After watching the vibrantly plumed dragon emerge and begin to explore, Avra hurriedly contacted the ship’s Canid Chief of Security.
“What is it now?” He barked angrily, annoyed that the AI had called him back moments after he had hung up the previous call.
“You said to notify you immediately, annnnd…,” she trailed off as she played back footage of 30 feet of scales and feathers emerging from the crystal rock they had jokingly been calling an egg and began roaming around the cargo hold. Far from being a hatchling, the creature that came out of the rubble was alert and possibly fully grown; more like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon.
“What is that thing?” Arvak asked, equally worried and curious. Worst case scenarios fell into his domain, and he couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if this thing were hostile.
Claws and talons that might be the size of a grown man’s hand. A beaked and fanged maw that could easily tear flesh. A tail that bore a semblance to the kind some lizards had that could be used to slap away predators, only scaled up to the point that they could probably crush a man. A long, thick horn pointing forward menacingly and lithe muscles to propel it forward. And lastly, wings that could make it an aerial threat, if given enough space. Arvak’s gaze quickly registered each part and their potential for danger as he tactically analyzed what he was seeing as the artificial construct reported.
“Species unknown,” Avra replied. “The ship’s database is limited and we don’t have access to the Galactic Network at this time, but it does not appear in the catalogue of frequently encountered fauna during salvage operations. Especially not ones in space.” She punctuated pointedly. Avra held up one hand as a crude, wire-frame 3D replica of the creature appeared above it, slowly rotating. “Basic observations show its body has mostly draconic features. Notable deviations are the emergence of feathers on the top part of its body, the distinctly avian wing configuration, and the formation of tail feathers.” Raising her other hand, a similar wire-frame image materialized, cycling through several variants of metallic and chromatic types of dragon.
Above the two images floating over her hands, a copy of each one moved into position and merged, each turning slightly transparent and taking on different hues as physical differences in features were highlighted as she continued. “Comparing this to known species of dragons, this is either a juvenile, or this species is smaller than the common types, though some are known to fit in the palm of your hand. Medical is too small and without dedicated bio scanners, I’m afraid we won’t get much more information than that.”
Around this time, the dragon-bird had made it to the partially closed doors that would have closed off a section of the cargo hold, had several boxes of machine parts not fallen in the way and then been crushed before the closing sequence had been aborted. As the near peacock-colored creature struggled to squeeze through them, the AI giggled to herself and made another overlay image; this time taking a popular net vid someone had posted of their cat pulling itself out from under a tight gap from beneath a piece of furniture while laying on its back and squirming as it used its paws to pull itself out. This match was slightly less accurate than earlier comparisons, but it amused the program greatly.
Motion in the main hall drew her attention back to more serious matters. Streaming from the cafeteria were just shy of a dozen crab turtles heading straight for the stairs that led to the dormitory where Arvak and much of the crew were holed up. “CTs on the move, heading your way,” she warned, pulling up more security feeds from various angles to track their movement.
“Count?” He replied tersely. Avra could see him making hand signals to other marines in the room.
“About a dozen. Could be more. Moving from the cafeteria down the main hall.”
She could see him and a few others making quick, final weapons checks as he gave more orders. “Alert the Captain immediately. Holo at him if you must. We’ll prepare to evacuate. Since they’re gunning for us, maybe we can lure them to an airlock or one of the hold doors and vent them,” he calmly suggested.
Before he could end the call this time, Avra noticed something else happening in the cargo hold. “Hang on to that thought. I have a crazy plan that just might work.” Mischief glinted in her light-projected eyes and pulled at the corner of her mouth as she gave the cleaning and repair bots she deployed earlier new orders.
Back in the hold, our intrepid dragon-bird licked its lips and beak as he tossed the cleaned-out shell that had minutes ago been a very vigorous and rather bite-y crab turtle. He felt it tasted different than what he was used to (as inconsistent and vague as his memory recollection was), but it was enjoyable.
