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Catherine the Great, Chapter Four
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality
Subject: FTA, _The Life and Adventures of Catherine the Great_ (4 of 4)
From: [email protected] (Perigon Neptune)
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Date: Sun, 28 May 95 23:25:00 -0600
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FTA, The Life and Adventures of Catherine the Great, (4 of 4)
By: Peter Unicorn (redvane) circa 1992.
Filename: shines.txt
---------------------------------cut here ------------------------------
THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF CATHERINE THE GREAT
PART FOUR
"The Only Thing That Shines"
"And you know,
This is nothing special.
With one slip,
We could lose ourselves forever.
One time for all times.
And you are,
The only thing that shines."
Shriekback "Only Thing That Shines"
"Engine arm, preselect off."
"Confirm."
"Limits to standard."
"Check"
"Music preselect."
"Brandenburg Concierto Number 3, first movement."
"Hold status."
"Nominal sealed and locked."
"Okay, punch it."
A whine, a protesting screech and a growl from the ion drives were quickly
drowned out in the delicate lilting allegro melodies and harmonies of Johann
Sebestian Bach as interpreted by the Ructilius Terrestrian Symphony Orchestra.
The drive's output crept up to thirty percent of rated maximum power and would
go no further.
Sliandra sttempted her scottish aceent as she came out with the oldest joke
in the space travel repertoire. "She cannae take it captain! If I push the
dilithium cristals any further she'll blow!"
"You've GOT to get us out of here Scottie" I replied, joining in the joke.
"ETA with federation headquarters Mr Spock?"
"Fifty two hours forty minutes on present heading and speed," replied our
navigator in the Amthren tongue, her Amthren accent not much better than
Sliandra's Scots; this meant she was in one of her incorrigible showing-off
moods again.
The captain and I exchanged glances and shrugged.
"Ah well, never mind, it gives us a food problem though," she said.
"What?"
"We have hungry passengers to feed."
"Oh no, you didn't..."
"Only a few, they were refugees! desperate people! I agreed to help them."
"Go on, how much."
"For nothing... well... almost nothing. I didn't give them any guarantees
about where they were going. Can you show them round the ship?"
"Why me?"
"They'll get worried if the first thing they see is what they regard as a
vicious predatory animal; they came to me via an intermediary on the
waystation and they don't know who's flying them. Now run along and get
dressed and show them about and then bring them up to the bridge and wow the
pants off them."
I sighed and began to walk towards my cabin, muttering under my breath that
they would be right in thinking she was a predator.
Five minutes later I was dressed in the pilot's uniform of a Terran
Confederacy Navy Reserve, the insignia on my left arm confirming my rank as
Wingleader and the twinned yin and yang dolphins on my right informing the
world of my role as a human/delphine liaison officer. It's quite a natty
uniform and it has its uses when it comes to impressing the natives. The
cargo bay was well lit and a single pod lay forlornly in the centre, its
loneliness made even greater by the cavernous space that surrounded it. I
made by way down the catwalk and stairs to the examination port of the pod
and, taking a neural link cable from my pocket I clipped one end behind my ear
and the other into the interrogation socket of the port.
Green characters flitted up into my field of vision and I closed my eyes to
read them more easily. They informed me that the pod contained a breathable
oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere and that the temperature was a rather hot twenty
eight degrees, also that the energy unit was thirty minutes from failure and
that temperature control had been shut down to concentrate on scrubbing carbon
dioxide from the air inside.
I unplugged myself from the pod's tiny computer and flipped the switches to
unlock and open the pod. A rush of hot, sweaty air hit me and after a pause
people began to emerge from inside.
When they were all out on the floor of the cargo bay there were ten in all:
all human, two men, two women and six children. They looked hot and sweaty
but otherwise in pretty good shape. They also looked relieved that the
creature who had released them from the cargo pod was human and didn't appear
to be carrying a weapon.
"Good afternoon," I said, beaming my best public relations smile, "My name
is Peter Greenacre and on behalf of my captain I welcome you aboard Catherine
The Great."
"Th.. Thank you Sir," stammered one of the men. I knew that the uniform
had been a good idea.
"You're welcome," I replied. He turned to the other refugees and it was
then I realised he was carrying something in his right hand, it looked like
a.... "Oh no!" I groaned inwardly, "they're from Dralasa and they're part of
that mob!"
