As he rounded another corner under his guide's direction, the man ran into more than he'd bargained for. throwing a hand out to catch the wall, he stopped hard, and leapt backwards, ignoring the worried tones of the crew members behind him. As he suddenly turned, they sang out in surprise, some even pointed their weapons at him.

He opted to ignore them, as he set his passenger down against the wall and brought up a finger to his lips to shush them with a quick burst of air.

This was, of course, only met with only confused and anxious looks, so he tried another gesture of curling fingers, as he slowly moved to approach the corner yet again.

That one, at least, seemed to work a little better. The need for caution seemed to have been communicated. There, together with the crew, the man peered around into the next hall.

It was not a pleasant scene.

The crew and their unorthodox ship-beast were presented with a view of narrowly avoided danger: Over a dozen of their blood thirsty intruders were milling about up ahead. In their midst was a long hollow vent which seemed to have diagonally pierced the ceiling. As another creature slipped out of it.

It seemed they had found the point of entry.

What's more, is their enemies had their attention directed elsewhere.

None of the wart covered aliens seemed to be even remotely concerned with standing watch. Instead, they were performing some type of... complicated operation.

Heavy tools were in place, working on a giant set of doors which sealed the end of the hallway. The man squinted as he tried to get a better look, watching as the air seemed thick sparks, and his nose filled with the smell of burnt metal. Many limbs raised with irritated shouts and gurgles that rebounded with the sounds of further metal cutting under heavy sparks.

Whatever was at the end of the hall was of great importance to the invaders.

Ducking back past the armed crew, the ship-beast moved back from the corner, coming to a stop before his wounded companion. The crew member in white had certainly seen better days. Though her leg had apparently stopped bleeding, and even seemed to have healed over slightly, her solid green eyes seemed to be dulled, and her song of recognition was weak. The pale flesh around the wound seemed to have taken a slightly lighter shade of blue than the blood which stained the white uniform around it, and gave off the impression of pain.

He wasn't sure what medical care was possible, but the man knew waiting in a hall wasn't going to do them any good. He needed to find a way to bring all of this to an end, and soon.

Turning back towards the corner, his eyes narrowed.

It was time to finish this.

...

[Di'her]

Di'her watched as crew members peeked their heads around the corner individually to check the hall again, before returning to fiddle with their weapons. Only the Stewards and shipmaster Yitale had ever really handled those things, and the crew members likely didn't know how to use them at all. She had not caught a solid glance before the beast had pushed her back behind the safety of the walls, but the quiet anxious rhythms told her more than enough of what waited for them.

It wasn't good.

As those songs died, the crew eventually settled to look at the beast. It stared back at them, and offered them nothing in return of their silence but it's own. But, that was deceptive.

She had begun to come to terms with it's intelligence: while the creature was quiet and unreadable, it had been a huge mistake to presume it was stupid. At this point, she even wondered how much of her speech it understood, as it clearly reacted to her.

Opening her mouth, she sang a familiar greeting to it. and waited a moment as the beast held the gazes of the crew, before it finally turned once more to her. At first she had thought that it was looking for guidance, or instruction, but now she felt differently.

It was assessing them, she realized. As if weighing their options.

And Di'her was doing the same.

Covered in wounds, the ship-beast was hardly in perfect shape. Burns coated it's torso, and though none had pierced it's hide, exhaustion was evident upon it's strange features. The clear blood had been running down its face for some time, but thankfully that hadn't seemed to slow it down, though it had seemed particularly focused on her leg.

Pausing her thoughts, she motioned at her wound, and watched as the beast seemed to grow agitated. She could almost hear the tendons in its arms creaking as it's hands clenched into a solid ball of flesh. Soft pops were audible as it's joints shifted and pressure released.

Di'her tried not to think about how much strength the creature in front of her possessed.

Truly, anger radiated off of it as much as heat did. The crew hadn't been certain that Shipmaster Yitale had truly managed to bond the creature before, but now it seemed almost beyond doubt. That rage, as if it was burning fusion fuel on the lowest setting, was like an oven. The creature's skin seemed a furnace in the cold air of the ship. And it was no wonder: those in charge of feeding it had told Di'her that the creature ate more than five of the crew put together. A metabolism like that was unheard of...

But, if she looked carefully, her eyes could actually seem make out what might be steam rising off of it's skin.

The ship was beginning to chill faster now, which meant their life support had been forced to focus the particle fields into one location for a tremendous output. In all likelihood the ship was starting to draw power from anything it could to simply keep the air within the ship. In a few rotations, chances were good that they would likely freeze to death if the situation didn't improve.

A heavy cough came from the beast, and she saw something red drip from the creatures strange snout. It wiped it away and showed her it's teeth while curling back it's lips. That terrifying gesture apparently meant something other than wanting to eat her, though she wasn't totally certain what. Though, she could guess.

Di'her didn't understand the ship-beast anymore than it did her, but she had grasped that her pain, and the pain of others seemed to impact it. The blood from it's eyes was not solely from physical wounds. The way it had stared at her fallen comrades, and had flinched at her and the others sobbing. It clearly understood.

