she waved a hand at Bangler. “He help me."

  "He did,” Sira agreed. “Bang is a very nice man. And very brave."

  "Bang. Like the weapon sound—ba
ng-bang. He has—uhm, fun? No, that what bad man try to do; funny is right word. He has funny name. You shall help me fix him?"

  "I'll help you fix your hands first, then yes, I'll help you fix Sergeant Bangler,” Sira said, smiling gently.

  "Fix?” the CMO wondered. “I've heard scuttlebutt about alien abilities, but how can a human woman help a Crispy fix something?"

  Sira just smiled. “Come, doctor,” she said, taking his arm, “you'll see."

  By the time they'd reached sickbay, Forcula knew Sira's origins; Sira and Piki had repaired the superficial rope burns on Piki's hands, removed the bandages, and were concentrating on easing Bangler's pain. He sighed in relief. “Thanks, guys,” he murmured groggily. “Between that and the pain meds, it's not too bad."

  "You save me,” Piki said softly. “I help you."

  "You SAVED me, I WILL HELP you,” Sira corrected gently.

  "Ah. Yes. That, too,” Piki gave a half Cresperian, half human grin. Most of the other humans glanced away, not quite able to handle Piki's current facial appearance, but Bangler fixed his gaze on her and responded with a lopsided, drug induced grin of his own.

  "I take it you two can fix the busted rib?” Forcula wondered.

  "Yes,” Sira verified, “but you'll have to remove the bullet in his arm before we work on it. We could probably do it ourselves, but it will be faster if you do. Then we can close the wound behind you."

  Forcula nodded and began scrubbing up as Nunez removed Bangler's shirt and Piki and Sira tended to the broken rib. Soon Bang was breathing much easier.

  "It is not broke too badly,” Piki told him. Her grammar was still a little rough on the edges, but she was learning fast. “Everything is in place. We,” she indicated herself and Sira, “is just reattaching."

  Bangler, thoroughly looped by this time, decided Piki was cute to listen to.

  "There,” Sira said. “It's intact. There may be a little residual soreness for a few days, Sergeant, but you'll be fine."

  "I will help,” Piki declared. “Make him all well soon."

  "Now for the arm,” a masked Forcula noted, bending over the man on the stainless steel table. “Scalpel...” His nurse placed the scalpel in his gloved hand.

  "CUT?!” Piki almost shrieked, reaching for the injured sergeant. “Don't cut Bang-bang! No!"

  "Hush, Piki,” Sira whispered, grabbing her hand. An anxious Piki clutched onto Sira tightly. “They have to get the bullet out. Then you and I will fix the cut. It will be fine."

  "Get the bang-bang out of Bang-bang?” she queried, a twinkle beginning to appear in orange eyes.

  Sira laughed. “Now you're getting it,” she said. “That's right."

  The two Crispies watched as the human surgical team swiftly removed the bullet from Bangler's upper arm. Between local anesthesia, painkillers, and the Crispy abilities, Bangler felt no pain. “There ya are, ya damn little bugger,” Forcula muttered to himself, grasping the lump of lead with a forceps. “Come on out of there."

  As soon as the lead was removed, Sira and Piki went to work on Bangler's arm. The surgeon watched in amazement as the small wound slowly closed, seemingly of its own accord. Ten minutes later, only a red mark indicated where it had been. Bangler sighed gratefully.

  "Bang-bang feels better now, eh?” Piki asked, her mouth slit curving upward.

  "Uh-huh,” he said woozily, “Bang-bang feels much better."

  "Let's get him in a bunk now, so he can sleep it off,” Forcula decided. “He stays in sickbay overnight, though."

  "How are the other Crispies?” Tomlinson asked McAllister.

  "They're reasonably well, if a little malnourished,” Mac responded. “Upset at the way their friend was treated, but they're grateful we got all three of them out. They want to talk to Sira badly, though, to understand why in hell a Crispy would ever want to become human, after the way Piki was treated."

  "I bet,” Tomlinson sighed. “Now we get to repair the mental damage as well as the physical."

  "Right,” Mac agreed.

  "Heard anything about the others?"

  "Unit Celebration got picked up. They're safe, although I understand the flight crew is a little folded and spindled,” Mac noted. “But they didn't lose anybody. Evidently Sea Wolf hasn't heard about the other operation sections yet.” He shook his head. “By now they're either extracted or dead, I'd expect."

  "Here's hoping the former,” Tomlinson said, grimacing.

  Once Bang was ensconced in bed, Forcula turned to Piki. “All right, miss, let's see to you now,” he said gently. He led her to an exam room, along with Nunez, serving as his female nurse. The table was equipped with gynecological stirrups, and they helped her onto it, placing her feet in the stirrups and gently spreading her legs.

