Tarak
My pet is playing some sort of game with me.
Pets only get a maximum of three strikes before termination. With her already having one strike and now her running off-leash, the danger of the situation hits me.
I must catch her. Saving her life depends on it.
When a door opens and we fall into the room, I rejoice as I run toward her. All I need to do is catch her and carry her away.
Something seems off about this place. Bandages are stacked high, and there is the awful stench that I associate with hospital rooms. Displayed on the wall unit is an enlarged image of a scourge's bandaged nose.
Am I in a medical room? This shouldn't be possible. Medical rooms are usually marked and clustered together so that non-medical scourges cannot easily access them.
My attention is drawn back to the wall unit where the nose is splayed across it. Something about the nose looks unnatural. Why? Is it the fact that the nose has tape on it? Or that the nose is... Too small?
"What's a pet doing in here," yells a scourge wearing a gown and gloves. "It could contaminate everything! Grab it!"
Only then do I notice other things in the room. Two scourges wearing gowns and masks scowl at me and my pet like we are a disease or something. On the table between them, a cloth covers a big burly scourge...
Suddenly I put everything together. This isn't just a medical room. We have interrupted a surgery.
The surgeon glares at me and my pet. "You and that thing are not gloved or scrubbed and could be carrying germs! Get that thing out of here."
"Summon security," the other surgeon tells the wall unit.
No! Another mark on my pet's record could mean her termination. We must not be here when security arrives.
I grab her from behind, pulling her against me while also folding one arm around her neck. My hold is firm, but I do not apply pressure. This is not meant to hurt her but only meant to get her under control and out of here as fast as we can.
My pet is smart because she stiffens the moment my arm brushes the skin around her neck. She gasps and takes tiny little breaths, and I can hear her heartbeat spike, racing. Even though I'm not restricting her breathing, her fear is.
Just hold on, pet, I will let you down. I start to go toward the door when a familiar voice calls to me.
"Tarak?" says the voice coming from the surgical table.
What? I gaze at the table where the mass in the middle sits up.
The scourge with the unnatural taped-up nose, my boss, stares straight at me.
My only hope is that he won't remember anything with anesthetics, so since I have my pet in my arms and security is probably on its way, I run out of the room.
Two burly scourges are in the hallway, and they stand shoulder-to-shoulder, trying to block the exit from this hallway with their bodies. I need to get my pet away, so I hurtle at them, bumping them with my shoulders and knocking them out of the way.
They shout at me to stop, but I keep running.
My pet's heartbeat thumps so loudly, roaring like an engine, drowning out the sounds of everything else around us, even the ones chasing me.
The odds are so against us. Maybe my boss might not remember, but what about all the other scourges?
I do the only thing I can do, which is run—down hallways, past my workplace, even past my quarters—and into Rigel's office.
***
I charge into the room. Rigel flicks through information on his wall unit.
"Commander Tarak? What brings you here?" His eyes go from me to my pet.
Between her heart racing and her shaking, I need to comfort her. I massage that little divot in her neck.
His lips immediately turn down in the way they do when he is disappointed in me. "Why are you touching that spot on her neck? I thought we established that touching her on the neck scares her and–"
I take a deep breath. "She wouldn't cooperate, and I had to get away."
His eyebrows rise. "Get away from where?"
His wall unit chimes twice. I put my pet onto Rigel's couch, removing her muzzle.
"Oh, these messages look urgent. I need to check on some of these," says Rigel, turning so that he fully faces the wall unit. The wall unit chimes another two times.
Rigel's wings flutter. He knows.
The wall unit chimes again.
"It wasn't my fault," I blurt.
Rigel whirls, his eyes an intense blue, and his wings widen. He has an impressive wingspan, and his wings fill the entire corner of his office.
I had always thought this behaviorist to be weak but between his wingspan and the angry shouts coming from him, I realize only too late that Rigel would make an admirable foe.
"You and your pet disrupted a surgery?!"
"In my defense, the room was not on the medical ward, nor was it labeled as such because naturally, I would not let my pet run around in a surgical ward."
"Why did you even go into the room?"
"My pet wanted to explore?"
"Oh, my stars—these reports say she was unleashed? Why would you let her run wild when you know she already has a strike?"
