Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin)

by Christian Matari

  “What are you up to, Doctor?” Taylor called, fixing Gehringer with a stare and raising an eyebrow.

  “Nothing at all,” the scientist gasped. “I was just about to commence a sequence of parallel studies into the magnetic resonance of the gas giant we’re passing.”

  “There must have been some truly remarkable breakthroughs in astrophysics in recent years. I’ve never heard of any research requiring the use of a dog,” Taylor mused.

  “Oh… right… well, come in,” Gehringer stuttered, waving him hurriedly into the lab.

  Taylor crossed over and squeezed himself through the opening, which Dr. Gehringer appeared to be trying to keep as small as possible, as if he were guarding a most terrifying secret. Inside the narrow, white-walled lab, beakers and vials were neatly arranged on the counters running along both bulkheads while a complicated automated scanning device was busy analyzing what appeared to be a blood sample.

  “Is that from the dog?” Taylor asked.

  “It is, but you must swear you will tell no one,” Gehringer urged him.

  “Why are you taking blood samples from the captain’s pet?” Taylor inquired. “It’s not diseased is it?”

  “Oh no, perfect health, perfect health,” the scientist muttered. “I simply required its genetic code.”

  Taylor began rubbing his temples, not sure whether he really wanted to know the reasoning behind the scientist’s latest bout of madness.

  “And why exactly do you need Spot’s DNA?” he asked, already regretting his question.

  “It’s simple really. Studies have shown that females are up to twenty-six percent more likely to copulate with a male who shows a nurturing side, specifically in regards to animals,” Dr. Gehringer explained, his eyes shining. “Of course, felines produce higher results, but given the lack of a viable genetic sample, there was really only one option left available to me.”

  “Wait. Let me get this straight,” Taylor gasped. “You want to clone the captain’s dog… just so you can get laid?”

  “Oh no, not at all. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dr. Gehringer stuttered, seemingly appalled at the very thought.

  “Oh good. I thought maybe-”

  “Cloning it would be no good, you see,” the scientist continued as if Taylor hadn’t spoken. “I’ll need to re-sequence the DNA to create a unique specimen. By building on the genetic template procured from the captain’s canine, I will be able to create another, different canine. Two identical animals on board the Tengri would just be bizarre.”

  “Yeah. That’s what’s weird about all this,” Taylor sighed, turning to leave.

  “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Dr. Gehringer called as he raced after the astonished young medic.

  * * * * *

  Almost a week had passed since they had departed Semeh’yone station. The Tengri had coasted past the Hiodan planetary system, and now drifted through empty space with nothing around her save for the deep black void. They’d expected Shikari’s envoy to rendezvous with them soon, but for almost an entire day they had floated aimlessly, hoping to be contacted at any moment.

  Captain Mitchell had taken up position on the bridge, foregoing sleep, fearing that something might have gone wrong. They’d taken a great risk accepting the mission, but, the captain told himself, with great risks came great rewards.

  Raven had her legs slung up on the top of her console and had been nodding off for the past hour, Marcus and the rest of the clones clustered at the back of the bridge dozing or murmuring quietly amongst themselves. Mitchell had just swallowed a fist full of painkillers when Navigator Wei noticed the blip on the ship’s sensors.

  “Captain,” Navigator Wei alerted him. “I’ve got movement off the starboard bow.”

  “Put it onscreen,” the captain ordered, his booming voice startling the others into wakefulness.

  The image of a large freighter appeared on the forward viewscreen. It was a dark, sleek vessel, an almost-flat elongated triangle with sharp edges and no discernible bridge – or any other protrusion larger than an antennae – three times larger than the Tengri. As it began to adjust its course to intercept, Navigator Wei received an audio communication in sibilant Terran.

  “Captain Mitchell, thisss isss Rossshana aboard the Mitushi Nalphalo.”

  “We read you Roshana. This is Captain Mitchell aboard the Tengri.”

  “Excccellent Captain,” Roshana proclaimed. “Pleassse ssstand by while we engage the gravitronic beam to pull you into our docking bay.”

