Retrieval

Retrieval
By Laura Alton

“Describe her.”
“What? Describe who?” Craig looked across the small table at Kemo Lilanie second engineer of the Intergalactic Patrol ship, Hearon. They were both spending a little off duty time at the Two Kegs, a well know Patrol hang out at Star Base 34. It was similar to hundreds of seedy bars across the galaxy. Red vinyl barstools lined the fake wood bar across one side of the room. Matching, overstuffed booths lined the other wall, with a scattering of tables filling in the space between them. Three or four of the tables were occupied, and two of the booths.

There was a double door at the far end of the bar; even without the small sign above the door, Craig would have known it was the kitchen by the smell. His nose wrinkled and looked away. The place smelled like old grease, vomit, and beer. Funny how the ventilation system could never flush those smells out.

“The female Specialist you have been prattling on about for the last hour.” With his dusky skin tone, long straight dark hair, worn loose while he was off duty, and dark eyes Kemo had no trouble proving his claim as one of Hawaii’s last pure native sons. He pulled an imaging pencil out from behind his ear, licking the tip he flipped an equally invisible notebook. “As a roving reporter of the Far Star, news, dot com. Exactly what does this vision of loveliness look like, Lieutenant Pierce?”

Lieutenant Craig Pierce, head of security on the same ship, sat back in the overstuffed booth pursed his lips and took a sip of the amber colored liquid in his glass. Leaning forward he lock his light blue eyes on those of his drinking partner.

“Come on, you know who I am talking about.” All that got him was a raised eyebrow and a second lick at the tip of the imagery pencil. He knew Kemo well enough to know the Hawaiian would badger him till he played his little game, just one of the many annoying little traits he had put up with for the last four years they had served together. With his light hair and fair skin they contrasted each other, many on the ship nicknamed them dark and light.

“Well Sir, lets start with her full name shall we?” Kemo prompted.

“As you very well know her name is Shanena Levinee, she has light brown hair worn long, sort of fluffs around her face, with a blond streak that starts between her eyes and runs down her back. Her favorite color is green, light green sort of lime color. The Captain just placed her in charge of the Botany Lab. With dual degrees in botany and holistically plant medicine she is up to the challenge. I just finished her security clearance, background check, and personal interview. Her eyes are light hazel with flecks of gold in them, if you look deep enough. Everyone I talked to had only good things to say about her, and you know how rare that is on a ship the size of Hearon.”

Kemo looked up interrupting his imaginary scribbling pencil poised he cocked his head to the right he prompted. “Any thing else?”

Shaking his head in disbelief Craig continued. “She likes flute music, is very allergic to milk, and she has a great smile.”

“Is that all?” continued Kemo. Craig sat back and took another sip of his drink shrugging. His friend staring at him expectedly.

“Yeah, that’s all.”

Kemo tossed both imagery pencil and notebook into the air, crossed his arms on the table and lowered his shaking head.. “Ahhh, I will schedule your appointment with the Phys Doc first thing in the morning.”

“What are you talking about?” Craig’s now empty glass struck the plastic table with a thud. “You’re the one who needs the Phys Doc appointment.”

“Do I my friend? Let’s see.” Kemo pulled out his indivisible notebook again flipping through it he cleared his throat. “Light brown hair, Hazel eyes, great smile, likes the color green for Paulo’s sake.” He lowered his “notebook” and stared intently across the table. “What about the ½ inch fur all over her body? Retractable claws on her hands, nonretractable talons on her feet? Her.” He consulted his “notes” “Great smile comes equipped with two inch fangs!”

“Cut it out Kemo, she’s Cavion.”

“It don’t seem like it to you.” The Hawaiian finished his own drink as the autoserver placed refills in front of them. “Face it Craig, you’re not “seeing” her clearly, just like that Bitack girl two years ago.”

“This is nothing like that.” The lieutenant changed the subject. “Do you think ‘they’ will ask about that.”

Kemo knew there was only one ‘they’ he would be referring to. “Relax Craig, the promotion board’s not for another month.”

“Twenty eight days, and I still haven’t come up with anything. I can’t figure out what to put down for achievements. How am I supposed to shine as a security officer on a science ship? Kemo pulled back his engineers pride flashed in his dark eyes.

“The Heron is a good ship.”

“Too good, I have nothing to do, I should have transferred to the Webstorm last year.”

“So you are not being promoted as fast as your brother, you’re also not in the middle of a war like he is either.” Craig downed the rest of his drink in one swallowed.

“I’m starved, lets go find some place with decent food.”

What’s wrong with here?” Kimo pulled the menu out of its slot on the tabletop.

“This place smells like vomit.” He rose and walked toward the door. The Hawaiian finished his beverage and followed him out, grumbling under his breath about sensitive noses.


