Streetcars
     "#Knocker two seven this is Stretch, orbital bombardment had ceased. Push given vector to sector seven three two nine and secure atmosphere.#"
     "Copy Stretch," Book said, the pilot and captain of our small interceptor. "Knocker flight two seven pushing vector to seven three two nine and kicking the furball off."
     I couldn't help but grin. Traffic control had just given us the go ahead to drop below the orbital bombers and ensure nothing would bother our troops from the sky. The primitive people below us had nothing more than kites with fans attached, but the advantage of being in the air was enough alone to be worth sending some teeth down to ensure they stayed on the ground. My fellow crew mates, Captain Roogh "Book", the pilot, Captain Thort "Oops", our weapons and targeting systems officer(WSO or 'Wizo'), and Lieutenant Kispund "Crunch", the electronic warfare officer(NEWO) were looking forward to an easy mission for once.
     As a corporal I was the only enlisted member of the crew, serving as flight engineer. I did inflight repairs, fueling, but more importantly I am the "hide" to Oops's "go seek". Hiding a hot spaceship against cold space ain't easy, but for this mission all of us but Book are spectators. An O-66 Knife against one of those toys down there is like using a microwave cannon against bug. Book was about to have a blast, and we were about to enjoy watching him have one. He snap rolled us so the planet was above us and pulled up before adding thrust, driving us at an angle against our orbiting trajectory and towards the surface until we were free falling straight down over our sector.
     Oops looked over her shoulder, kitty-corner across the cockpit to me.
     "Still awake back there, Pants?"
     It was a tease from a training mission three months ago. I had nodded off about two minutes before contact and didn't wake up until after the second maneuver. In my defense I had been up late trying to locate a leak, but that didn't mean the teasing was any less intense.
     As for the callsign Pants, well, I'm still embarrassed two years after earning it. They're never "earned" for something good unless it's doing the impossible, like skewering enemy personnel on the end of your 'craft. Nobody aboard this Knife has a proud callsign, that was for sure.
     "Wide awake, ma'am." I said with a grin. "I wouldn't want to miss this slaughtering for the world."
     Crunch smirked in her seat to the right of me and behind Oops. In front of me Book chuckled. I couldn't see it, of course, but I heard his quiet, deep voice through the suit's intercom nonetheless.
     
     Moments after that we felt an impact and alarms sounded. Training and drills kicked in, and I began trying to isolate critical systems and start a back-up reactor that wasn't there anymore as flecks on the ground bloomed cities, and then buildings.
     "Knocker two seven!" Book called. "I'm hit! Ditching it over sector seven three two nine!"
     We waited for him to initiate the ejection sequence, but it didn't go. There was a grunt.
     "Damnit," he said. "It's fucked. All of you bail."
     Nobody moved.
     "I said-"
     "We're not leaving," Crunch said.
     I nodded to myself in agreement.
     "Yes are," said Oops, spinning as far as her seat restrains would let her. She smacked Crunch's egress over-ride before the NEWO could protect it and-
     
     I was in the air. It took me a few seconds to realize that was the ground down there, that I was moving towards it, and after the panic subsided a little to realize that I was still strapped into my ejection seat. I racked my brain for a moment before I could recall the last moments in the cockpit. Book must have jettisoned me, I realized. I would have blacked out from the G forces, and now, fifteen seconds or so later, I was waking up again.
     The ground was about fifty feet below me, and I saw Crunch's chair brake before plunking onto the ground. I saw her struggle free of the restraints, spin around and pull the microwave cannon off the back of the chair and the survival kit out from under the seat. I did my best to steer and land some-what next to her.
     "That bitch," she said, looking down at me while I undid the seat's harness.
     "Yeah. Damn bastard jettisoned me right after Oops launched you."
     Free from the restrains I spun and mimicked Crunch's act of grabbing the microwave cannon and survival kit. When I stood up she was looking around in the sky, her sun visor down.
     "Any sign of them, ma'am?"
     She shook her head.
     "None. I was hoping to see at least Oops, but it looks like whatever it was jammed both of the front seats."
      I sighed, then growled and kicked what used to be my seat.
     "I bet it was that damn push rod for the nose gear up-lock." I said. "It's a shit design! I kept trying to tell those assholes in safety that if there was an impact from the rear and an angle-"
     "I know, Pants, I know." She said.
     She sighed, lifting her sun visor and turning to me.
     "My quality sensor is toast. I must have hit it on the way out because I was sitting too far forward. What do you have for air?"
     The eye tracking system in my helmet allowed me to look at and wink through menus until I pulled up the external environment sensors on my suit.
     "All good ma'am. A little more nitrogen than standard, but not much. Well within breathable."
     "Thank god."
     She paused for a moment, undoing the internal, computerized lock with her eyes before reaching under her chin and pressing the release. There was a grunt as she pulled it up and began tugging. I know they are tight for a reason, but that doesn't make them any easier to put on or take off. With a final heave it popped free, revealing the head of one disheveled looking perthu. Her rounded ears flared outward from their perch on top of her head, matching the white and tannish-gray fur that stuck out all over the place from where the suit ended just below her jaw to where her short, broad muzzle met the rest of her face.  
