Alliance

by S. H. Jucha

  “Your purpose isn’t to engage the citizens, although I don’t expect they would offer much resistance,” Daminich said. “Your tasks are to survey the land. Determine whether the surface water is potable, itemize the quantities of fresh food, and determine the extent of danger from nonsentient fauna. In essence, rate the quality of this planet for colonization.”

  The three shuttles touched down on a small island. They scorched the rock, charred the nearby grasses, and burnt a few tree limbs. So much of the island was wet enough that the damage was minimal.

  The crews broke out their instrumentation. The air was pronounced excellent, and the humidity, although high, was tolerable. The data allowed the crew to dispense with suits, and, accompanied by armed security, the techs descended on the inviting planet.

  Anxious crews first searched for food along the water’s edge. They found it in abundance. Device readings were forgotten, while the ravenous Packeoes snatched small fingerlings and crustaceans from the shallows and consumed them raw.

  When bellies were full, the work resumed. The techs and their minders wandered farther from the shuttles, gathering details about the fauna. Two techs and a security escort were the first to encounter one of the wetland’s dangerous denizens.

  A powerfully fanged creature haunted the trees. Its favored hunting tactic was to drop on quarry from above. It watched three bipeds beneath it. Two wandered off, leaving the third below.

  Creeping stealthily along a thick branch, the creature sought to maximize its angle of attack. When the biped crouched on the ground, exposing its neck, the predator dropped.

  Long saber-like canines driven by a heavily muscled jaw sank deep into the prey’s neck, cutting off its scream. A soft hiss was all that escaped the dying creature’s throat.

  Swiftly, the carnivore launched its body at the tree trunk. Its sharp talons sunk into the thick bark, and it hauled the prey up the tree, the body dangling from its jaws. It climbed steadily until it resumed the relative safety of the upper branches.

  The tech and security crew member returned to collect the second tech. He was nowhere to be found. However, his instrumentation was near the base of the tree where they’d left him. A few drops of blood splattered the tech’s shoulder, and he searched upward. His minder followed the direction of his glance. The tech screeched in anger at the sight of his dead companion draped over a limb like so much fodder.

  Before the armed crew member could sight his weapon on the carnivore, the creature snarled and raced along the branch before jumping to another tree. It leapt its way from branch to branch until it was out of sight.

  Other Packeoes encountered similar hunting carnivores. In most cases, the vicious predators were dispatched, but not before more than a few crew members lost their lives. Slowly, the crews retreated, forming a tight defense around the tails of their shuttles.

  When evening descended, they retired to sleep in the safety of their ships. The lead pilot reported their encounters and the day’s losses.

  “Understood, pilot,” Daminich said, “but you haven’t reported on the planet’s condition.”

  “Apologies, Commander,” the lead pilot replied. “The air is good. The water is sweet, and food is plentiful.”

  “Are there any negative data readings?” Stasnich, the expedition leader, asked.

  “None,” the pilot replied, “but I must stress that the carnivores are numerous, powerful, and cagey. They will be a challenge.”

  “Nothing that can’t be overcome in time with crew and weapons,” Stasnich replied, from the safety of his battleship high overhead.

  The next morning, the techs stayed aboard their shuttles, while the security teams hunted in teams of three. They shot and killed anything that moved regardless of whether it flew, ran, or sat staring at them or whether it was small or large. The intent was to create a safe space around the shuttles by eliminating the carnivores and the prey they might hunt.

  On the third morning after landing, the techs resumed their work after enjoying a morning meal with the security teams at the water’s edge.

  The day passed without the loss of a single crew member, and the Packeoes relaxed, confident in their superiority.

  The Dorgatha watched patiently from the shallows. Thick clusters of reeds concealed its body. It observed the prey come to the water soon after the brightening. When the warmth faded, the prey returned to feed again. Some entered the water. They splashed about with half their body length in the water.

  The Dorgatha was tempted to feed, but the approach wasn’t optimum. Where the prey fed and splashed, the water was clear and shallow. The Dorgatha was a skillful hunter. It didn’t rush at prey that was out of range or could see its approach. It continued to watch and wait for a better opportunity.

  The Packeoes, with their consuming desire for fresh food, soon exhausted the stretch of sandy soil and shallow water they’d first visited.

  In an area of dense reeds, a tech found an abundance of small crustaceans. They were newly hatched, and their shells were soft, unformed. In this state, they presented a delicacy to the shuttle crews, who scooped them up by the handfuls.

  Each evening, the lead pilot reported that the work was progressing slowly. He spoke of the abundance of predators necessitating the protection of a three-member security team.

  The truth was that the work had been completed by the fourth day. After nearly half an annual cooped aboard their battleships, these individuals were luxuriating in the warm moist fresh air of a new planet. They were dining on succulent food at every meal and lying around discussing the race’s good fortune on discovering the planet.

  The Dorgatha silently observed the prey shift their feeding grounds. The opportunity improved.

  When the warmth faded and it darkened, the Dorgatha moved stealthily to a new position. Blunt clawed feet were placed slowly on the bottom to prevent stirring it. The tail remained still, lest the surface water be rippled.

  The huge creature found placement near the water’s edge concealed by reeds and grasses. It let its weight settle to the shallow bottom. Only its nostrils extended above the water. Now, it would wait, and its great reptilian eyes closed.

  The warmth came again. The brightness caused the Dorgatha’s eyes to briefly open. It dozed, until the noise of the prey woke it. Then it fully submerged. Its thick horned hide was colored in grays, greens, dark sand, and browns. It blended the reptile’s body well against the grasses, reeds, and muddy bottom.