Craig managed to postpone any more discussion about a certain Specialist till, on the gangway entering the docking shuttle, they ran into the object of his current obsession. Partly to annoy the Engineer and mostly, he admitted to himself privately, because he wanted to. He jockeyed for a position in the boarding line that carried the three of them onto the same section of the shuttle bus. After that it was easy to snag the seat across from her, leaving the couch on his left for his surfing buddy.

He refused to meet the Hawaiians eyes as they prepared themselves for disembarking. Besides, his eyes were on Shanena. Her lips were tightly compressed over her teeth, eyes narrowed to slits, her hands were curled and held stiffly at her side. She had barely nodded in response to his greeting, all signs, if he remembered correctly from his reading that indicated stress or controlled anger.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as the shuttle smoothly pulled away from the station. She looked up at him, then quickly lowered her eyes to his chin. Direct eye contact was concerned a challenge in her culture. Then the tone of her answered took him by surprise; he had never heard her raise her voice before.

“That, gray furred chocked toed Reddy.” Craig leaned over and looked around quickly to make sure no one was within hearing range.

“You mean Admiral Peter B. Reddy? What did he do?”

“He is trying to block me from taking the leave that Captain Feliciano approved two a months ago.” He sat back as she answered the unasked question that was in his mind. Speaking in a calmer tone of voice. “Reddy said there were some “concerns” over what happen last time I took leave on my home planet.” Craig surpassed a smile he knew all about the admiral’s “concerns” They were very similar to the same one’s he had voiced to the security board before granting her clearance when she applied to come aboard the Hearon.

“What kind of concerns?” asked Kemo.

Crag got a glimpse of her brown-gold eyes as she turned to answer his companion’s question. He wished she would look up at him more. The color of her eyes was like dark honey, and shined with reflective light when she was calm, or flashed daggers when she was angry as they did now.

“Last time I took leave on Cavion, one of my cheanmates left a going away presents in my duffel bag. It was a pouch of medicated herbs designed to help Lonnea, clan separation. Unfortunately it also contained Aspearhip, the security arch detected it, of course, and then a small amount of it was detected in my blood stream when I returned to the Ragen.”

Craig watched as Kemo's eyes widen, Aspearhip, a plant native to the Cavion system acted as a stimulate to the human nervous system. It produced a prolonged surge of intense pleasure, disorientation, and heighten sexual response. It was also very addicting and deadly in large amounts, so of course it was illegal in any IGP sector. He also knew that Shanena’s career almost ended right there. It took her over a month to convince IGP security that she was not smuggling, and had not know about the “present.” Explaining the residue in her own blood sample was easier, the herb did not effect cavions in the same way as it did humans and was widely used on her planet as a mild depressive. It did end her assignment on the Ragen, and got her demoted and transferred to the Hearon, an out sector research ship. Also, it took her away from her home planet, the Hearon rarely come within shuttle range of Cavion.

“I tried to explain to them that it would not happen again, but Reddy is so drug paranoid, he didn’t seam to hear my explanation.”

“Captain Feliciano already approved your leave, what business of Reddy is it?” Asked Kemo.

Craig watched as Shanena leaned forward, her right lip raised slightly, before she pressed them both tightly against her teeth, her hands once again curling at her side. “He is in charge of policing this sector and if he thinks I am a security risk he could restrict my movement.”

A flicker of alarm played across Craig’s face as he turned to his left. “God, Kimo do you think Redding will be on my performance review board?”
The engineer ignored him, his eyes seeking Shannas. “Do you think he will be able to cancel your leave?” She tossed her head to the right freeing a few blond-white hairs from the strict line bisecting her forehead. When she smoothed them back with one hand Craig noticed the tips of her claws were showing.

“The shuttle leaves tomorrow, if you see me at dinner you know he succeed.”

Craig looked for her early the next evening, then checked the shuttle logs, she had caught the intersystem at 1200 hours and was on her way home. She was scheduled off for two weeks. He already missed her.


Four nights later he was sound asleep after another uneventful boring day when loud beeping woke him. Rolling over he stabbed at the communication panel next to his bed. “Pierce here.”

“Crewman Laughton sir, the caption has requested your presence in the conference room in 10 minuets.” Craig was wide awake now, Captain Felicianco was not know for calling impromptu staff meeting. In fact the last one he could remember had been almost a year ago, when the Jroften had declared war.

“Laughton, what’s going on?”

“Sorry sir, the caption just requested that I inform all section leaders of the briefing.” Craig acknowledged the summons and clicked off the com unit. A hundred questions ran through his mind as he changed into a clean uniform and bolted for the door. Prominent in his thoughts was the fact that if he were late, he would not get a seat. He wanted to hear what ever the captain had to say sitting down.