     She had the end of her tongue sticking out, giving her quite the comical look. I tried not to laugh as she rearranged her fur into the proper places, the tannish-gray spots reforming as her fur lay down into the stripes so common of my kind that ran from our noses down the length of our bodies. We were fairly similar in that regard, though my stripes were a good bit darker, my muzzle about an inch longer and I stood about a hand-width taller than her.
     When she was done she slung her weapon in front of her and it was my turn. I always hate how it folds your fur back the other way when you take it off. I can see why some people who do a lot of space work like we do shave their bodies just so they don't have to deal with it. I think being shaved would be worse though. Why would anyone want to be naked like that? And then you have to keep shaving or you get all prickly, which you'd have to suffer months of if you ever decided to regrow it. No thanks, I'll happily take a matted coat over that.
     I clipped my helmet to the life support on my back (the damn heavy thing is permanently attached to the suit), moved my microwave cannon from where it had been slung over my shoulder back in front of me, and looked back at Crunch. She was running her tongue in thought over her "grabber" teeth; three rows of pick shaped teeth angled into the mouth that were in front of our knife-like molars.
     "I'm ready, ma'am." I said.
     She started.
     "Oh! Oh, right. Well..."
     She shrugged.
     "I guess we can just find someplace to hide out until they locate the seat beacons and come pick us up."
     "Don't you think this was a little odd though?"
     "How so?"
     "I had no indications before that happened. If that rod jammed the forward seats that meant we had an impact from the rear, not a malfunction."
     "If you're implying that we were attacked then I would have gotten a lock tone, and I didn't. There's only one race out there that has anything that can evade the sensors on an O-66, and they're nowhere around here. Even if that were the case we would be seeing all hell break loose up there."
     She pointed to the sky, and out of reflex I looked up. The sky was a canopy of falling and flaming debris. Others had been hit. Many others. It had taken them time to decay out of orbit, but gravity was winning them over, drawing them down to the surface. Down to their graves. Our linear free-fall had been the only reason Crunch and I had made it to the ground as we did instead of burning up.
     She followed my eyes up and I saw her ears sweep back against her skull, her head ducked and could see her fur stand. Few things were worse than death, and there was a species from Andromeda that specialized in just that if they could get ahold of you. Crunch's reaction might have been unbecoming of an officer, but it was well warranted:
     They were here.
     
     But that had all been... two weeks? A month? Many months? How long was a day on this planet, again? What about the seasons? I shook my head. It didn't matter anymore.
     Now I was laying against the side of a ditch that held about a foot of water and the God knows what in it. Above me two street cars served as funeral pyres for about a dozen people that had been caught in the path of a blast from a mounted microwave cannon. I hoped and prayed that whoever shot that thing thought Crunch and I had perished in the cars and moved on. I couldn't hear over the crackling of the fires, and I couldn't smell anything but burning wood, flaming varnish, melting metal and cremating bodies. I looked over at Crunch. She was laying on her back with her eyes closed, her cannon on her chest. I couldn't tell if she was sleeping or dead, and for the moment I didn't even dare call out her name to find out.
     She had taken a projectile shot for me two days ago. Had she not it would have hit me in the head and I wouldn't be worried about getting caught by those... things. Even though the shot had been from a human weapon and hadn't penetrated her suit it hit between the plating and had done some serious damage to her shoulder. She had trouble moving it, which hindered her ability to fight, and it was getting worse.
     This morning she started running a fever. I gave her all the antibiotics we had in our survival kits, but it only helped a little. If this was a bacteria from Earth, vaccinated as we were, well, there wasn't much either of us could do.
     A dark figure flew under the flaming car above us and skidded down the side of the ditch on their back, stopping just sort of the water. He had one of the long, wood and metal weapons the humans used with shocking effectiveness. He pulled himself up a few inches from the water and began to turn over when he saw me and froze. I didn't move. I figured at this point in time we had a common enemy, and no longer cared about fighting each other until the current crisis was over, but not everyone felt the same.
     A projectile snapped over head. It wasn't from a human. It didn't sound human. My hiding spot had been given away by the newcomer, which meant my rest was over. I popped up just high enough to get my eyes, ears, and barrel of my microwave cannon over the top of the ditch. Even through my fur I could feel the heat of the burning streetcars above me, and I hoped it wasn't singeing my coat. It was becoming more and more appealing to sacrifice sensitive hearing and a nose for the safety of my helmet.
     Looking under the cars I could make out about five figures in front of a building about two hundred yards away. One was giving clear orders to the others, but I couldn't tell if they were human or-
     One of them began walking. Ah. That wasn't a human gait, to awkward, and it wasn't perthu either. I clicked my microwave cannon off safe, past fire, and onto auto. I aimed at the one closest to cover and pulled the trigger. I missed the first three shots, but hit on the fourth, flash boiling and burning away a fist sized hole in him in an instant. There was another FOO FOO FOO to my left; Crunch joining in. We walked our shots in from either side. It wasn't until were almost done that I saw we had missed one.
