by Marcha Fox
Chapter 2
IT WAS STANDARD OPERATING procedure for Sapphirans to include a flora peda telepathis onboard for any jaunts through space. After all, there was no love lost between Thyron's species and human beings so the pygmies' cannibalistic lifestyle didn't bother them in the slightest. Furthermore, galactic law granted every species the right to defend itself and its position within the food chain. Invading other planets, of course, was another situation entirely, but Thyron marginalized it sufficiently to ignore.
Space travel represented the ultimate synergy between vegemals and the subhuman race with whom they shared a planet, described by his fellows as a bonding experience extraordinaire. Sapphirans enjoyed excellent eye-hand coordination courtesy of their weapons expertise, necessary for hunting the massive slugs, worms and occasional insects they consumed as part of their carnivorous lifestyle. Previously they'd learned to ride massive dragonflies until they'd realized they were much more palatable than slugs, after which they'd hunted them to extinction.
While the pygmies' flying experience was easily transferred to piloting a spacecraft, their limited mental capacity precluded any ability for repairs or choosing a destination via the navigation system. Thyron's ancestors had investigated that first ill-fated craft and discerned every detail of how it worked and eventually repaired it, introducing the Sapphiran's to space travel. This followed its natural course and eventually led to hunting human prey on other worlds.
This, of course, violated a plethora of treaties and agreements between civilized worlds, but while galactic authorities had plenty of suspicions, they lacked sufficient evidence to do anything more than suspect the Sapphirans' unfriendly agenda. Thus the Hostii Intergalactic Organization, commonly known as the HIO, directed its energies elsewhere. If their planet were more hospitable, it probably would have been colonized, but that was exactly what caused Carnelia to be in a constant state of war as other depleted planets sought its resources.
Having a willing pool of master mechanics who didn't object to off-world travel much less their rather gorey mission statement was already a spacefaring individual's dream, but it got even better. In addition to their engineering abilities the flora peda telepathis could perceive photons of all frequencies in a single omni-directional, multi-dimensional sweep. This assured the renegade space travelers avoidance of real-time hazards such as gamma ray bursts, stars going nova, cosmic rays or conversely the absence of light indicative of blackholes to say nothing of radar detection.
As Thyron and a crew of six natives readied for their journey, he was duly surprised by what awaited them on the ship. He was the only one who appreciated the fact the humans had named the spacecraft Cerulean Nimrod, which translated to Blue Hunter, something that had no meaning whatsoever to the illiterate Sapphirans who didn't even have a spoken language. He explored the flight deck with its colorful array of lights, though Thyron derived information relative to the ship's status directly from emissions from the avionics bay. A detailed set of procedures for executing their contract liabilities was embedded as a checklist on the ship's roster, including instructions for activating the return trip. A locker opposite the view screen contained environmental suits properly sized for Sapphirans as well as a cache of simple weapons.
He paused, once more contemplating the risks. Without instructions the Sapphirans wouldn't have a clue, making him even more culpable for any dastardly deeds. An herbaceous blast of deja-vu jolted through him of awaiting vistas and fated encounters for which his progeny would forever thank him. Thus, with a verdant sigh he let the ominous promptings go, informed the crew to secure themselves for takeoff and initiated the launch sequence. Moments later Sapphira receded to a dot and disappeared, the vastness of space and innumerable stars before them.
The Sapphirans appeared on deck, making sounds and gestures related to hunger. Thyron padded over to the stowage locker where he'd found a stash of provisions which consisted of several dehydrated substances compressed into a convenient-sized bar that humans referred to as genour. While all a vegemal needed was light and water, at least for short jaunts, the pygmies needed nourishment which it would supply and thus save them the trouble of bringing along desiccated versions of their usual rations. He opened the locker and a dozen eager hands reached inside and snatched a handful. The crew was ecstatic at the exciting flavors represented, considering their usual diet was bland at best and slimy at worst.
However, their total lack of comprehension with regard to the passing of time, typical of indigenous races who lived in the perpetual now, meant they happily consumed the entire inventory by the second day of an eight day voyage.
This of course resulted in a cranky crew whose only restraint from abandoning the mission and returning to Sapphira was based on what they expected to find on Verdaris. Thyron had sensed another food source preserved in an electronic preservation device somewhere below, but saw no point in revealing its existence. Only if things got totally out of hand would he do so because if their intended mission failed for any reason they'd definitely need something to sustain them for the trip home.
But there was little reason for it to fail. From the information provided, both overtly and covertly, it was likely the person stranded on this doomed planet would beg for off-world passage, probably blissfully unaware that their fate onboard the Cerulean Nimrod was likely to be worse than what they'd suffer from a cometary collision.
When that first spacecraft had crash-landed on Sapphira a few centuries before, a memory passed on to Thyron in vast detail by his great-grandfather, his progenitor and his Sapphiran subjects had been horrified to witness the savagery of the craft's human survivor when a day or so after impact he'd emerged from his crippled craft and murdered then consumed a flora peda telepathis named Phorgon in a horrific, herbivorous frenzy. They'd assumed the victim had wandered to the crash site to garner information from the ship's emissions.
Obviously that particular vegemal had inferior DNA which caused him to miss the part about the ship's occupant being alive much less a ruthless herbivore, which was duly noted by his grieving brethren. It was too late to save Phorgon, but, outraged by this sacrilege, Thyron's ancestor jammed the electronics of the ship's hatch to eliminate the man's only escape route, allowing the angry mob to impale the offender with a dozen or so arrows, ending the man's violent life in a suitably karmic manner.
Sapphiran funerals employed the usual funeral pyre favored by primitive cultures, but this murderer was not deemed worthy of such an honor so the man's body was thrown atop a raging fire built from trees who'd succumbed to another dry spell reinforced by increased radiation. The sulfuric stench from Sapphiran pyres was such that they were always erected several hundred spear lengths downwind from camp. Thus, when the flames began to engulf the ill-fated intruder, they all readied to high-tail it to a safe distance. A few dozen steps into their trek, however, the wind shifted, delivering a cloud of smoke into their midst. And much to their surprise, the odor was far from unpleasant, luring them back to what eventually became known as their first Harvest Festival barbeque.
Still in relative shock from Phorgon's violent demise, the Sapphiran's simple minds had quickly found solace in the unexpected meal which far surpassed anything they'd had before. After all, there was only so much you could do with worms, slugs and insects, even with the addition of various herbs and indigenous spices. Within decades the ability to repair and pilot similar ill-fated spacecraft developed along with the notion they could hunt their prey rather than await its arrival on such an unpredictable schedule.
And thus for this journey, genour, looked upon by humans as the last possible source of nourishment, was deemed a suitable appetizer by the Sapphirans as they anticipated once again feasting on human flesh.
