Offroad Gynegeans
Offroad Part 1


Written by Septia.


“Phaa…” Raeija Vun'aran sighed as she stepped out onto the bridge of the ship. Her flat nubbed antennae stiffened to flick off residual water clinging to it, into a faint mist over her flowing blonde locks. 
	“Have you perished any residue, darling?” Cion imbued Raeija's senses in the comforting embrace of motherhood, with just a hint of authority that always seemed to linger. “One would presume a weekend at a spa would take care of that for you, perhaps you are showing a side of royalty after all". 
	Raeija exhaled. “I don't vibe with how the Platilingu air feels on my skin,” she ensured the seam to her casual-wear had melded shut at her collar, dusting off the smooth-weave playtex fabric as she joined her mother by the co-pilot seat. “Yes, ma, I did. And I also threw on some drabs, like an adult.” 
	Hearing this brought a faint quiver to the feather-quill antenna of the Gynegean mother. A brief glance down. She had allowed her suit to extend only as far as her navel, their teal lime buttocks overflowing in the seat to smother it in luscious, maternal blubber. Cion's mouth drew into a sharp crescent… “I am on holiday,” she spoke with her tone as cordial as was appropriate for a Gynegean warlord, concealing venom brought on by insurmountable stress. 
	Rae avoided further prodding the topic of her mother's nudetude, as if it even mattered, and lounged back in the seat. “We sure are, what's next on our docket?” 
	Cion pursed her lips in thought, adjusting the instruments and drawing short-cut runes on the screen. 
	“Let us review; we've sightseen on Phoreos's cobalt plains, visited Obsolaggen' to catch up with friends, spent a rotation on Platilingu for a thorough massage and treatment at the Opulent Palace…” Cion smiled, “what say you, daring. We could head out for a proper adventure on some untamed world.” 
	Rae sunk back in and nodded, bunching her lips together in thought, “you kinda sound like her.” 
	The smile washed off of Cion's face. Countenance drained as she stared out ahead, gaze swallowed by a void of stardust. 
	Raeija sank back in her seat. An apt time to bring up Trix this was not. She folded her arms behind her head and cleared her throat. “As long as it has got some fair food, I'm game. Maybe something with its fur cleared off for you.” 
	Cion peeked peered over to her daughter, “Oh? What ever could you be implying?” 
	“Mom, we were in the same chamber, your discharge disturbed the atmosphere itself, there was, a cloud,” Raeija emphasized by drawing an outline of a bulbous fog with her arms, “of fur, flying out of your ass.” 
	A snicker tickled Cion's lips, quelled by sheer concentration, “So you say.” 
	“Don't know what was wrong with that Toggyearn to come out the other end that… vindictive.” 
	Cion gave Raeija a nod. “I will admit, I have rarely seen a fomorian's neck tendrils splay and rattle with quite such vigour in a long time,” Cion mused as she thought back to her masseuses, “commendable they upheld the treatment.” 
	“Yeah, that's a relief,” Raeija said. 
	-Bbrlglpgsh- A growl forged down as a ripple along Cion's abdomen, restrained by the suit, to then form a wave of jiggling skin down her exposed lower gut. 
	“You know what else is, relieving?” she said. The Gynegean lifted one green cheek… -Ppphfhhrrrbbwellrlrllpwwwsssfth- -Bbrrrlkrb- -Brrlrlbrrllrpsths- A salvo of stench projected out of Cion's hind. The stream of steam jostling her cheeks into a juggle on the roaring winds of contaminated flatulence. A divot formed in the leather seat and recoiled upward, outwards, blanketing the room in the veil of the broiling bubble in the fragrance of an oily, pickled vegetable platter. “Pharma…” Cion huffed in satisfaction, holding out to the very last puff of smog, before slotting her hind back, with grace. 
	Raeija's antennae stiffened at the scent, throbbed into stiff musical strings as her mother contaminated the bridge. She massaged her temples with her forefingers. Then lowered her arms together as if chopping through an unseen cucumber to punctuate her next words. 
	“Mother…” she held on this for a beat. “We are, couped up in the bridge,  the tin can of the tin can that is a spaceship. You think you can just…”  
	“Ho, Raeija, when have you ever had a princess's sensitivity. I am merely giving proper thanks to my meals,” Cion said, feathery antenna fluttering, and her cheeks mauve with fluster to contrast her chiselled countenance. 
	“Uruughs, stuck smelling your gas plant’s trash fire,” Raeija folded her arms and slumped back in the seat, sporting some fluster herself. It had been many cycles since they had done this so casually. Long enough to foster irritation. Was she feinting it? It had been too long. “How are you going to keep an eye on the instruments if they are all fogged up?” 
	“Darling, are you challenging me?” 
	“Heck right I am, why'd you think I got my own pilot tutor?” 
	They went back and forth on the subject, that certain flavour of family banter which however loving it is, remains sharp. Though, in doing so, certain glyphs and settings, were overlooked… 
	“Annd that's why-. Huh, we're here already?” 
	“Sweetie, I, oh.” Cion blinked, staring out the vizor at the blue planet dominating their vision. 
	“Where did you fly us?” 
	“Where indeed,” Cion pondered, brow folding, “bring it up on the stjärn-chart. 
	Raeija navigated the charts, scanning for matches. 
	“It, is not here…” 
	“It is not in the charts? Search the registry for-.” 
	“Already on it,” Rae responded muted. An orange outline flaring up around an entry. “It is not unlisted, but, it is quarantined.” 
	“How quarantined are we talking, dear?” 
	“Level four.” 
	Cion sucked air in through her teeth in a wince, “So it is serious.” 
	“Planet's registered as Sul4. Quarantined at the 4th degree, all sanctions apply. Which means no exploration, landing, satellites, orbiting or… approach?” 
	“I am aware what it means, darling,” Cion said, letting out a sigh. “I will pose, one more relevant query: how monitored is it?” 
	Raeija scrolled. “Low.” 
	A smirk curled up Cion's left cheek. 
	“Mom…” 
	“Just for a brief pit-stop. When are we ever going to end up here again? Mother and daughter, unsupervised on a restricted planetoid,” she said and adjusted her instruments, calculating course for orbital planet bounding, “our own adventure.” 