     He had been just to the side in a shadow, and jumped up and sprinted a moment after Crunch and I stopped. I wasn't fast enough to walk my shots in on him before he could get out of sight, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. I had my cannon over him, clicked the safety off, and-
     An explosion went off beside me, deafening me as she shockwave passed through my body. In front of me the figure's head erupted in a fantastic blast of what I knew had to be bone, blood, and brain. He crumpled. I scanned the area but didn't notice anything, so I chanced a look to my left. Crunch was staring at the human between us. He looked male, young adult, with short dark hair and calico skin. It took me a while to realize that his skin was actually light colored instead of an intricate pattern of black and tan. To say he was filthy was an understatement, but Crunch and I weren't exactly clean either..
     He looked up at me and nodded, which I mimicked, before turning back to his rifle. He grabbed a handle on the side, lifted it, and brought it back, causing a small metal tube to jump out. Then he shoved the handle forward again, pushed it down, and settled behind the sights again.
     I didn't catch his eyes though, so I cautiously leaned in and stole a few sniffs. He was grease, sweat, smoke, blood, dirt and shit. He was also human, and only human. I looked up at Crunch and held a fist up, then opened it. She nodded and relaxed. I rolled onto my back to check behind us in case the noise drew attention. I couldn't smell shit from the behind the streetcar anyway, and it was light enough that a human would have better vision for that area than I did.
     My eyes panned over the rail yard on the other side. There were few lights on in the city around us, a favorite being lanterns where there was one. I saw wires for electricity (or so I presumed), but I hadn't seen anything electrical used. It was probably knocked out by the bombardment, now that I thought about it. The low light at night didn't bother me though, not like it did the humans. What I can't see in detail or distance I make up for with how little light I need.
     I watched someone scramble over the last few sets of tracks on the other side of the yard, look around, and push open the top of a dumpster. I had no doubts that it was a human. The... the former humans didn't have to worry about food. They weren't afraid of being caught, either. Not like that.
     A dark, rectangular object rolled to a silent stop on the road opposite of the yard, near the dumpster. The person, female I think, looked up in shock. Then I saw her posture tighten in horror as she turned to run away, and I recognized the box. It wasn't a human vehicle, despite the generic shape of one. That was a seed truck, and we were far, far worse than dead if those inside of it found us.
     "Shit," I hissed at Crunch. "Seed truck, six o'clock, five hundred yards."
     "God damnit."
     She flipped over and got up to a crouch. She pointed a finger.
     "In there."
     I followed her finger and saw where the ditch ended in a large culvert. It had collapsed about twenty paces in, which would be why the ditch hadn't drained all the nasty water in it. To a human the vacancy probably looked black, which meant to those on the truck it would look black too, along with anything in it.
     I reached over and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. He started to make loud noises as I half dragged him down the culvert and Crunch put her hand over his mouth. The woman across the yard wasn't going to get away by the looks of it, but she wasn't going to go without a fight and was making an awful lot of noise in the process. None of them seemed to have noticed his yelling, so I thanked the poor woman under my breath and hoped she would die quickly instead of them finishing what they were about to do.
     Our own human, I'll call him Boomer from that weapon of his, didn't fight Crunch's hand to my surprise. He looked angry and he smelt scared, but he didn't thrash as I pushed him into the muddy, wet culvert. Crunch shoved his weapon into his chest before grabbing her own muzzle, as if to hold it shut, then pointed to him as she let go of his mouth. He looked shocked, but didn't say anything and simply nodded. She pointed to where the culvert had collapsed and he obeyed, sloshing his way to the back as quietly as he could.
     Crunch and I backed deeper in until we were only a pace or two in front of Boomer and held our weapons at the ready. The sound of our breath was frustratingly loud inside the tunnel, and it was hard to keep from shifting my weight so I wouldn't splash. For some reason it's times like this that my brain comes up with things I think are funny, even if they aren't. I stifled a laugh under my breath.
     " 'the fuck is so funny?" Crunch whispered.
     "At least my feet aren't wet."
     It was her turn to laugh under her breath. I'm glad I'm not the only person who enjoys gallows humor.
     "I don't know if that payoff is worth this suit being so, uh, comfortable." She said.
     I stifled my laughter as I heard a rumble footsteps coming across the yard. There was the noise of boots on gravel, wooded railroad ties, and steel rail. There were a lot of them, too, far more than I could count by hearing. I heard them drop off the gravel and onto the grass before a crackle and thud boomed from the streetcars. We watched as the side of one of the cars came tilting into view before crashing down onto the exact place he had just been laying, pulling a few pieces of the seats, a bag or two, and couple of bodies with it. I watched an armrest and what might have been a head tumble into the ditchwater and extinguish.
     Fantastic! Now we didn't have to worry about them finding and following our footprints.
     The men, about fifteen or so, came to a stop at the edge of the water. They looked at the debris on the opposite bank, the burning cars, the city behind them, and then back at the bank. One man was motioning over to where the bodies of those we had just shot lay, then the burning streetcar side that covered our former position. He looked down the ditch where it followed the tracks in a curve out of sight, then he turned around and stared right at us along with two thirds of the others.
