The Drinker and the Sentinel

Author Note: Give me a little time for plot development up front, and then you'll get hardcore sci fi with alien nonconsent and some interstellar girl-girl action.

*

In the silence of deep space, Valerie finished her inspection circuit of the recon station's exterior. Satisfied that all of the surfaces looked good, she pulled herself along the lifeline and re-entered her ship, waiting patiently until the airlock repressurized before removing her helmet. She raked her fingers through her hair to smooth it back out, and made a mental note that it was time to give it a trim.

Humming a nameless tune amidst the quiet, she stripped off her spacesuit and remained nude as she put it away. With no other humanity present for billions of miles, there was no reason to do laundry, and onboard nudity had become a Sentinel tradition. She padded to the comm station, treading lightly in the artificial gravity of the rotating structure, and sat down as she flipped a switch.

"Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569," she reported with a well-practiced cadence. "I've completed my routine structural check and am back inside the shell. All systems are good. Oh, and no traffic or activity today. Just another day in paradise."

She didn't expect a response. It would take a week for the message to reach headquarters and another week for their response to arrive back. Sometimes it seemed silly to even send the daily report since nothing ever changed, but it made for a nice routine, and her regular communications let HQ know that she was still out here on the job. All over the galaxy, individuals like her sat guard on Sentinel stations to monitor borders, and it was a very quiet job.

She opened up an incoming message. Heidi was her controller back at headquarters, and the message contained her recorded voice and video, responding to a daily update sent a couple of weeks earlier. "Cateye 423, this is Zeta HQ," the mature blonde said. "We've received your message 71555 and acknowledge that all is well. I hope life is good at the Blue Lagoon and that you're meeting lots of men."

Valerie smiled at the joke as Heidi's image offered a sly wink. She closed the message.

Her work done for the day, she pondered her leisure time. The recon station was relatively roomy, a good gig for an astronaut who could withstand the solitude. The living area was 300 square feet, and it featured an enormous window with some of the best views in the galaxy. Sadly, she paid little attention these days to the beautiful blue giant that she orbited. After a certain amount of time, even the stupendous became routine.

Ah, chess. She checked her communications portal, and she had received three chess moves. She was playing multiple games against other far-flung Sentinels, with moves relayed back and forth over a period of months. She studied the boards, made her moves, and shipped the communications back out into the void.

What else did she have in her communications portal? Her pupils widened with delight as a smile crossed her lips. A new media packet had arrived! She got monthly movies, music, and other news and entertainment, and it was always welcome. She clicked open the packet and checked out the contents. Several new songs from her favorite groups, numerous new movies and television shows, and an assortment of games and puzzles to keep her sharp.

She clicked through the movies by type -- comedy, adventure, drama, adult...hmm, adult. Her eyebrows rose. It was embarrassing at first to request that genre from her controller, but Heidi was a veteran Sentinel herself, and she knew what it was like out by yourself on a two-year stint. As Valerie's controller, she assembled the package each month without judgment.

Valerie scrolled through the videos until one caught her eye. It showed a woman a lot like her -- tall, busty, and toned -- on her hands and knees with a man behind her. Valerie hit the play button and watched five minutes of the woman getting noisily railed by her well-hung partner. She then replayed it, zooming in to watch the reactions on the woman's face as she was penetrated and fucked. Valerie licked her lips at the prospect; she was halfway through her tour, and the first thing she was going to do when she got back to base was find a man and pounce on him.

As she clicked to the next video, her hand crept down, sliding through her trimmed mane of pubic hair on a path to pleasure.

And then she noticed it.

She turned and cocked her head. Something had happened. Something was almost imperceptibly different.

Curious and alert, she rose and walked toward the enormous viewing window. For all its majesty, the giant blue sun was sedate, and other than the flecks of a couple of distant planets nothing else ever moved. She knew the starscape like the back of her hand.

So what had caught her eye?

Her head suddenly jolted a few degrees to the right. Something blinked. It definitely blinked.

