another short story

the last time she was in this position, the plannet almost blew up. sure, that had nothing to do with why she was so compromised the first time 'round, but the repeating events nauseated her nonetheless.

drawing a deep breath before doing what she knew she needed to, something caught the corner of her eye. a whip of hair and strain of neck revealed a small creature, mostly green, except for the cold black of its eyes. it was so young.

she released her instinctual grasp on her dagger, replacing the clasp, and got to her knees. she attempted some reassuring sounds, speaking in a soft voice (it really didn't matter what; poor thing didn't understand language, yet). she failed miserably. space commanders, while very good at the controls of a laser cannon, were not known for their maternal instincts.

however, the amphibious child didn't seem to mind the harshness. well, she thought, he is a cold-blooded life-form. maybe they're incapable of warm hearts...? he immediately crawled into the commander's arms and started gnawing on her dog tags, the words "commander rusty starr" soon became drenched in the young zzhart's purple-pink oral slime. any other woman would've grimaced at this, but, forturnately for rusty, the instinct to carry out such an act was filed with the same instinct to be comforting to children -- which she didn't posess.

rusty got to her feet, and considered her next move. blowing the door open with an instant explosive, with a baby in her hands clearly wasn't an option. nor was army-crawling through the air ducts (why didn't they ever secure those things, anyway? movies have been made since the twentieth century, discrediting their security. central air conditioning wasn't worth escaped prisioners -- an old-fashioned box-fan should do the job for their ilk.)

no descisions could be made as to the course of action, before the doors blew open, revealing a dozen eishth soldiers (the mortal enimies of the zzhart), waving gama pistols around their charge. one placid-faced soldier of authority stepped forward from the line, yellow pupils glaring lazily into the green ones of overthrown-commander starr. "you will follow," he stated simply, as though he were delivering a pizza and still had seven to go. business as usual.

"no, i don't think so," rusty returned his casual drawl, then immediately regreated it. she could stromp into all the dangerous, suicidal situations she wanted, just so long as it harmed no one else. she had momentarily forgotten the miniature zzhart in her arms.

which, when she looked down, was no longer in her arms. the signs that it once had been gooed her jacket and matted the tips of her hair. but the baby had disappeared.

"you will follow," the delivery-eishth stated, more forcefully.

rusty was too distracted to answer. she didn't know why there was a baby zzhart in her cell, and was even more clueless as to what it meant now that he had disappeared. she just knew, somehow, she had to find him, take the ship, destroy the eishth fleet, and leave zzhart territory before they became too thankful to her.

the delivery-eishth produced a titanium-tinsel whip, and took a fair gash from commander starr's bicep. after a supressed grunt of pain, she was brought back to the here and now. "you will follow!"

she gave her escourts a hostile grin. the sting of exposed blood and muscle had brought her an idea. "lead the way."

to be conitnued....