     He stood there, scrutinizing the dark, searching its depths for anything it might hold. We held our breath as time eroded like granite. He must have seen something. We waited and eventually I felt myself needed another breath. He must have been trying to confirm an "I thought I saw," or "I thought I heard,"  and so I crept my cannon off safe and onto fire.
     I was halfway to auto when he shook his head, turned around, and climbed back up the embankment, the others behind him. Mine wasn't the only sigh of relief I heard echo down the culvert. We waited another five minutes, ears straining.
     Crunch sagged suddenly, catching herself on the wall.
     "Are you ok, ma'am?" I said.
     "Yeah." she said. "J-just g-give me a s-second."
     Yeah my ass. She was trembling, her fur was bristled up like she was cold, and she had been smelling ill since this morning.
     There was a hand in my face, and I jerked back out of reflex. Boomer stepped in front of us, and spoke in a low tone as he reached a hand up towards my face. It made me a little uneasy, but since he hadn't tried to hurt us yet I just stared at him. Round, clawless fingers sank into my fur, and then worked their way deeper to my skin. They paused there, and he kept them pressed against my skin while looking at me in thought for a moment before he took his hand away and turned to Crunch. He began talking to her in the same calm, low voice, as if he were trying to sooth her. Crunch had a crash course language training with the rest of the officers on one or two tongues before our deployment. Out of the thousand some odd languages spoken down here maybe there was a chance she had learned a little bit of this one.
     "Any idea what he's saying, ma'am?"
     She batted his hand away.
     "H-he's... he s-says he w-wants t-to take s-something."
     It wasn't hard for me to put things together. Also, was she shivering? Maybe Boomer had seen that.
     "He wants to touch you. He wants to feel how warm you are ma'am. He just did it to me, it's ok."
     She glared at me.
     "I'm fine."
     "Then please give Boomer what he wants, ma'am. The alien's concerned about you, and the last thing we want him to do is start making noise like he did earlier."
     "B-Boomer?"
     "Human. Loud weapon."
     "W-why the h-hell...?"
     I shrugged. Boomer was still standing there watching, with his hands up, showing her his palms. A gesture that I've learned to mean "I don't want to hurt you. See? I'm unarmed."
     "We did save his life, ma'am." I said. "Maybe he feels like he owes us."
     She glared at me. Then she glared at him before turning her head to the side. He reached his hand out and sank his fingers gently into her coat. He didn't linger though, snatching his hand back, his eyes wide. He turned back to me and touched me again before I could react. His tone changed now. It was still low, but it was fast. Almost worried. He said something to me and pointed at her. I stared at him, hoping I made it clear I didn't understand him.
     That didn't bother him though. He went back to Crunch and said something to her. She grumbled.
     "What did he say?"
     "I d-don't f-fucking know. S-something about t-take and find and c-come or whatever. They didn't teach us much."
     The human reached out and grabbed her good wrist off the wall. She nearly fell, but he didn't let go. Instead he started coaxing her in the direction of the end of the culvert. She didn't budge.
     "W-what th-the hell d-do y-you want B-boomer? I'm n-not moving. I know you d-don't like the d-dark, but g-give me a m-minute and we'll get out."
     He stopped tugging, but didn't let go of her. Instead he turned to me. He said a few words while pointing at the spot on my neck where he touched me. Then he ran his fingers in the water, saying something else. Then he pointed at my irritated lieutenant where he had touched her, then out at the streetcar and panted.
     "He knows your sick, ma'am." I said.
     "I am not-"
     Boomer tugged again, interrupting her.
     "He's trying to help, and there's nothing left in the first aid kit for an infection. We know he doesn't want to get caught any more than we do, so what's the worse that happens? Humans shoot us and we die? It'll be faster than sepsis and better than getting caught and brought to a seed truck."
     She sighed and allowed herself to be pulled slowly forward. Once she began walking on her own he let go and began leading us through a maze of streets, buildings, and tunnels.
     
     It was nearing daybreak by the time he lead us to a small, makeshift apartment in what might have been an office building at one time. Or hospital. Or school. Or anything, now that I think of it. All the other rooms that I saw in the building were trashed and I had no clue what to make of the debris from this culture. I didn't notice anything I would recognize as a bed.
     A large, older man answered the door before Boomer even touched it. He laid eyes on Crunch and me and immediately launched into a heated argument with Boomer. Boomer began talking very animatedly, pointing to Crunch and myself over and over again until he finished several minutes later. By the time he had, however, the man's expression had changed. He sighed, said something to us, and motioned for us to enter. The moment we stepped through the door I heard my Lieutenant's voice behind me. The movement seemed to have made her feel better, at least for the moment.
     "Clear the area." Crunch said. "Make sure everyone here is only human."
     "Yes ma'am."
     They were not happy about that. She immediately snatched Boomer's rifle from him and blocked the door, preventing anyone from leaving. All of the humans in the place started shouting and running around as I went from room to room, human to human, grabbing each one and smelling them for the parasite, checking their eyes for a shimmer and neck for a scar. Boomer was pulling and making loud noises at me, trying to get me to stop.