He was glad he had rushed when he saw how many section chiefs and Specializes had been summoned. After claimed one of the last two remaining chairs he looked around to see if there was anyone there who might be able to cue him in on what this meeting was all about. All he saw were the eyes of the other chiefs doing the same thing. He settled back into his chair to wait, and watched the faces of the newcomer’s fall when they realized that all the chairs in the small briefing room were taken. Kemo was not here yet, if fact there was only one representative from engineering. The majority present were from the science and medical sections, he was the only one from security and there were no one from weapons. At least it wasn’t another war, he thought then strengthen in his chair as the captain and chef medical officer entered from the side door.

“Thank you all for coming, I will get right to the point. IGP command has received a transmission from the Harrison sector. The entire sector is under a class four medical quarantine.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “Several colonies in the Yero system have contracted some type of infectious bug.” He waved his hand to his left, where an older white hared distinguished looking man stood. “Doctor Shiftman heads a medical team that has developed a vaccine against it, I will let him explain the medical side in a minute. “We will be rendezvous with the Illinois in 46 hours to pick up a supply of the drug and transport it to the Yero system. The Heron has been picked for this because of her capable medical staff and excellent speed records. I know that every one of you will give your utmost attention to this mission. Doctor Shiftman.” Captain Felicianco stepped aside seating himself at one end of nearest rows of chairs, making room for the medical specializes at the small podium.

Craig sat back, only part of his attention on what the Doctor was saying. Most of mind was focused on how this was going to effect his small security force. It did not sound like he would have much to do.

He heard the Doc say something about fragile matrix and environmental cubes, now those would have to be guarded. He mentally pictured the schedule board, rearranging leave and bonus time, if he pulled Phery from the Carub project. His attention was abrupt pulled back to the briefing room when Captain Felicianco suddenly stood and raised one hand clinching a bit of paper, gaining the doctors and everyone’s attention.

“We may have to go without our chief botany’s.”

Doctor Shiftman shook his head firmly. “Picillia has never been successfully transported through space, I need those environmental cubes to keep the vaccine stable. Those cubes are based on your specialties design. We need her to program them properly.”

“She is on Cavian, and is not responding to her commutation signal.” The Doctor looked exhausted.

“Then send someone to get her.”

Craig was on his feet speaking before the rational side of his brain could stop him. “I’ll go sir.”

Crag sat brooding as the midsize atmospheric craft flew over the dark purple-blue sea. The smallish ship bucked as it approached a large landmass that apparently was their destination. He leaned back in his chair lacing his hands behind his head stared out the window at the unfamiliar vegetation. If he had been allowed to pilot his own shuttle he would have been there by now. But, only licensed hunting craft were allowed in the primitive zone. That was but one of many primitive zone rules and regulations, he had to sign off of to gain permission to enter this resort area that apparently. Shanena had chosen to spend her leave in. Alarm bells suddenly went off pulling Craig’s attention back to the ship he was ridding in.

The short red-haired pilot, what was his name? Flipped a few switches and the noise subsided.

“We are about to enter the primitive zone, Lieutenant. This is your last chance to change your mind. Are you sure you want to go?” The middle aged man took one look at Craig’s face and turning the airship into a long banking turn towards the setting sun. “I am surprised they granted you permission to land. Few humans are allowed out of Port City.”

Craig returned his attention to the scenery, it had only taken him 5 hours at top speed to get to Cavion from the Hearon’s position, but it had taken twice that long to wade through the paper work to get him this far. The local Patrol representative and the Human console were not much help. They both told him it was suicidal to interrupt a hunting chean. The Cavion council reluctantly granted him permission, once he explained the situation, but he had to leave his weapons and communicator behind. Then sign twenty different documents, all resolving the Cavion government, Human counsel, IGP, and probably God of any responsibility for his welfare, once he crossed into the Zone. Then they stuck him with this middle aged, clown of a pilot, who slowed him down even more. Tim, that was the pilot’s name Crag turned speaking directly to him for the first time.

“Tim, your human, why aren’t you restricted to Port City?”

“I’m a member of a chean.”

“Chean, that’s the cavion family unit right, I didn’t know they admitted humans.”

Tim grinned showing a mouthful of strong white teeth. “Sort of a family unit, there are six human mixed cheans registered, and fourteen going through there trial period.”

“Trail period?”

“Cavions take their personal relationships very seriously. All cheans go through a minimum two-year adjustment and tests before naming. You see, once named it is very hard, dame near impossible to break up a chean. I have been a Runnun for eight years now.”

Craig changed the subject, he was not in the mood for a lecture on Cavion family values. Finding the Botany officer was and getting off this rock was the main thing on his mind.

“Where are we going?” Maps were another thing the restricted list of the cavion council.

“Section 18.”

