Instinctively, the crystal lifeform knew, just as his bond-mate did, what he could do and how to do it. So, as Simon stood in the middle of all the debris, they started to rise up in the air and rearranging themselves, fusing together to gradually take on the shape of a starfighter. Although its 'fighter' suffix didn't make anymore sense since it had lost all its weapons in the explosion. It didn't look much like what it did prior to the crash and the debris were in a rather pitiful states. It wasn't much of a problem however, as the crystal could mold the metal easily.
A few hours later when he was finished, the crystal and its bond-mate looked at his work. Although it wouldn't be very comfortable, and it wouldn't be able to leave an oxygen rich atmosphere, it should allow him and his bond-mate to safely leave this moon. More importantly, the beacon and broadcasting apparatuses were repaired and fully functional. If they couldn't reach an inhabited world on their own, Simon and Crys should be able to be rescued. That is… if they were in range of a space faring civilization and their denizens didn't hate Terrans too much…
Simon sighed as he thought of this. His species was really the worst ! Although Simon remembered in his time how humans didn't care about their environment (or each other really), they weren't that bad ! In fact, he felt they had regressed to Antiquity… More specifically, the Roman times, when Rome and the consecutive Emperors tried and expanded their territory while entertaining the population with gladiatorial games. Yeah, 'cause they had recreated those too and had Terran champions facing alien slaves and animals… Of course, these games were biased toward the Terrans.
All in all, the Terran species as a whole seemed to have become bloodthirsty, greedy and xenophobic… Well, some people were already like this. Or perhaps, it was because people like this had finally taken over the governments ?
In any case, it would not facilitate Simon and Crys' survival. Simon sighed again, soon echoed in his mind by his bond-mate.
Simon climbed inside the cockpit of their new starship and talked aloud to his partner :
« Let's leave this rock, Crys ! »
* * * * *
The young man gazed at the emptiness of space with a newfound awe. In his old life, when Earth was still called Earth, traveling through space was something only the truly wealthy or those trained elites belonging to letter agency could do. And even then, they never left the solar system.
And now, he found himself leaving the confines of Terran space to explore a territory they seldom visited. From what little he knew of the geopolitics of space and Terran History, they had a few sporadic skirmishes in this sector of space… Though the results of those skirmishes weren't public knowledge so Simon thought they probably lost them. After all, the masses couldn't know that the Terran Empire could lose…
Beyond those thoughts however, Simon felt truly small compared to the vastness of space. More than that, if it weren't for his mate and new friend, he would be frightened. Just imagining the statistical chances of finding an inhabited world or being rescued and brought to one… It would leave him with a pit of despair in the stomach.
It had been a few days since he flew off the unnamed moon he crashed on. Despite that, however, Simon didn't feel hunger or thirst which gave credence to the theory he had about his new physiology. The energy he absorbed, both from the attacks of the Terran and the deadly chemical gazes of the moon, sustained him. Given the fact that he also effortlessly broke the Terran's arm, it also gave him strength. He wondered what else it might bring him…
Suddenly, the young man was brought out of his thought by a ping from his repaired on-board computer. His sensors had picked up on… something entering their range. After a moment, he realized that it was a ship, though he had no idea of how it looked and who it belonged to. Soon the ping was followed by a hail from the unknown ship.
« Hm… I'm both giddy and anxious… Should we answer it ? » He asked both himself and Crys.
Without the Terran conditioning, the young man reverted to his former, hesitant self and he wondered if this was a good or bad thing… Not giving him a chance to answer, Crys put the call on the screen. This is when Simon realized a new problem he would be facing in the future… He had no idea what the person on the other end of the call was saying ! At least it looked humanoid, though it looked like a human-sized octopus who decided to walk on two tentacles…
Even originally, his on-board computer didn't possess a translating function. For that matter, translating softwares were considered pretty much useless to the Terran military. It could even be considered a liability to understand the species they usually subjugated… So, they almost never installed them. Simon even wondered if they ever bothered creating one since he'd never used one. And if they did, how reliable it truly was.