  Without waiting for Mitchell’s acknowledgement, Roshana ended the communication.

  As the freighter drew closer, her murky hull occluding the stars behind her like a looming shadow, Mitchell ordered the bridge crew to power down the engines. They had barely finished doing so when a vast opening began to appear in the Sheshen ship’s mid-section as her docking bay doors started to slide open. The Tengri was suddenly enveloped in the familiar energy of what they now knew to call a gravitronic beam. As their course began to shift, aligning them with the freighter’s open bay, Captain Mitchell couldn’t help but feel an imminent sense of dread.

  “Meet a nice alien in a bar. Get eaten by his ship,” Taz joked, though no one laughed.

  As the freighter began to swallow their ship whole, pulling them inside its dark belly, Mitchell couldn’t help but feel that he might have made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter 22

  Focused streams of emerald light poured from tiny lamps embedded in the dim metal bulkheads overhead, illuminating a tiny part of the docking bay. The old squad, Dr. Gehringer and Serena had assembled on a narrow gangway slung between the Tengri’s forward airlock and a wide, circular platform at the end of the gangway. Several intersecting pipes loomed in the shadows beneath them, each one over a meter in diameter. The surrounding darkness obstructed their view.

  The sudden release of a jet of vapor announced the sliding open of a tall, narrow door set in the bulkhead on the opposite side of the round platform. The dimly-lit corridor it revealed housed four slender, individual shapes.

  “Uriu lo ssshamata osssh,” a figure in the middle whispered to its companions, the echo of the docking bay carrying its voice further than it would have liked.

  The team was on edge. The three outermost figures were visibly armed with what appeared to be carbine-type weaponry, causing Marcus to grasp his own SGC K-660 more firmly, although he resisted the urge to bring it up to his shoulder.

  “Captain Mitccchell,” came the voice of Roshana, the central figure. “What a pleasssure it isss to sssee you again.”

  He stepped forward onto the platform, accompanied closely by a trio of well armed Sheshen bodyguards wearing all-encompassing suits nearly identical to his, save for a lack of the glowing symbols that adorned Roshana’s armor. Only one symbol was embedded on their chestplate, no doubt an insignia defining their allegiance.

  “Quite a ship you have,” Captain Mitchell commented, peering through the darkness at his surroundings, making sure to emphasize his awe.

  “Thank you Captain,” Roshana hissed. “It isss but one of many in our employ.”

  “What’s with the escort?” the captain asked, eyeing the lean bodyguards.

  “Merely a formality,” Roshana explained. “It isss more about ssstature than it isss about necccesssity.”

  “I see. Are you sure you will be able to get us back to the Semayon in time for our Council hearing?”

  “Not to worry. We ssshall have you back with ample time to ssspare,” Roshana assured him.

  Mitchell turned to the team, gauging their reaction, but was met only with blank stares. Sensing the Terrans’ uneasiness, Roshana dismissed his bodyguards, sending them back through the door they’d arrived through, before turning to the business at hand.

  “Are you clear on the misssion parametersss?”

  “Shoot the bad guys, free the captives?” Captain Mitchell replied without missing a beat, fixing Roshana with a dead-eyed stare.

 
“Your aptitude for sssimplicity isss refressshing,” the Sheshen acknowledged. “We will begin by carrying you to the dessstination, a sssystem on the border of the Hrūll and Sssheshen territories. Onccce there, we will part waysss. If the outpost’s sssensors pick up readings of a Sssheshen ssship in their vicccinity, the misssion will be over rather quickly.”

  “Gotcha,” Mitchell concurred.

  “Gotcha?” Roshana questioned.

  “It means ‘understood’,” the captain explained.

  “I underssstand. You will then approach the ssstation on your own,” Roshana continued. “When the outpost attemptsss to contact you, you must explain to them that due to mechanical failure, your ssship was dropped out of ssslipstream en route from Natallusss to Voluna. You must persssuade them to let you dock while you attempt to make repairsss.”