“What exactly is Section 18, and how long till we get there?”

"We are approaching it now, it’s the territory that the ShaTana’s took permits out in.”

“Permits? Permits for what?”

“Hunting, what else do you do in the primitive zone. Knowing the ShaTanas reputation they are probably after the hiyueer. That’s a large wolf type animal, very dangerous.”

Craig who had been raised on a space station and had never seen a real wolf ignored the description of the animal. “The ShaTanas, is that the group Shanena is hunting with?”

“Tell me your kidding. Tim looked over at him alarm playing across his face. “ShaTana is her chean, don’t you know them?”

“Never met them, does it make any difference?”

Tim did something to the controls of his ship, setting the craft to hover as he unbuckled his restraints, turned and faced his passenger. “The council said you knew them.”

"I lied” Crag shrugged. “But I know Shanena.”

“You have never met her cheanmates?” When Craig shook his head, Tim turned back to flying the craft and refastened his harness as he muttered half to himself. “They will kill you, and then me for bring you.”

“Lieutenant. Levinee is an IGP officer, I understand now that she is not allowed to take her con unit with her on this, “hunt thing” she is participating in. But, she is an officer and I assure you she will not harm you or me.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see what shape she is in and how much control she has over her cheanmates. Look there probably camped out near the lake, it’s the only fresh water for miles. That’s where the main game trail is.”

Turning the craft to the left Tim brought them in close to a small body of water flanked by low hills covered with intermixed tangles of tall bushes and low vine type growth. After circling the lake twice the red-haired pilot expertly brought the ship down in a small valley screened on all sides by hills and large boulders.

Craig unsnapped his safety restraints, as soon as the engines low hum stopped and pushed open the door impatient to find the botany specialist and get back to his ship.

The smell, god this place stinks! Rotten lettuces, that was the closest comparison he could come up with. It must be all this green stuff, Crag thought as he walked over at Tim who had exited on his side of the vehicle.

“Does it always smell like this?” he asked.

“No, the Puhie flowers are in bloom.” Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Isn’t it great, the air is always so much sweeter away form the city.” Craig looked at him mouth dropped.

“Sweeter?” Not trusting himself to say more, he turned towards the hill nearest the lake and started up it. Scattered up the gentle slope were dark green vine growths dotted with purple flowers as he stepped on one clump of growth he realized, too late that these were the source of the incurable smell. Rotten janis eggs, vitasort sprouts, no, it was closer to rotting lettuces. He amused him self trying to match the smell to something in his experience as he wound his way to the top, being carefully not to step on anything green.

He shaded his eyes blocking out some of the setting suns glare, he scanned out across the small lake. He noted the locating of several herds of bipeds, who apparently used the lake for a water source, he saw no sign of any structures or even a tent. Turning he waiting for Tim to pull him self up the last few feet of the slope behind him. The man scrambled to the top and bend over breathing hard. His face did look a little flustered.

“I don’t see any sign of them. Are you sure we are in the right spot?”

Still bent over Tim tiled his head up to meet Craig’s eyes. “What did you expect to see? A row of canvases tents, roaring campfire, scantly clad native guides, maybe a elephant or two?” Tim directed his attention to the small lake and the flat land beyond it. “They were drop off four days ago on the plains.” He nodded with his chin his hands busy pulling a pair of viewers out of the utility bag he was carrying over one shoulder. “This is the only sure water for three days travel. Their here, somewhere.” He brought the viewer up to his eyes and started a systematic scanning of the lakeshore.

Craig resumed his own search, paying closer attention to the four and six legged animals that were approaching the water to drink. He counted six different types, from a large blue-gray slow moving six legged monster to a small rabbit like four legged, brown greenish animal that keep popping in and out of holes in the ground. There seemed to be a lot of four footed medium sized horned creatures milling around, they had large eyes, tall thin ears, and quick movement. They darted to the waters edge in small groups drank quickly, then returned back to the main herd body, as another group of four or five left to drink. He was just admitting to himself that they were kind of cute when Tim pointed.

“There.” He handed the viewer to Craig and with one hand on his shoulder he directed the younger man glaze.

“Sight along that ridge there, no not that one the one with terickn trees on it. Now come about half way down that low hill there, not too far, just to where the bushes start to thin out at the lake’s edge.”

Craig followed the directions till he was pretty sure he had found the clearing Tim was directing him to. Sun baked soil formed a gentle ramp from the bush covered low hill to the waters edge. A mix of dark and light green bushes encircled the open space. A few taller trees were interspersed around the rim. “Where are they?”
“Watch for movement.” Taking a deep breath Craig steadied the viewer scanning the low bushes. Tim gripped his shoulders pointing as an orange figure stepped out from behind a low broad leaf plant. It was a cavion with orange and tan-stripped fur; he/she was walking slowly into the cleared area. No, not walking limping, hobbling as if in great pains or injured. Craig lowered the viewer and turned to the human next to him.