  Before the doctor could move, and without his remembering it happening, Piki was across the room. “NO!” she declared, with all the firmness she could muster. “You not hurt Piki that way! I shall make your sac go, too!"

  "Wha?” a wide-eyed Dr. Forcula said, mouth hanging open. “No, no, dear. This is a medical examination. I need to look at the place where the bad man hurt you and make sure it is all right."

  Sira came running in, having sensed Piki's anger and fear. She took one look at the tableau and understood. “Perhaps I should do this, doctor,” she suggested smoothly.

  Forcula shook his head. “I have to write the report,” he protested. “I'm responsible for her well being while she's on board, and I can't sign off on an exam I haven't conducted."

  "Piki, relax and ‘look’ at Dr. Forcula,” Sira suggested. “You can tell he is a good man, not like the one who hurt you."

  Piki stopped and the orange eyes seemed to cross temporarily. “Oh,” she said softly. “Oh.” She slowly moved back toward the doctor.

  "I'll stay here and observe the exam,” Sira determined. “Piki will feel better that way."

  "I trust, now,” Piki said. “But I..."

  Forcula nodded. “My sister was raped,” he revealed. “I understand the emotional trauma. It's okay, Piki.” He turned to Sira. “Ms. Whitman, please do stay."

  Sira helped Piki back onto the examination table.

  A distraught Piki endured the exam, holding tight to Sira's hand, but was still very glad when it was over. Forcula declared she had no lasting damage other than to her hymen, which had healed normally after first intercourse. “I did manage to get residual DNA evidence, though,” he noted, tucking away several vials and poly bags for later analysis. “There were some skin cells and... other mucosa... adhering to Piki's pelt."

  "I told you,” Piki declared quietly. “I fixed it."

  "We know, Piki,” Sira offered gently, “but he had to do that so his superiors would know you are being well taken care of now. And now we have evidence against your captors, to justify what we did in rescuing you and destroying the compound."

  Piki sighed.

  "Your friends have eaten, Piki,” Nunez noted. “Would you like something else to eat, too? The bad men didn't feed you very well, and you need more nourishment. I understand that Crispies don't have to eat as often as humans, but still, you need more than you've gotten."

  Piki looked at Nunez, and the medic could have sworn there was pleading in the alien orange eyes. “May I eat with Bang-bang?"

  "Sergeant Bangler is asleep, Piki,” Peggy explained. “He's resting so he'll recover his energy after all the injuries."

  "I can help that,” Piki suggested. “I will eat quietly and help Bang-bang."

  Sira, Nunez, and Forcula exchanged glances.

  Sira saw Piki settled in a chair right next to Bangler's bed along with a tray of appropriate food, which to the humans looked and smelled mildly like regurgitated stomach contents, but which Sira assured them would be acceptable. “It isn't our normal fare, true,” she explained, “but is more like what you would term ‘emergency rations.'” Then the converted Crispy placed a small palm computer on the bedside stand, having already instructed Piki in its u
se. Sira and Peggy closed the door and withdrew down the narrow corridor.

  "She's got it bad for him, doesn't she?” Nunez asked the Crispy human, her heart sinking. Peggy had developed somewhat of a fondness for Ed Bangler, and hoped it might develop into something more. She wasn't sure if she would have a rival in the alien woman or not.

  "It is certainly headed in that direction,” Sira admitted, to Nunez’ dismay, “according to my perceptive sense. He saved her, and she has bonded to him because she trusts him."

  "Does she love him?"

  "Not yet,” Sira decided. “She has not completed enough of the transformation to understand what humans know as romantic love. But if she does—it will prove very difficult, given what she has already endured.” She hesitated, then continued, “I will speak to John about this, so it will be noted in the record and get to affiliated units, but please spread the word among your unit to watch their language around Piki. It seems the Prime Minister was decidedly crude in his speech during her rape, and, well...” She shook her head. “She reacts especially badly to the, uh, the ‘F-bomb,’ as John puts it."

  "Uh boy,” Nunez muttered.

  Sira laughed. “I am going to have to tell John to rename his unit to ‘Uh boy,'” she giggled. “Between you and Corporal Wersky..."

  "Uh boy,” Nunez uttered again, not sure if she was serious or not. A red faced Sira clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle giggles, and Peggy realized she was joking.

  The two women burst into laughter and headed to their quarters aboard the submarine.

  When Bangler woke, he wasn't alone. Piki had pulled her chair over to the bedside and sat there, one forearm resting along his chest, as her other hand manipulated the palm computer. Flickering pages reflected in orange eyes, which gazed intently at the small screen. He caught his breath, and his eyes widened, not sure what to think.

  Piki looked up at the sensation of his sudden inhalation. “Oh, hello, Bang-bang,” she gave him that half human, half alien smile. “You are awake. How do you feel?"