  “What’s Natallus?”

  “It isss one of the main cultural hubsss of the Etherium,” Roshana replied.

  “Won’t that be suspicious?” Reid called out. “Our ship doesn’t have a… slipstream engine or whatever you call it.”

  “You needn’t worry about that,” Roshana reassured them. “Given your resssemblance to the Gaiansss, a most trusted ssspecies, they are sssure to allow you to dock without cause for alarm.”

  “And then what? We just open fire?” Marcus pressed, realizing all was not as it had seemed. Was their resemblance to the Gaians the only reason why Shikari had approached them?

  “Where will you be while all this is taking place?” Serena demanded before Roshana had a chance to reply to Marcus’ question, seeds of doubt growing in her mind.

  “We will hide the freighter behind an iccce planet at the edge of the sssystem,” Roshana told her. “When we have confirmation that the misssion has been sssuccesssful, we will return to escort you to Nos Ssshana.”

  “What if something goes wrong?” Taz muttered from the back of the group.

  “It won’t,” Roshana proclaimed. “I have complete faith in your capabilitiesss.”

  “Would it be possible to get a copy of your language files?” asked Serena. “I’d be interested in studying your language while we travel.”

  “Why, of course,” Roshana declared. “Although I doubt your sssystemsss will be capable of reading them. If you wisssh, I could lend you one of our datapadsss for the duration of the journey.”

  “That would be great!” Serena smiled, pleased that she would be able to make good use of her time.

  “Of course, the sssilver tongue is a difficult language to massster, essspecially itsss verbal aspectsss. Ssshould you ssso desssire, I could instruct you persssonally.”

  Serena looked apprehensively at her crewmates for a moment before giving her reply.

  “That would be most appreciated,” she stated firmly.

  “I would also be honored to give you some insightsss into our culture,” Roshana added.

  “Well, I guess we have a few days to kill, so we might as well make the most of it,” Captain Mitchell agreed before concluding the briefing and bidding farewell to Roshana.

  * * * * *

  “I just don’t like the idea of her being alone with him!” Marcus bellowed.

  He had stormed into the captain’s office to vent his frustration, in the hope that Mitchell would see things his way. Roshana had sent one of his guards to invite Serena to a private audience in his study, and despite her unease around the Sheshen crew, she had been positively giddy at the opportunity.

  “Get the stick out of your ass, Grey!” Mitchell yelled right back. “Serena knows how to take care of herself. Besides, I hardly think Roshana would have gone through this much trouble just to fuck with us.”

  Marcus knew the point to be valid, but something still didn’t seem right to him. Perhaps he had just grown attached to the young linguist. After all, of the crew she was the one he’d spent the most time with since they’d left the Terran system. Maybe he was just allowing his feelings to get the best of him.

  “At least send someone with her,” he begged, leaning against the captain’s desk as he tried to convince his superior.

  “No Marcus,” Captain Mitchell snapped, pausing briefly to swallow a pair of painkillers. “Stop being so damned paranoid!”

  * * * * *

  Serena had been pleasantly surprised by Roshana’s study. Having been escorted through the dark, foreboding corridors of the freighter, she had been expecting a cold, even sinister, décor, but to her surprise the warmly-lit chamber was extravagantly adorned with crimson rugs and exotic pieces of artwork. Everywhere she looked, paintings depicted alien landscapes and statuettes showed alien figures of various races, some of whom were regal in their pose and demeanor, while others displayed slender figures in erotic poses. A spread of colorful appetizers lay on a gilded platter on top of a small glass table with ornate metallic legs. Roshana himself lounged on a comfortable-looking couch covered in a wine-colored velvety cloth in the centre of the smallish compartment, his arm slung over the edge, fingers swaying in harmony with the sultry music being projected throughout the chamber.

  The silent guard who had escorted Serena through the ship’s corridors closed the door behind him, leaving her standing awkwardly in anticipation of Roshana’s greetings, clutching the datapad he’d sent to her.

