Chapter 390 (1/2)
P'Thok & The Mysterious Spaceship
Piloted by a Mean Green Thing
The Terran girl with cat ears, a fuzzy face, whiskers, and a big smile stuck her tongue out at P'Thok, wiggling where her legs met her torso and leaning forward, one hand coming forward to show two fingers in a V shape.
P'Thok clacked his mandibles at his opponent and waited.
The music started, fast paced, quick beat, and his opponent, a hologram, began jumping back and forth on the squares lighting up. P'Thok copied her, his four legs to her two, rapidly moving to hit the squares as soon as they lit up.
The high score on the musical agility tester would be his, oh yes it would.
The other Treana'ad warriors stared in awe as P'Thok jumped up, turned 90 degrees, and landed smoothly, his footpads flashing as he hit each square as soon as it lit up, waving his hands with the holographic guide, matching the overly flexible Terran girl move for move, despite having four legs.
The machine recognized P'Thok's greatness as the crew watched, squeaking out ”Perfect!” ”Excellent” ”Kawaii!” as he moved.
The lights in the exercise room flashed and everyone looked up.
P'Thok ignored it, concentrating on his digital opponent. The agility trainer had been bought from a Terran trader on the planet they had left only days before, heading for the jump point before going to jumpspace to take a load of moomoos and bacca back to Smokey Cone itself.
”Strike Leader P'Thok, report to the bridge,” the Captain's voice came over the speakers.
P'Thok ignored it, his footpads stomping down, the agility trainer showering him with holographic sparks, whirling spirals of light, and holographic hearts and streamers.
He was almost finished, the other warrior caste of the Treana'ad Strike Team starting to cheer.
Whatever the Captain wanted took second place to the demanding training of a Treana'ad warrior.
The song ended and P'Thok bent at the waist, flourishing his bladearms to the Terran girl. She jumped up and down, clapping her hands and making the high pitched squeaking of barely mature Terrans.
”HIGH SCORE!” the machine bellowed.
P'Thok turned from girl and flourished his bladearms at his men, who watched in amazement as their leader, the legendary P'Thok, walked off of the platform with a swagger, his abdomen barely pulsating as he breathed heavy.
”Practice hard, men, and you shall find your agility skills serving you well upon Smokey Cone in case the Terrans suddenly attack again!” P'Thok said. He adjusted his moomoo hat and got out a pack of cigarettes as the lights flashed again.
”Strike Leader P'Thok, report to the bridge,” the ship Captain repeated again.
P'Thok made sure to saunter, a skill he'd practiced since he'd seen humans do it, all the way to the bridge, puffing on a cigarette as he rubbed his vestigial wings together in pleasure. He had defeated the Terran girl, who was a virtual construct, and proved his superiority to all who had watched.
”High score,” he clacked, savoring the words. Terran words, for supremacy over all others who might even view the scores, much less attempt to unseat the holder of the high score.
The lift opened and P'Thok moved out onto the bridge.
The Captain looked at the legendary hero as the big warrior moved into the bridge, his MooMoo Wrangler head covering on, a smoke in his mandibles. He was nervous being in the presence of such a legendary personage, but still, P'Thok was the leader of the strike team as well as the Treana'ad who spoke to humans on the trading planet.
”Yes, Captain?” P'Thok asked, exhaling smoke around his footpads and from his abdomen.
”We detected what appears to be a damaged emergency beacon,” the Captain said. ”We dropped from jumpspace and this is what appeared on our scanners.”
P'Thok turned from the Captain and looked at the screen.
A ship hung in the blackness of space. It was a standard early generation ship. A long cylinder with four fins around the engine and a cone on one end. It was lit up by lines of multicolored lights spiralling around it and the tip of the nosecone was blinking red. The entire thing was colored green and had blinking lights all over it. Additionally it had two arcs of metal, with spines sticking off into the arc, that were old oxidized endosteel.
”It does not fit any ship type we know of,” the Captain said. ”The beacon is damaged, but it could be a Terran ship, and by the treaty we are bound to assist Terran ships in distress.”
P'Thok nodded. He remembered how pleased Matron Mi'Luki had been that the Terrans had also agreed to assist Treana'ad ships that were in distress.
”Is it answering hails?” P'Thok asked.
The Captain tapped his bladearms in negation. ”No, Strike Leader. Which is why I summoned you.”
P'Thok made a noise of agreement. ”I shall get ready.”
”Will you be taking the entire strike team?” the Captain asked.
P'Thok shook his head. ”Only if needed. Have one of the engineers prepare, I may need his assistance should the engines prove damaged.”
The Captain nodded, feeling better now that P'Thok was planning on handling it.
After all, hadn't P'Thok discovered the secrets that had allowed the Treana'ad people to flourish and overcome the deadly lemurs of Earth?
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P'Thok adjusted the thrusters as he came in close to the strange ship. It looked mostly like a Terran ship, but the coloration was weird, the flashing lights were odd, and it wasn't responding to any hails. He could not see any damage, but P'Thok had been around enough to know that sometimes the most damaged ships looked perfectly intact from the outside.
He slowed down, hefting the magnetic grapple and firing it to help slow him even further. The monocable unspooled and the grapple hit, catching on a ferrous plate.
P'Thok held the handle of the pole, grabbing the handle of the crank, and rapidly turned the crank, pulling himself close to the ship. Once he reached it, he tapped the airlock control and waited. When nothing happened, he looked around and saw the plate covering the manual release.
Working quickly he opened the plate then braced himself, grabbing the handle on the wheel and slowly cranked the door open. He went inside the airlock and cranked it shut from inside.
The interior door opened smoothly and he found himself in a short hallway that looked like it met a central tube that obviously went from the airlock passage up to the nosecone. He could see the handles and foot steps so that he could move easily in the passage.
When he closed the airlock door and scuttled down to the middle tube.
P'Thok wasn't surprised when the gravity went to Zero-G as soon as he entered the tube.
He took a minute to orient himself. 'Below' him was another airlock, this one marked ”Cargo Hold.”
P'Thok nodded to himself. From where he had entered the ship, that meant that three quarters of its length was dedicated to cargo.
”P'Thok to Glorious Trading Vessel, P'Thok to Glorious Trading Vessel,” P'Thok radioed.
He heard clicks and pops and realized they could not talk back to him.
”I have boarded the Terran Republic Space Vessel Rovaniemi and am moving to investigate the bridge,” P'Thok said. He looked around. The tube was covered with odd protrusions and was painted in a spiraling pattern of red and white. It wasn't that tall, maybe four times the height of a Treana'ad warrior.
P'Thok quickly climbed up and was almost halfway there when there was the clicking of relays and a rough voice, Terran but speaking perfect Treana'ad, echoed through the tube.
”It came without ribbons, it came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags,” the voice snarled. ”Who attempts to stop me with malevolent glee?”
P'Thok looked at his suit. There were no ribbons on his suit. He had a nametag, but little else. He wasn't carrying anything.
”I am P'Thok, from the Treana'ad Space Faring Vessel Glorious Trading Vessel,” the Treana'ad warrior answered. ”I am here to provide assistance.”
”Begone, you gigantic insectile pest,” the unseen speaker said. ”You can bring your vest, but you won't pass the test.”
”Help me, mister P'Thok, for I am afraid!” P'Thok heard an immature voice cry out. ”He's got a gun and a plan he has made!”