Worldbuilding Prompt #599 - Nightmares Are Fuel - Alex's Saga #16

Welcome to the next episode in the Space Opera saga of Alex Deroma.

I'm carrying on with the idea of using the brilliant writing prompts in the Worldbuilding Community to determine which direction the story goes in. The one I'm using for this episode is; Worldbuilding Prompt #599 - Nightmares

I thought I'd challenge myself a little by allowing myself to use only the most recent prompt. It took a couple of days of letting my twisted subconscious mind mull it over, I hope you like the result !

She was surrounded by giant Slavers; reptilians with scales the colour of blood and a stench like rotting meat. They towered over her, a wall of armoured flesh, as she in turn stood over the cowering, terrified Kerber children, wanting to shield them somehow.

With a scream of defiance, she hurled herself at the monsters. Her sabre cut two down, but was no match for the heavy battle axes they wielded. Their blows knocked her weapon aside. She felt every impact as the massive blades slammed into her unarmoured body, hacking off her arms and splitting her skull. Behind her, she could hear the children being butchered.

She woke screaming.

Garrad was holding her down by her shoulders to try to calm her and Hilshirr, her Kerber orderly, was holding out a glass of water with an expression of worry on his small, friendly face. Worry... and something else, something indescribable.

Slowly, she calmed herself. She felt dreadful, as if she hadn't slept for a year. For the last two weeks, this nightmare had stalked her. Every night, it had come. Every morning, she had woken up screaming at the vivid images.

She had won her victory against the Slavers on this world. The Kerber were free. But she felt ill at ease, in a kind of limbo. She had made this place home, but knew that she was an Imperial, and didn't really belong here. She missed Trass Yalandri more and more every day. Her X.O. friend and lover. She had no idea if they would ever be rescued, or if she and Garrad would remain the only two Imperials on Margal VI.

Even worse, although the Kerber were adapting well to being free for the first time in a thousand generations, there was clearly something wrong with them, something going on.

Sure, they were setting up a basic form of government, and working out what they needed to get organised to survive and build a new civilisation. But they seemed somehow on edge. Distracted. Gathering in small groups and just standing silently for half an hour or more, before dispersing just as silently. Something was definitely going on, but she had no idea what.

It was two mornings later. She had awakened screaming again from the same vivid and terrifying nightmare. This time, she had cut three Slavers down before they chopped her into dogmeat.

But outside, she heard commotion. Jumping up, she grabbed her sword and yanked the door open. The Kerber were running back and forth, grabbing any weapon they could. They were disturbed, but they weren't panicked. No, they were angry, revving themselves up to fight.

In the sky, she saw a flame. The glaring plasma retro-rockets of a ship coming down towards the spaceport. Were the Slavers back ? Was that what the Kerber were getting ready for ?

But no; there were no assault shuttles, no orbital bombardment. What was it ?

Then she saw the ship that rode the pillar of descending fire. Her heart jumped. It was Imperial ! A Type 21 light cruiser, and painted in the colours of her own Battle Corps !

It took nearly an hour to calm the Kerber, find one of the few remaining vehicles left by the Slavers and get to the spaceport.

There, the cruiser sat on it's landing gear, the plasma jets ticking at irregular intervals as they cooled. It was surrounded by a crowd of curious but cautious and well-armed Kerber. The landing ramp was down, and a small squad of Imperial Marines stood guard, trying hard to look relaxed and unthreatening.

Image created by AI in NightCafe Studio

The Kerber parted for Alex and Garrad as they approached the landing ramp. The Marines looked confused. From their perspective they saw two humans, different to the small, furry locals; a man in the ragged remains of an Imperial uniform, and a bare-breasted woman with a savage-looking bird on her shoulder, feathers in her hair, a red fur kilt, and a cape that seemed to be made of the scales of some slain reptile.

Then a voice rang out from the top of the ramp.

"Alex !"

It was Trass ! She was in full uniform, the royal blue of her jacket matching her cerulean blue skin, and she was wearing the insignia of an admiral, reversed to indicate it was an acting post not a full promotion.

Throwing decorum and protocol to the wind, she ran down the ramp and enveloped Alex in a massive hug. Shade joined in by leaning over and wrapping a wing around Trass's head.

After a while, she stepped back and looked Alex up and down. "By the Emperors teeth, I thought you looked outlandish when we came aboard the Moonfall, what with your eyepatch, limp and Shade. But this is just... incredible. You look like one of Harshozni's barbarian wild riders from the legends ! What happened ? I thought we'd have to rescue you as you hid from Slavers or something. Where are they all ?"

The words were just tumbling out of Trass's mouth in confusion. Realising she was babbling, she stopped. It gave Alex a chance to try to explain.

"The Slavers are dead. All of them. These people you see are the Kerber. They were slaves. I was their figurehead, leading as they rose up and destroyed every Slaver on this world. They may look cute and furry but if you get them stirred up, they are an unstoppable force of nature. It's like they can form some kind of psychic bond to all focus on the same goal. Yes, I know our scientists say telepathy is impossible, but I can't find any other way to explain it."

Trass looked intently at the Kerber, then back toward Alex. "Umm, you're not going to believe this, but I think you might be right. For the last two weeks we've been intercepting Slaver signals. They're trying to contain a major uprising. The imagery we're getting is fragmentary, but in each case the slaves that are rising look like these Kerber of yours. It's like a ripple emanating from this system."

She could feel herself going pale. "Trass. Two weeks ago I started having nightmares. Two weeks ago, the Kerber started behaving in odd ways. If the Slavers populated nearby colonies with other Kerber.... is it possible that somehow the rising here is sending some kind of telepathic signal to the others ?"

Trass nodded uncertainly. "I guess... it's possible. I have no idea how. All I know is that after their losses at the Battle of Tharwell, the Slavers are struggling to find the reserves to contain slave revolts in so many places at once."

Alex made a decision. "I led the Kerber to freedom here. If my nightmares are the fuel that's causing them to rise elsewhere, then stuff our orders, we have to smash Slaver troop convoys. We have to protect the Kerber."

To be continued.....