“He’s hurt, where do you keep your medical kit?” Tim shook his head once hard and the ghost of a smile played across his lips.

“No she is faking it, acting as bait.”

Craig frowned as he brought the viewer back up and focused on the slow moving figure. She, he would have to take Tim’s word for the gender he couldn’t tell, was moving even slower, occasionally stumbling on the rock strewed ground. A swirl of wind brought not only more of the rotten lettuces flower smell, but a pain filled cry as the orange alien fell and laid still.

“Look, at the base of the hill.” Craig shifted his viewer away from the still form, to the brush-covered hill. There was something brown moving there. More then one something’s.

“Hygear, a pack of four or five.”

Craig felt his legs tense, and a stirring in his belly as the first predator stalked out of the undergrowth. It was larger then the prone figure still lying on the ground. It’s massive shoulders stood a good two meters, and its head! It looked like a walking mouth; large triangular teeth set in a small skull with small compact eyes. Eyes, that were focused on the fur covered cavion lying still in the middle of the clearing. Causally three more six-legged brown forms entered the field behind their leader.
His hand reflexively went to his side, feeling the empty spot where his weapon normally would be. Dame, the Farteaning councils restraints.

Tim’s hand closed over his stopping the motion.

“Watch”

“She can’t even see them.” Tim nodded his assent

“No, but her chean can, I am sure they are relaying the information.”

The hygear’s slowly circled the prone figurer, then the largest reached out with one large clawed paw to nudge the still form. Crag was so intent on the size of the animal's talon that he missed the jack in the box appearance of the ShaTanas chean. They faded out of the underbrush five of them weaning gray-green camouflage overalls that blend in with the surrounding vegetation.
One minuet there was only the still form and four dark shapes in the clearing, the next it was filled with nine fast moving furry shapes. The orange cavion recovered, spring to her feet to join in the slaughter. Slaughter was what it was, two at a time the cavions charge the larger predators.

It was over in seconds, four dark brown shapes lay motionless on the hard packed earth. Five, clothed shapes, stood over them, blood dripping from talon and fang. Craig barely recognized the Hearon’s new chief of botany, her normally golden fur streaked with dirt, grass and blood. He watched as she ripped a hole in the nearest hygear and withdrew something red and lumpy. Tim grasped his shoulders turned him away.

“You don’t want to see what happens next.” It was a nice thought but too late he had seen all too much. Craig allowed himself to be led half way down the incline before he resisted Tim’s grasp.

“I will go get her, you ready the ship for departure.” Tim’s grip on his arm tightened.

“You’re not going down there.”

“I can be off planet before dawn.” Craig was started by the shorter mans display of strength as he spun him around grasping both of his shoulders shaking the security chief.

“You’re not going down there. Look you know all those things you hear about cavions. You know what I mean, walking hormones, all teeth, claws and emotions. Well most of them are true. They just made a major kill, most cheans avoid hygear, they will be so highly stimulated she won’t recognize you.”

“What do you mean, Shannon’s is a IGP officer.”

“ Lieutenant Shanena may be an officer, but right now she is a cavion with her chean on a hunt. Eating certain plants and herbs is part of that, besides the intoxicating power of fresh hot blood.” He let go stepping back. “Trust me, let her have her night, the morning will be soon enough.” Craig had little choice but to reluctantly agree. They made their way back to the shuttle in silences.

Morning found Tim and Craig back on the crest of the hill viewer in hand scanning the lakeshore. A stand-alone shelter stood on the edge of the clearing set up to protect the self-continued power sled and supplies. The clearing was littered with large padded blankets apparently the chean slept outside under the stairs. Craig resisted a shutter, he spent last night safely locked in the shuttle, breathing recycled air. What was left of the hygears bodies were covered by some sort of tarp. He could see two brown striped cavions helping the orange one load the power cart. A Tan colored figure was stuffing something in a bag near the tent.

“Remember what I said last night,” whispered Tim “The two Tonkia’s are not much of a threat, they will follow the chean lead. The orange Emaan will push you, but not actually attack without the support of the others. The Cemnai should hang back and wait till the others actually attacked before committing himself.

Craig shifted his arms a little looking around the clearing for the two that Tim had said to watch. He spotted the large white one pushing through the low bushes on the far side of the clearing. His cream colored fur was damp, he tossed a package undreamed towards one of the brown Tonkia, who turned at the last minuet and snaked it in mid air.

