Wild Beast: A Rough Sci-Fi Romance

“Was the weather not to your liking?”

I snarl at Scarton’s impudence. If there is anybody on board bold enough to bring my failure to my attention directly to my face, it is him.

“We were not expecting to see you back so soon, sir.” Chaser has command, and much more in the way of diplomacy. He is sitting in my captain’s chair very comfortably, and does not seem inclined to relinquish it. The whelp has been angling for captain for as long as I have known him. I give him command when I am off-ship because he actually has talent for leadership. He’s a stickler for the rules, and that means everything is always orderly when I return.

“There’s a human down there. We need to transport it out and terminate it. Drop it into the nearest bit of outer space you can target with the scanners and be done with it.”

I wait for my order to be carried out, but there’s a pause where obedience should be. Nothing has gone to plan from the moment I went down to the planet’s surface.

“We can’t get a lock on the planet, Captain. The ship’s systems won’t operate on a hallowed surface. It is forbidden.”

“Override the block.”

I feel the disapproval rippling ship wide. There are six Vulparian officers on the bridge, each of them trained to the hilt. Every single one of them knows what was wrong with the order I gave. We are not supposed to interfere with wild planets, not on any level. But this has to be an extenuating circumstance.

“There is a human down there,” I remind them. “A human interacting with our living ancestors. Corrupting them. Feeding them human food. Teaching them human ways. If that human is allowed to continue to interact with the wild ones, we will lose this part of our history forever. The wild ones who have already interacted with her may have to be culled themselves.”

There is a collective gasp on the bridge. I essentially just suggested we might have to kill a few living gods. I never thought I would have to say such a thing.

“They are eating packaged foods. The human has stolen their wildness. Do you not understand what a crisis we have here? She may teach them to use tools, and then perhaps even develop a written language. She could even introduce words. Words! This has to be stopped!” I roar the final words with my head held high. I am not merely giving orders. I am calling my pack to action. They have to have as much lust for the human’s blood as I have. They must share in my aim to liberate the planet from human occupation—even if it is only one human.

“Sounds like it is time for a hunting party.”

Scarton would suggest that. He has been looking for an excuse to hunt humans for as long as I can remember. Last solar we were able to clear an encampment, and when I say we, I of course mean he. Once Scarton gets the scent of a human, he is absolutely unstoppable.

“Put me in. Send me down. Let me take the human.” He approaches me with eagerness, stripping off his uniform as he comes, assuming that I will be allowing him to transport down to the wild planet. The thought of unleashing him on an innocent world fills me with absolute trepidation. He will capture the human, of that I am sure. But will he leave anything else intact? That is far less certain.

“It’s not just about the human. We have to ensure that none of the wild ones are harmed. They appear to be defending it.”

A new voice pipes up at this point. “If the wild ones are defending the human, do we have the right to kill it? The will of the wild ones is supreme.”

“Please be quiet, Brains.”

We call him Brains because he likes to eat brains. It’s a fun quirk, and a good way to disgust other warship crews. We use nicknames for one another, like Brains, Chase, Scarton, because it is easier than using our true names, which are each five thousand syllables long and can only be spoken in a holy ritual once every ten years. I go by the simple moniker, Captain, or Volt, if the situation is formal.

“I’m just saying,” he says, failing to follow my orders. “If the wild ones have taken a human into their tribe, we should respect that.”

“We should not. We cannot. And we will not.”

Brains shrugs. “Do not be surprised when the wrath of the wild ones is unleashed upon you. There is no bad luck like that which comes from the wild.”

I feel a brief shiver, remembering how it felt to be chased by the wild one. It was a visceral experience that I think I might treasure privately for quite some time.