Subdivisions

Ezekiel held his rifle's sights transfixed on the neck of the lead horse creature, awkwardly standing at his full height. He would not be the first to shoot. He refused out of the purest of embarrassments to be the first to fire a shot, and kill the sorry creature. They had, after all, lowered their weapons and surrendered. There was no honor in killing them unarmed. He noticed the eyes of his target fall to the man who had collapsed in his vomit, and was now being retrieved from it by two other men. Ezekiel's heart failed at two beats, when forming from the corners of the creatures eyes, were pools of clear liquid that resembled tears. As well, never once did it take its eyes off of the collapsed man. A vague sensation of disturbance flooded his mind as he realized that the damned thing was crying over the fallen man. What sort of weakness was this creature so prone to that It would be brought to tears over the sight of an alien creature collapsing from exhaustion?

He then came to recognize something else about the creature. In a slight glint that made itself evident as it craned its neck up to look at him once more, Ezekiel noticed among the gold plating a plethora of brass symbols that covered the clothing beneath the armor in an orderly and organized fashion. It at once became evident that this creature, no matter how alien and disgusting, was an officer in the military of its people. Compelled by instinct, Ezekiel at once lowered the muzzle of his weapon to face the floor, and turned the safety on. A hand retreated from the rifle, and rose to nearly meet his temple in a compulsive salute. Now Ezekiel noticed that brazen upon the breasts of all of the creatures were indiscernible badges of rank and accomplishment, all worthy of recognition. As he did so, he felt the air of tension ascend into space from behind him, and guessed that upon his doing so, the others had also lowered their rifles, and were following his salute. The tears in the eyes of the horse creature grew to begin their path down his unnaturally curved face, and with a slow and innocent rising of its hoof and leg, shocked Ezekiel by returning the salute to them all.

Both stunned and taken aback by the familiarity of the response, Ezekiel lowered his hand abruptly, and strapped it tightly to his side. The military traditions these creatures shared with humans were uncanny in their likeness, and assaulted him with their similarity. Were the terms of honor that universal? Ezekiel had almost forgotten the disgust with which had previously regarded the horned beast, and opening his mouth again, spoke up to break the devious silence.

"Do you understand the words that I speak to you?" He said, and held his breath. The creature seemed to choke back more tears, and instead of replying in speech, nodded slowly. Ezekiel pondered the answer for a moment. He spun his neck around with brutal agony to his collar to gaze at the faces of the men behind him. They were solemn, with bag-eyed faces that suggested thoughts and feeling close to those that he knew he felt at the moment. He returned to the miniature horses, which only stood to his middle torso, and answered with a slight nod of his own. "I think It would be best if we took you to see our leaders. If you would follow us, please." Ezekiel motioned to five of the most conscious-looking men in the bunch, and made his way around the group of natives through the doorway. As he had commanded, the followed him out the door, and were gradually surrounded escort-style by the men he had chosen. By personal choice, Ezekiel decided he would relinquish his foremast position, and strode near the back of the encirclement. His boots still slipped on the polished metal floor from the solution of vile substances that caked it, while oddly coupling the odd sound of hooves clacking in a slow walk. Within the group, he thought he heard the whispering of two of the creatures to one another in plain Terran.

"I thought they were supposed to ask to see OUR leaders."

The bulkhead minor door to hull sector A slid open with the same hydraulic droning, as the entourage of men and horse entered the bridge hallway divide. A guard posted on the other side of the door raised his weapon on sight, and commanded them angrily.

"Hold up right there. Drop your weapons and step away from the- the ponies." He stuttered. Now that Ezekiel thought of it, they did resemble some sort of pony. Horse breeding was a rather prevalent business on Ilearsi, still practiced for the purpose of selling the animals off.

The marine leading the escort detail addressed the guard. "Listen, we just came from the starboard firing range some ten kilometers away. We need these natives to speak to captain and the others. This one here is an official of military rank from this planet, and I think it more than  necessary that they talk as soon as possible."