     After the third person (and about the fifth time I had stopped and thrown him off of me) he perked up like he noticed something. He stopped yelling and trying to stop me and instead ran to my next target: a younger female -older juvenile I think- who was curled up in a corner looking up at me with a scrunched up face and water leaking out her eyes. She made a noise that sounded like she was injured or dying slowly. She stank of fear.
     Boomer started hauling her to her feet as I approached, cannon raised, just like I had the rest of them. Boomer had her standing, and was speaking to her quickly in a quiet, smooth voice. She was shaking, and looked as if she were about to fall onto the ground. Boomer pushed her to turn, and she did, putting her hands on the wall above her as the rest of her shook like a broken flywheel.
     That made things easy. I pushed her hair to see no scar, gave her a quick sniff, and then grabbed her arm to turn her around. Instead of turning, though, she put it behind her back and started sobbing. Was there a meaning to this I was missing?
     So I grabbed her other arm at the wrist. She made to pull it behind her as well, but I forced it in front of her, causing her to turn. When she was around I lifted her chin. Terrified eyes reluctantly met mine. Terrified human eyes. I patted her on the head and moved on to my next target: an older woman whom Boomer had brought into the hall and had in the same position. This one didn't smell like fear though. This one smelt like crushed plants and starch and oil and alcohol. And she sounded like Captain Thort did right after she woke up in the morning... I don't think she was happy.
     There were about ten humans living in a crowded space that consisted of a two bedrooms, a small room used for storing... the smells are strange, but I think it's food, a few smaller storage areas, a small room for relieving and cleaning yourself (primitive, but better than nothing and a welcome change from having the suit's interface shoved into...) There's a kitchen that's about the same size as one of the sleeping rooms and a living space that's about twice that size.
     One of the sleeping rooms had a bed that held two humans. The woman from the hallway and her mate, a man who had trouble walking, slept in it if the scents in the room said anything about it. The older man (younger than the man who had trouble walking) who answered the door was Boomer's father, and he slept in the small bed in the other sleeping room (there was a lot of stuff piled up around in there, too). I think Boomer had a mat on the floor next to the bed that he slept on. Another couple slept on the large bed that had been crammed in there.
     There was a mother and father and a kit(not theirs) that clung to them. They all slept on the floor in the living room. Two scents, related to Boomer, were not accounted for. They might have been recent casualties, or they were out. I tried not to trip over a couple of rolls I assumed were bedding as I made my way back to report to Crunch.
     "All clear ma'am. No hostiles."
     "Good. Make sure nobody comes in unless I approve it."
     "Yes ma'am. And if you're not here and Boomer says they need in?"
     "Clear them before letting them enter and let me know ASAP, obviously."
     "Yes ma'am."
     The older woman came over with Boomer. They went back and forth, both pointing to each of us as they spoke. The frown and glare she shot at me wasn't echoed with Crunch. She kept tossing her head and shaking it as their conversation got more and more intense. Boomer finally huffed and reached towards my neck. The man-who-might-be-his-father yelled and dove at Boomer, shoving him away. He backed Boomer into a corner and began making all sorts of angry noises at him.
     "Ma'am, may I-?"
     "Deal with them, Corporal."
     "Yes ma'am."
     I took a few brisk steps of to them and ripped probably-his-father away. Boomer made a few sounds I didn't understand, but they sounded triumphant. I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back into the middle of the room. I made eye contact with probably-father, then the older woman, and pushed his hand into the fur on my neck at the spot he was reaching for- the same spot he had felt my temperature.
     A smile sprouted on his face as I let go. He held his hand there and said something to the woman, who replied and shook her head. He said something more, took her hand and guided it towards my neck. She followed, but her demeanor had gone from grumpy to worried, very worried. She followed Boomer's tug, but her fearful eyes were frozen on me.
     I tried to appear non-threatening. I relaxed my ears and my stance. I decided to ignore her and look at the others. The old man who had trouble walking had taken a seat in a chair by a large, wood table in the kitchen and was watching with interest. The mated couple were beside him, the man wrapping an arm around the woman. Their child peered out from behind his leg. The juvenile girl was a pair of eyes peering from within the hall around the corner.
     As I felt fingers push through the fur on my neck the child stretched her head out a little further from behind her father's legs, squinted her eyes, and stuck out her tongue. She made a long noise that wasn't quite a moan and not a grunt, and with the noise I saw the eyes of both of her parents go wide and freeze on me. Their bodies locked up, with the exception of his hand, which he used in vain to try and move his daughter behind him.
     Playfullness. It had been so long I could barely resist. I have a spirit shared by most of my fellow engineers and maintainers that makes it difficult to turn down an invitation like this. So, before Crunch could warn me not to, I squinted my eyes, stuck out my much longer tongue, and made the 'nnnnnnuuuuuuuuu' sound back.
     There was a yelp next to me and the woman jerked away, holding her hand as if something had bitten her as she stared at me with a terrified expression. The little girl darted back behind her father as he breathed a sigh of relief. Boomer looked puzzled and slightly worried.
