Field Surgery
The average Yeerk recon vessel was either a spare Bug Fighter or one of the faster, less well-armed ships adapted from them. Either way, it wasn’t built for more than two occupants. The fact that she could fit in because her host was so much smaller than the Hork-Bajir and Taxxon they now shared space with was not remotely a comfort.
“I can’t believe Skrit Na thought they could double-cross us,” Kilgam fumed at the weapons station. He bent his bladed head around to shoot a glance at Telrim. “That is not a regular occurrence. You understand?”
Telrim nodded and focused on watching the monitors for Andalite pursuit. She was just a visitor, tagging along on this recon mission to offer her ‘expert’ opinion (if Visser Twenty-eight had intentions for cross-training or a performance review, she wasn’t privy to them).
“I think they were too stupid to notice the tracker. You didn’t have to eat their leader,” she added with a look at their pilot. Arfesh didn’t look up from his controls. She didn’t push it. He might still be trying to control his hunger.
“Not a good sign that the Andalites are watching your activities though,” she said to Kilgam.
He knew well enough. “One of you got the control module, right?” He sounded rightly concerned.
“Ask your friend. The Skrit Na was holding it last I saw.” Just before she’d gone looking for human artefacts among the displayed junk and spotted an outline that didn’t belong on the Skrit ship…
They turned and looked at the Taxxon. After a minute he licked the air and hissed in mangled Galard, “We have it.”
“Good,” said Kilgam automatically. Then he stopped, expression changing as he figured it out. Telrim used a human word that only Natasha understood.
“I suppose we can get it out when we return to the Blade ship,” he said slowly.
“That equipment has delicate components,” Telrim pointed out, frowning. “Exposed components, remember? It looked like they’d just pulled it out of the housing.”
“Very well. You can get it out.” Kilgam looked at the screen. “It appears to be clear. Once we have enough velocity kill the engines and we’ll coast for a while.”
Kilgam’s turn to be stared at. Arfesh squirmed around in the confined space, hissing an especially incoherent question at him.
Telrim echoed it. “Just what do you want me to do?”
“What do you think?” Kilgam answered his partner first. Then, “I’ll hold him while you get it out.”
“Oh, just great.” Telrim wanted to argue that he was the one with the regenerating host. But he was in charge of the mission, he had the bigger, sharper body, and it wasn’t like she could hold a gore-crazed Taxxon down if she wanted to. Especially not the way Kilgam was scraping his wrist blades against his knees’. Just to make Arfesh tap his claws and lick the air crazily.
“You have protective gear for engine repairs?” They’d better have, she’d used it before for handling really questionable Skrit Na ‘goods’.
Kilgam waved her toward the compartments in the back of the tiny vessel. “Same place as ever. But I don’t think they’ll fit those little human limbs.”
“They don’t need to.” She went to dig through them for gloves. Better brace yourself, Natasha. It’s not going to be pretty in there.
Speaking from experience?
Unfortunately… yes.
“I can’t believe Skrit Na thought they could double-cross us,” Kilgam fumed at the weapons station. He bent his bladed head around to shoot a glance at Telrim. “That is not a regular occurrence. You understand?”
Telrim nodded and focused on watching the monitors for Andalite pursuit. She was just a visitor, tagging along on this recon mission to offer her ‘expert’ opinion (if Visser Twenty-eight had intentions for cross-training or a performance review, she wasn’t privy to them).
“I think they were too stupid to notice the tracker. You didn’t have to eat their leader,” she added with a look at their pilot. Arfesh didn’t look up from his controls. She didn’t push it. He might still be trying to control his hunger.
“Not a good sign that the Andalites are watching your activities though,” she said to Kilgam.
He knew well enough. “One of you got the control module, right?” He sounded rightly concerned.
“Ask your friend. The Skrit Na was holding it last I saw.” Just before she’d gone looking for human artefacts among the displayed junk and spotted an outline that didn’t belong on the Skrit ship…
They turned and looked at the Taxxon. After a minute he licked the air and hissed in mangled Galard, “We have it.”
“Good,” said Kilgam automatically. Then he stopped, expression changing as he figured it out. Telrim used a human word that only Natasha understood.
“I suppose we can get it out when we return to the Blade ship,” he said slowly.
“That equipment has delicate components,” Telrim pointed out, frowning. “Exposed components, remember? It looked like they’d just pulled it out of the housing.”
“Very well. You can get it out.” Kilgam looked at the screen. “It appears to be clear. Once we have enough velocity kill the engines and we’ll coast for a while.”
Kilgam’s turn to be stared at. Arfesh squirmed around in the confined space, hissing an especially incoherent question at him.
Telrim echoed it. “Just what do you want me to do?”
“What do you think?” Kilgam answered his partner first. Then, “I’ll hold him while you get it out.”
“Oh, just great.” Telrim wanted to argue that he was the one with the regenerating host. But he was in charge of the mission, he had the bigger, sharper body, and it wasn’t like she could hold a gore-crazed Taxxon down if she wanted to. Especially not the way Kilgam was scraping his wrist blades against his knees’. Just to make Arfesh tap his claws and lick the air crazily.
“You have protective gear for engine repairs?” They’d better have, she’d used it before for handling really questionable Skrit Na ‘goods’.
Kilgam waved her toward the compartments in the back of the tiny vessel. “Same place as ever. But I don’t think they’ll fit those little human limbs.”
“They don’t need to.” She went to dig through them for gloves. Better brace yourself, Natasha. It’s not going to be pretty in there.
Speaking from experience?
Unfortunately… yes.