Oh No! | Anthology ✔

What, Behind the Rabbit? | @Arveliot

The results made his blood run cold.

"Old Earth. Ain't that the worst luck," McLeach muttered to himself. Creatures from old Earth were dangerous. Half the reason humanity left that cesspit of violence and danger was because pretty much every animal on it could kill a person. Poisonous lizards, carnivores, monstrous beasts, hallucinatory frogs, disease carrying bugs and worse. 

Humanity's cradle was a place where the babe was handed a knife instead of a rattle.

But his results feed came with a video. McLeach tapped the play button and watched.

The scene was a grassy field on old Earth. Several men conversed, most of them wearing some sort of antiquated armour. McLeach nodded without thinking about it, respectfully. Metal armour on a place with crushing gravity like Earth, and these men were standing like it was just clothing. These were clearly formidable warriors.

The one not wearing armour identified the creature, and the others laughed. After a series of jokes and jests in accents McLeach could barely follow, one of them, a man named Bors, promised to go and make a stew with the creature's corpse.

As the armoured soldier approached, and just as the un-armoured man who must have served as their guide shouted out in warning, the little creature leapt up. It struck the man in the throat, and in a shower of blood, decapitated the armoured man like he was an over ripe fruit.

McLeach nearly let his device slip from his hand and float away. His stomach lurched, and threatened to launch his half-digested meal into the low g environment his ship drifted in.

Sickened but resolved, he carried on to the end of the video. The armoured soldiers drew their weapons and charged the beast, only to retreat as the beast leapt between them, mauling another two. 

McLeach slipped his device back into his pocket, zipped it up, and went to reach for a breach sealing kit.

"I can just lock that critter back up in the pod until I hit port. Then buy something and gas everything in there," McLeach said to himself, in relief. "Sorry, Joanna. Hate to end our time like this."
McLeach chuckled to himself.

But as he turned away, his eyes caught sight of small bundle of white fur near the store of protein gel, and a little nose quivering on its small but terrifying face.

McLeach howled in fear and nearly lost his footing, stumbling away clumsily in his magnetic boots.
The creature jumped once in surprise, a little bounce that took it a dozen feet in the low gravity. It scampered across the deck, and darted behind a crate.

"Blasted little varmint!" McLeach cursed, as he lurched towards the far wall of the cargo bay. A dozen awkward steps took him to the small emergency rack, where he took his elbow and smashed it against the glass.

Which did absolutely nothing to do.

Cursing under his breath, he opened the rack and fished out his Model 1912 Winchester.

Now, illegal cargo was always a tricky thing to smuggle, and getting boarded could cost you a fortune. And the Space Rangers of the Jovians didn't look kindly on finding guns in your ship. So in order to get around the restrictions, he had paid a lot of money to one of the most evil, devious creatures in the universe to find him a loophole.

His lawyer had recommended using an ancient shotgun, and a 3D printer to manufacture ammunition. On the manifest, he only needed to list it as an antique, kept for its 'sentimental value'.

And it meant he could keep a firearm on his ship, for emergencies like this.

"Apparently your feet are good luck. Guess I'll be finding out soon, critter," McLeach mumbled, striding forward cautiously with the gun pointed forward.