It understood and it was angry. Very, very angry.

Suddenly it rose up and turned away from her, a liberated sword gripped in each hand. Its walk was steady and determined as it passed the crew, and it's shoulders seemed to tense as it took massive gulps of air. She sang out again. While they couldn't speak a word to one another, there was an understanding of sorts, and there was an apology in that song.

As if prompted, the ship-beast turned for one last look over it's shoulder. It set one sword down, brought it's feet together, and in a strangely formal gesture brought it's right hand to it's forehead. One that shown with discipline, and respect.

The crew stared, and the creature stared back.

Then, one by one the crew brought their hands to their foreheads in a mimicry of the gesture.

It seemed right.

Then, the shipbeast showed it's teeth one more time, and let out a puff of air in an amused fashion before retrieving the weapon at it's feet. Without any further warning, it lifted the blade to it's shoulder, tensed it's muscles, and rounded the corner where almost certain death awaited.

...

Yitale was barely conscious as the Sikka carved into her. Her tail was only partly flayed, but it had decided to focus on her other parts in it's stead. The creature had trimmed a sliver off of her right arm, and then seemed to shift to her legs while it chewed the strips of her flesh and hair with relish. She'd lost all fight, long ago, and now she was simply bleeding. Draining out from countless of such strips at this point, covering her entire body, wishing simply for death to release her.

As it turned back she realized she wouldn't have to wait long.

Gurgling in amusement, it brought out another blade with a serrated edge. Warty covered skin rippled, as its jaws pulled back into a large predatory grin, slowly bringing the weapon down down to her stomach to apply pressure. She screamed with all her remaining strength, one last spurt of struggle escaping her.

She didn't want to die like this.

Not like this.

Suddenly, the creature tensed, and began heaving blood in desperate gasps, covering her flayed skin and torn cloak in deep green gore, it collapsed, and she could make out the end of a blade that had impaled it deeply through it's chest. The creature coiled in death's embrace as it fell off of her, contracting with a loud rattling sound of lungs deflating and tendons pulling taunt.

Yitale turned her head with the last of her strength.

Had it been one of her crew?

Had rescue responded, and come to their aid?

No: instead she found death.

It was in it's purest form, as violent and destructive as a Rullah in its final moments: there in her line of sight was the beautiful, gruesome dance of death.

Her ship-beast was in combat.

With it's back to her, the creature flowed with grace, from one strange form to the next. Each movement had a purpose, each placement of those powerful limbs had a target. The mask of a docile and tame beast had fallen off, the curtains had dropped and the disguise was no more.

In it's place was a god of retribution. As if embodying all of the rage and hatred Yitale had ever felt.

Muscles tensed, stretched, released. Soft impacts of its feet seemed to pit and pat like rain drops as it moved. It shot its legs out in kicks which seemed to ripple the very air upon their impact, and jumped with such strength that it seemed to fly. The raiders were hard pressed just to hold their ground as it spun between them.

Some darted around and attempted to leave the beast to the others, while they went to finish the job at hand. If that maneuver had worked on past ships, it failed completely here. If a creature tried to break rank and approach her instead, the beast shifted like the discharge of a light-round. More than one being had ended up splattered against the wall of the bridge by a brutal body-slam.

The enemy boarding party tried again and again to bring it down; again and again they failed- for the beast fought with disturbing speed. The enemies that attempting to overwhelm it were broken in quick bursts of deadly force as the guardian's reaction time proved far more capable than their own. One of the many limbed pirates leapt at the beast in a suicidal attempt to end the matter once and for all, it's blade head high above it's head with multiple limbs for a downward stab. Turning just in time, the ship-beast angled it's torso and rotated at the hips to strike out with it's paw, or fist; it mattered not the terminology to Yitale, because the impact literally ripped the head of the attacking alien from it's shoulders and ruined the trajectory of it's weapon. Blood showered in a green mist behind the impact.

The sword slid down the ship-beasts' back as the creatures headless body crashed into the beast, and for the first time Yitale saw it bleed.

Truly, bleed.

Red.

Blood as red as her home planet's star dripped from the long dark gash. Her ship-guardian seemed to tremble in pain as it fell to one knee, heaving heavily. It was then she saw how grave the situation truly was. When it was in motion it had seemed unstoppable, as if a force of nature, but now that it had stopped she could assess the damage. Burns covered it, and it's skin was utterly discolored with purple and black bruises where those had not yet reached.

How many times must have fought before arriving at the bridge?

Taking advantage of the temporary ceasefire that had occurred, the remaining raiders had drawn their firearms and let out a volley of everything those contained. The wave of light-rounds struck it, and the beast reacted quickly in a practiced maneuver: raising its arms together as a shield to block the shots aimed at it's face and eyes. From where she lay, she could smell it's flesh, which burned and smoked in sudden spots of scar tissue. The disgusting scent of tainted fire.

Yet, the beast held it's guard through the onslaught, covering it's eyes in silence, as it waited.

Red blood dripped on the floor in a slow and steady rhythm, and it waited.

Patient.

Practiced.

