Chapter Three Corrina
“Commander!” a voice calls from the hallway. I glance towards the doorway where a breathless soldier comes skidding to a halt. “There’s a situation. Or situations. Bad ones. You. You should come.”
I glance at the man across the office from me. He is wringing his scar-covered hands nervously. “Bring him,” I say to the soldier standing behind his chair as I stand to go find out what situation or situations might require my immediate attention.
As I enter the room, the first thing I notice is that several of my soldiers are gathered in a corner looking ill.
A few are sitting on the floor with their heads between their knees.
A handful of other soldiers are standing over them with their weapons trained on three figures so covered in blood that it is hard to tell who or what they are.
It takes me a moment to realize that the shredded lump of flesh and blood smeared across the table and the surrounding floor was probably once a living creature of some kind.
“Oh shit,” says the man I was just questioning.
He glances at the scene and turns a faint shade of green.
He staggers away from the guard, supports himself with one arm against the wall, and vomits onto the floor.
He wipes his mouth shakily, lifts his head, glances back at the blood-covered figures, and then passes out.
I am about to call out to one of the soldiers to get the poor man out of the room when one of the blood-covered figures darts forward, grabs the man, and then retreats back to the gore-splattered table.
The creature hisses angrily and lets loose a string of incomprehensible sounds.
“Commander?” my sergeant calls. “Those three who just grabbed that guy also just made confetti out of one of the other prisoners. Do you authorize the use of force?”
“Wait,” I answer, taking a moment to study the scene in front of me as objectively as possible.
My observational and analytical skills are what helped me earn this command, but my ability to manage challenging situations have helped me become one of the best at what I do.
It is hard to make out the figures under the blood and bits of flesh and organs, but they are not a species that I immediately recognize.
There are, however, three things that I can recognize.
The first is that these figures are more skin and bone than flesh and muscle.
I know of no humanoid species – and they do appear somewhat humanoid – with bones as prominent as theirs when healthy.
Second, their hands and feet are chained with something far stronger and bulkier than standard IPC-issue restraints like the ones we use, which means these creatures were likely captives of the illegal poaching crew we just raided.
And third, despite the apparent violence with which they attacked whatever poor creature’s remains they are crouched in, the one holding the man I was about to question is doing so gently – supporting the man’s head and cradling his body to its own.
Furthermore, the one cradling the man has clearly put the other two figures between us and it.
In my mind, all of this adds up an isolated, and perhaps justified (at least to them), act of violence and not necessarily the actions of creatures of a broadly violent nature.
“Commander?” my sergeant says again.
“Let’s clear the room,” I reply.
“Ma’am?”
“Clear the room, Sergeant Curran. I appreciate the restraint that our soldiers have shown thus far, but I want every one of our people out of here except for you and me.”
The fact that he doesn’t question my order for a second is one of the many reasons Curran is my second-in-command.
“Clear the room,” he bellows, and soldiers move to obey.
A few of them are shaky as they stand and a few require the assistance of their fellow soldiers but in moments the room is clear.
Curran stands to my right, his weapon holstered with his hand resting on it casually. “Now what?” he mutters to me.
“Gimme a minute,” I reply quietly. The figures and I stare at each other for a long moment. I get the feeling that I am being studied just as intently as I am studying them. “I want a medical assessment team down here as soon as possible,” I state. “And bring something to eat and drink.”
“Anything in particular you’re in the mood for?” Curran asks sarcastically.
“Bring me an assortment of foods. Stuff I can eat that might also be palatable for the three of them.”
“Check. Anything else?”
“Bring me Captain Lianov. I’ll be interested in what information our favorite neighborhood poacher might have on these three.”
Curran pauses. He steps into the hallway and confers quickly with one of the soldiers. He is frowning when he steps back beside me. “That last request is going to be a problem. Captain Lianov is no longer available.”
“What the fuck do you mean ‘no longer available’?” I hiss, turning to glare at Curran.
“I was told we had secured his capture. That was the main reason we’ve monitored this vessel for weeks and struck when we did – to finally get a hold of the slippery bastard when he’d taken on a recent shipment and was out of reach of his usual money and connections.
Don’t tell me he’s already slimed his way out of this. ”
“We had secured his safe capture, and we made sure he was not able to contact anyone off ship. Unfortunately, our new friends were less concerned about the captain’s safety than you were.”
I blink at my sergeant for a moment, uncomprehending. Then I glance towards the gore splattered around the trio of unknown creatures. “Please tell me you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying.”
“Sorry, Commander. Those three are standing in what is left of the late Captain Lianov.”
“Shit.” I mutter.
“Anything else you want then?” Curran asks evenly.
I sigh. “Get me some food and the med team. And put the Fixer team to work on the vessel’s systems. I need information and proof of activities, and I’m going to need it yesterday.”
“Check.” Curran steps back towards the door and barks out orders.
As I wait, I deliberately move towards one of the tables on the near side of the room, making sure all three of the unknown creatures can track what I’m doing.
I peel off my uniform jacket slowly and place it on a relatively blood free chair.
Then I remove my helmet and set it on the table before sitting on the table and resting my feet on a nearby bench.
Then I drop my face into my hands and stare at the aliens who just dispatched what would have been my highest profile arrest and capture ever.