Now that he had found edible and tasty food (or to be more accurate, it had found him), he was confident that he could find more. The scent was distinct, though the acrid and unfamiliar smells this metal cavern contained were making it difficult to smell anything other than hot metal and whatever the various dark greases and liquids found on much of the metal in here. The constant hum of the place also masked some lighter sounds, like his would-be attacker’s eager scuttling. Prowling about, he began to carefully sniff the air, hunting for more tasty morsels.
He didn’t have to search far though, as the scent of a recent kill, both different and wrong smelling, drew him to the narrow confines behind another one of the large metal boxes. There, he found three more of the crab turtles eagerly picking clean and devouring the last few bones of whatever had fallen victim to them.
At the sight of the trio of crab turtles eagerly shoving the last scraps of blood-stained cloth and broken bits of bone into their mouths, the dragon bird’s mind roiled and a wave of revulsion hit him. He didn’t understand why he felt the need to stop the crab turtles from finishing off the remains or why he suddenly felt such disgust at the creatures, but in a flash a talon swiped down on the nearest one and dragged it screeching across the metal floor.
Exposing its underside and using the same beak strike he used to dispatch the other one, he quickly recoiled as a foul taste entered his mouth. Spitting out the still twitching crustacean, he tossed it over his shoulder and lunged for the remaining two. The confined space left him little room to maneuver, let alone move, but he managed to bite down on the shell of one from above and pick it up in his mouth while giving a short, but powerful backhand to the other. Shells cracked as one hit the wall, and the other retreated into its shell like a turtle.
Not wanting any more of the foul taste he could smell on this batch getting in his mouth again, he fretted for a moment before remembering the frost breath thing he did back in the crystal shell. Concentrating on that feeling, he felt some sort of pull he hadn’t noticed before; some form of energy flowed within him and then the temperature dropped. Unbothered by the cold, he tilted his head back and softly exhaled, ice completely coating the shell before he let go of it, then stomped on the shell, crushing it thoroughly. He shook his head with his mouth open, letting now frozen bits fall out of his mouth as a somewhat effective palette cleanser; neither his tongue nor the inside of his mouth were affected by the ice it just created. Somberly, he backed out of the narrow space he had squeezed into and fluttered his wings in agitation.
Although not completely sated, he felt he’d lost his appetite over the ordeal. Perhaps if he explored more, he could find something more … appealing to it. It seemed unlikely in this lair of metal he found himself in, but hopefully he could find a way out of here. Before he could sink too deep into grim thoughts, something small hit him lightly in the head. Blinking, he looked down to see a small, squat cylinder rolling on the floor at his feet. Looking up, he saw only the edge of the metal balcony that stretched all along the wall. No movement betrayed what had knocked over or thrown the object. Suspicious, he started prowling along the open expanse of metal cavern, keeping an eye on the area above him for signs of movement.
A rhythmic, metallic tapping to his left drew his attention away from the “balcony” and his eyes searched warily among all the various lumps and shapes of metal to find its source. Certain that it came from above, he looked up along the metal railing to see a sizable gap. This space was potentially large enough to fly in, if only for a short glide, but the dragon bird was wary over this unfamiliar terrain. Could the balcony-like structure hold his weight? Was there more room up high or maybe a way out of this lair? The former seemed unlikely as he could see the metal walls that barred his way down here continued to the high ceiling above. A break in the balcony where the piece “missing” was hanging vertically gave him pause. On one talon, a broken segment would validate his fears of the structure’s instability, but on the other this looked too intact; a perfect square aimed vertically. The metal that provided this wall had evenly spaced circular and slotted holes forming an odd pattern that made him wonder if it was used for climbing.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The floor where the angled piece of balcony was positioned had a squared outline of yellow and black lines that matched its approximate size with softly flashing orange gems leading up to, as well as framing, the square beginning to light up. The same tapping that drew his attention earlier repeated with seemingly more urgency. Recoiling as if sensing a trap, the dragon bird took an involuntary step back, eyes flicking rapidly to the gems, the square, the wall-balcony, and the upper balcony, trying to discern what was going on. As he did though, he felt a strange sensation of reassurance from that oil sensation that gently roiled in his mind. Not sure if he could trust it, but lacking much in the way of other options, he cautiously stepped towards and into the illuminated square.