     "What the fuck are you doing, Corporal?!" Crunch said.
     Uh oh.
     "Trying to defuse the situation, ma'am?" I said.
     "By scaring people?"
     "That was an accident. I'm making mimicking a child that's making faces at me."
     "What? How is that-"
     The little girl popped her head back around from behind her father, scrunched up her face, pressed her thumb to her nose, and wiggled her fingers.
     "Bo bo bo bo boooo"
     I mimicked her, including the little head shake she did. She became bolder, stepping out from behind his legs. Her thumbs went into her ears, her tongue cam back out, and she blew air out of her lips, making a 'Thpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpb' sound while wiggling her fingers. I had trouble not laughing.
     To mimic that, however, I would need to take my hand off of my cannon grip. It was something I've trained not to do since enlisting, as it could leave us vulnerable.
     "Ma'am-?" I said.
     I heard a sigh.
     "Do it."
     "Yes ma'am."
     And so I did my best rendition. Not having overdeveloped cheeks like hers I had to modify it slightly: I blew the air out of the sides of my short muzzle, fluttering my lips and giving a wetter version of the noise she made. She thought it was hilarious.
     I grabbed my cannon again and looked around the room. The atmosphere was still alert, but had relaxed. The overtone of fear was gone and replaced with healthy caution. I felt fingers at my neck again, and ignored them. Then they left.
     "They're going to want to feel your skin again, ma'am." I said.
     "Damnit."
     "They want to help you, ma'am."
     "I know that! Bah! Fine, Boomer and... whoever the fuck your ugly face it. Be quick. And if you pull any of my fur out I'll rip your fingers off."
     They stopped as she spoke, but Boomer urged the woman on after she had stopped, ignoring the glare from Crunch. I turned my attention back to the girl, which was a terrible mistake.
     She yawned.
     Apparently they are just as contagious here as they are back home, because soon other humans were doing it too. I don't know about them, but I know Crunch and I have both been running very low on sleep for a few weeks now.
     So I yawned too.
     The girl made a scared noise and retreated behind her father again. Everyone was staring at me wide eyed, including Boomer. There wasn't the attitude of fear like there was earlier, more like floor thumping shock.
     There was a pause. I heard Crunch yawn behind and beside me, and eyes went from me to her, but expressions didn't change. Boomer was the first to move, walking up to me and lifting my lip. He made a noise that was almost comical.
     "Hooooleeeshit!"
     Probably-father was there in a flash, yanking Boomer away. He returned, speaking fast and soft with his hands pressed together in front of his chest. Apologizing? I don't blame him for being worried. We have evolved for killing things and eating them. Humans clearly did not.
     Tensions dropped after the older woman got up the nerve to stick something in our mouths. Boomer made it clear that we weren't to bite it by an exaggerated pantomime. He also wanted me to stick it under my tongue. Hah.
     With how my teeth are positioned I didn't think I could both with that fragile thing, so I simply held it lightly with my grabbers and gently wrapped my tongue around it. They just stood there a while, as if they were waiting for me to do something. Then they wanted the glass stick back. They looked at it. The woman nodded, shook it, and moved my irritable lieutenant. Were they using me as a base line for Crunch?
     She listened to my chest after doing the same to Boomer, clearly to show me what she wanted to do and assure me she that she wasn't going to hurt me. I knew they weren't. And I tolerated the prodding and feeling because I knew if we were to get any help from them we would have to convince them that we were harmless despite our appearance, even if nothing could be farther from the truth. After that I had to convince Crunch, and letting them do it to me first was probably the only thing I could do that would be productive.
     There hadn't been any fighting, which was the major concern of mine. So far they had taken Boomer's word that we weren't a threat, but even if they changed their minds and did try to harm me I wasn't worried. I was slightly larger than them, wearing an armored spacesuit, carrying a microwave cannon that still had 7/8 of its energy pack life left, and had teeth and claws designed to kill things. They had none of those.
     Eventually the woman had touched and poked and stuck things in our mouths enough and walked away into a back room, beckoning others to follow her. Crunch and I stayed by the door, turning around and facing it. These people might know nothing about security but we did, and weren't about to get caught playing Shrink the Pooka in the buff. I had one ear behind me, and my nose and other ear in front of me.
     Boomer followed the woman about half way through the kitchen before noticing that we weren't moving and came back. He didn't say or do anything except pick up his weapon from where I had leaned it against a cushioned chair and stood in front of the door with us. I'm getting the feeling he sees himself in a specific role in this group, he's just naive on how to fill it.
     I heard the door to the stairwell opened on the opposite side of the building, or so I thought. I flicked my other ear forward to try and locate whatever made the sound. Sure enough, there were foot steps, at least two pairs walking down the same halls Boomer had lead us down.
     Crunch and I looked at each other and I felt adrenalin flood my system. No words needed to be said as we scanned the room for the heaviest, most solid thing we could move and our eyes both landed on the wooden table.