"I did just as you told me. I leashed and muzzled her, but..." I take a deep breath. "When I started to go down a particular hallway, suddenly, she would not go with me and... She removed her leash, ran down the hall, activated the door, and entered that room. All of this she did on her own. I only followed her." My ears ring. He probably thinks I'm lying. Had I not witnessed it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.
Rigel grips his temples. "I do not want to see this pet destroyed. Tell me what happened, from the beginning."
I need her. Even though she squirms, I pick her up and sit down with her on that awful-smelling couch, holding her to me. She needs to be calmed, too, so I kiss the top of her head and start by telling him the entire story.
To his credit, Rigel listens. He must see my side of what I tell him because his wings drop, no longer filling up part of the room, and his eyes no longer flash in anger at me. My pet is calming, too, and she stays listless against my chest as I pet her.
When I finally finish my entire explanation, Rigel rubs his chin, staying silent and gazing at who knows what on the wall.
Because my pet already has a strike against her, I need his counsel.
I thump my tail on the floor. "Will they take her?"
He looks at my pet, still in my lap. "May I?" he asks.
"Go ahead," I say, understanding his need.
Rigel sits on the couch, stroking her head and she leans forward so that her body is between the two of us, with her legs in my lap and her head resting on his knee. I never would have suspected that a pet, especially one that could cause so much trouble, could bring such comfort.
"Let's start by assessing her behavioral plan, and then I will file a new plan reflecting modifications and amendments."
"Will that be enough?"
"I can't make any promises, but if we move fast... maybe? So, let's start with the communication component. How is that progressing?"
"Pets are not capable of–"
Rigel's wings puff out. "We talked about this last time. If humans flew a spaceship, that implies some use of language and... I thought scourges could only take creatures that first demonstrated an understanding of the pet tradition or am I mistaken?"
"Yes, that's true. She used a word invoking our tradition of pet taking and it was then that I seized her."
"You don't find that strange? How and where would she learn a scourge word?"
"Humans can mimic. She is so good at it. I am certain that it is what she did."
"I'm sure it is more than that. Let me show you what I've learned from my research about human pets on the Hydra," says Rigel and his wall unit shows a human from the park with his scourge owner.
My pet's head immediately swivels toward the image of the human, and she immediately starts to babble. "Lugh?"
"This human pet has not yet mastered the scourge language but has demonstrated the ability to understand basic commands and communicate with his scourge owner," says Rigel.
I repeat what I told Rigel before but speak slower. "They mimic." How many times must I tell Rigel for him to understand?
"Are you sure of that," says Rigel. "Let's watch this together. Wall unit, play demonstration from the file Human Pet Lugh."
***
"Get the cup and place it in the square," commands an off-screen scourge.
Sticks, leaves, a bowl, colorful balls, a leash, and pet pellets surround this human. I watch, expecting the human to fail because there are too many temptations. The pet might want to eat the pellets. Surely the pet might be tempted to play with the bright-colored balls and chase them, yet somehow... The pet finds a cup in the pile and places it inside the square.
"Now put the yellow ball into the cup," says the off-screen scourge.
Yet again, the pet astounds me, following the instructions precisely.
***
"What do you say to that?" asks Rigel when the wall unit darkens.
I do not want to tell Rigel that once again, he is right. I gaze at my pet sprawled across our laps. Could I train her to do that?
"My question to you is: if this human can do it, what do you think your pet might achieve?"
"If that human can do it, then so can mine," I say and when Rigel dares to show me his flat teeth like he often does when he has bested me, I add, "My pet is superior to all pets on the Hydra."
"Good, let's evaluate her communication plan then..."
Rigel rambles on but I am unsettled, and I get up and start to pace. Even though I made such a bold claim, I do not know how to communicate with her. I'm frustrated and my tail whips into an empty chair, knocking it over.
"Tarak?" asks Rigel.
"I..." It's shameful for a scourge to ask for help, let alone from whatever species Rigel is with his ridiculous wings. I thwack my tail on the floor again. "I... I can't lose her. I don't know what to do. Tell me?"
"So, you want my help and guidance?" asks Rigel.
If he were a scourge, I might think he is mocking me, except the corners of Rigel's eyes crinkle and he looks concerned, almost as if we were friends. That's not possible, though. I am a scourge. A scourge could never become friends with a bird.
