Challenge #01956-E132: Impressive, But...
"Hmm... I'm impressed."
"I/We thought you'd like it."
"I said I was impressed, not that I like it." -- TheDragonsFlame
There are certain things that were just... impressive. A cellar full of drunk middle-schoolers chanting Fuck da police whilst a policeman is present. Singing, This is me giving a shit, in front of a man who has the power of life and death over you after he has just attempted to insult you. Staging a resistance against a superior force, alone, with nothing but a horse and an ancient sword.
Impressive does not always mean good. Especially in this case, with the three beaming Humans and the captive leader of the Hol'draxi.
The Humans were what one might call heavily scuffed if one didn't know the details of this particular escapade. One that somehow involved three Ship's Humans, each from separate ships, finding each other in the chaos of war and then getting a brilliant idea. Which is worse than it sounds when it's a janitor, a mess chef, and a morale officer doing the thing.
Apparently, the three of them were fast friends via the inter-ship info-network before everything went, as Officer Wexford was wont to say, pants.
When each of their ships were in different degrees of interesting trouble. Each of these Humans' ships had suffered damage that rendered them and the crews therein in peril. As Th'vix understood it, one had the engines impeded, one had the navigation module blow out, and the third's guns were minimally responsive. Each Ship's Human took this as a cue to go and save their friend.
Then Sanitation Engineer Thorn's rescue pod got captured by the Hol'draxi, and all bets were off. Two friends immediately went to rescue the third. And, through a series of misadventures, the Hol'draxi learned how deadly a combination these three humans could be.
Thorn, as a Sanitation Engineer, knew exactly which cleansing chemicals one should not permit to mix, ever, and why. Chef Ngo had an integral knowledge of some other chemistries, and a solid knowledge of how to use blades of any size. Morale Officer Wexford, a student of psychology, knew how to use both of these to put the wind up the enemy.
And this was before anyone investigated these humans' hobbies.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, indeed. And this particular slice of victory was simple proof as to why the Galactic Alliance didn't allow more than one human on any ship at any time. They might have to expand it to one human per fleet for simple safety reasons.
On the other hand, three lower-ranking crew of Th'vix's fleet had captured the leader of the Hol'draxi. They looked immensely proud of themselves, too. This despite evident wounds, ruptures in their livesuits, and somehow managing to survive an ongoing battle in a ship they'd made out of two rescue pods and a Hol'draxi stinger drone. And they'd managed to... hobble... some Hol'draxi ships on their way back to their allies.
Th'vix listened to their story in an increasing state of agog. Forced to remember some ancient human history of how one human managed to stop a superior force by calmly drinking a cup of tea and inviting the opposing general to join them.
If one human can do that, three of them must have been flakking unstoppable...
"I'm... impressed," Th'vix allowed.
"We thought you'd like it," said Wexford.
"I said 'impressed', not that I like it," she sighed. The Hol'draxi Admiral was... 'scuffed', himself. Roughed up a bit, as the Humans would say. "Do sit him up as comfortably as you can. I shall attempt to negotiate."
The Humans looked a little crestfallen, but followed her orders. One even dusted off some plates of the Hol'draxi's livesuit.
"The action undertaken against you was unauthorised," said Th'vix. "However, before I apologise for it, I must give you something to consider." A pause for effect whilst she calmly sipped her chosen beverage. "I have two hundred ships. Each with a Ship's Human. What has happened was due to the acts of three humans." Phalanges held up for emphasis of the number. "Can you picture what could happen to you and your fleet if I authorised all of them to wreak havoc on your fleet?"
Admiral Hexxos of the Hol'draxi could, indeed, imagine such a scenario. Th'vix watched his carapace flash panic colours. "If we surrender unconditionally," he offered, "will you keep them away from us?"
Pax Humanis indeed. Psychopaths not necessary.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / NASAimages]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends!
Send me a prompt [12 remaining prompts!]