I had been following the hunter for nearly an hour when I circled around a tree. The hunter was in a small clearing, bent down, examining the ground. I waited for the stealthy creature to move on. The sun would be up in a couple of hours, and I was hopeful that we were close to the Vena’s home. When the creature moved on, I followed. My plan was to stay as close to the hunter’s path as possible in hopes of avoiding traps. I was wrong.
I was straining through the gloom trying to keep the hunter in sight, when I stepped into a pit that was covered with a tarp of some kind. I fell hard, completely surprised. Fortunately the bottom of the pit wasn’t lined with spikes or some deadly creature that would leap on me and rip my throat out. The breath was knocked out of my lungs, and I laid on my side, struggling to catch my breath. The pit was wide. The tarp seemed to cling to me. Fortunately, I turned as I fell, landing on my back and avoiding injury. I also saved my weapons from damage. I got to my knees, struggling with the temptation to pull off my helmet as I struggled to inflate my lungs.
“Barnes,” I wheezed, my chest aching terribly.
Instead of the Staff Sergeant’s steady, reassuring voice, I heard movement above me. I turned, looking up into the green gloom and saw a head, roughly human shaped, with small ears on top and a long, oval face which was lost in shadow. I raised my rifle and fired a short burst. The hole was four meters deep. The sides were crumbling soil and small, hairy roots. The top of the pit was too tall to reach even if I could stand up, and from what I could see, climbing out would be extremely difficult.
The Vena hunter above me made an odd barking sound, then a heavy net was dropped over me. I struggled to cast it off, but the net snagged on my armor, and my rifle tangled up. I was still wrestling with the net when the hunter dropped down on top of me. I hit the ground hard, and a blinding pain shot through my left shoulder. I shifted my weight, ignoring the hunter, just trying to ease the pain in my shoulder. There was a pop and the pain ended. A low growl from the hunter made me cease my struggle. The alien had me pinned beneath the net. There was no way to bring my weapons to bare quickly enough, and the hunter was pointing his forearm mounted weapon at my face.
The hunter growled, but there was a chattering rhythm to it. I supposed it was a language of sorts, but there was no way I could decipher it. I opened my hands, showing the hunter my palms. The hunter kept his weapon pointed at me, but raised it’s long face and barked. Several thick, hairy ropes were dropped into the pit. I heard movement and more rhythmic chattering.
“Private Porter,” Barnes’ voice crackled over my com-link. “Are you there?”
“I’ve fallen into a trap, Staff Sergeant,” I said quickly, not knowing how much time I would have to communicate with Barnes before the aliens stripped me of my gear. “There are several Vena hunters here.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not really,” I said, still wheezing. “But I’m pinned down and can’t fight back.”
“Don’t be a hero, Porter. Bide your time. If they don’t kill you right away, then you’ll have a chance to escape. They may even take you to where they’re holding Money.”
“Roger that, Staff Sergeant. I’ll keep broadcasting as long as possible.”
“Orry, hang in there.”
“Don’t worry, Staff Sergeant. I’m not finished yet.”
Chapter 8
I didn’t resist when the net tightened, and I was lifted from the pit. The hunters — there were four of them, surrounded me. In the gloom, I couldn’t see their weapons, but they pointed their arms at me menacingly. I remembered how a single shot from a hunter had nearly taken Sergeant Freggetti’s head off, and while it didn’t penetrate Sergeant Gretchen Polaski’s armor, it had fractured several of her ribs on impact. I determined not to do anything that might antagonize my captors.
The same hunter who had lured me into the trap and jumped in to subdue me knelt beside me. I could see from his silhouette that he was wearing Marine armor. He took my rifle, holding it carefully and lifting the strap up over my head. They took my sidearm and knife, but left the spare magazines.
“Staff Sergeant, they’re taking my weapons,” I said over the private channel to the only member of the platoon who hadn’t been captured.
“Don’t resist, Porter. Good behavior will encourage them to lower their guard.”
Another of the hunters, this one with pointed ears like a doberman pincer, tied my hands with rope. I didn’t resist, letting them do what they wanted with me, while focusing on regaining my strength. I could breathe normally without pain, but if I breathed too deeply, it hurt.