"Listen marine. I don't have to take shit from you right now. Command is in there getting its shit together after the lights turned back on, and they don't have time for talking horses." The guard growled back. The marine took a step back, and dropped his weapon. At the drop, Ezekiel flinched for fear that it would discharge in the hallway. To his relief it only clattered to the floor with a series of ear-splitting cracks.

The marine raised his hands, and began to spit back at the guard. "Listen asshole. We got a whole ship full of busted up navy and marine men and women here, and I frankly don't think we have the medical people to treat them. If we can get any help whatsoever from anyone whatsoever, then that is more than fine by me, should be more than fine by you, and will be more than fine by the captain himself. You know how I know that? Because unlike your sorry ass who couldn't think their way out of a plastic bag, command is probably all up in there discussing what to do to try and save everyone on this ship before they die like animals. You hear me?"

Had the guard not been wearing a helmet, Ezekiel would have been sure that he would have been witness to one of the most furious and putrid expressions he had ever seen in his life, as with the obvious sound of speaking through gritted teeth, the guard gave a slow reply. "Fine. I'll take 'em in. Just get off the damn bridge hull you cocky wastes of space." He lowered his rifle tensely, and the marine ahead retrieved his from the floor. Doing as he had been commanded, Ezekiel was the first to turn around, and exit the hallway in haste. On his heels were the other men, a dull murmur of conversation buzzing among them. A hand placed on Ezekiel's shoulder spun him around, as he realized that he was being spoken to. The group had come to a stop, and spoke in an lenient huddle.

"Hey, get back over here man." The marine commanded him. Reluctantly Ezekiel followed. It was now that Ezekiel recognized the marine as a Gault. The Gaultic man turned back to the group, and seemed to continue his conversation in a low voice. "Yeah, can you believe that asshole? We just found a bunch of native alien horses that speak our same language and he thinks that that's not important enough."

Another man in naval attire added to the remark. "Hey what about those things? What's the deal with them speaking Terran? I heard a couple of them whispering to each other here and there while we were on our way. They spoke it like they were born knowing it, and I've never heard of anything like them before in Federation territory. And I'd know, I watched the news."

A third voice joined in. "Okay first off, I don't think they'd talk about some creatures like these on GNN. They use swords and spears for God's sake. If you ask me, I'd say they're a Federation Experiment to grow a smart species on another planet.  Genetic Reconstruction and all that Godless shit. And two, You know how long we were in warp? I'd say at least a day and a half. that's enough time to get half way across Federation space, and my gut's telling me we're not in Federation space."

Ezekiel was surprised at how extremely opinionated his comrades were. To him they were just another species of alien that they just happened to run into by accident. What else was there to consider? The only other thing that nagged his mind was the similar way in which they salute one another within the military. The marine did have a point though. With the power having been knocked out for so long, there was little chance many of the food supplies they would need to survive had stayed intact during and after the crash. They would need the help of these creatures, no matter the circumstances and his individual thoughts on them.

"Whatever the case man, I got a feeling that we're gonna be stuck with 'em for a while." The Gaultic marine said. "I remember hearing that ships that crash into planets from space don't tend to be able to fly for a very long time, and that's if it's a federation planet. The spears and metal plates they worse don't give me a lot of hope that they'll be able to repair a Battlecruiser."

"I don't know about you," one of the navy men said, "but I'm going back to my quarters and packing anything I feel like taking with me. I'd say they're gonna take us all off the ship soon and send us somewhere. Check us for disease and what not." With the words, the man left the group, and strode hurriedly down the hallway. Another of the men followed close behind him, probably taking the idea and with similar intent.

The last navy man smirked, and chuckled to himself. "Disease, yeah right. Hey guys, I had a cough before the crash. You think they're gonna put me in a bubble?"

Ezekiel was confused. "I do not know. I do not think A cough is enough to warrant a biohazard. Maybe if they speak our language, they are immune to our same diseases?"

The Gaultic man stared at him speculatively, then looked at the navy man. "I don't know about you, but I think I'd put him in a bubble to make sure I don't catch whatever kind of stupid he's got." At the remark, both burst to laughter.

Just to be sure he wasn't missing out on good fun, he joined in with the cackling.