“There, the Gomeal, he has the strongest mental link to your Specialist, and the power to back it. If she can not convince him that she truly wants to leave with you, he will kill you before letting her out of his sight. The Devanta is not in sight. Watch for him, he will attack without thinking, unless one of the others stop him. You are sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Want to go down there with me?” Tim backed away from him his face notably paling.

“Nooo, my chean would kill me if I endangered myself like that. I will be waiting at the ship.”

Waiting at the ship with the engine powered up to make a quick get away if they killed him. Crag turned his viewer back to the group in the valley, studied them for a moment longer before carefully made his way down the hill. The smell from those puhie flowers was strong, and it was starting to give him a headache. It took a good ten minuets for him to make his way down the hill and across the valley floor. He suspected they know he was coming long before he stepped into the clearing.
All five were facing his direction as he pushed past the taller trees and maneuvered around several smaller bushes that blocked his path. With out a sound they advanced. Craig slowed his confident walk suddenly, acutely aware that he was unarmed, and they were not shy about displaying their natural armament. Three of them had their claws unshielded. He spoke fast his voice didn’t tremble, too much, he thought.

“I am looking for Specialist Shanena.” A low growl greeted the mention of the Hearon officer’s name. The large, white one spoke first followed by one of the stripped ones.

“Who are you?”

“We don’t care, why you are here.”

“You are dead.” The last line was spoken by the orange Emaan as she closed the slow moving wall they had erected around him. Raising his hands trying to appear harmless, he spoke quietly making sure not to look any of them in the eye, not to challenge them in any way as Tim had told him.

“I am Lieutenant Pierce, Craig Pierce, from the Hearon.” The circling stopped with the large Gomeal directly in front of him.

“Humans are not allowed in the primitive zone unless they are part of a hunting chean.”

“This is an emergency, there is this plague and Specialist Levinee is urgently need aboard the….” The large cream male lifted one hand claws extended. He slowly, carefully raked them across Crag’s chest, leaving torn cloth dotted with blood. Crag didn’t move, know if he did it would be over in seconds. The cuts were not very deep, and stopped bleeding almost immediacy. Shocked, he looked up meeting hazel eyes as the cavion smiled showing teeth and licked the bright red drops from his fingertips.

“Before you die, her name is not Shanena. It is ShanronanSha. The meaning I doubt you limited mind could appreciate.” He punctuated his remarks with another swipe across Craig’s chest this time deeper. “You will not take her from us again!”

He could feel the blood dripping down his chest. Evening his breathing, centering himself, he balanced on the soles of his feet preparing to fight for his life. He could probable take one maybe two, but, there were five of them in mental contact forged by numerous hunts into a single fighting unit. He had little chance of winning. The slow circling started again. Craig remembering what Tim had said and shifted to keep the Gomeal in sight.

“Krannti, stop him!” It was Shanena’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him. He turned to see a blurred blackness with teeth and claws headed straight for him. The missing Devanta, come to join the party.

Sorting it all out later Craig realized that Shanena must have known he was there as soon as her chean did. It was her mental indecision that kept them from attacking him the minute he appeared. She screamed a hissing angry order as she pushed her way past the vernnnal bushes into the clearing.

It was either her verbal order or mental follow through that pushed Krannti into action he reached out to the black shape running at them. The cream one moved fast, but not quiet fast enough, one black claw reached out and snagged him as Krannti pulled the smaller cavion into a gentle bear hug. Craig looked down and saw more blood dripping from a gash in his left arm, this one was going to scar. He turned facing the IGP officer the protocol coming automatically to his lips.

“Specialist Shanena Levinee under Inter Galactic Patrol authority section 15 article 12 your leave is official canceled.” He continued trying not to stammer. He spared a glance at the looming male still facing him, holding the smaller darker alien in a light embrace. “There’s a plague. We need your environmental cube design. I was sent to get you.” She approached him pushing past the bodies of her cheanmates, to stand facing him. Her eyes went from his chest to his still bleeding arm Crag thought he saw a frown flit across her face as she turned accusingly to lock eyes with the tall cream figure standing to her right.

“I didn’t kill him.” Krannti said defensively taking a step back. “He is human, not allowed in the zone…” Craig missed the rest of the argument as the cavions drifted into the telepathic communication that was so much a part of chean life.

Abruptly, Krannti shoved the smaller darker cavion away from him, turned and stalked to the edge of the clearing, the others followed him. Not out of sight but far enough back that Craig had the illusion of privacy.

In the sudden silence he could hear the sound of his blood dripping off his hand, and hitting the ground. The stink was worse this close to the lake and his head was throbbing in time with pulse. He was not sure how much longer he could stay standing.

“How bad is the plague, Lieutenant?” He saw military discipline drop over Shanena, strengthen her posture, lifting her chin.