As he was thinking of these things, the being suddenly started talking in Terran :
« What's a Terran scum doing in TUP space ? Identify yourself and your ship, immediately or be fired upon ! »
« Greetings, ahem… Sir ! My name is Simon Schneider. I'm a… refugee trying to flee the Terran Empire. » He paused, and continued : « Let's just say they probably won't be happy with me for deserting… and other stuff. As for my ship, it's a… I don't really know to be honest. A friend of mine built it recently… »
The squid-person seemed to consider him critically in silence while he could hear untranslated chatter over the call. Probably his crewmates updating the captain about the ship's capabilities… or lack-thereof. Simon hoped they wouldn't blast him out when they found out his ship couldn't attack and didn't even possess an FTL drive…
After a lengthy and rather stressful silence, the captain spoke up again :
« Very well… My name is Captain Birftratt Karas Durn of the Clerzar. Deactivate your engines while we bring in your ship. Don't do anything unnecessary if you don't want to be blown up ! »
« Roger that, sir ! »
Simon felt as the TUP ship's tractor beam latched onto his ship right after he'd cut his engine. His anxiousness didn't so much stem from the possible treatment these aliens could inflict him but rather about his own interactions with them. He didn't want to make a bad impression but… he'd always been socially awkward and shy.
When he knew someone it didn't pose such a problem… However, the first meeting with someone was always a bit frightening for him. This stressed him out so much that, on occasions, he made a fool of himself. And now, he encountered an alien species for basically the first time since he didn't consider his former encounters as proper meetings…
As his ship was drawn inside another, much more massive ship, Simon nervously tapped his fingers against the armrest.
* * * * *
His ship was carefully laid in the middle of a hangar and was swiftly surrounded by all kinds of alien races, armed to the teeth. Though the expression didn't really suit some of them as they didn't seem to have any…
Nevertheless, it was obvious how dangerous they thought he was, and how Terrans were viewed in general outside of their space. In fact, maybe even inside their territories, they were probably considered this way… Unfortunately, they were the dominant power there. Simon sighed as he saw this. A part of him regretted… Well, they were a lot of things he regretted. Surviving his parents, having woken up in this day and age, being drafted in the Terran military and navy… And now, adventuring in this unknown region of space. Granted, every region of space was basically unknown to him.
« Hm… It makes me wonder why they even sent me out here in the first place… »
If he was supposed to test the new prototype starfighter, why send him to the edge of Terran space ? His current theory was that one of those supremacist nutjobs was among the researchers… Though it didn't explain how he justified it. From what he understood, this prototype was important. A part of the next generation of starfighters. So, the test was of paramount importance too. Sending such a prototype so far from their controlled territory was foolish… So, how did he or she justify it ?
His thoughts were interrupted when his cockpit opened. To an outside observer, Simon would have looked around almost nonchalantly, despite the numerous weapons being trained on him. And, frankly, considering what he went through on that moon, and despite their numbers, Simon shouldn't have felt threatened. However, that wasn't true !
Sure, he wasn't afraid of the weapons or being summarily gunned down in his ship… In fact, it didn't even cross his mind. This was a very Not-Terran like reaction, and it puzzled the captain Birftratt who was currently present alongside his people. Terrans usually either fired first, or raged and raved about their superiority even in the face of an obviously hopeless situation. He expected the man to be the same… However, he just seemed to… assess the situation.
Some kind of special forces, then, the Captain thought. It made him redouble his wariness of the man. Unlike spies, who were trained more to deceive and get close to targets, special forces focused solely on ways to kill people. Although they were also called upon in hostage situations, their primary skillset was to… well, end lives. Saving hostages was just a by-product.
« Move and we'll fill you with holes ! » The translated voice of the alien came to Simon's ears.
He stilled as he looked at the Captain, not sure what he should do. Should he acknowledge the order or not ? After all, he couldn't do so without moving, at least, a bit. The captain's men didn't wait for a sign from him and a few of them approached. They were massive ! Easily 3 to 4 meters in height but strangely skinny with reptilian features : a tail, slits for nostrils with no visible nose and golden, slitted eyes as well as scales. The color of their scales was a dark blue turning violet but with stripes of turquoise here and there. It was a strange sight, the colors clashed greatly and yet… Simon found himself fascinated, unable to draw his eyes away.
Even as one of them grabbed him and hoisted him out of his cockpit before another slapped a pair of heavy wrist-cuffs on his arms.
Once that was done, the decisive voice of the Captain resounded :
« Take him to the brig ! We'll see how HQ wants us to deal with him ! »