"Praise the Lord!" he exclaimed to his followers, "He has delivered us into
safe hands from the Legions of Hell."
"Man, are you in for a motherfuckin' surprise!!"
I blinked in astonishment as the words flitted across my vision before
realising that they must have been transmitted from the bridge to the neural
linkup receiver in my wristwatch. The leader of the refugees was well into
his patter, exhorting his followers to kneel and pray for forgiveness or
deliverance or somesuch nonsense.
"Drinks on the bridge - bring the Reverend and his flock up!"
I acknowledged this transmission by shutting down the comms section of the
SysCyber and after a quick IR scan of the huddled group in front of me for
weapons (I'm a distrustful sort) I coughed politely.
"Would you care to follow me, the captain and her crew would like to meet
you on the bridge for refreshments."
Before I turned away I could see the look of relief on the faces of the
flock, my sixth sense told me that here was a group of people having severe
problems with their faith. They all obediently followed behind me as I
sheperded them towards the cargo bay exit.
"Excuse me, sir," it was the reverend.
"Oh please, do call me Peter, er Mr..."
"Parrish, John Parrish. Did you say your captain was a woman?"
"Well... er... yes. Is that a problem?"
"No. It's just that where we come from..."
"Oh don't worry Mr Parrish, I know that where you came from things are a
little different." I was doing my very best to be polite and not to gloat but
my sense of poetic justice was beginning to get the better of me. "The
navigator is female too."
"And the rest of the crew?"
"There is no other crew; we're a small freighter who got caught up in the
battle on Dralasa and we fled after smuggling you aboard; you owe your escape
to my captain."
"You're not Confederacy Navy then?"
"No, Confederation of Independent Space Traders."
A look of horror flitted across his face; obviously our reputation preceded
us. We had reached the doors of the bridge which opened as we approached.
Sliandra was stood there, waiting for us. She was dressed in the fashion
of her home world in a flowing gown of almost transparent silken material in
bright red and amber colours, her furred arms crossed across her chest, her
head back, exposing her throat in greeting.
"Welcome aboard my friends. I do apologise for the conditions inside the
cargo pod in which you were obliged to make your escape and I trust that you
were not unduly inconvenienced; please, allow me to extend the hospitality of
our vessel to you."
I nodded inwardly at her politeness before it struck me that only I had
been aware of what she had said; she had been speaking in her own language.
Now she stood before us grinning her leopard's grin. I turned to face the
little group of refugees who looked absolutely petrified. At least two of the
children appeared to be on the verge of tears. Rapidly I translated
Sliandra's welcoming speech into English and the adults at least relaxed a
little, save for the one we had dubbed "The Reverend" who was starting to
bristle like an angry Rigellian ferrochar.
Sliandra continued her speech on the guttural snarl of her Amthren tone
language whilst indicating a tray of drinks: "We have prepared refreshments
for you and so if you don't mind accepting hospitality from bestial heathen
scum you can help yourselves."
I translated it as: "My captain invites you to partake in refreshments
with us and assures you that you are guests and at liberty to use this ship as
your own and she further hopes that you will enjoy the rest of your voyage."
There was a painful silence for a moment as everyone stood perfectly still
before Sliandra growled, touched her hands to her forehead and spoke again.
"Oh dear, you think I'm going to bite your heads off don't you? I'll get
you a drink instead."
"My Captain apologies and assures you that no harm will come to you; she
realises that her appearance may appear fearsome if you are not used to seeing
members of her race but you are in no danger." She had returned with the tray
now and walked towards the huddled emigrants who did seem to be relaxing a
little more. It was obvious that the man who had until this point been silent
was the father of some of the children and it was he who turned to Parrish and
said.
"It would be rude to refuse."
"She's an animal!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
"John, whatever she is she saved our lives," he replied, his voice
betraying his anger. He pointedly reached out and took the glass proffered by
Sliandra, "Thank you, madame," he said and I made a show of translating it
into Amthren. Sliandra offered the tray around and everyone, including the
Reverend, took a glass of what transpired to be a rather passable mineral
water. I made a further attempt at ice-breaking once everyone had a glass in
their hand and I noticed that one of the boys was taking an interest in the
communications console.
"Would you like a quick guided tour of the bridge?" I asked.
"Oh! Yes please," answered the child before pulling himself up and looking
apologetically at his parents, who nodded and they and the rest of their brood
formed a little group around us.
