There we go again…

Seems the life is getting incredible speed again. Ok, one thing after another.

1) The sparring. Well, Jake explained a bit of what happened in his blog note. From my perspective it looked like he was getting more and more distant and uncaring. I don’t really like to fight, but that was one of the last options to get any emotional response from him, so I had no other choice but to accept when he asked me to. I had to either get through to him, or get him off the leadership.
Oh, and some clarifications:

• No, I have no idea how I actually managed to even stand my ground there. Possibly has something to do with nanites.
• No, Jake didn’t really hurt me, it’s just a several bruises. I landed in medbay because of extremly low blood sugar.
• I didn’t fight against Jake, but against the mental wall he shielded himself with.

And I can’t really describe the fight. Sorry, was too focus on actual sparring than on remembering precisely how I do it There are some footages from the fight, ask around (btw: since when is the “no photos/films in base” rule invalid?)

2) The trade – we’re working to figure out how big and how well organised that new thing is. Out of obvious reasons – no more details here.
Marty is adapting at the base. A chat with Olo seems to calm him down a lot. Well, at least enough to forget the little paint bucket incident ^_^

3) … I can’t find appropriate title, but there is something big going on right now. Big and dangerous enough, that Kris decided to come and say goodbye before moving out. There should be more information when the group returns.

That’s it for now. I’m getting ready for yet another crazy time…

Road to Nevada

Marty had yet another panic attack after waking up. It took him quite a while to realise where he is and that no one was going to hurt him. This poleep is seriously a mess, it’s gonna be a long time before he’s gonna get rid of that fear…
Because his rags were dirty and damaged beyond repair, I took some clothes from safehouse supply and put the pile on his bed.
- Here. Pick something and prepare for the long travel.
His antennae twitched.
- T-travel?
I tried to sound as calming and convincing as possible.
- Well, I have to go back to Nevada base. I thought you’re gonna come with me…
Marty curled down on his bed. I resisted the urge to hug him, that would only scare him more.
- Marty, I won’t hurt you, neither will any of my friends there. I told you, we work to help aliens.
Poleepkwa remained silent. He didn’t want to go, I saw it, but he was too scared to directly refuse. Under normal circumstances I’d just leave him in the safehouse, so the locals took care, but this time… Commander’s orders were clear here and I couldn’t even argue – Marty might give us valuable information about the new trade. I didn’t want to force him tho. He would listen to direct order, he was clearly taught to listen and obey… but that would shatter any little trust he had. I had to find another way… and a sudden realisation came. Linka was the unfailable option to gain trust of any Poleepkwa. It might work here too. I went for my laptop and searched through the photos and videos I had there…
- Marty, I want you to see something.
He looked at the screen, with video of playing Linka on it. His eyes brightened. I smiled.
- I have a cute child, right?
Marty blinked rapidly.
- H-how?
- How is it possible?
He nodded.
- Well… Long story short – Linka was sold to Europe as an egg. I found that egg in the smuggler shack. Ever since then, I took care of her and when she hatched I became her parent.
Marty looked at me as if he tried to guess whether I tell the truth. I noticed his arms moved down, shielding the abdomen.
- Y-you a-are n-not w-with t-them?
- No, I’m not. I work against the trade, Marty. Will you go with me?
He slumped and nodded. Yet again I had to hold the urge to hug him.
- OK then, get dressed, then we eat something and move out.

***

Most of time Marty sat quiet  in the backseat, with hood of the grey sweatshirt he picked pulled up to cover his head and shade his face. He looked a bit like he was trying to hide in it. Focused on the driving, I didn’t speak much either, at least until in the rear view mirror I noticed him wriggling a bit.
- What is it Marty?
He curled down instantly, visibly hesitating before saying anything.
- I-I’m h-hungry…
It sounded like he was apologising for that.
- S’ok. We’ll buy something soon.
I looked at my invaluable GPS – seemed there was a gas station a bit ahead. I headed there, hoping to get some at least half decent food there.

Seems that was a fortunate choice. I left Marty in the car, forbidding him to go out, and went shopping, only to eavesdrop an information about some expensive car being stolen and the heavy police patrolling of the roads near state border. Just great, the last thing I wanted was a random papers check and a fuckload of explanation to follow. Of course, I could talk my way out easily now, being officially a Tanukashi employee and Poleepkwa being under Tanu administration, but for the sake of Marty I preferred to avoid it. He was frightened enough as he was.