~ 1 ~


A light trailed across the sky, gone in the blink of an eye. A finger rose up high. 
	“Hey, I didn't know there was gonna be any meteor showers today.” 
	“There aren't, Ulla.” 
	“Then explain what I saw, Buck?” 
	Ever heard of a shooting star?” the buff twenty-something scoffed before heading back into the tent. 
	“Dude… do you even know what a star is?” Milo asked. 
	“Shut up,” Buck called from the tent, emerging with a thermos. 
	“If you drink coffee this late you won't be sleeping till dawn,” Milo pointed out with a huff as he punched away at his phone. 
	“Who said anything about sleeping?” Buck mused as he poured himself a cup and raised his eyebrows towards Ulla, who snickered in response. “You dog.” 
	“Hey, relax, we're just here to watch some stars and take in nature, it is not like forensics is gonna matter much in a case that's gone cold for fourty years.” 
	“Then, why are we here?” Milo asked, genuinely confused. 
	“Duh, to enjoy nature and… the sights,” Buck said with the same motion towards Ulla. 
	“Ok, now you're just begging like a puppy.” 
	“Anything wrong with tha-.” 
	-Dddmdmfffth- A tremor crept through the ground. Buck peered off into the forest, then out overhead, towards the cliff side leading down the valley. A flock of birds soared up from the tree crowns. So it wasn't a hallucination… 
	Ulla mumbled, “Guys. That kinda felt like-.” 
	“W-what are you thinking?” Milo mumbled. 
	“Was that an earthquake?” 
	“Too small for that,” Buck muttered, “too, localized.” He stood, tossing his backpack over his shoulder, clutching a spray can. 
	“Could be a bear or something. If you wanna stay here I-.” Though he already felt his two travel companions cowering at his back. “Right… then we're off.” 


