“Holy shit, Jack! We heard the gunshots and the screaming. The roaring shook the damn walls. Are you okay? Are they all dead?” she said, stepping back away from me to eye the shark in my hand.
“Yes. This one’s for questions,” I said. Callie stepped out behind Patty with a gun in hand, and I dropped the shark onto the floor. He crumpled into a heap at our feet.
I grunted and shifted back into my human form.
I pointed at the alien at my feet. “What’s in the other room? Ask him what it is!” I was shouting at Callie, but this was the time for panic. That thing was terrifying.
The shark asshole started whistling at Callie and waving his hands.
She scowled at the shark and looked at me.
“He said it’s an Orixas. They’re transporting him for some crime boss or king or something. The translation wasn’t clear. He said they’re paying them for the cargo. He’s begging us not to let him out,” Callie said.
The alien croaked and warbled some more, started a hissing/hiccup cadence and shaking. He was crying. Great. He hadn’t cried when he watched me killing his people, but he was going to cry just thinking about the Orixas getting out? That was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all!
“He said it’s an At’ens. He said it like it was important. He put a lot of emphasis on the word,” she said. The word she said also sounded like a Mordor word. I didn’t like that, no ma’am.
“What is that? What does it mean?” I asked the alien.
The alien pointed at the Orixas’s cargo door and whistled.
“He said it’ll kill us. It’ll kill us all,” Callie whispered, her face blanching.
We all looked at the door.
We were so fucked!
“Let’s stay away from its room. We have other things to worry about now. Come on, I’ll show you the bridge and we can see if we can turn this thing around and go home,” I said.
I picked the shark off the floor and pushed him to walk in front of me.
The girls followed behind me.
Why did I feel things are about to go from bad to worse?
Chapter 4
Callie couldn’t fly the ship. The ship being the only advanced alien tech the sharks owned apparently, too advanced for Callie to make head or tails of it. The Designated Survivor was an engineer, and also didn’t know how to fly the ship. Probably shouldn’t have murdered all the fancy aliens on the bridge. My bad. My extra special bad.
We spent the rest of the next few hours moving bodies into the airlock in the cargo hold and, with a little instruction from the engineer shark, shooting them out into space.
We’d found some ninja costumes in the storage room by the mess hall, and could get dressed after showering in the tube showers in the sleeping quarters, they used some sort of cold gel to wash with and not water. It was an all around unpleasant experience that got my skin clean but matted my poor hair further than it had been.
That hadn’t been my only complaint. The black fabric of the alien clothes had a lot of stretch to it but not enough to go over my frame. The pants I had squeezed into. They were tight, and I’d had to cut the bottom so they’d go over my calves, but no way was the top going to stretch over the muscled expanse of my shoulders and arms. Not to mention the boobs. I was built like a warrior, but I had boobs. The shirt just wasn’t up to the task. I tore it into strips and fashioned a band to cover my breasts. One girl said she could try to make me something out of the crinkly sheets on the beds, but we hadn’t been able to find anything resembling a needle so far. I didn’t trust the sheet fabric to stay knotted together when she suggested we just tie it, so I was stuck with the bandeau for now.
Another girl took command of cleaning all the blood and bits and got a group together to help. I went along with the cleaning crew since it was my mess.We found cleaning supplies in the kitchen. An actual mop. Like a human looking mop. No fancy alien cleaning bots, just rags, disinfectant spray, and a fucking mop. I hated it here.
You lied to me, Ridley Scott!
We got the bridge mopped up and the one bedroom with the two aliens I’d murdered in their beds, but the security break room was taking forever, so I’d left the engineer cleaning that on his own with two girls armed with guns guarding him. The feral look in their eyes while they watched him would keep him in check better than the guns themselves.
We gathered everyone else in the mess hall, eating the weird food we’d found in the kitchen after I taste tested everything since it probably wouldn’t kill me if it wasn’t good for us. Everything went down and stayed down with no side effects after an hour, so everyone was enjoying some much needed dinner. We were a subdued bunch for having broken out and taken an alien ship. Still couldn’t go home, and that had crushed a lot of hope.
Did the Big Bad in the tube cage need to eat? I mean, he was as much a prisoner as we were.
After everyone went to sleep, I’d venture into the hold to figure out if he needed to eat or not. Enemy of my enemy kinda thing.
We definitely didn’t want him to be our enemy. These kinds of things always get out. I’d seen this movie.
