Sister Resister

by Kelli Jae Baeli

  “Doesn’t it—you?”

  Shrtz shook her gelatinous head. Surprisingly, it didn’t wobble.

  There were more important things for me to focus on, rather than naked cephs. “We should bridge a go...” “I seem to be having a speaking...trouble...trouble speaking...is it the leftover pod juice? I mean air?”

  Her tentacles stroked the air. “No, it is my pheromones.”

  “Your feral-what?” I’d never heard that word before.

  “My pheromones. They are airborne chemicals I emit. They are quite strong. You have them, too...” She leaned forward and sniffed. “Although not as strong. But yes, whole humans often have difficulty speaking in close proximity to me.”

  I took a few steps back. “Then keep your distance. That’s weirding me out.”

  “Very well.” Shrtz stepped backwards a few paces.

  “Thank you...now...I’ve already searched the ship, and can’t find any sign of the guards...”

  “I believe these transports only employ one guard—the pilot. All else is automated for the journey.”

  “Okay...well, I guess he got sucked out with the other pods. Let’s get to the Bridge and see if we can figure out how to drive this thing. Maybe we’ll find you something to wear on the way.”

  “As you wish.”

  Shrtz followed me down the corridor toward the front of the ship, but just as I kept an eye out for the pilot, I also kept an eye on her, just in case she was faking the nice-nice.

  2

  At a sharp bend in the next corridor, I stopped to check the signage to see which way the Bridge was, and Shrtz bumped against me, her suction cup nipples attaching to me. “Suck off, Shrtz!”

  “My apologies.” With a pop, she removed the cups from the skin of my arm.

  “You really feed to nine...shite! Need to find some clothes. I can’t deal with that.”

  “I’ll be more careful.”

  “Clotus out on—Pillory!” I cursed, still stumbling over my words. “Just stand there over!”

  Shrtz shuffled back.

  “You’ll put on clothes,” I insisted. “And you will stand away from me.”

  Tentacles lifted in a gesture of confusion. “What is this obsession with clothes that whole humans have?”

  “It’s just the way things are, that’s all. I don’t want those...those cups sticking to me.”

  “Many have discovered them quite pleasant...but very well. I shall find clothing.”

  I held the Merkel tight and glanced back at Shrtz, who waved a friendly tentacle at me and smiled.

  This was going to be a pain. I was alone on a ship, adrift in the cosmos with a half-human, half-octopus who fuckered up my speech with feralmoans, or whatever.

  A few paces later, Shrtz said, “Ah, here we are...” and veered into one of three crew cabins to rummage through the wardrobe cabinet.

  I went back to stand in the doorway watching Shrtz look for shirts. It wasn’t going to work, unless she found some kind of smock, open on the sides. A drapery, more like.

  A sudden impact sent me sprawling into the room, the Merkel spinning out of my hands.

  The guard stood in the doorway. “Forkering samegenders!” he spat, stomping closer to me. He shoved the volter stick into my side, and the electrical current paralyzed me. Aside from the pain, all I could think about was how much I wanted to maintain control of my bladder. I’d seen other prisoners get volted, but hadn’t had the pleasure myself. Fully half of them pissed themselves, and since moisture is a great conductor of electricity, it only makes things worse. Still, it was like being struck by Pangean lightning, but not near as pleasant.

  I drooped painfully, as if boneless, to the ground.

  He hovered over me with a snarl, as I tried to regain control of my muscles.

  In a swift second, the peaceful species was there beside me, tentacles lifting the guard off his feet, slamming him against the wall, knocking the breath out of him.

  “Are you well, Story Book?” Shrtz asked.

  I grunted. “I think so.” I struggled to my feet, borrowing the breath the guard had lost while I retrieved the Merkel.

  Shrtz continued to hold him against the wall, his feet dangling in the air, as one of her other tentacles held the volter. “What shall I do with him?”