~ 2 ~


The group wandered in the shade of grand flora and cover of twilight. Staying close together. Silence disturbed now and then. A branch snapping. Leaves folding under pressure. Melodic chirps… Until… Tall shadows, just ahead, a stone throw away… both groups, stepped into the light, freezing, as hey made visual contact… 
	“FnnJjj”{“Oh no.”} Raeija mouthed. 
	“Vnuuu’mM” {“Ooh…”} Cion huffed, air sapped from her chest at the sight of the three bipedal bibrachials, aiming some form of luminescence device their way. “Ma, the heck… The heck are those?” 
	“Sapient bibrachials,” Cion mumbled, “most assuredly the inhabitants of Sul4.” 
	“Mom I get that, that's obvious, but you never said this planet had a sapient population.” 
	“Dear, I wasn't aware that-.” 
	“This is so bad,” Raeija said holding a hand over her face, “we're already on a quarantined planet and now we're interacting with a protected sapient species? This junk's not gonna fly with some mother daughter excuse-.” 


“Fnnj’vjjnnff uuuvhh” Spoke the, relatively, shorter one — still towering over the group. It vocalizing a melodic tone that buzzed in the air. 
	“YyynnnvFj’offFnnfYynnVfj” The taller responded. Exchanging noises between themselves. 
	“Who…,” Ulla mumbled, “cosplayers?” 
	“Very, very tall cosplayers,” Milo mumbled back. 
	“You two, never s-seen green body paint?” Buck stammered. Aiming his flashlight down to the ground. “You can buy antennas, you know.” 
	“Uh-huh, what about removing noses, there any gag props for that?” Milo bit back. 
	“I h…uh…” 


“Qruk Vrektalp Irv. Vrek jorks, flisk.” 
	“Ivorke. Cjitve re vojj omn?” 
	“Qozekt. Criptav.” 
	The natives were… talking. Talking over one another. Zipping back and forth in rapid exchanges that left their vocal organs gasping for air. 
	“Ma, they are making noises at us. They have language, mom.” 
	“Far removed from any of our roots, translators do not even have it on record,” Cion hummed. 
	“Mother, you are being, waaay too calm when we are in so much trouble.” 
	“Then, darling mine, regale us with what panicking would accomplish to improve our situation. We have to go about this with tact.” 


“Vfrnnrw’fhntghVrnnnrw YvnnjJi” 
	“Cjjii’dnoOrjsSsrjss” 
	“Guys,” Milo mumbled, “I don't think I could make those noises if I tried.” 
	“It's like… if a barracuda swallowed a synthesizer… kinda rad,” Ulla admitted. She was still trying to make sense of the floating melody exchanged between the two towering green beings, clad in their vibrant orange and green playtex skin suits. 
	“Tvjjrn’fro’tvnnrn” 
	“Dniivj’llljf’vhhHnnnr.” The muttering between them grew louder, turned towards one another, gesticulating and shaking. Until the tall one clutched a hold of the shorter one. 


“If you are ever to show your merits as a Vun'Aran, you will do so now.” 
	Raeija gazed back at her. 
	Cion's expression faltered for a moment. She shelved that discussion for later. “Observe the pattern. We are on a quarantined planet. We have trampled galactical regulations, and interacted with a 4th degree protected sapient species.” 
	“Yeah…”
	“But, under low observation. We can depart within the day with minimal chances of detection.” 
	“Right, so, scuttle back to the ship. Forget all about this?” 
	“We've, still made a transgression. We would need to cover our tracks,” she gestured towards them. “And, if I am not mistaken, I see no fur on them.” 
	Raeija brushed away her mother's grasp, scoffing. “Some leader you are.” 


“Bjuunhvi’hwnnIn’bJuunhviUnjjsll” {“Just because of our name does not mean there is not a bit of rebel in us.”} 
	“IvhyyYn’vnn” {“There is about to be a lot more in us soon.”} The shorter alien spoke, turning to face them for a moment, eyes darting over their forms. 
	“I just don't get these sounds… there’s too much, rhythm, like a shell flail.
	“So guys, I think they really are aliens.”
	“You sound peculiarly okay with that…” Milo muttered. 
	“Hey, groundbreaking, if true. I'm about to make first contact, with real live aliens, and maybe even get to second base,” he elbowed Ulla with a teasing chuckle. 
	“Buck.” She grunted. 
	“What? They look female enough. This is a historic moment. You two can sit back, and watch me make history.” He said, striding forwards, flashlight holstered at his jeans. Spreading out his arms as he approached. Attempting to mimic the pattern he heard in their voices as he approaches. 
	'Okay, lets not screw this up,' He thought. 


