“Indeed,” Veirn said. “I have noticed our ships, when breaking heavily, leave expanded element debris. It is possible, they—how do the Earth humans put it—slammed on the brakes.”
“Then we should probably follow suit,” Kellen suggested.
“I agree,” Veirn said.
Rinna appreciated Tim’s efforts to protect her, but it was also annoying not to be able to see what was happening.
A large avian.
A little helpful but lacking a lot of specifics.
She tried to peer over Tim’s shoulder. She couldn’t. So she crouched down and tried to look under his arm.
It was a little better. A little.
She crouched some more and then wished she hadn’t.
A large avian was so lacking in specifics. Yes, it was large, almost as big as the shuttle, she decided, based on where the top of its head reached against the damaged ships on either side.
It had black, gray, and dirty white coloring. A beak that—if clean—might be orange. Instead, it was a dingy brown. The only real color were its eyes, which were red with gold centers.
It had beefy legs, and a claw span that looked impressive this far away. She hoped she wasn’t going to find out how impressive. She realized it had some kind of electronic device secured around one leg, and she wondered who had been brave enough to do that.
It lifted its head, extending its neck, its wings flapping and gave a sound that sent chills snaking down her back.
She hoped, she really, really hoped, it wasn’t calling to more of its kind. That it had scattered the canines was only a minor positive.
“We’re in so much trouble,” she muttered, not sure who was hearing her. Or if anyone was. She couldn’t move to check her comms or move to do anything.
“Yes,” Tim said.
Its claws scrapped against the surface, cutting through the debris to the metal base as it took a couple of steps closer, its head lowering to regard them.
She had the feeling it was hoping they’d do something. Perhaps its eyes needed movement? Or it wanted an indication of intent?
It was also curious—a side thought to perhaps reduce her rising tension—that there was metal under foot. What was this place? Other than Lt. Dish’s junkyard?
Its head tipped to one side, bringing up a memory of before, when she lived planet-side with regular sized birds. Just so did they look at a worm before stabbing at it.
It had been cuter on the smaller bird.
But…was there a kind of intelligence in the eyes? They’d encountered sentient animals, quite a lot of them recently. Was this one?
And again, her mind circled back to the question: what was it and what was it doing here?
It made another sound, a smaller one this time. Was it hope that made her catalog it as less hostile? Delusion?
And then, amazingly, she heard another bird sound. A smaller bird, well, small compared to the large avian, flew past it and landed on Tim’s shoulder.
It was T’Korrin. And yes, it gave her a pointed look before directing its attention toward the avian.
It settled firmly, its claws digging into Tim’s suit shoulder until it seemed satisfied. And then it began to squawk. Make avian sounds anyway.
It paused, as if waiting, and then started again, the sounds slightly different from before.
“I’m kind of terrified,” Riina said, quietly into her comm.
“Lira,” Lt. Dish said, “thinks T’Korrin can help.”