Finally the shots lessened, then completely ceased, as the boarding party attempted to reload. The beast wasn't dead, and though it wasn't moving, none of the pirates seemed to want to go closer and finish it by hand. Their panic and fumbling with their reloading reached a fever pitch as the guardian began to move again, slowly forcing it's limbs into motion with one heavy inhalation at a time.

Surely the thing must be incapacitated by now. Surely...

Yet, defying all logic the creature began to rise. Slowly, one of its hands reached out, to pluck a sword off the floor. One that was stained red, from the strike that had sliced open it's back.

Then, it began to march.

Dripping red with blood, it loomed like a storm, unstoppable as it moved forward towards the remainder of its opponents. Their screams died on their warty lips as the sword fell with speed of the like Yitale had never seen. Heads rolling, limbs flying, bodies utterly bisected from brutal, violent, cuts.

Soon there was nothing but silence.

What deathworld had this monstrocity come from, Yitale could only wonder as it left her sight. Stalking down the halls, away from the carnage.

What horrors had its species survived, to become something so dangerous?

She listened as it's slow steady steps took it down the ramp and around the corner without stopping to so much as glance at them, and the quiet songs of disbelief and fear rang out behind her. Gently, she felt the touch of her spawn, finally catching sight of the faces as they laid their hands upon her shoulders and cheek. Those places may be the only portion of her that would remain unscarred. She knew it to be true.

From what had already been done to her, not even a medical unit could fix her wounds entirely.

Yitale remained silent and fought back the song of agony and sadness as her wounds ached. She couldn't bring herself to speak as she rolled her head to stare at the corner again. Their enemies were dead, and they were safe- but at what cost? What did it matter if the invaders were replaced by a demon of her own making, a creature that might casually murder them with ease if they set it off? She had been a true fool to think she was ready for another ship-beast: a true fool.

Her song of agony was beginning to pierce her lips when she saw them. Her view of the hall was filled as they came walking up the ramp. One by one surviving crew began to appear, and one by one they began to embrace their fellows who walked forward to meet them. She fought with everything she had to hold back her song of pain with all she had as the creature returned with a wounded crew member on it's blood covered back.

It was only after it laid the medical officer down with what appeared to be a measure of careful restraint that the beast turned to Yitale and approached. It seemed to shake with effort as it brought itself down to the ground on it's knees. Slowly it pointed to her, it's arms covered in burns, it's chest coated in many more. It pointed to her and her scars, while it's hands seemed to waver in fierce trembling. It curled it's lips back to reveal it's large white teeth, and took a single deep breath before collapsing backwards.

Her wounded medical officer seemed to struggle, trying over and over to rise. Second medical engineer Di'her if Yitale's memory was still serving her. The younger Siren was barely lucid, and her singing was soft, but Yitale could make out the words clearly in the silence that held over the ship. Her words repeating over and over, even as she gasped out in pain.

“This is no simple beast, shipmaster." She gasped. "This is no beast.”

With a heavy sigh the creature on the floor next to her exhaled as it closed it's eyes. Then, the guardian of her ship moved no more, but the strange gesture of it's lips remained: curled back into a deep grin.

...

Zort had fled back to his ship after he watched another five of his men on the bridge being torn apart by the vicious animal. He knew without a single doubt the others would soon meet a similar fate.

That beast... frozen depths of the void: it was like nothing he had ever seen. The perfect killing machine, packed into a form that almost seemed benign. It was beyond the point of absurdity, and the damned thing was fracking smart. He had watched it pick up and fire a light-rifle with accuracy, drop it, and pick up a sword in time to intercept one of his most vicious crew members- and then promptly decapitate him.

No.

No, Zort wanted nothing more to do with it.

That thing was straight from the nightmares of a forbidden planet, the kind that used to exist in the distant millennia before intelligent life took to the stars. Such things should no longer exist, and should certainly not exist in some random no-name trader's ship in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. That was a guardian beast from hell itself, how a shipmaster came to tame it Zort couldn't even comprehend.

To make matters worse he was locked in place, the injector held his ship as firmly as it held theirs, and he couldn't detach without a crew to operate the mechanism at it's mouth. That crew just happened to be scattered all over the walls now, and Zort had a feeling he would be too if he didn't make haste. Combination codes were entered rapidly by each of Zort's four upper limbs. He'd be damned before he died over some shitty trade ship.

Perhaps it was time to consider retirement.

Zort entered the ship lifepod, the only one he had ever installed. It held everything he could need, and a little extra. He had never had to use it, and generally speaking pirates had little use for such things. Their field of work was something of a total commitment, and escape usually wasn't an option. Zort was uncharacteristic in that regard though, he had always liked having a backup plan.

As he punched the button to eject, he wondered momentarily if he had forgotten anything important. As the pod prepared to launch he checked the systems. Everything seemed normal, he even had his currency in a digitized format built into the hard-system, he could land rich on any civilized planet and live like nobility without issue. As the lifepod launched from the ship with a tremendous burst of speed he was still wondering what he had forgotten, and he kept wondering until he was ripped from existence by an asteroid.

Wrecks were almost unheard in recent times. Almost.