“Krar tvyy. Kal fjunh gogorg, jisssis tvyrryy goooor tvya joooool.” {“Welcome, to our planet, our world greets you with peace, and an invitation to bone downnnnn.”} 
	Cion peered at Raeija. 
	“He sounds different.” 
	“Might be, some form of greeting.” 
	Ulla and Milo swallowed as they watched Buck approach. Past halfway, the taller of the two moved up to meet him. “LjjjuuUnnf’HjoOlBhool’unfooosShnn”{“So sorry to cut this short, it is for the best to be done with this quickly.”} 
	“Ytvaj bork, kro… Bork terk ivlon, wiktia tvoirk erta tivivu.” {“Yes, I-… We-… I bring you only comfort, and wish you will do the same.”} Buck concluded, hands remaining held high as he stared at the tall, lime alien ahead. Boy, she was even bigger up close. Her eyes trailed him. Her arm twitched. She raised both hands up, mimicking his gesture. 
	Buck smiled, “Svork,”{“See,”} he said turning back, {“Trvsok jovoltu trirak teafahhfaaaanghf-.”} “they are totally down to bgghhaaaanfng-.” 
	-Cththhcth- The alien caught a hold of his jacket with one hand, his head with the other, she tore the clothing off of him, and hoisted him up by the hair. 
	The two aliens turned to each other in their discussion. 
	“YynnvooOool” {“Ma, what was that about fur?”} 
	“Vhhyn’oOon’vooolnIviii”{“On mother’s honor, I was certain it was headwear.”} The tall one focused back on Buck. Eyes closing while her jaw unhinged. -Chhrrlsltah- The oval gape reaching down to her chest, anatomy warping over Buck's befuddled, distressed face.. Ulla and Milo watched in terror as the alien folded their friend's limbs up like a letter into her enveloping maw. A symphony of -Ghhrlglbh- -Bbrhhhs- -Pspghthsa- stretching slime and contorting alien biology skin as the human before them was reduced to a series of doming folds trailing, congesting and ballooning the alien's neck. 
	“Mmf gsmgpagha wmmapgu-mcmpgh-.” -Gmfmlgmpgh- the last of his struggles muted, and his body was deposited in the creature's gullet as her lips wrapped shut. There was no Buck now. There was just a pantomime of his crumpled up frame, -Glmbmgmhld- -Clslghhrhstsa- trailing down the invader, whose clothes moulded around every bump and thunderous struggle, as if constructed for the very purpose of housing live meals. 
	-Glbhhrghgsa- -Fbhfgrgstsa- Loud building churns rustled through the gut as Buck's outlines kicked and struggled. The flashlight falling from his pants and illuminating her lower frame,  highlighting the domed structure of his abdomen, as two hand prints, and a contorted cone sketched up under the cloak of the otherworldy fabric. 
	-Bhuhrgagaarhhiriruurlsp- A slick, dissonant, but recognizable belching motion came from the alien, -Dlslphghst- their gut constricting as the venting of guttural breath, tightening around their friends' form: Buck… was devoured. 
	Milo hyperventilated, fingers shuddering around his phone. 
	“Atelk” {“Run.”} Ulla spoke, grabbing Milo by the collar and dragging him after her. 
	Milo lost the grasp of his phone as they turn-tailed, Milo screaming out into the forest. “Ver tahke toghaaaaaaaa.”{“What the heeeeeellll.”} 
	“Woooffuf… sturdy one…” Cion said and patted the wildly contorting globe crowning her midsection. “I will admit, I missed the opportunity to properly sample you, certainly all kinds of illegal to make you a meal.” 
	Raeija huffed, knocking her elbow into her mother's gut -Slpghthsha- “Here we go again.” 
	“Darling, I must protest, how was I to know that it was fur on their heads as well? It appeared as not but a headdress. It seemed quite sensitive though, judging by his vocalizations. 
	“I'll keep that in mind,” Raeija said, cracking her knuckles, “guess it has been a while since I had to hunt for my meals.” A hint of mischief in her sadistic smirk.