"Gotcha!" I thought as I launched into my "This is our communications
centre which is tied into the navigation systems and...." speech. They all
paid dutiful attention and then I did what I wanted to do ever since I met
these dweebs, "... and this is our main navigation computer." Right on cue
Silvermoon who had been lying on the bottom of her pool stuck her head and the
front half of her body out of the water and squeaked a "Good Morning!" in
English just as we reached the balcony rail. I turned to make a show of
indicating the steps down to the pool but instead saw a face of such utter
hatred on the Reverend I nearly fell backwards. He turned on his heel and
stormed off the bridge, quickly followed by the woman I presumed to be his
wife calling after him. The other man and woman and their children stayed.
"Er.. Did I say something wrong?" I asked.
"I'm so sorry," apologised the woman, "he's been under a lot of pressure
and it's just that he..."
"Doesn't like dolphins?" I completed the sentence. "I thought it might be
that. I presume that the Church of the One Way enters into this somewhere?"
The man nodded, "He was a Church Elder and he believed that Church was
going to make a deal with the Government to open up the community to off-
worlders: traders and that sort of thing. He feels that they were going to
use the war to get rid of him and so he fled."
"And you?"
"We were beginning to have problems with the Church. We, my wife Ruth and
I, wanted somewhere better to bring our children up in."
"Why couldn't you leave anyway?" Sliandra had joined in our conversation,
suddenly acquiring a perfect command of the English language.
"It isn't so easy." Ruth said, "If we made moves to take our children away
from the Church they would have been taken from us and David, my husband,
could have been imprisoned without trail and then killed as a traitor to the
church."
"They can't do that!" I exclaimed in horror.
"On Dralasa they can," David said with resignation. "The confederacy has
no jurisdiction on that planet."
The sound of children's laughter came up from the poolside below. Two of
the couple's daughters were kneeling by Silvermoon's tank and were splashing
handfuls of water at her. She was trying to catch them in her mouth much to
the mutual amusement of Ruth and David's daughters. I turned to their
parent's to reassure them that they were safe with our navigator and instead
of concern in heir eyes I saw tears starting to form. "They haven't laughed
in weeks," Ruth whispered.
"Dolphins are good at making you," I replied. "Care to meet her?"
I let David and his family have my cabin for the night. The Reverend
refused to leave the cargo hold when I took him some food down and indeed
launched into a tirade about me being one of his God's chosen species
consorting with demons (or was it devils?) and how I was supposed to purify
myself. I smiled, bit my tongue firmly and left.
The Church of the One Way.
Probably the biggest set of morons, bigots and dickheads the human race has
ever produced.
It was their church that set itself up on Dralasa after the Confederacy had
tried their leaders for murder when they tried to sabotage the power plant of
New Atlantis. I suppose in hindsight that their move to that planet was the
Confederacy's way of purging itself of that backward looking disaster. The
Church loathed the dolphins more than anything for it was that beautiful,
faultless race who, with a cheery "Would you like to talk to us now?" in the
autumn of 2091, had once and for all time destroyed the cruel myth that humans
were something unique with sole right to do what the hell they liked with the
world and her creatures. The Church of the One Way was an umbrella group of
most of the more extreme remnants of Judaic, Islamic and Christian
fundamentalism that remained in the late 21st century and, naturally, they
were somewhat put out by the loss of human supremacy. They were a minor
irritation, fighting among themselves and forbidden under the Mahatma Codex
from direct recruitment. However in 2156 they managed to put together a
terrorist wing and launched an attack on the newly completed city of New
Atlantis, a community off the coast of the Bahamas where humans and dolphins
lived side by side. As far as I can remember from my studies (Linguistics 214
- Delphine poetry and song of the Southern Atlantic - University of Antartica,
class of '21) thirty people and five dolphins died in the attack. You must
realise that this was a long time before the Tharsti conflicts and this sort
of thing was outside the experience of anyone alive at that time after over a
hundred years without war or terrorism; even murder was rare. I think
everyone was shocked out of their wits and really didn't know what to do. In
the end they just swept them under the carpet of a far flung desert planet and
tried to forget them.
The dolphins never forgot; they never do.
They just put it into a poem as they had done with all the other atrocities
the human species committed against them.
Then they mourned for a while at the loss of their loved ones.
And then they completely forgave us all.