Reaching out a talon tentatively towards the wall-balcony, he prepared himself to test his weight against it and see if it was stable enough to support him climbing it. Before he could touch it, however, he felt as if the floor were suddenly gone and felt lighter. Looking down, he noticed that the floor was ever so slowly moving away from him; or he was moving away from it, to be exact. As he slowly lifted into the air above the yellow and black striped square and its flashing orange gems, he began to panic and try to thrash about, wings fluttering in annoyance and an attempt to gain control of flight. This only served to propel him upwards faster as his hind legs found purchase on the metal ground, but wound up boosting him farther upwards as he pushed off. His entire body felt weightless and strange; like he couldn’t right himself in the air, even though his orientation with the floor hadn’t changed.
He was even more alarmed when he realized that the wall-balcony he had intended to climb was slowly swinging up under him as he floated upwards, making a strange whirring noise before slipping into place with a metallic click. The floating sensation ceased and he found himself on solid ground, so to speak, and able to move again.
More deliberate metallic taps echoed to his right as he swiftly moved off of the hinged platform. Above him were metal tubes and before him the balcony turned, larger than he thought it’d be, but still somewhat cramped to his lighting. His wings flexed open slightly but remained poised at his sides, grateful for the more open space as he carefully but quickly moved along the still metal landscape. Something akin to a long, metal table stretched down the length of the area along the wall. More bits of metal in shapes and colors he’d never seen before were spaced out before him all along its length as he heard the metallic tapping noise back the direction he had come from, but up here somewhere in the balcony area. Warily, he stalked down the row, claws clicking out their own rhythm on the metal as he searched for what was making the sound.
SPD-3 and WMVCM-3, spider-framed repair and wheeled multipurpose vacuum bots, respectively and colloquially designated as Speedy and Wheels, deployed to the cargo hold per Avra’s instructions. Their orders were to discretely observe the strange creature that had appeared in the cargo hold and monitor its movements from a safe distance. The task was daunting even for robots, however, as Wheels found itself mere feet from the fierce looking monster. Its emerald green slitted eyes panned back and forth across it, seemingly unaware it was there as it panned across the stacked and piled metal parts. Wirelessly, the two droids relayed info to one another in the ship’s text communication network.
W: Target sighted. Motionless bots appear unnoticed or non priority to Target. Designating Target as T.
S: Aff. Moving ahead to mid bay doors
W: Aff
Speedy moved along the pipes in the ceiling via a twin grappling hook system on either side of its abdomen. It looked something like a metallic spider with its cephalothorax bisected long ways and able to spin like a turret along with its front two limbs. The legs could reconfigure slightly, having magnetic tips and multidirectional joints. The first half of its abdomen looked like a revolver and a beehive had combined into some sort of unholy multitool matrimony, storing various tools and alternative leg loadouts it could swiftly reconfigure itself to. The back half was divided into special filament dispensers which the two small launchers at the back would use to deploy grappling hooks to swiftly move itself around or to seal or secure on quick repair jobs.
Speedy repelled down onto the railing of the catwalk on the disassembly level. The conveyor belt and auto disassembler shut down when the lock down began. Various mid-sized machine and smaller ship parts still rested on the belt to be sorted, dismantled, and melted down or stored intact. As the bot moved into position to observe, movement from behind caused it to turn and take a defensive posture as a crab turtle charged, slamming it into the railing.