“Bad, the details are on the currier ship. I’m sorry Shanena but we have to go. Now.” She glanced towards her companions. He wondered if she was regretting stopping their attack. “There is a ship over that hill in a small valley, the pilot is waiting for us.” Shanena sighed and turned towards her chean, mentally communicating.

He wondered how long it was going to take her to say good bye, and how long it was going to take him to climb that hill again?

“Let’s go Krannti will bring my things.” Her chean turned away and started unpacking the power sled sorting though bundles, all but Krannti. Craig could feel him starring at his back as he slowly made his way through the thick underbrush.

The trip back to the ship was not quite as bad as he had imagined it would be. His arm stopped bleeding before he made the crest. When he hit the valley floor Tim was there with med kit in hand, spraying something foamy white on his arm and chest. It was cold, numbing, with a sharp alcohol smell and it felt great.

Tim suddenly paled and backed, edging towards the still open pilot’s door Craig turned to see the ShanTana’s approaching. Shanena walked head high flanked by her whole chean, shoulder to shoulder arms touching. She raised one hand stopping her cheanmates, approaching the ship alone. Her lips were tight eyes narrow, as she stood in front of the security chief. She gestured with one hand towards the angry red marks on his chest..

“I apologize for Krannti, and Ebony for those.”

He nodded accepting the apologize and noticing that her claws were not quite fully retracted. Quietly he asked “Are you ready to board now?”

“Ah, just a minute.” Tim came around the nose of the shuttle carrying something wrapped in brown cloth. He apprehensively eyed the five cavions standing silently, ten feet away.

“You have been chewing dena leaves and other things.” Shanena’s eyes narrowed even further as she spat an answer to his question.

“So, I was on a hunt.” Craig did not miss the emphasis on the word ‘was’.

“Well it’s just we are in a hurry, you will be sitting behind me out of my sight. You have not had time to properly separate from you chean. The winds are tricky, I must concentrate on my flying.” Tim lowered his eyes as he unwrapped the package he was holding reveling a pair of heavy leather gloves. Craig could see that there was a thin bar of some type of metal sewn on to the back of each finger, and the same metal encircled both wrists with a strong looking locking clasp on the underside of each one.

Shanena’s expression did not change, but her chean suddenly advance with low growls and unshielded claws. She raised a hand and stopped them. She could not quite keep her teeth from showing as she answered this time.

“Do you want me to wear a gag too?”

Craig was not sure what that referred to, but its effect on Tim was startling. He turned white, his hands started to shake and he turned away, carefully not to meet any of the cavions eyes. He allowed the gloves to fall from his hands.

“No, no I just thought, I mean, I would just feel safer it’s, ah just forget it.”
Craig’s first encounter with cavion’s natural armament had left their mark, in more ways then one. They need the pilot to get back to Port City the older man knew cavions a lot better then he did. If Tim thought it was necessary. He picked up the restraints and meeting Shanenas accessioning eyes handed them to the IGP officer.

“Consider it an order.” She held out her arms maintaining eye contact with him. He shrugged meeting the challenge and reached out grasping her right wrist with his left hand, prepared to slip the heavy leather covering over her fingers.

Suddenly he found him self flying backwards, landing five feet away, on a small bush. The smell made him gag, as his stomach rolled in protest, and his eyes watered. He looked up at the cream colored wall that suddenly appeared between him and the shuttle.

“Keep your hands off her, human.” Krannti growled, as he carefully cradled Sharon’s hands in his larger ones. He stared into her eyes for a moment before pulled the leather contractions over her wrists fashioning them with exaggerate care.

Craig’s shoulder wound ached and he decided it would be best to stay where he was, enjoying the fragrant blossoms, till Shanena was safely in the ship.

He watched as Krannti helped his cheanmate settle into the shuttle. The Gomeal narrowed his eyes when Tim produced two short chains out of a storage locker but he took them from the pilot and fastened one to each of the unresisting officer wrists. Then securing them to bolt holes on either side of the rear passenger seat. Bringing his head up against hers, he licked a single stroke up the side of her check. With a sigh Shanena rested her head against his shoulders for just a moment then with a grim hard look on her face, she met his eyes and nodded.

“Go, now, it is going to be bad enough as it is.” Krannti gently brushed her face with one large hand claws half retracted.

“Make them give you a longer leave after this, we will wait in Port City for you.”

“I will try. Go. Now.” The large cavion backed out of the ship but did not leave.

“You.” He turned towards the pilot who’s face blanched. “You have ansaleta paste on board.” Tim’s head bobbed.

“Give her some now.”

“No” the counter-order came from the passenger seat. “Not, till I have to.”

Krannti shook his head turning to Crag still unmoved among the light blue flowers. When the large male met his eyes he looked down, and to the right, trying to appear as harmless as possible. Not too hard under the circumstances. It must have worked, when he raised his head the cavions were gone, all of them.