I reflected on that last aspect as I reached the bridge and stood beside
the hold monitor console. As I sealed the inner pressure doors as a security
precaution I found my hand hovering over the switches that would blow the
hatches to the hold, sucking the air from the space within seconds.
It would be so easy, just so easy.
The first switch shut down the recirculation pumps which cleaned and
purified the atmosphere in the hold.
I flipped it.
The second opened the heavy space doors to leave just half an inch of
PlastiSteel between the Reverend and armageddon.
I flipped it too.
The third switch, labelled "DANGER - HOLD PRESSURE DOOR EMERGENCY RELEASE",
had a protective cover, beneath the thin plastic that would take but the flick
of a thumb to remove. The red button began to pulse angrily, daring me to
push and be damned.
"Why bother? You've won already."
The voice was clear and bright, soft and calm as the summer sea, spoken
directly into my mind.
I paused, the seal on the switch opened and my index finger poised, a mere
muscle movement from murder.
"Oh shit Silver, you're right again."
I turned the recirc pumps back on and closed the hold's outer doors.
"Think of what he's lost, rescued by the worst thing his mind can conceive
of: a spaceship full of everything he hates, his embodiment of evil; and it
turned around and picked him from the fires of hell instead of stamping him
into the ground."
"I'm sorry Silver," I said as I walked down the steps to the pool where she
lay, her head poked out of the water, grinning as though a smile was the only
facial gesture that there was any point in making, "It's just that after
taking out those Dralasite ships, remembering what that moron stood for and
what his way of thought had been responsible for, it would be just so easy to
dispose of him and the universe would be a cleaner place."
"That isn't for us to decide; of all people you should know that. One of
your race tried it before and proved that once you start along that road there
is no telling where it may lead."
There was no scolding in her voice, no admonition or slap across the
wrists, just affection as though she was telling me for the thousandth time
how much she loved me.
"I know. It just doesn't seem easy anymore." I reached her pool and sat on
the side, "The Dralasan fighters this morning attacking us, the prat in the
hold with his diseased words. Have the human race learnt nothing?" My voice
began to grow shrill with anger as I choked back the tears of frustration. "I
feel so angry and hurt by his anger."
"You've learnt a lot and you are not the human race, neither is the man in
the hold nor the Confederation Undersecretary. We as a people have learned
much from your kind and I have learned much from you but you and I know in our
hearts that the needless taking of a life accomplishes nothing." She drew
close to the edge of the pool as she spoke, her words a spiral of clicks,
whistles and pulsed brainwaves making a beautiful pattern. Her presence was
warm in my soul, breaking down the barriers of anger and fear.
"Will you take the pain away?" I asked.
"Of course I shall my beloved," she replied as she backed away to await my
entry into the pool.
We clung close to each other, sharing far more than just the heat of our
bodies that night. As the stars slid by my cares dissolved in the warm balm
of her soul's caress, soft and alluring as it cleansed my spirit and made me
whole once more, filling the black pits of anger with sparkling blue oceans of
beauty and understanding. Hard pressed against me she healed my soul, taking
me deep within her, pulling me close into her body, drawing me into her womb,
taking every torn and tattered part of me within herself and tenderly, oh so
tenderly, she showed me the man that she had taken as her lover and whom she
would protect from all harm and from the fears that lurked within his own
mind. She positively shone with power and strength in our tiny ocean that
night, radiant like a thousand million suns, pouring heat and life from her
beautiful, sinuous body. When the exquisite beauty became too much for me to
bear and I drifted away from her, crying in the salt waters, she came back to
me and gathered me to her, pulling to me close until I grasped her and again
swam through the harsh light of doubt to the dark, ageless pools of calm
unhurried wisdom where we swam and played and loved together. Gasping for air
she lay under me, holding my frail body, so poorly adapted for the environment
in which she was undoubted mistress, supporting me so that I may breathe
before she would invite me within her again to continue our exploration of the
paths of wisdom, forging a trail between the spheres, entranced by the perfect
harmonies of their music. Deeper and deeper, further and further, on and on
we swam, her beauty like a beacon guiding me into the deeps; far, far away
from the pain and the anger I carried.
The most exquisite lovemaking a dolphin can give was mine that night and,
as I slipped into a refreshed and dreamless sleep, I praised her name above
all others and she tried in modesty to hide her head under my arm.
When we awoke in the morning we knew that it would be forever.
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