Mandy and the Tentacle Monster (Urf Oomons #1)

Mandy and the Tentacle Monster: Chapter 19



Baht unfolds himself from inside the small space inside the auto-drone. It was so startling to see him with his dark cloak and his bright red eyes, that I’m embarrassed to say I let out a shriek. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He shrinks back from the volume of my scream and then immediately straightens.

“Apologies.”

“What-,” I start, at a loss, but didn’t know what to say. A part of me is happy to see him. I have been alone for more than two months with no way to contact anybody, and here is a person. Not the person I would have liked, but a real, live person speaking to me.

Another part is yelling in my head, reminding me of everything Seven had told me about this guy. And Seven isn’t here to save me from him! I need to get away. It’s like when you’re watching a horror movie and the screaming girl stands there. And you want to yell at the screen, “RUN DUMMY!”

Well, that was me, frozen there in front of a killer.

But there’s nowhere to go on this whole ship.

“Please, forgive my intrusion,” he says, remaining a distance away from me, “I am here to offer my assistance.”

Then he’s looking at me.

“Assistance?” I ask.

“Yes.”

And then he’s back to staring.

I open my mouth to say something but close it. I don’t know what I should do.

“I’m going to eat lunch. You can come with and tell me why you’re here.”

He dips his hooded head in agreement.

“Don’t try to eat me. Humans taste awful. All gamey and stringy. You wouldn’t enjoy it.” I warn him, all false bravado.

“I will not. You are safe with me, Tiny.”

“That’s probably what you tell all your snacks.” I mutter, annoyed at how defenseless I am here.

While I scarf down noodles, Baht explains that he had been messaging the ship. He was trying to negotiate a trade, but got no response. He contacted Salhutech, who hadn’t heard back from us either.

Baht admitted to sneaking a tracking device onto our ship when he was last here.

I pause my noodle consumption and raise an eyebrow at him, “A tracking device? Whatever for?”

“A delicate little ‘snack’ had been handed over to three incompetent felptrigs. Idiots who were bumbling through space with out any defenses to speak of. As their charge danced around the corridors with a fortune in Crimbulonian credits on her hips. It occurred to me that you may run into trouble. For some reason, I decided to care,” he affected a nonchalant stance against the wall nearest my table. I wondered why he wouldn’t sit. Then I remembered what seven had said about him being a giant spider scrunched up under that tiny robe. Probably hard to sit properly.

“What’s a ‘felptrig’?” I ask.

“A rude Urglassi word for one of your Homeworlder fellows. It means “egg-laying parasite””

“Well, that is rude. Let’s not use that word anymore,” I demand.

He tips his head.

“Ok, so you’re here to help?” I ask as I place my empty dish in the reclamation bin.

“Yes,” he stands as I move toward the door.

“Can you help find the security logs? I want to see what happened here seventy days ago. I haven’t been able to access them.”

“I can help with that,” he assures me.

He leads me toward an alcove and as soon as we are near a screen pops up.

“How did you do that?” I pester him, “Do you have implants for it?”

“No. I have a natural affinity for computers. They like me and they want to give me all their secrets. I do not need implants,” he states casually like what he’s said is not completely nuts.

“Be serious.”

“I am. It is a talent among my kind.”

“Your kind?” I ask, playing ignorance.

He side-eyes me with those glowing orbs, “Yes. I am sure you know, what with all your “humans taste awful” comments.”

I don’t respond.

He’s pulled up a live feed of us standing in this alcove, but then it pauses. And then it is moving backward. Faster and faster the video rewinds and I see myself wandering alone throughout the ship.

Then there’s tons of action, there are people I don’t recognize on our ship. One looks like a blue Darth maul, another looks like a giant purple cat. Anyway, they are strangers. And they are armed with what look like guns. Though I doubt anyone with a lick of sense would us a gun that shoots bullets on a space-ship. They probably shoot energy or lasers or something.

Suddenly the strangers are gone and Baht pauses the video, then plays it forward. The display is divided up into rectangles showing a feed from each room on the ship. There is Lu swimming in some giant pool that I didn’t even know we have. There’s Ken eating noodles. And there’s Seven, in the shuttle bay fucking me against an auto-drone.

“You can move it forward about an hour and a half.”

He does without saying anything. Maybe he didn’t see.

I watch Seven scoop me up naked, carry me to my room, and tuck me into bed. I don’t remember any of that. I see him join Lu who’s in the dining room. Then they have a heated discussion, both of them turning a sooty dark grey by the end of it.

When they part company, I notice the fog. Or it may be smoke. I can’t tell where it’s coming from, but it’s filling every room. The guys have all fallen over. Their upper torsos cushioned by their tentacled lower halves. The fog clears and that’s when the intruders come on board. They seemed to have docked their ship to our shuttle bay. They enter casually as you please, scoop up the guys one at a time, and put them through the port they had opened. Then the port seals. My guys are gone. Seven is gone. I’m about to wake up and start looking for him. I feel so bad for my past self and what she’s about to go through. What I’m still going through.

Baht turns to me and informs me, “Those are bounty hunters. I believe the ruling body of Homeworld Two has you companions. Probably in cryo-detention.”

“How do I get them back?” I remember that they brought it up time and again that they were breaking Homeworlder laws by having me aboard. I guess I thought it was no big deal because they seemed so relaxed about it.

“We can start by asking politely. Let’s compose a message, send it to Homeworld Two and see how it is received.” Baht suggests.

“That’s as good an idea as any.”

We work together on the message for a few minutes. It goes like this:

Greetings Homeworld Two,

You have detained three traders recently. What needs to happen to secure their release? I look forward to a solution. Their presence is urgently required aboard their ship.

Respectfully,

Mandy aka “Tiny” of Earth

We send it off to Homeworld Two.


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