“I may have fractured a rib, Staff Sergeant,” I said, thankful the aliens couldn’t hear me.
“Can you breathe alright?” Barnes asked.
“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”
“Without angering your captors, try to move your upper body. If the rib is broken you’ll know it.”
I hunched forward, then twisted from side to side. There was pain, but it wasn’t sharp. The hunters took me by my arms and hoisted me to my feet. The one in armor chattered and waved for me to follow, then it turned and started walking. Two of the hunters stayed right beside me. One even took my arm and tugged me forward. I didn’t resist. I followed the lead alien, which wasn’t difficult, despite the gloom. I was much closer than I had been, and the hunter no longer moved in a stealthy fashion. It seemed almost as if the alien was swaggering, the way a prize fighter would strut out of the ring after knocking his opponent out.
“They’re taking me somewhere,” I said into the com-link.
“You’re tracking beacon is clear,” Barnes said. “How about your ribs?”
“Sore, but probably not broken.”
“Thank God for small favors. The sun should be up soon. Keep me updated as long as you can. I can’t come get you, but I’ll help anyway I can.”
“Thank you, Staff Sergeant.”
It didn’t take long to reach what looked like a village. There were twelve small structures that looked like yurts. It was difficult to make out details in the dark, but the small huts were round and had leafy branches assembled into cones for the rooftops. The aliens took me to a wooden cage made of interwoven vines. It took the alien in Marine armor several minutes to untie the hatch. It was too gloomy to see inside. I was tempted to call out Money’s name, but I didn’t want the aliens to know I could speak.
Once the door was unlatched, the aliens shoved me inside. They were rough, despite the fact that I didn’t resist. I fell into the small cage, which was just about two meters cubed. To my disappointment, there was no one else in the cage. The aliens worked quickly to retie the lashings.
“They’re putting me in a cage,” Staff Sergeant.
“Any sign of the Master Sergeant?”
“Not yet.”
“Tell me everything you can see.”
I spent several minutes counting the buildings and describing them. Once the aliens finished tying the door in place, they left me alone. It was too difficult to see the bindings clearly, so I didn’t try. Instead I leaned against the side of the cage and closed my eyes.
“Sleep while you can, Private,” Barnes said. “I’ll wake you once the sun is up. We’re lucky they left your Command Helmet on.”
“Thank you, Staff Sergeant.”
“Keep your wits and you’ll find a way out. I have no doubt about that.”
“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. It seemed as if I’d been asleep for less than a few seconds when Barnes’ voice crackled over my com-link.
“Sun’s up, Private. You read me?”
“Affirmative,” I said, trying not to groan as I moved my stiff body.
There was definite bruising on my torso. My neck hurt and I felt as if there were sand in my joints, but I could breathe and see clearly. There were aliens milling around the village. The hunter in Marine armor was in the middle of a group of villagers, telling a story with chattering barks and yi
ps. The Vena were humanoid in shape. They walked on two legs and had a similar body structure, although they were much thinner than the average human, almost frail looking. They had long fingers and necks. Their faces were long too, almost equine in shape, with ears on the tops of their heads, and large round nostrils on the sides.
I couldn’t see any more cages. There were huts in a circular area interspersed with trees. I saw what looked like fire pits that had been dug into the ground, their sides blackened with soot. There were large stakes driven into the ground with ropes coiled around them. I described it all to Barnes. Many of the aliens wore shaggy robes made of animal hide and carried long staffs decorated with bones, feathers, and what looked like beads. In the center of the village was a tree with ornate carvings in the wide trunk. I saw several nooks, each decorated in a special fashion with alien symbols around the edges. Inside were dark, egg-shaped crystals of IX gas.