     Boomer simply stood off to the side, staring in bewilderment as we dumped it over. Crunch grabbed one side with her good arm and I lifted the other. We dragged it in front of the door before standing it on end, shoving it into position so that whoever came in would have to change direction before entering the living room. Crunch crouched behind it, her cannon poking around the side at the door. I planted myself against the wall past the opening. I'd be the first, and possibly last, thing they would see when they came in.
     Footsteps were louder. I searched for heartbeats.
     "At least two, ma'am. Maybe more."
     "I have two. Not throwing out three."
     Boomer still stood where he had been, brow furrowed and weapon held loosely in front of him. Oh no, buddy, if you're going to take this job seriously being an open target isn't in the description. I grabbed him and roughly pulled him behind me and into my suit's life support pack. Then I pointed his weapon along side me and at the door. He seemed to get the picture, because he hunched down and the muzzle raised up and pointed roughly chest height at the door.
     There was a knock. A clear pattern before a pause. How cute, a secret knock. They must have been oblivious to the fact that once they got ahold of you they knew everything you knew, including secret knocks.
     Boomer made some noises at me. Similar noises were made from the kitchen, where a stolen glance told me most of the humans had gone to, likely to investigate what we were doing with their table. We did nothing.
     Boomer made more noises and started to come around me, so I pushed him back into his place and brought his rifle up again. He held it in place, but started yelling. There were voices on the other side of the door, and the people in the kitchen started yelling things and coming towards the door. Crunch twisted and snarled at them, pushing at them with her free hand and then pointing at the floor.
     "GET BACK AND GET DOWN!"
     They stopped yelling. I didn't have to see to know she had shown teeth before saying anything. I saw the juvenile girl scrunch up her face again, put her hands up and slowly lay down on the ground. Crunch pointed at the others, then again her.
     "That works!" She said. "Get like her!"
     There were voices at the door again, but this time (thankfully!) everyone stayed silent. I could hear two different voices, two sets of feet shuffling, and two heartbeats. One sounded deeper and heavier and larger than the other. Male and female? Adult and juvenile?
     "I have two," Crunch said.
     "Same."
     The knock pattern was repeated, and there was a quiet pause. Crunch glared behind her to keep them quiet before resuming her sights on the door. I heard the deeper voice say something and heavier foot steps started walking back down the hall. The higher voice began to argue. The heavy foot steps stopped and the deeper voice argued back.
     Something grated in the door, the door handle turned, and the deeper voice barked a warning as the door swung open. A female human felt herself facing the table. She made some more noises, like she was calling out to someone and turned to come into the room.
     Then she saw me, and her skin turned a very light color. I smelt fear. She made a similar sound to what Boomer made earlier, only much quieter.
     "Ohholyshit..."
     "Hands on your head and get on your knees," I said, doing my best to sound commanding without yelling.
     She didn't, and I didn't expect her to. Instead she spun to leave and Crunch grabbed her by the neck. The female shrieked as Crunch jerked her into the room, spun her around and pinned her to the wall with her cannon.
     The man barked again and I heard him start running towards the door while Boomer started talking quickly to the woman. Maybe he was reassuring her. He didn't move from his position though. I smiled inside. A fast learner. He has promise. As for the woman: she didn't seem as panicked when she saw that he was in position behind me. Or maybe it was because of his talking. I dunno.
     The man was yelling, almost at the door. The lady Crunch had pinned to the wall yelled something back until Crunch clamped a hand over her mouth. The man made four distinct sounds and Boomer exploded in noises, yelling something over and over again. A warning? The foot steps skidded to a halt. He said something that had an inflection I was beginning to think indicated a question. Boomer lowered his voice to talking loudly. There was a short reply, and then silence.
     A hand popped around the door holding something and I clicked my cannon off safe. Boomer began saying something like he was trying to sooth me. The hand placed whatever it was on the floor and slid it towards me. A bomb?
     My heart pounded.
     Boomer wasn't worried though. I watched out of the corner of my eye as it came to rest in front of me. It was short, had a miniature barrel like Boomer's weapon, a hand grip and a finger trigger. A weapon. He had given me his weapon. My cannon went back on safe, but my finger stayed on the trigger.
     "Put your hands on your head and step through the door," I said, mimicking the motion with my free hand. Just as I had hoped Boomer took my cue, said something, and soon the man stepped through the door with his hands on his head. He, too, became a little pale at the sight of me. I waited a few seconds, listening. The two new heartbeats were the only new things I could hear.
     "No more," I said.
     "No more," Crunch echoed.
     I tapped Boomer on the shoulder and pointed at the door. He put his rifle down, darted around me, and pushed the door closed, turning a lever above the handle. I stepped forwards towards the man as Boomer started talking to him, the same thing he had been saying to the others while I was clearing the apartment.
     The man earlier wasn't Boomer's father. This was Boomer's father. It had to be, he smelt like it.  The man smelt afraid, too, but appeared like he wasn't it as he looked me in the eyes, standing relaxed while I sniffed him, and obediently turned around when I positioned him.
     "No passengers here, ma'am." I patted him on the head so he would know I was done.