"Tarak, asking for what you need is the first step. Now tell me, how is your aggression level? Or your–"
I lunge and snap my teeth at him. Rigel does not even flinch, so I scrape my fangs along his neck, resting them on the warm spot on his throat. Swish-swish, swish-swish thrums the pulse in his artery.
I desperately want to sink my teeth into him. His blood would taste so good.
Most would react to my threat, fighting or running from me, but Rigel's pulse maintains a constant beat.
In a very unperturbed tone, Rigel says. "I know, I know... Non-scourges are not to discuss scourge matters, but to perform my role as a behaviorist, I must. Besides, we can use this outburst, Tarak. If I cite evidence that your aggression is hard to control, and this pet helps you manage it..."
Yes, I want him to help her, but... I need him to submit to me. "I could cut you," I say, my voice partially muffled by his throat.
"You could. What would happen then, do you think? Tarak, you need to get this under control for your pet's sake."
"I'm not hurting her."
"Where is she then?"
I glance at his lap, but she is no longer there, nor is she on the couch. I pull away, looking around the room. I immediately spot the pillow along the floor, fortressing her hiding spot under the couch.
"She does that sometimes. She likes to hide underneath furniture."
His blue eyes flash in anger. "She does that because you scare her. I understand that you are scared, Tarak, but you cannot threaten me or do something that makes her hide from you during our meetings. Do you understand?"
I drop my head. How did I get to this point? "I will try."
"Good. Now let's discuss your communication plan. I will give you homework and here are the things I need you to do. First, you are to install and activate a translator in your wall unit."
So all I need to do is tell the wall unit what to do and my problem will be solved? "Is it that easy?"
"Based on my research on the human and scourge who already communicate, that's how they started. Hydra already has a program that translates between humans and scourges, so once you activate it..."
This pleases me. "Will she follow my every command?"
Rigel folds his arms and gives me a stern look. "That's what you would choose to do?"
"I..." Why does this bird make me feel stupid?
"Listen carefully to your second assignment. It's become apparent that you are having difficulty getting your aggression under control."
I huff. "What do you know of such things? You are not a scourge."
"The imbalance due to the higher number of dominant scourges on spaceships is a well-known phenomenon. That is why medication exists to regulate it. I'd like to take a different approach, though. As a homework assignment, I would like you to think back to your life when you were a young scourge on Cerberus."
Even invoking the name of my home reminds me of how glorious it was to hunt.
"From my research, unmanaged aggression is not as much of a problem with most scourges on Cerberus, yet it is when they are on Hydra. Maybe it's because of the balance between dominant and subordinate scourges, or the fact that there are other ways to express pent-up emotions, but I would like you to reflect on what satisfied those emotions when you still lived on Cerberus. Make a list of what those things were and bring it to a future meeting with me. Maybe there are ways you could get those things fulfilled on Hydra. What do you think of this part of the plan, Tarak?"
I run my tongue over the sharp points of my fangs and remember the hunts. Would Rigel let me express any pent-up aggression on him? "I can do that. I already have... ideas."
"Good, good. Now here is the next part of your assignment," he says, pulling something out from a desk drawer. There's a playful glint in his eyes and the corners of his lips turn upward and... Disgusting, why must he show me his flat teeth? "Hold out your hand for me."
I comply and he drops what looks like a tiny metal ball into my palm. I poke at it, and it makes a tinkling noise. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"This is where the fun part starts. I would like you to find a way to use that bell to communicate with your pet."
I shake it, listening to the strange tinkling it makes. "But I don't know..."
"Do this assignment with your pet. I'm sure you will figure something out."
I snort. I want to strike him, but then he might never tell me the answer to this strange puzzle. So, I hold it in my palm with plans to at least try the assignment. If I fail (I suspect I will), then I can bring it to my next appointment, throw it at him, and demand he tells me the answer.
"One thought I would like you to consider is that your pet probably has unmet needs, too."
"I follow the protocol," I say, pondering whether I should tell him how the Zon told me I was an above-average pet owner for ordering several bags of pet pellets for her.
"Let me ask you a question as a commander. Can the needs of every single member of your crew be included in a single manual?"