The day wore on. Most of the aliens disappeared into their huts and weren’t seen again. I presumed they were sleeping, but a few loitered in the village. They stayed busy with small tasks, but I could tell they were watching me. They had narrow, angular eyes. I wasn’t close enough to see their irises, but I knew they were keeping eyes on their prisoner. As casually as I could, I studied the bindings that were used to secure my cage. The entire thing was made of thick, dense vines woven together. The bindings were fibrous strands braided together to form twine. I had no doubt that I could untie them, given enough time. But escaping the cage would take time, and there was zero chance the aliens would just stand by and watch.
I kept a steady conversation with Staff Sergeant Barnes throughout the day, but in the afternoon I napped. I was hungry, but the aliens didn’t feed me. They had taken my pack with all my rations. The only thing to do was wait and see what they intended to do with me. As the sun went down, fires were lit in the pits around the central tree. I could smell food cooking and hear what sounded like laughter. When the sun set, I left my helmet on regular vision. The gloom and shadows were still present, but different in many ways. The light from the fires, gave the alien village a frightening cast. There were a large number of the Vena, and it seemed as if they were celebrating something. Eventually a group approached my cage.
“They’re coming for me,” I told Barnes.
“Stay loose kid. Just remember, these bastards haven’t met a Marine yet. They have no idea what you’re capable of.”
The aliens began unlashing the door to my cage. I stood up, facing them, trying to hide my fear. I could feel my body trembling. My knees felt weak and my mind was screaming at me to claw and fight. I wanted to back into the corner, wedge my arms through the cage walls and force them to drag me out. It would be a fruitless gesture, but my will to live was begging me to do something. My military discipline held me fast, and I waited patiently while the aliens unlocked the cage. They gestured for me to come out.
“They’re taking me out,” I told Barnes.
“You got this kid. No sweat.”
An alien took hold of my right arm, another held my left. They pulled my cammie jacket off and threw it into the cage. It was the only gesture that gave any indication of their intentions. I didn’t know it for certain, but I hoped and silently prayed that the aliens throwing my jacket into the cage meant that they would return me to the small prison alive.
It was dark far away from the fire pits, but the aliens had no problems seeing the latches on my armor. They pulled it off and left me in the thin, compression shirt and pants. When one reached for my helmet, I pulled back. It was the first time I had resisted, and the creatures holding my arms pulled me back roughly.
“They’re taking my helmet, Staff Sergeant.”
“I’m still with you, Orry. Keep your eyes open and look for a chance to-“
I shut the Command Helmet down. It wouldn’t fit on the Venas long oval heads, but I didn’t want them to know it had a radio connection to Staff Sergeant Barnes. Their long-fingered hands brushed over my body, ensuring that I had no hidden weapons. The one in Marine armor studied my face. The alien was in shadow, just a silhouette back-lit with the fire from the pits, but I could tell it was examining my face. It chittered, although I couldn’t tell if it was speaking to me or to the other aliens. Then it waved me forward. I walked on my own. The two aliens holding my arms didn’t have to drag or coerce me.
I wanted to fight. A well-placed kick to one of the alien’s knees would have probably broken it. They were long-limbed, but I outweighed them by a significant factor. I felt confident I could break free and escape, but without my armor and weapons, I would be helpless. I didn’t even think I could find my way back to the Base Camp, not to mention the fact that the Vena were nocturnal hunters. I would be blind, and they would track me down easily. Worse yet, I might fall into another trap and get injured. Then, even if I could escape, I wouldn’t be much use to anyone.
I was taken to a short stake that had been driven deep into the ground. A leather, braided rope was attached to the stake, and one of the aliens wrapped a collar around my neck. I was tied to the stake by the rope, which was at least six meters long. The rest of the village came to where I was bound and formed a circle. There was chanting and yelping. I could see, but not well. The alien in armor waved the others off, and I was left alone, bound to the stake — but free to move. The hunter approached me. I stood my ground. It barked into my face, but I didn’t move. Then it struck me. The blow came fast, an open palm strike to the side of my head that sent me reeling. The blow hurt, but didn’t do any real damage, other than to make me angry.
When I looked back to the armored alien, another darted in from the darkness and shoved me. I stumbled, almost falling, only to be hit in the back by another alien. They were all barking and laughing. The village sounded like a pack of hyenas. I staggered forward and saw an alien dart toward me. It threw a punch, but I was ready for it. I ducked under the blow and shoved the creature backward, toward it’s companions. It sprawled on the ground. A few others rushed forward, grabbing the fallen alien, and pulling it back to safety.