  I studied the militiaman’s face, which now matched the color of his shirt, spittle running down his chin as he looked down on both of us with a disdain born of generations of hatred. “I have a few ideas, but I’m afraid I’m not quite that mean.” My eyes fell on the red and blue flag imprinted on his uniform. Some ancient symbol of something called the Confederacy. It was the official flag of North America. Or so they claimed.

  “I shall keep him restrained until you decide.” She let the man down, still wrapped in two tentacles, and dragged him along the floor behind her like a parcel of tatos, as she moved back to the wardrobe. “I fear they have no cephalosapien clothing on board,” Shrtz fretted.

  Apparently, I would have to get used to looking at her suction cup nipples. Maybe we could find something to press onto them. Either way, no human shirt would ever accommodate eight arms. Maybe that’s why Shrtz and her kind were so anti-clothing. They probably had a hard time finding any that fit. She still had two human-looking legs though, and I was not keen on seeing the mushy-looking skin folds over her lady parts; thankfully hidden beneath it all, somewhere. “Well at least find some pants.”

  Shrtz plucked out a pair of crew lounging breeches, pulled them on with two tentacles while still holding the guard restrained with two others.

  “Better?” Shrtz said, turning her hips side to side to show off the breeches, her free tentacles lilting about in display gestures.

  “It’ll do for now,” I told her, making a mental note to search the crew quarters for something more comfortable than my skinsuit.

  We continued our trek down the empty corridor, with the sound of the gurgling, cursing guard squeaking and bumping on the floor behind Shrtz. The ceph had saved my life. I guess peace-loving didn’t mean passive. The world could have used a few more peace-loving warriors in our history.

  Several corridors later, Shrtz said, “I say, Story Book. This looks like a suitable place for our friend.”

  It was the third room, set apart from the other two. I went back to peer in the tiny round window. It was an empty room, except for a few cabinets, a bunk and cleansing facilities. It looked like it hadn’t been occupied for a long time. Whatever it was used for, it would now be a cell. Just like the one I had been in before being herded onto this ship. Probably like Shrtz had been in, too. Well, not. The cell I was in came with a generous helping of grime, along with a few fleekers and dolobarts. Lower life forms. One slimy, and the other with razor-sharp teeth, and both smelling like the underside of a smeginator. At night, the varmints often seemed chilled, and sought warmth against me. I’d wake in terror, and punch them to the other side of the cell.

  “Abomination!” our captive growled, spitting in my direction.

  I looked at the P-Murt, suddenly deciding that he should be punished merely for being a militiaman. I grabbed at the volter in one of her tentacles, and Shrtz lifted it out of my reach. She shook her head at me.

  But now, the prisoners were the guards.

  “Can you lock him in there?”

  In answer, Shrtz tossed the guard inside and hit the button on the panel. Pressed a few more buttons with her tentacles. “That should suffice for now. It can only be opened from the outside.”

  “Awesauce.” I noticed the very helpful sign on the wall pointing the way to the Galley and the Bridge. “Let’s go. This way.”

  A few doors down, I slipped into the Galley and found a cabinet of food canisters. The first one I picked up said

  I wasn’t sure what a ceph ate, and when I turned, holding the food canister, I found she had continued down the corridor. I went after her, punching the button to open the doors to the small Bridge. Shrtz peered out the front clears
hield beyond the pilot seats of the craft. Standing there, I realized my next course of action was a mystery. I didn’t know thing-one about steering or operating a spaceship.

  My new ceph companion did the Shrtz-shuffle over to the side porthole window. “We have drifted to a halfway point between Pangea and Sintori-5. That planet there—” Shrtz gestured with a tentacle. “That’s Garzi.”

  I worried with the opening to the canister of food, saying, “Never been there. How do you know?”

  “Because I pay attention to the Plovis Planetcast.”

  Aside from mining, Plovis was the planet used for scientific research, and as such, Shrtz’s home, because it’s where cephalosapiens were created. From a test tube.

