Page 48 of Stripped By the Alien

A faint vibration answers me. Defiance.

I strike the wall again, harder than before, and the vibration dies.

Then I find myself speaking words I hadn't intended to use. "And you endangered Nora."

The response is immediate. A pulse moves through the wall beneath my hand, and understanding follows a heartbeat later. The beast is angry about attention.

I stare at the glowing membrane for several moments before an unexpected laugh escapes me.

"You ridiculous creature."

The wall presses gently against my hand again.

For a moment I can almost understand her reasoning. I feed her. Guide her. Fight beside her. Travel inside her. Every important cycle of her life revolves around me, and there's no stronger bond than that between a Chief Harrower and his ship. Now another female occupies my attention and the Beast has decided she dislikes the arrangement.

The absurdity of it would be amusing if it hadn't nearly killed Nora.

I straighten and let the humor leave my voice. "Your preferred feeding cycle is suspended."

The membrane immediately withdraws. Good. Now she's listening.

"You'll receive standard nutrient stock for the next ten cycles. You'll obey every command during the next cycles, and your performance will be flawless."

The chamber darkens. I let the silence stretch before continuing. "If I begin questioning your usefulness, things will become unpleasant for both of us."

The threat doesn't need further explanation. Space beasts that become uncontrollable don't remain in service forever. Eventually they are returned to breeding programs or retired, let loose. It's not a bad thing for them, but they never see their Harrower again. The Beast understands that perfectly well.

A pulse travels through the chamber again. This time it carries fear, followed by reluctant submission. The surrounding tissue relaxes. Nutrient currents resume their normal rhythm. Warmth returns to the air.

I rest my hand against the membrane one final time. "You are magnificent," I tell her. "I am proud of you and I have never regretted taming you for myself. Don’t change that."

The Beast answers with a soft pulse that feels almost apologetic.

Almost. For now, that's all I can expect.

I leave the circulation chamber more unsettled than when I entered it. The Beast has submitted. For now, at least. That should have resolved the matter. A subordinate disobeys, discipline is imposed, and the mission continues. The simplicity of that arrangement has always been one of the great comforts of command. Instead, as I move through the living corridors, I find myself thinking about Nora again.

The female has somehow managed to disrupt the Beast, distract me from my duties, and convince herself that crawling through the digestive passages of a living war-beast constituted a reasonable escape plan. Any sensible creature would have died several times already. Nora appears determined to survive through stubbornness alone.

I make my way back toward the command levels.

A membrane opens ahead of me before I reach it.

On the other side, the Signals Chief drops to his knees and holds up another tablet "Chief Harrower! The transmission from Harrower Buc'xsit has arrived."

“At last,” I grunt. Something understandable. Something that follows familiar rules.

I take the message tablet from him and touch it to my antennae and read the writing.

The battle continues. Dri'puxz remains engaged. The enemy Harrower has suffered significant damage. Coordinates are attached, along with a collection of sensor recordings and recovered imagery.

I review everything once, then begin again more carefully.

The battle is farther from the Nest than I'd expected. That alone explains why it has continued for so long. Living ships can endure astonishing punishment, especially when rival Harrowers become too proud to withdraw. Pride has prolonged many battles that reason would have ended.

My pulse quickens. Battle! It’s been a while for the Beast and me. We’ve spent too long on the edge of known space, watching mine fields and exploring cold stars for possible targets to Harvest. Nothing will tame the Beasts murderousness towards Nora like a battle. And nothing will make me feel more alive. Except possibly mating with Nora.

The signals chief remains motionless on the floor while I continue studying the data. He knows better than to interrupt.