Okay, this was news. The viewing window had a zoom device and she activated it. It took a few minutes to find the blinking light again, and she trained her scope on it. She made a mental note of its general location, roughly halfway between the Diomedes Galaxy and the Harmeister Cluster.

"Something's moving out there," she muttered after a moment of study. Stepping over to the comm panel, she flipped the switch. "Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569, Message 2. I'm observing movement that appears to be organic. I will investigate."

Her pulse quickened a bit. It was likely nothing ominous, probably just a freighter moving through, but it was still exciting to see something. She'd been on the job for a year now and had not once seen evidence of life, never once reported anything to HQ but 'no new development'.

She looked again through the zoom, but the anomaly remained nothing but a blinking light. Moving to the recon panel, she pointed a detector at it, but it was emitting no communications signal. This was disappointing since human ships typically pinged out an ID beacon, but she held out hope anyway. A human ship wouldn't stop and visit -- velocity was too precious in deep space -- but given the proximity she could at least have a real-time video conversation with them, which would be a gift from the heavens.

She glanced down at her naked body. Maybe she should put some clothes on, just in case there was contact. But no, it wasn't necessary. A nonhuman wouldn't care, and if it was human it was almost certainly a female crew. Deep space favored the lower oxygen and caloric needs of women, so men were rare out here.

And if it was a man...well, a little teasing could be fun.

She got back on the comm set. "Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569. Message 3. I detect no identifying signals from the craft. Visually, it has a high albedo, with what may be an alternating light. It's on a course to pass by at a distance of 520,000 miles. I'll send a query ping towards it."

A query ping was a leap of faith, but also a duty of her position. If it was a hostile ship, her recon station was a sitting duck. Her ship was there to observe, not to fight, and it was defenseless by treaty. But this thing shouldn't be a hostile ship. The various empires in the area were all under treaty, and piracy was virtually nonexistent. There was simply no freight to pirate in this zone. It might be a patrolling warship, but most likely it was some sort of tramp ship or itinerant passthrough.

She sent the ping, then waited. She sent another ping.

"Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569. Message 4. Two identifying pings sent, neither has been answered." She suddenly wished that she was at a less remote station, one where communications could be instant. "Hold on," she said, peering through the zoom. "The albedo has changed."

She checked the detectors. "I'm seeing a course change. The closest approach is now 480,000 miles." She studied the readout. "Now 460,000 miles."

She watched and waited, her brow furrowing with each passing second. "Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569. Message 5. I believe that the visiting ship has changed to an intercept course with my station. Not sure what that means."

She wasn't sure, but it didn't make her comfortable. Ships tended to mind their own business out in undeveloped areas, and they tended to announce their presence if they crossed paths. Human or not, captains knew where the recon stations were and respected them.

It took another two hours for the ship to close within visual distance. Valerie peered through the scope at intervals, attempting to make out details. First she noticed the reddish tinge, then a slightly irregular shape. The ship was now certainly on an intercept course, but who was it? She sent another communications ping, but got no response.

No further details emerged until the ship had closed within 20,000 miles. Valerie peered through the scope; she could now see a roughly conical spacecraft with a long probe up front and a flared flange in the back. Oddly, the blinking wasn't a light or reflection, but something else, some kind of interference with the system. Maybe the ship was in trouble? That might explain why it sought her out, why it couldn't communicate.

It got closer with each passing minute. She still couldn't see details with her bare eyes, but the zoom was starting to pick up detail. The ship wasn't in trouble, but rather it was moving almost in stop-motion, which defied physics. Valerie puzzled over it for a moment until she dug a fact out of her memory. A probable explanation could be that it was a ship from a civilization that was slightly phased out of time.

Some civilizations were like that, in a fact that was mind-bending to Valerie. They existed in a slightly different universe that overlapped hers, and as such they manifested themselves differently in the fourth dimension. They moved quickly or they moved slowly, and they would sometimes phase in and out as their own universe regularly jolted into sync with the one in which she existed.

So who had a ship like that and existed out of time phase?

The ship was at 8,000 miles now. There was a symbol on it, some kind of a sworl with a vertical line coming out of it. Who had that -?