Tim stood leaning against the cool metal of the ship their eyes met and with out another word they both piled into the shuttle.

The take off was rushed and faster then safe. On the way up he tried to engage Shanena in conversation but the cavion refused to answer. She had her eyes and lips tightly closed, her head thrown back against the head rest, her thoughts focused inward.

They had been in the air for about ten minutes when she suddenly let out a strangled moan, and convulsed in her bonds. Her breathing became shallow, rapid, and she pulled against the restraints. Tim fished under his seat and pulled out a large tube and tossed it into Craig’s lap.

“Insert the tip in her mouth and squeezed in a glob.” Craig looked back at the struggling cavion then back at Tim. “Quickly, she is loosing contact with her chean, the ansaleta will help numb the link pain.”

Unstraping his safety harness Craig turned in his seat. When the tip of the tube touched her lips, Sharon raised her head sucking greedily at the content.

“Careful, don’t get any of that on your skin.” Craig squeezed another inch onto Shannon’s waiting tongue. He withdrew the tube when Tim said “That’s enough, any more and she will be unconscious.” Careful not to touch the plastic tip, he capped the paste tube

He watched as Shanena fell back against the seat sobbing softly, shaking her head and muttering to her self. Craig thought he heard the words ‘there gone, no more’ but could not be sure, as she switched back and forth from english to cavion. Her breathing slowed, and her movements stilled till she was only slight tremblingly.

“How are her hands?” Tim asked craning his neck trying to see over his shoulder into the rear compartment. “Can you see them?”

Craig answered, still turned backwards in his seat “I can’t see them it looks like she is sitting on them.” He turned slowly favoring his injured arm to face forward again buckling his safety harness..

“How long till we get to the port?”

“Two and a half hours less if this tail wind holds.”

The wind held and they made it to Port City in just over two hours, twice more Shanena had stirred, and convulsed. Craig had fed her more of the brown paste each time, and she had settled.

“I’m going straight out to the launch site, what is your pad number?”

Craig told him, surprised when Tim got on the radio and received clearance to proceed, they bypassed security checks and customs flying directly to the shuttle. There was even a cavion pad team readying the ship for launch. Which was very helpful, as Shanena had passed out again. With his arm he was not going to be much help getting her into the ship. Two of the pad team gently undid her restraints shooting both humans pointed looks as they lifted her gloved hands into view. The gloves were dripping blood, and the back of Shanena’s tunic was soaked. Tim hissed between tight lips at the sight. He griped Craig’s good arm as the pad crew carried her up the three steps into the shuttle.

“Please, when she awakes tell her how sorry I am. He looked around making sure they were out of earshot of the pad crew. “You may want to keep the gloves on her for a little while longer until she is fully herself again.”

“I’ll strap her down in the ship.” Craig assured him. Tim shook his head tightening his grip the younger mans arm.

“Her claws will cut through most restrains. The gauntlets were designed by the military to force cavion fingers at an unnatural angle. If a cavion wearing them extent their claws at that angle they end up cutting into there own finger tips.” He dropped his hand letting go of Crag’s arm his shoulders slumping continuing softly. “It’s just she is so hyped up, and I was scared. Please, when she can understand, let her know how very, very sorry I am. I did not mean for her to hurt herself.”

Craig went up the ramp into the shuttle, the cavion pad team had restrained Shanena to one of the reclining passenger couches using the short mental chains taken from Tim’s ship. Her bound hands dripped blood onto the deck. He thought of the five-hour return trip, and of his currently physical condition and decided to leave the gloves on for now. Tim had followed him and stood in the doorway lightly swing a closed canvas bag in one hand.

“Here, she is going to need this.” He tossed the bag on an empty passenger seat then turned to leave speaking over his shoulder as he descended the ramp. “Though you may want to space what’s left before you get to the Hearon.”


Just under six hours later, Craig stood leaning against the hull of his space scout. Dr. Shiftman had met them in the hanger, and immediately cornered the botany specials with some technical problem way over his head. The trip back had been uneventful. He had cleaned up his wounds, and helped Shanena with her injured hands when she had awaken rested, and rational about an hour ago. He had administered three does of the brown paste, stashed the rest in the shuttles first- aid kit. He could get it past security and to her quarters later.

Pushing off the ship he stood at attention as Captain Felicianeo entered the hanger, followed by the ships second engineer. Kemo hovered in the back ground, just on the edge of his vision.

“At ease, well done Pierce” The Heron’s commanding officer shook his hand. “I’m recommending you for a commendation.”

“Thank you, sir.” All he wanted at that moment was a shower, and new uniform. He would have to burn the one he was wearing. The captain lifted his head, a frown appeared on his face and Craig could see his nostril flared.

“What is that smell?”