Chapter Text
The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 12: Saving Trader Pel
7.12
Saving Trader Pel
Neither Lance Corporal Petra Spitze nor PFC Raanda Habib could understand the harsh screeching noises made by the eadh, nor the whining, yowling noises made by the oeast, although they clearly seemed to understand each other. However, as harsh and alien their vocalizations, the body language of the new intruders was clear, furtive moves, slippers and cloaks offered by the oeast…
This was a jail break.
Raanda had the presence of mind to inform their fellow marines, unseen in an adjoining room, with a quick series of knocks, before accepting the new clothing and allowing herself, along with Spike, to be rushed out of their makeshift cell. The oeast demonstrated how to use the hoods that came with the cloaks, then activated and handed each of the two, now cloaked marines, a broach.
On attaching these broaches to their cloaks, both Spike and Raanda suddenly found that the alien screeching and yowling resolved into plain English:
“We must rescue the teacher,” the eadh said.
“Our friends are in the next room,” Raanda said as they exited the cell. Her heart dropped as she realized that the adjoining cell containing the male marines was still separated by a wall.
“We can’t get there from here,” responded one of the oeast. “It would take more than an hour, time we don’t have, to find a corridor that leads to that compartment.”
“You’re too tall,” the second oeast said to Raanda. “Hunch down or you’ll get noticed. Both of you.”
It was only now registering with the two young marines, as they hunched and allowed their rescuers to lead them through a twisting maze of what were clearly back and maintenance corridors, that both their oeast rescuers and the eadh who seemed to be leading them were females.
Raanda pointed at her broach. “These must be some sort of universal translators.”
“Yes,” responded one of the oeast. “You have spoken enough since your arrival that the Roundabout language matrix was able to add your language and update our translators with it. It was also able to identify the teacher’s language - a derivative of the language of the teachers…”
The eadh stopped them. “The teacher is in a room just ahead. She is damaged and in trauma. One of you will need to carry her. I will tranquilize her.”
“I’m bigger and stronger than you, Spike,” said Raanda. “I’ll carry Pel. Besides, if there’s any fighting, you’re the better fighter, so we need to keep your hands free.”
“If you are a good fighter, I may need your help,” said the eadh. “There will be at least one guard in there with her.” She held up a simple looking device. “Electronic key.”
“Unlock the door and wait for the guard to investigate,” said Spike.
The eadh fluffed her feathers and clacked her beak-like mouth twice.
“That means ‘yes’,” whispered one of the oeast women.
Spike and the eadh took up positions on either side of the door. The eadh activated her device, the door unlocked and opened just slightly.
A moment later, a curious oeast guard opened the door to look out into the hall, only to be yanked out into the hall by the eadh and slammed into a wall. Twice. After the third violent encounter with the wall, the guard slid to the floor, unconscious. At that same moment, a second guard rushed out, only to be caught painfully between the door and the door frame as Spike slammed the heavy, metal door on him. He, too, slid senseless to the deck.
The only weapons the guards carried were heavy, metal batons. The eadh handed one of these to one of the oeast. Spike armed herself with the other and opened the door wide. She hurled the baton into the room, and followed it, slamming into a third guard who had ducked to avoid the baton, only to be completely unprepared for a full body assault by a very pissed off U.S. Marine.
Spike grabbed the guard’s head fur with both hands, bending him down as her knee came up into his chest, then sent him stumbling, bent over, across the room, where he encountered another very pissed off marine… Raanda delivered two solid jabs to the side of his head and he dropped, unconscious, to the floor.
The eadh was already to a shocked and still wailing Pel. She made some squawking noises that might have been her species’ equivalent of a shushing noise, as she uncapped a small bottle and held it under the distressed ferengi’s nose.
“Oh, Pel…” Randa started, then realized that the tiny, completely naked ferengi was not what she had expected… “You’re a… girl??”
“Pick her up and let’s get her out of here,” Spike ordered. “Rescue now. Questions later.”
PFC Raanda Habib picked the tiny, now unconscious ferengi up into a fireman’s carry. Spike helped her drape her cloak around Pel as they quickly exited the room.
“I hope you have a retreat strategy,” Raanda said.
In response, the eadh unlocked several doors, then backtracked to take one of the revealed corridors.She unlocked a second door in this corridor and one of the oeast locked it behind the group as they scurried down this narrow tube, occasionally having to pass Pel back and forth to get through extremely narrow passages.
It took nearly an hour before they ended up entering through what appeared a rear entrance to a room filled with eadh and a few oeast. These were clearly group quarters and Raanda was finally able to lay Pel on a bed in a back room. She stayed with the tiny, unconscious ferengi, along with yet another oeast, this one male, who began treating the wounds on Pel’s head, neck and face where the prosthetic ears that had made her appear to be male had been anchored.
Spike remained in the outer room with the group of eadh warriors. One of these provided her some clothing, which she pulled on under her cloak. It was rather tight.
“The largest clothing we could find for you,” apologized one of the oeast. “You marines are much, much larger than our people and you’re constructed a little differently. I’m sorry we weren’t able to retrieve any of your clothing or possessions.”
The eadh warrior who had rescued Spike, now brought her some water. “I am Nalancessel. You have met my grandfather. How is the teacher?”
“His... Her name is Pel,” said Spike. “And I really don’t know. What did you give her?”
“A mild sedative,” Nalancessel replied. “She should wake within the next hour. My grandfather told me to keep an eye on the teacher to keep her from harm. There are many religious factions here. You and your friends were captured by a warrior faction. We were unable to rescue the others. They will be made to fight each other in the ring. I can only hope they don’t fight like you just did. The punishments for breaking the sacred rules of the ring are quite harsh…”
7.12