Valerie's blood froze.

Oh god.

Oh god oh god oh god. Her fingers tingling with adrenaline, she sprinted to the computer and did a quick search.

Oh god.

She flicked on the comm switch and spoke far too quickly. "Heidi, this is Valerie. Uh, Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569. Message ... Message 4. Or 5. Whatever. Hey, I think I've got a drinker approaching." Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice wavered. "Send help. I need help fast."

Terrified, she returned to the viewing window. She could now begin to see the outline of the alien ship even without the zoom. It was on an intercept.

It was coming for her.

Oh god.

She ran back to the computer, and flipped the comm switch again, sending another message just to be sure. "Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 423, reporting on date 71569. Message 5 or 6. I'm confirming -- confirming! - that a drinker is on an intercept. I need you to launch a rescue mission as fast as possible. I'm going to try to hold it off."

How do you hold off a drinker? She was terrified that she already knew, but nonetheless called up the reference library. Outside the viewing window, there was now a large, irregularly pulsing flash from the ship.

Her virtual assistant came up on the screen, an innocuous computer-generated woman with caramel skin and bright eyes. "Welcome. How may I assist you today?"

"I need to understand defense against a drinker." Valerie's eyes were glued to the growing light in the window.

"Let me find that file."

Valerie allowed herself a whimper of anxiety. The alien ship was minutes away.

"Defense against drinkers," an automated male voice announced. "Is this the file you would like?"

"Yes!"

"We will present a multi-step plan to protect yourself against drinkers," the voice said. "Step 1. Destroy the drinker ship at a distance. Drinkers are very aggressive toward humans and communications are currently impossible due to sensory differences. Any encounter should be assumed to be hostile."

Valerie waved her hand in anxiety. The light outside was starting to transform into an object. "Not possible! Forward to Step 2!"

"Step 2." The automated voice was far too cheery. "If Step 1 is not possible, outrun the drinker ship. Drinkers travel solo in small ships with a maximum speed of 0.4c," the voice said. "If you have a faster ship, accelerate to greater than 0.4c. directly away from the drinker. Under no circumstances should you allow a drinker to board a human ship."

"Not possible! Forward to Step 3!" Valerie's recon station had no propulsion system other than minor orbital adjustors. Outside the viewing window, the alien ship was now clearly visible. It was a dusty red hue, with the signature marking of a drinker. It was a small ship, only about a quarter of the size of Valerie's recon station.

"Step 3." The voice was silent for a moment. "There is no Step 3."

Valerie looked out the viewing window, fighting back tears. As if on cue, two large grappling hooks shot out from the body of the attacking ship. She moaned in dismay.

"Do you have additional questions regarding defense against drinkers?" The original female automated voice was back. It was calm and slightly chipper, which only amplified Valerie's growing panic.

"Yes! How do you kill a drinker in hand to hand combat?" she asked the assistant.

"Killing a drinker in hand to hand combat," the automated woman said. "Searching files."

A different automated female appeared on the screen, small and blonde. "Hand to hand combat against a drinker is not recommended. Drinkers are notably larger than humans and possess extreme strength. Their skin is impossible for spaceship-approved weapons to penetrate. They feel no pain and have no vulnerable areas as their brain is buried deep within the torso. Avoidance is strongly recommended over combat."

Suddenly the ship lurched, knocking Valerie off her feet. A terrible screech of metal scraping on metal assaulted her ears as the recon station's structure groaned under impact.

"More information!" she called to the computer as she rose. "How do you kill a drinker?"

A different automated male voice spoke. "Drinkers are extremely difficult to kill. If not engaged with a human, it generally takes the equivalent of approximately fifty pounds of high explosive ammunition with an armor piercing projectile to achieve a quick kill. This is not possible in a spaceship environment since the concussion will catastrophically breach the hull. If engaged with a human, the only method known to kill a drinker without harm to the human is to inject 40 pounds or more of cobalt in between the armor joints and into the brain."

Even in her situation, Valerie had to laugh incredulously. "Cobalt? Forty pounds of cobalt?"