  Pangea, my home planet, held sway over the others, though every planetary government stationed militia on Smegunus and Sintori-5. Smegunus was the waste planet, where all the other planets dumped their refuse. It was also a place of punishment where violators could work off their minor violations, though I’d never heard of anyone returning. All things being equal, I’d rather be imprisoned on the industrial planet of Sintori-5.

  I looked back at the small planet out the window. I knew very little about it, as its colonists mostly kept to themselves. “So you’re familiar with Garzi?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “Oh...so we’re okay then. Someone will rescue us.” I got the canister open, pulled the spork from its glued position on the side of the container.

  “No one will rescue us.” Shrtz turned, her tentacles willowy in the air. “They are likely to destroy this ship as soon as they discover it is defenseless.”

  I paused with the loaded spork halfway to my mouth. “Destroy? Why?”

  “Because any disabled ship is at risk from Garzi. They will either pillage it and destroy it, or just destroy it, depending on their current mood.”

  “Maybe we can get on the comms and tell them what happened. That we’re no threat.”

  “Brilliant! And then we can spend the rest of our days meeting the carnal and carnivorous desires of the Garzi militia.”

  I crammed a sporkful of beef and beans into my mouth, chewing, but not tasting, and in fact, feeling a bit gut-sick. “Well what do we do now?”

  Tentacles folded across her chest. “Make our peace.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “You make your own peace. I’m going to find a way to fight back.”

  “With what? Your spork? I’m afraid that won’t stop a missile or trace-laser.”

  I jammed the spork into the canister, considering options. I thought of none. “Any suggestions?”

  “If we manage to escape quickly, we’ll still be drifting on the inertial trajectory, unless we are struck by space debris or an asteroid, and sent off-course. I cannot control our movements, as I have no knowledge of this ship’s navigation.”

  Fleet of foot, I was at the navcomm—the navigating and communication console. “There’s got to be some kind of defense on this thing. Help me find it.”

  “I know nothing of Pangean vessels.”

  Spinning in the pilot’s chair, I said, “So you’re just going to stand there and wait to be blown out of space?”

  “I prefer it over the alternatives.”

  My eyes tinkered with the control modules that I was afraid to actually touch, and I looked back at Shrtz. “You said alternatives. Plural. What’s the other one?”

  “If we manage to avoid destruction or capture? Starvation.”

  “Well bad fucks, Shrtz. You have that big brain. Can’t you figure out how to pilot this thing?”

  “I’m sure I could, with time. But I fear we don’t have much of that.” She blinked her slit-eyes.

  My attention toward the door, I said, “Maybe the guard knows...”

  “He does not strike me as the helpful sort.”

  I started punching buttons and Shrtz barked, “No!”

  “What?”

  “You just sent a distress call.”

  “Well good for me, then. We need someone to rescue us.”

  “The closest rescue is Garzi...”

  Giving that some thought, I realized how foolish I had been to start pressing buttons.

  I set the canister on the console. "Welcome to the city of Fuck-all. We have nothing to offer you..."

  3

  Placing my weapon in the Merkel mount on the wall, I stepped back over to examine the layout of the console. The mysterious symbols that represented all things necessary, and none of them necessarily made any sense. “The least you can do is come over here and help me find something to get us the fuck out of Smegunus.”

  “I suggest you find one that looks like hyperspace,” Shrtz said, still gazing out the window. “And hope the hyperspace shields engage automatically.”

  I scanned the console frantically. “They all look like hyperspace. Bring your tentacled ass over here and help me!”

  With a put-upon sigh, Shrtz moved to the console, her soft-fringed eyes taking it all in. “This might be it.” A tentacle tip indicated a button with gradually lengthened lines on it.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “Well what choice do we have?”

  “Not much,” Shrtz whispered, six tentacles pointing to the window while two cupped the sides of her own face. “A Garzi warship is headed this way. They’ll either fire on us, or board us.”

  “Fuckering!”

  “I believe you are the one who summoned them with a distress call.”

  “Well buckle up, buttercup. I’m going to punch the maybe-button.”