     "Good. Now get this one, stuff is coming out of her nostrils and getting my hand wet. Eyes and scent are good- it's idiot's mother. Check her for a scar."
     She pulled the lady off the wall and rotated with her until back was facing me, keeping her cannon pressed against her chest the whole time. I moved her hair to the side to look at her neck.
     "She's clear"
     Crunch abruptly let her go and patted her on her head. The lady stumbled and promptly collapsed into the cushioned chair. I waved my hands upwards and the people in the kitchen responded how I hoped: they started getting up. Crunch and I sat on the floor in our positions by the door, Boomer joining us. These people knew nothing about security, and so until they learned or we left it was Crunch or me that would have to perform the task.
     She was shivering again, clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. It wasn't long until her cannon was in her lap and she held her knees to her chest. She tried to look fine, like she was just doing that because she felt like it, but it's a difficult thing to do when you're shaking so hard your knees are knocking into each other.
     It didn't take long for the all of the adults except the old man with the walking problem to come over. They eyed Crunch and me warily before launching into an argument with Boomer. There was a lot of pointing at us, the juvenile, the little girl, and Boomer. I had a feeling they wanted us gone, but nobody was going to try and shove a pair of heavily armed, carnivorous, military aliens out of the door. Which was fine by me.
     Crunch's shivering got violent. Much so to the point where the juvenile woman brought her a blanket, creeping up to dump it into Crunch's lap before scurrying away. Much to my surprise she took it and wrapped it around herself.
     "You doing ok?"
     "F-f-fucking f-fine. J-just a l-l-little c-cold."
     I was damn near panting.
     "Just checking."
     Our conversation drew the attention of the humans who looked first at Crunch with the blanket, then back at the juvenile in the kitchen, who shrugged and shrank back, then back at Boomer. Boomer pointed at Crunch, then his shoulder, then his neck, then at me, all while talking. The older woman sighed, nodded, said a few words, and the party broke.
     
     It was a hassle trying to get Crunch to take her suit off. She didn't feel right being undressed and unarmed around "the enemy". Boomer unbuttoned his shirt in front of us and flapped it, pointing at her. She got the picture alright, she just wasn't going to do it. I finally got fed up and took my suit off. It's not like it was too cold in there, not when you take care of yourself and your fur doesn't look like greasy seaweed. The suit didn't have many pockets, either, which is the only reason anyone wore clothes back home outside of pure fashion. I still think it's funny that these creatures feel they can't show certain parts of themselves. Then again, what they cover with cloth you can't see through our thick fur. Maybe it would be different if we didn't have... no. I already earned one callsign, and I don't even want to think about things that might earn me another.
     I sat down across from her with my cannon across my lap and stared at her.
     "Corporal, your suit is your armor-"
     "If you let them help you, ma'am, I'll put mine back on."
     "Don't make any rescue we might get become bittersweet with insubordination charges. Last I checked I was the officer here, and that was three milliseconds ago. I will punish you for insubordination, end of the world or not. Put. Your. Suit. On."
     "If that infection kills you it won't matter what you are, ma'am. Please don't hang me out to dry because of your pride. I won't respect you any less if you need help, but if you lie to yourself about needing it and I suffer because of stupid pride then I make no promises."
     She glared at me.
     "Put your armor back on and cover the entryway, corporal."
     "Yes ma'am."
     I nodded and quickly pulled mine back on, picked up my cannon, took a position just inside the front door. Behind me I heard movement and the clunk of a life support pack as it was set on the ground. Thank god, you would think I was asking her to divulge her darkest secrets and then go roll in sewage. I shook my head. Officers. No, scratch that. Just Crunch.
      A few minutes later I heard them lead her deeper into the apartment and the creek of what was probably (and hopefully) a bed.
     "All good?" I said.
     "Yes! Don't let your guard down!"
      I settled into my spot. Eventually Boomer came up and wanted something. He danced around waving and pantomiming for a few minutes until he snatched a hat off a table and hurled it at the ground, growling. I thought for a few moment and took a guess, opened the back hatch on Crunch's life support and pulled out what was left of her first aid kit. I handed him the kit and he turned it over in his hands, confused, so I opened it for him. He pawed through the case for a second before realizing what it was. His eyes grew wide and he let out a happy noise before darting into the back.
     I don't know what they did back there. She says they stabbed her with a bunch of very thick needles that had who knows what in them. They cut her on her shoulder and drained a bunch of puss out, and then cut her leg, too, on another spot above her knee that she had been hiding from me, with the same results. It turns out she had tried to hid that spot from them, too, but yelped when someone pushed on it on accident. Then the doctor did a lot of poking and prodding after she found out she hadn't been showing them her injuries to make sure those were the only places.
     I asked her how they treated her when they were done. She said "they're nothing but cruel, sadistic assholes," which coming from Lt. Kispund might as well mean "She was nothing but a lady. Her professionalism is exactly what a doctor's should be." I had fun comparing it to all the stuff she's said about our squadron's medical staff. I think Book used to send her to "have that checked out" just for the entertainment when she came back.
     The thing she was the most upset about though? -they shaved around the area they cut.

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