  “Ah, I sssee you reccceived my gift,” Roshana hissed pleasantly, levering himself up to sit on the edge of the couch. “Pleassse take a ssseat. I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of having sssome food prepared. It is perfectly sssafe. I had each of the ingredientsss checked againssst the databassse to make sssure it would pose you no harm.”

  Timidly, Serena stepped closer, taking a seat at the other end of the couch.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble. We have plenty of food on the Tengri.”

  Although her statement was technically correct, the quality and variety of the Tengri’s food in storage left a good deal to be desired. Having survived on the same bland food being prepared by their temperamental cook for several months now, Serena was more than a little excited to have the chance to try some more exotic cuisine.

  “Have you been… ssstudying?” Roshana asked, leaning forward to slide the gilded tray closer to her.

  “I have,” Serena replied. “I think I’ve been able to grasp the basic grammar and memorize some of the simpler words. You know, it’s fascinating, the older a language is, the less complicated the grammar becomes. I suppose it’s only natural that things tend to get simpler over time.”

  She leaned over to take a square of orange, spongy-looking piece of food and pop it into her mouth. To her disgust, it tasted like a mixture of meat and vanilla with a fleshy, grainy texture that seemed to linger on the roof of her mouth.

  “Sssuch is true not only with language,” Roshana pointed out, inching closer to her.

  Instinctively, Serena tried to move to keep the distance between them, but as she was already close to the edge of the couch, she had little room left to maneuver.

  “So, shall we begin?” Serena chirped brightly, hoping to steer her host’s attention to the matter at hand.

  “Of courssse,” Roshana agreed. “I sssee you are very determined. I enjoy that in a woman.”

  Serena was thoroughly unnerved. If he’d been human, she would have been sure that Roshana was making advances to her, but charming as he was, he was an alien. She wasn’t one to take romance lightly, so the weird images her mind threw up of engaging in… such acts… with this slender being revolted and horrified her, especially given the depraved acts she’d glimpsed in Xhalpithia.

  She decided to ignore the issue, telling herself it was probably just some cultural misunderstanding, instead hefting her datapad and beginning to sift through the Sheshen language files. As she prepared to pronounce one of the phrases she’d been practicing, Roshana startled her by placing his slender hand firmly on her thigh.

  His mere touch sent shivers running down her spine, not of exciteme
nt, but of repulsion. She began to try removing his hand, but found that her host merely tightened his grasp.

  “I… I think you may have gotten the wrong idea!” She stuttered, looking up into the eye holes of his blank mask.

  “Not at all,” Roshana protested smoothly. “I invited you here to teach you about Sssheshen customsss. What better way than to ssshow you our waysss of intimacy?”

  Serena’s body quivered with fear and uncertainty, her mind racing. She needed to make it clear to Roshana that what he was suggesting was not only obscene but also highly inappropriate, but she was scared that if she worded it poorly her refusal might come across as an insult.

  “Can we perhaps… start with something more… practical?” She finally blabbered, at a complete loss.

  “To the Sheshen people, there isss nothing more important than the pursssuit of beauty and pleassssure,” Roshana told her. “That isss why we sssurround ourssselvesss with sssuch sssplendor. When I sssaw you, I knew immediately that I had to have you.”

  Serena’s mind roiled with disgust.

  “I… I don’t think this is really…,” she stammered, still attempting to remove Roshana’s firm grip from her thigh.

  The aggressive Sheshen leaned towards her, placing a finger from his free hand across her lips to shush her. She clamped her eyes shut, leaning back in terror, hoping that this was all just a bad dream. Roshana let go of her leg momentarily to remove his mask, moving in, clearly intending to steal a kiss from his terrified visitor. Serena didn’t want to open her eyes. She heard the brief hiss of equalizing pressure as Roshana’s armored mask began to open. Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to look upon Roshana’s naked visage.

  She let loose a horrified scream before pushing the Sheshen aside and fleeing the study as fast as her legs would carry her.