"No..."
"Humans are likely to have complex needs, too, and when you make the list of your needs, I want you to consider something..." He calls her. My pet, the traitor, crawls out from her hiding spot and goes to him, placing her head on his knees. He pets her. "The first time you brought her in for a visit, I assessed her. She has strong submissive traits."
Rigel is a barbarian and I growl at him. "Are you telling me that I should use my pet? I would never–"
"No! I am telling you to communicate. Alright then, a quick recap of the mitigation plan: 1) Install and activate a translator; 2) Make a list of ways that you were able to deal with pent-up aggression when you were on Cerberus; and 3) start communicating with her using the little bell I gave you. Any questions?"
This plan sounds impossible, but Rigel believes this new plan might save my pet. I will do anything to save her, so I promise to follow this new plan as soon as possible.
"Until next time," he says, flashing his teeth and holding his hand out in front of me.
I eye his hand suspiciously. "What's this?"
"Among my species, touching, briefly, with our hands is a sign of trust."
It's bad enough that I need to work with a non-scourge and now he wants me to touch him. "Must we?"
"Try it. Take my hand and hold it for a few seconds, and then tell me you will implement this plan. Then I will submit this as soon as you go."
Hadn't he said he did not like people touching his wings? I grip the end of his fingers in one hand, making sure he sees my grimace. With my other hand, I reach into his wing and pluck a feather. I let go, watching the feather flutter to the floor.
Now I flash my fangs in satisfaction. "I will do this plan!"
I am almost satisfied, except... Why must Rigel ruin things by grinning, as if he has bested me?
We are finished. I scoop my pet into my arms and leave.
***
I start my assignments the moment I get home. I begin with the translator. I quickly learn that Rigel does not understand wall units. Why else would the wall unit inform me that a translator is already installed? All that remains to be done is for my permission to be given and the wall unit will speak aloud.
I find the next part of my assignment, identifying the ways I blew off steam and aggression during my youth on Cerberus more daunting. Ever since I boarded Hydra many years ago, I had pushed my needs out of my mind. Why waste time thinking about desires that one cannot fulfill?
This is an assignment I must do if I want to help my pet, so I stretch the muscles of my back and my limbs, remembering the things that settled my nerves in the past. Immediately, I think of the hunts. Joining up with a pack and we'd run wild, a great horde stomping through the swamps and taking down everything in our path. It was glorious, working into a frenzy, ripping through hides and into flesh. We'd hunt and feast for days, until eventually, even us young scourges got tired, and retreated into caves.
That was the start of another event: the games, which settled my mind even more than the hunts. It was as if the submissive scourges could smell us, following us into the dark caves. Instinct took over, with dominants and submissives pairing for the night. We'd play games, scenting and exploring the other's body, finding new ways to dominate, until we dropped, exhausted, onto the cave floor.
These nostalgic memories make my mind hum. I allow myself a further indulgence, unlocking a secret storage unit in the wall. I pluck out my favorite toys, the tools for binding: the two sets of ropes, blue and red, plus a pair of cuffs to restrain the strong arms of a scourge, and lay them out on the bed. I find other old tools, like a crop for spanking disobedient submissives. I lovingly flex my fingers around it, before carefully laying it next to the other toys.
I am so lost in these memories, that at first, I do not notice her. My pet, always so curious, is investigating the toys. She's plunged her hands into the red rope, and it bunches up around her fingers and wrists. She gazes up at me with her beautiful green eyes.
Suddenly, I wonder what her soft skin would look like, bound underneath these ropes.
No! Even if she would look pretty with ropes wrapped around her, my task is not to imagine what she might look like. I have two main tasks left, which are to work on the communication plan with her and list the ways to rid myself of aggressive urges. She's disrupting that activity with her presence, so I simply pick her up and place her on my chair across the room.
She's very persistent. Despite my effort to move her out of the way, only moments later her head pops out near the tools. This time she bats at the cuffs, and they fall onto the floor.
This is not working. Time to try a new approach. I grab my pet, firmly holding her and affixing the bell to her collar.
"Initiate the translator," I tell my wall unit.
"Translator activated," says the tinny voice from my wall.
I flick her bell and it tinkles. "Pet, listen carefully. I'd like to try something with you."