  Shrtz sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and fastened the restraint, as I followed suit.

  I’d never been in a ship using hyperspace, but I guessed there would be some kind of sensation and maybe some severe jostling. I braced myself and pressed the button.

  In a few seconds, I opened my eyes. “Stars! That was really smooth, I thought I’d feel something.”

  ”Actually, hyperspace is almost indiscernible from standard movement through space, because the ship is not really--” Shrtz flailed a tentacle to the window, and I looked out. Garzi ship moving closer. We hadn’t moved at all.

  “Shite! What good are buttons that don’t do anything?” I tapped another one that looked like hyperspace. Horrified, I saw some type of missile leaving the front of our ship, headed toward the Garzi one. The Garzi ship banked to one side, narrowly avoiding the projectile, then sent a shot of their own to blast the missile to pieces. I noticed there was no fiery explosion, just a small burst of light and then fragments drifting outward. Then I recalled. My experience with blowing things up was limited to the surface of Pangea. At that moment, an ear-accosting explosion and impact. It would have shaken us from our seats, if we hadn’t buckled in. It sent my eyes to the console. A graphic of the ship with a red pulsing dot on it. Didn’t take a genius to understand we had just been hit. I hadn’t heard it coming, of course, because there was no sound in space, either. Just the noise we could hear inside the ship as it suffered the blow. Apparently, the Garzis had taken that little missile personally.

  On the console now, I could see something that made me think another shot was headed our way. A warning light with a moving object. Then another button started blinking. I looked at Shrtz. “That one—what’s that?”

  She nodded. “Perhaps that’s hyperspace.”

  I reached for it, then hesitating, pulled my hand away. No telling what that button might do. It could be a self-destruct button for all I knew.

  Shrtz said, “Hyperspace uses a shield that will likely be destroyed after a single use. But I defer to your decision.”

  The red light was almost upon us in the schematic. Since neither of us knew how to avoid or deflect attack, we had nothing to lose.

  I pressed my finger down hard on the blinking button and felt my whole body slam against the seat, my skin pulling tight. It felt like my sternum was kissing my spine goodbye. I was being crushed. Had I pushed a compression
button?

  4

  After what seemed like a week or two, it was over. We both regained the use of our lungs and I looked out into the void, through the clearshield in front of us. I moved to get up, and felt the belt still restricting me. Unfastening, I got up onto wobbly legs to check the porthole window. No Garzi ship. I released a heavy sigh of relief, returning to the pilot’s seat.

  Shrtz punched a button and we drifted sideways a bit.

  “Oh, now you know what the buttons do?”

  “Some of them make more sense than others.”

  Through the clearshield in front of us, floated a planet. In the distance. But it was a different planet. A completely different color. Garzi was dark. This one was blue.

  Shrtz toyed with the console, several tentacles at a time. After a bubbly bling sound, a diagram appeared on the clearshield. Now we could see a whole bunch of data much more easily. Even though I still didn’t know what it all meant. “It seems the hypershield is no longer operational. We won’t be able to use it again.”

  “I thought you didn’t know anything about Pangean ships?”

  “I’ve been studying the panel more closely. Also, a few of the controls appear to be similar to the ships on Plovis.”

  I pointed at the diagram. “What’s that?”

  “I believe it is a galactic map, and we are at this point, here.” A tentacle stretched all the way to the clearshield to indicate the location where a yellow light blinked.

  I looked at the pulsing dot on the screen. “Where in the nebs are we?”

  “Doesn’t all this look familiar to you, Story Book?”

  I leaned closer to study it. Planets. Orbiting a bright star. It looked like every other galaxy map I’d ever glanced at. “No.”

  “It should. It’s where our ancestors lived.”

  “That was two hundred years before I was born. And anyway, how do you know?”

  A tentacle tapped the side of her head. “A lifetime of self-education.”

  “Well pardon me if I don’t know about every random galaxy in the universe. I’m only familiar with my home planet of Pangea.”