I took one hot dog from the box, giving rest to Marty, and once again consulted the GPS on any detour options, to avoid the patrolled area. Unfortunately, all available would require at least several additional hours. Considering it was late afternoon and I was already a bit tired, driving late at night didn’t sound like an option. The best idea I had, was to spend the night in the car, on the roadside parking or in the forest, and then check for news and either go around or, if the police gets their suspect, go with the planned route.

***

Marty took the information about unplanned delay calmly. He seemed to agree with me it’s better to avoid trouble. I found a semi-legal parking spot at the forest clearing, far enough from the road so a dark car wasn’t too visible when lights were off. I put the car seats down, gave Marty a blanket and told him to get some sleep, then sat on the car hood with my laptop. I checked my mails, talked to people and track the news until the battery went low, then I snuck into the car, hoping to get a few hours of sleep too.
Marty either was not asleep, or I woke him up. I took the other blanket, muttered some “good night” to the poleepkwa, turned my back to him and tried to fall asleep. Marty snuggled closer… I didn’t pay much attention to that fact, until his hand touched my neck in a way that was hardly innocent. I barely managed to hold myself from pushing him back, and just stopped his hand. I turned around, front to him.
- Marty, what are you doing?
He avoided my eyes, curled down in fear again.
- I… I t-thought…
I realised what he meant. What did humans want from him so far? Shit… A small car interior, without much option for distance, is one of the most awkward places to explain such things.
- Marty, I’m not helping you for your… services.
He looked at me confused but didn’t say a thing.
- Really. I don’t want to have sex with you, hell, I’m not even interested in your species that way. You don’t have to “pay” me for anything.
- T-then w-why?
- Because you needed help. Not all humans are bad, but I know it’s hard to believe if you’ve met only the worst of our kind.
I shrugged. What else could I say. The whole situation was awkward, even more because of my still unhealed trauma towards interspecies sex… Yet, it was not his fault to react the way he’s been taught for years…
- Just try to sleep, OK? It may be a busy day tomorrow.
He nodded and laid back down, looking confused and lost in thoughts. I turned again, trying to get some comfortable position to sleep. I’ve heard Marty turning a bit, before he cuddled close again, this time in a totally innocent way.
-T-thank you.

***

Next day we’ve reached NVHQ. Marty is having medical check now, I want to make sure he’s OK, especially considering his pregnancy. I myself am writing this note, waiting for… well. I either blog that later on, or Commander will. It’s gonna be interesting anyways.

Marty

I have unusual luck to weird encounters, coincidences and fat chances it seems. And a stupid habit of starting my posts somewhere in the middle Ok, from the beginning.

There’s a safehouse-to-be in California. A group of freshly joined people decided to organise it and requested some help, someone experienced and “higher up” to check the location. I guess that’s not a secret I don’t like to sit in one place for too long? I mean, I don’t mind living in one spot and so on, just staying for 2 weeks in the base without going out is kinda tiring… Anyways I thought it’s a great opportunity to, after all the events, finally move my backside. I’ve been given several lectures on what to check, how some things should work, got entry codes to the safehouse and moved out.

It was good to be on the road. Well, would be better if it wasn’t raining that much. Out of all summer days I had to pick the rainy period for interstate trips. Blessed be the inventor of GPS, seriously. I’d be lost several times without that device. It was getting dark and the road was empty, so I sped up a bit, hoping to reach my destination before night. A while later I had to rapidly brake, when some gray thing got out of the woods right onto the road. Car skidded a bit on wet road and despite my efforts I couldn’t avoid hitting the creature. I backed away, pulled over and got out to check what was that, and possibly call the forest service or any proper authorities…

In this case – I was the proper authority. Imagine my surprise when I saw a knocked-out Poleepkwa lying on the road. He was dirty as hell and wearing some rags. I knelt down to check whether the collision harmed him, but it seemed I only knocked him out. He had some scars and cracks in the shell, none of them seemed fresh tho… I pulled the Poleepkwa to the car, placed him at the back seat and rushed to the safehouse, hoping that one: the “safe” part is true; two: darkened windows will be enough to hide my “passenger”; and three: no random police patrol takes interests in my car.

