Taming Sunrise

Dedication

To Ma, who taught me everything worth knowing – and the importance of being able to laugh at myself.

Black Sunrise

Imagine, if you will:

The Ruminarii Hammerhead was so named because of its peculiar hull shape. Being the main warship of the warlike Ruminarii, they were as much feared as hated. (The current advice in general circulation would be 'if you see one, look for a hole – crawl into it and then pull it in after you.') A hammerhead is about a kilometer long and is a dark shiny black, as black as space and – as some whisper, as dark as the souls of the Ruminarii themselves.

As you may follow, they are an extremely hostile species (i.e. there is no word for 'welcome' in the Ruminarii language.) In four short centuries they had managed to lay waste to almost a thousand star systems, enslaving their populations and stripping them of all they wanted.

It has been said that if the Harrt'shisk Hab'arr'oun (Empire of the Golden Sun) ever had any allies it would've been a short-lived alliance indeed. The Ruminarii displayed only the negative emotions, and their ferocity was matched only by their boldness. How a race founded purely on hate, spite and evil managed to flourish as they did is a question on which very, very few civilizations have survived to speculate.

Half-Lieutenant Marsh'k Kluss'ta was not a happy man. Naturally, that didn't bother him as things were rarely otherwise. As the commanding sub-officer of the Black Sunrise, happiness was not a state of mind expected of him, though in reality – our- reality – he was probably not such a bad person. The crew, though terrified of him even under normal circumstances, believed that he had the heart of a little child. (Let's leave it at that, shall we?)

Being the commander of a Ruminarii war vessel meant that he had risen to the rank by means of assassination and ruthlessness and was therefore implicitly distrusted by the Tidhii Mah'k'hai (Naval Command, that is The Queen Of Suth Herself.) He was expected to mete out, in generous portions, brutality to conquered subjects and to act swiftly and mercilessly in dealing with alien encounters. In short, he was expected to be a bad example.

The Ruminarii are bipeds. They are a reptilian species (which probably goes a long way to explain their cold-bloodedness.) Suitably shaped is the best non-offensive description I can find. Otherwise, they're just plain ugly – at least by Terran standards.

A device in the arm of his chair made an obscene noise. The murals on the chair suggested disturbing things being done to some briefly unlucky beings.

"Yes?" Said Marsh'k.

"We're about to enter the targeted system, Lord." Said a tinny reptilian voice in Ruminarii, which could only be described as "hissy".

"Ah. Bad. I'll be there in a moment." Marsh'k paused. "You forgot the salute."

"Lord?" Said the voice, suddenly overcome by panic. "Ses'ach L'ru!"

"Too late. You know what you have to do?"

"Y-yes, Lord." There followed a sound reminiscent of a head banging against a steel bulkhead, suitably muffled by the pick-up.

"Are you done?"

"Y-yes, Lord."

"Does it hurt?"

"Ouch. Yes. It hurts a lot, Lord."

"Bad. Don't forget again, or you can bring me your fingernails yourself."

"Yes, Lord! I won't forget, Lord –"

Marsh'k cut the circuit on the rest of the helmsman's whining and rose to his feet, stretching to his full height of just under six standard Terran feet.

Not many Ruminarii warships had ever been captured intact by any enemy, and so for those the Ruminarii "invited" aboard their vessels, this was usually a one-way sight-seeing trip. For those who really want to know, Ruminarii Hammerheads have an extensive corridor network, the interior walls are heavily decorated, savagely militaristic and inevitably, close together. He strode down one. Lesser ranks seeing him, fell to the deck and groveled like their fingernails depended on it. There was a chorus of shrieks and whimpers as he passed. When he arrived on the bridge, everyone was face down on the deck, each endeavoring to grovel lower than the next. Nothing like discipline to keep the crew in its place.

"Ses'ach L'ru!" Came the slightly muffled chorus. This was Ruminarii for 'Hail the Captain.' Marsh'k sat down on his seat of office. It made a muted and rather obscene noise as he sank into the seat and the device registered his presence.

"Mor'dek'hai de suul." He retorted dismissively. This has been translated to mean something like 'Oh Shut the **** Up.' The crew ceased their groveling routine and got back to their stations. There was a flurry of activity as they tried to look busy.