There was a bang on the other side of the wall on the aft port side. Then another.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck." Valerie's eyes darted around the room as if perhaps there was some doorway that she had never seen before.

A hiss began sounding on the other side of the wall. Valerie looked around the room. It was roughly 20 feet by 15 feet, with no place to hide and no weaponry. She pondered exiting the ship, but that wasn't a solution. She needed weeks, not hours. She shook her head in dismay.

The hiss grew louder, and suddenly a spark popped out of the wall. "Dammit!" A tiny hole appeared in the wall, and the noise of a cutting torch suddenly grew louder. Lines began appearing in earnest, and the smell of burning metal singed Valerie's nostrils. A small section of wall fell out, perhaps six inches in diameter. With horror, Valerie saw a finger poke through it, incredibly long and reddish-purple. As she desperately searched the room for a weapon, she watched the monster slowly, very slowly, destroy the wall. Small pieces fell out, then large, and finally a bang on the wall sent a large section crashing to the floor.

Valerie pressed the comm button one last time. "Zeta HQ, this is Cateye 453. The drinker has breached the hull and is about to enter." She choked back a scream, then set her jaw. "I'm going to survive this. Please send help as fast as possible. I'm begging you."

The last remains of the wall broke away and she watched in horror as the drinker stepped into her station.

It was terrifyingly huge, built like a human but much, much larger. It was seven feet tall at the shoulder, and as wide as two human men. It's legs were stocky and powerful, ending in toes that were every bit as long as its fingers. On its chest, two additional pairs of arms, short and powerful, also flexed their long and powerful fingers as it prepared for the hunt.

But it's head -- or lack thereof -- was the most terrifying aspect. Drinkers had no senses of sight, hearing, touch, or smell, and functioned only from their sense of taste. As such, the creature's head consisted only of a foot-tall tasting rod, two inches thick with a small spherical bulge at the top. At the neck, it had what looked almost like an Elizabethan collar, but it was pink and wet and undulating, and Valerie realized that it was its tongue. The creature was tasting the air, sensing the air currents, and as if by magic it turned to face her.

"What do you want?" she whispered desperately, though she knew there would be no answer.

It lumbered toward her, tanklike, slow and powerful. It was so slow, in fact, that she thought she might actually be able to avoid it. But then suddenly it blinked out of existence, then back, and the distance between them was closed instantly. Screaming, Valerie ducked under an outstretched arm and ran to the other side of the room. "Time phase," she breathed to herself.

The creature ponderously turned again, it's giant tongue waggling and the large tasting rod atop its neck flexing and seeking. It homed in on her and approached again. She knew what to expect this time, waited for it to blink out of existence, and rolled away. It reappeared more closely this time, as if drawing a bead on her. Finding herself next to the food pantry, she began throwing food and beverage canisters at it.

It moved toward her again, and she timed the blip in its time displacement, dropping and rolling again. This time she brushed its powerful leg on her escape. "Go away!" she screamed, as if it was some sort of aggressive dog. It turned to face her again as she scrambled to the opposite side of the station.

Reaching behind her, she found one of the gripping devices that was used in maintenance. Six feet long, with a mechanical claw on one end and a trigger on the other, it was used by astronauts to extend their reach and grip on spacewalks. It was a strong but lightweight material, not a suitable weapon by any means, but the only thing she had. She whacked the drinker in the chest as it drew closer, then ducked and ran. It displaced towards her, apparently knowing that its time jump was a hunting advantage. A massive arm scraped by her shoulder as she scrambled away.

"Get out!" she yelled, knowing it was to no avail.

Back to the food pantry, she grabbed more of the canisters of food and beverage. She threw some at the creature, then had an epiphany. She looked into the pantry, then at the monster as it lumbered toward her again.

Instead of throwing them at the creature, she began throwing containers haphazardly as fast as possible. Maybe, just maybe...

The creature closed in again. She whimpered in fear, sprinting to her right and whacking its heavily armored body with her mechanical gripper as she ran. It turned slowly to follow her vector, then time-shifted again as she ducked and desperately dodged.