Fortunately I managed to reach the destination. Safehouse was in the industrial quarter of X (sorry, classified) and looked like an inconspicuous warehouse. Once I got inside tho I noticed it was modified to accomodate Poleepkwa. Front part served as a parking lot and storage place and the back of the building was adapted into something that resembled a two-store dormitory – several rooms, large kitchen and two bathrooms on each floor. Locals put a lot of time and effort into this one it seemed. The building was empty, so I just texted the local group I’m there.

Some of the furniture was not assembled yet, so I just used one of the matresses and several blankets to make a place to lay my passenger. He was still unconscious when I dragged him (sorry, no way on earth I could carry him) to the nearest room. I laid him down and decided to wait a bit, until he wakes up. It took about an hour.

Poleepkwa squealed a bit, waking up on his makeshift bed. He looked around with panic in his eyes. When he spotted me, he crawled backwards until his back touched the wall. At this moment I regretted being alone. He seemed scared out of his wits, that might mean trouble and not that long ago I had a painful reminder what are my chances against poleepkwa. He didn’t seem agressive tho. He curled down when I approached him.
- Hey, it’s OK – I tried to use the most calming tone – I’m not going to hurt you.
The only response I got was supressed cry. I preferred not to think of reasons why is he so scared of humans. He winced when I took another step towards him. I figured just talking is not going to work here and backed away.
Locals really did think about many things, including food supply. Canned meat might not be the most exquisite cuisine, but I doubted my guest would be picky. His eyes brightened a bit when I returned with a full plate, hunger trying to win with fear. I went about halfway of the room, putting the plate on the ground.
- Here. You can come and eat, I’m not gonna harm you.
I went back to the door. Poleepkwa swayed a bit, front and back, before finally deciding to carefully approach the plate. He looked a bit like a scary animal, ready to pounce away with the slightest threat. He ate like an animal too, trying to swallow everything in quickest way possible. I stayed silent, trying not to move until he finished.
- Was that enough?
Sound of my voice startled him again, making him jump back and fall over on the floor.
- I’m sorry! Are you all right?
He blinked at me, as if trying to understand what I just said.
- Y-yes.
- I’m really not going to harm you. My name is Maria and I belong to an organisation that helps… nonhumans.
I hesitated for a moment there, as I’ve met many Poleepkwa who didn’t know their species name at first. He kept staring at me in some sort of disbelief. I smiled.
- You have any name?
His mandibles waved… Ah yes, the common issue – Poleepkwa are at best able to pronounce a very disfigured version of human names that were assigned to them. I took the notepad out of my pocket.
- Can you write?
He nodded. I came up to him, trying not to make any sudden movements. He curled down nevertheless, his hand was shaking when he took the notepad and pencil. He wrote like a child, or someone who never had a chance to use the script. He handed me the notepad back, with the name “Marty Spark” scribbled on it.
- Marty, right?
He nodded. Up close I noticed one of his antennae was damaged, less mobile than the other and a bit drooped.
- OK, Marty, was the food enough? Or you want more?
- E-enough…
- Do you want to get cleaned? And some better clothes?
He looked at me surprised.
- C-cleaned?
- Yeah, you’re all covered with dirt, soil and so on… C’mon, I’ll show you.
I expected some resistance, yet he got up and followed me to the bathroom, obediently took his rags off and sat in the bath, only the twitch of his antennae showed how much is he scared. He relaxed soon, when he found out shower is harmless and warm water is not gonna hurt him. Guys at the safehouse REALLY did think about everything, as there were even some brushes in the bathroom closet, perfect for cleaning out poleepkwan shell. Still, it took some time to get the dirt off Marty… his plating is actually brownish-yellow, not grey, you know? Warm, soapy water relaxed him enough to stop getting tense each time I touched him, so I could actually help him get cleaned. And talk with him a bit.
- I’m sorry I hit you with the car.
He nodded, uncertain how he should respond to that one.
- What were you doing in the forest?
- H-hiding?
- Hiding from what?
I’ve noticed his antennae shaking in stress. For a moment I thought he’s not gonna answer – yet he did. Stammering and breaking up from crying, he started to tell his story. To make long story short – Marty is an escaped, pregnant ex-callprawn and breeder-to-be.
Yes. Trade. Again.
He’s sleeping now. I already notified Commander, I’ll get Marty to Nevada as soon as possible.

Oh, and safehouse is free to start. I checked most of things, not to mention unplanned practical test…