I didn’t have to test the length of my leash. I knew the villagers had lined up just out of reach. Instead, I stayed near the stake, which was the only cover I had. The aliens were soon in a fever pitch, working up the courage to rush in and strike at me. Sometimes I got hit, other times I delivered a blow of my own. At first I avoided hurting the aliens, then one speedy creature rushed in and hit me with it’s elbow, opening a cut on my cheek. I was hit several times after that until I regained my composure. I knew if was wasn’t careful, the aliens would beat me to death.
“Come on, you savages!” I shouted.
It was the first words the aliens had heard me speak, and I saw them react with fear. I could only imagine how barbaric my language was to them. The next alien to run at me was flattened by my side kick. I would have pounced on the creature if another hadn’t rushed at me from behind. I saw the movement and dodged out of the way, using my leash to clothesline my attacker. More of the creatures hurried in, trying to pull the fallen out of harm’s way. I smashed my boot down on one’s knee, and it yelped in agony as it fell. Another threw a punch, which I caught before it connected. I twisted the long arm, causing the alien to double over. I smashed the creature’s elbow with my forearm, hyper-extending the limb before shoving the alien into an onrushing attacker.
The fight only went on a few more minutes. The injured were removed from the ring, and the attacks stopped coming. The villagers moved away from the ring until only a few remained. They came at me, all at the same time. I launched myself at the creature in Marine armor. I didn’t know what had happened to Master Sergeant Eubanks, but seeing the alien in our gear made me furious. I hit the alien hard in its thin midsection and delivered a hard knee to the side of it’s head before I was flung to the ground by the others. Several dropped on top of me. I punched and kicked, screamed and clawed, but soon they had me pinned to the ground.
I was hoisted back
to my feet, and the collar was unfastened from my throat. I was taken to another part of the village where two tall poles stood. The villagers were seated on the ground. Light from the nearby fire pits showed a few of the Vena sported bruises, and a couple were seriously injured. I was exhausted and didn’t struggle as they tied leather ropes to my ankles and wrists. Fear was like a keening siren in my mind, but I didn’t resist. If I was going to escape, it wouldn’t be at night when the Vena had the advantage over me. They pulled their ropes tight and tied them to the poles so that I was spread-eagled between them. As soon as I was secured, the tribe began another ceremony, this one more somber than the first.
Instead of barking and howling, the aliens began to chant. One came toward me dressed in a long robe covered with feathers. The alien held a long, thin knife. I wanted to break free but I wasn’t strong enough. The feathered alien took a leafy branch and dipped it in water, which it then shook over my head. A bowl full of some sort of smoking substance was carried to the feathered alien, who danced around me, waving the smoking bowl in my face until I was forced to breath in the pungent smoke. Almost instantly I felt lighter. My wounds, mostly bruises, a black, swollen eye, and the cut on my cheek, ceased to hurt. I felt my body sag a little, and I was filled with a pleasant buzzing sensation.
The feathered alien then took his knife and drew it across my chest, from my left collar bone down to my right side. I knew it should have hurt. The knife was razor-sharp. I saw the cut open up, and blood flowed down my chest. The aliens oohed and aahed, as the feathered creature continued to dance and chant. They seemed excited by the blood, yet the smoke had dulled my senses. I felt no pain, and could scarcely connect two thoughts together. The feathered alien danced back and cut me again, this time from my right collar bone to my left side, making a bloody X on my chest.
One by one, the aliens approached me, swiped their fingers across my bloody chest, then marked themselves with dark red smudges. The most popular place to streak my blood on their bodies was down their long faces, but a few traced X’s across their own chest. I watched, but my vision blurred. I hung limp from the ropes, exhausted, barely conscious. Once everyone had a chance to mark themselves with my blood, I was untied. The wounds were beginning to ache, but I had no strength in my limbs. I was completely helpless.
Spartan Valor Page 4