S: *ALERT* Infestation detected. Level 2, sector 6. SPD-3 under attack. Engaging defensive protocols
W: Neg. T is approaching your position. Evac and regroup
S: Aff
Speedy used its forelimbs to grapple the crab turtle, which had a knack for munching on wires and electronics as it braced its hind limbs. Pushing up in a grapple-locked jump while flipping the ravenous pest over the railing, the spider bot swivelled its grapplers to grab on to the railing, anchoring itself and using the railing as a fulcrum as it threw its attacker to the floor below, then deftly slipped between one of the gaps in the railing before scurrying off down the catwalk.
Monitoring the situation through the vid feed as well as monitoring communications and various sensors, Avra smiled to herself as she watched this all play out.
A: Speedy, Wheels. Discreetly bait that thing to the grav lift, and then up to the main deck I have a plan.
S: Aff
W: Aff
Baiting the large reptile avian (Reptivian? Avra amused herself with name crafting) turned out to be rather easy. Though it moved cautiously, a series of beeps, trills, and knocks were sufficient to draw its attention and get it to at least move towards where they wanted it to go. Finally nearing the wide stairs, the duo prepared to draw the creature up to the main floor; then disaster struck.
Positioned up the stairs, Speedy was ready to tap-and-run, a tactic that has proven effective so far. Wheels was across from the base of the stairs, near a discreet dumb waiter/ small robot service elevator (barely big enough to squeeze a full grown human or two in if they squatted down), ready to draw the creature back, obscure its vision with a blast of steam/mist, and slip into the robot elevator as Speedy made noises upstairs to draw its attention and lure it up. As Wheels made a quick burst of noise to draw it closer, the large, feather-and-scaled creature triggered a leftover booby trap that was not meant for it.
The Mark V Crab Flinger, also known as the Crabapult, was a very crude trap consisting of a sturdy metal plate welded to a metal pivot ring attached to the railing with a counter weight attached to a trip wire, designed to launch a two to four foot long crab turtle that had been lured into it into one of the shipping crates below on the lower level (with mixed results). This was not the case for a several thousand pound, thirty foot mini behemoth of feathers and scale that was cautiously slinking into the booby trap. Instead of attempting to make the Herculean task of attempting to fling the outsized dragon-bird into the lower hold, his talon came down on the tripwire, severing it while his head loomed over the launcher. The counter-weight dropped, violently pivoting the see-saw on its fulcrum to deliver an uppercut. Two more steps forward brought him in range of the even less successful Mark IV, which swung horizontally in a sweeping motion and slapped the dragon-bird across the face. Its anger was palpable as Wheels went from beeping out an “over here” tone into an “uh-oh” one.
The dragon-bird charged, smashing a few more traps along the way as Wheels backed up, beeping an alarm as the folding metal arms on the front of its chassis reached behind it to detach a mag-locked, heavy-duty stun rifle and aimed. The oversized shock cartridge deployed, making an electrical buzzing sound as it unleashed a charge strong enough to stop a large bull. Unaffected, the dragon bird halted its rampage and looked at the device that stung him with confusion and recognition, realizing that the electrical arcs ineffectually tickling across his scales were a much weaker version of the blast that blasted him free of the flash frozen crystal he had crawled out of (not unscathed, though he no longer bore any marks from that misadventure). Looking back up to the strange metal entity and opening his mouth to try to speak to it, he got another surprise as a nozzle on the robot deployed and sprayed dirty mop water straight into his mouth, and then it made a smoke screen like some sort of land squid.
The dragon bird sputtered and coughed as two metal clangs rang out as if something was dropped, and something else hit a wall. The smoke quickly dissipated and the metallic troublemaker was gone. Turning to the sound of metal tapping up the nearby stairs, the dragon-bird rushed up the straining metal stairs and crested the landing into the main deck to the biggest surprise since he woke up.
For there, just down the hall, were three humanoids with large sticks surrounding a flipped-over, stunned crab-turtle.
And all of them were staring right at the dragon-bird with looks of surprise and alarm.
“What the hell?” One of them softly exclaimed, in a language he could clearly understand, but clearly wasn't Draconic.