  The hungry Packeoes rushed to the water for their morning meal. Clothes were discarded and so were weapons. They cavorted in the water at waist height, snatching up small crustaceans and crunching on the soft shells with their sharp teeth. Their mood was lighthearted, even festive, and they chatted about whether they’d evict the sentient race or turn them into workers, which was code for kill them or make them slaves.

  The prey’s splashing came closer and closer to the Dorgatha. It eyed the size of its targets. One wouldn’t satisfy its hunger. It wanted more than one. The prey slowly bunched together. The opportunity improved.

  One prey strayed and nearly stepped on the Dorgatha’s snout, but the reptile didn’t lunge. Soon other prey followed the first. Three were close, when the Dorgatha shot from the shallows.

  The nearest prey was crushed beneath the reptile’s bulk. A second was broken, when the great snout swung at its middle, and the head of the third was cleanly removed and swallowed.

  The Dorgatha turned toward the remaining prey, but it felt stings along its length. Irritated by the incessant whine and smack of hard objects against its armored hide, instinct screamed for it to retreat. It snatched two of its kills in its massive jaw and fled into the safety of the water.

  The Packeoes stood shivering and shaking in fear and shock in the attack’s aftermath. They’d witnessed a monster kill three of their own in the blink of an eye. The creature’s size was unbelievable. Their home world had nothing to compare to what they’d seen. The once placid clearing of
reeds and still water had become a scene of trampled vegetation and swirling muddy brown water.

  The security guards who had the wits to grab weapons had fired more than forty rounds at the creature. None of them could say that they’d drawn blood by their strikes.

  A pilot found himself the center of attention. Belatedly, he realized it was the senior pilot who’d been crushed, when the reptile attacked. He was asked repeatedly if the remaining body should be recovered, but he couldn’t bring himself to order anyone into the water. It was just as well. No one was anxious to do the job.

  The Packeoes retreated to their shuttles, and the new lead pilot didn’t wait for the evening to report.

  “Is the creature dead?” Daminich asked.

  “Negative,” the pilot replied, “I don’t think our weapons hurt it.”

  Daminich understood the problem. The weapons that security carried were designed to hunt small- to moderate-sized game, the kinds found on the home world.

  When the call ended, Daminich met with Stasnich.

  “Just the one creature?” Stasnich inquired.

  “That’s all they saw,” Daminich replied. “The pilot reports they’re terrified of the reptile. It’s said to be at least ten meters in length. A ‘fearsome monster’ were the words the pilot used.”

  “It’s probably half that size,” Stasnich scoffed. “Still that would be larger than any predator on Packeo. What do you advise?”

  “I’m concerned that this creature isn’t an anomaly. What if this planet is infested with these great predators?” Daminich replied.

  “You might have something there,” Stasnich said. “I reviewed the planet’s telemetry with Captain Gregich. The local race lives in dense communities surrounded by substantial enclosures. At the time, I took that for timidity, but this new information puts a different slant on what I observed.”

  “We’ve lost nine crew members to predators,” Daminich said. “That’s an entire shuttle team worth of techs and security, including the senior pilot. While the smaller predators have been eliminated, the reptile still lives. We would need more powerful weaponry to kill it. The irony is that our ships carry enough armament to destroy any and all monsters on the planet many times over.”

  “Well, if we have no immediate military response, I want some hard evidence of this creature. We need to know what we’re facing,” Stasnich said. When Daminich hesitated, Stasnich growled, “Get me some images.”

  The Dorgatha waited patiently in the shallows for the prey to return. It had consumed the two carcasses it had hauled away. Afterwards, it had snatched the floating body that was left behind. While they’d quieted its immediate hunger, it was drawn to the opportunity to feed some more.

  The warmth came and the cool followed. Still the prey did not return.

  “Leader Stasnich has ordered images of the monster,” the new lead pilot told the ship’s crews. He was online with the other ship. With the number of dead, including a pilot, the remaining Packeoes occupied only two shuttles.

  The responses to the announcement were a lot of grumblings and teeth sucking, but no one was foolish enough to make a negative comment about Leader Stasnich.

  “This isn’t a request,” the pilot shot back to quell the resistance. “Fleet Commander Daminich said we’re not to return to the ships without it.”

  A few days ago, any order that infuriated the crews had the chance of being disobeyed. After clearing out the area of predators, the crews had thoroughly enjoyed the new world. Now, however, the thought of remaining on the planet terrified them.

  Arguments flew back and forth on how the task was to be accomplished. No compromise on who was to do it could be reached, which meant everyone had to participate.

  One idea had been accepted. Security would forage through the trees for game, which would be used as bait.

  On the second morning after their comrades were killed by the reptile, security eased quietly out of the shuttles’ lifts. They peeked furtively around and headed away from the water toward the trees. Immediately, they encountered a problem. They’d eliminated the predators and the small game, and the noise they made, while doing it, served to keep the fauna from returning.

  When security returned to the lead shuttle, the pilot eyed the paltry catch and asked, “That’s all?” He was met with a multitude of shrugs and teeth sucking.

  Techs strung together material to act as a line. The small game animals were tied to the end of the line to create a lure. At the pilot’s signal, the shuttles emptied.

  En masse, the Packeoes crept toward the water. One of the heavier crew, an older security member, was tapped to toss the bait. Three techs held imaging devices to capture the monster’s appearance, and they stood to either side of the lure thrower.

  The remainder of the Packeoes managed to hang back a few paces, but the wary glances of the front four, who occasionally glanced over their shoulders, forced them to stay close.

  Near the water’s edge, the bait wielder swung the lure in a circle and threw it. It entered the water at about a ten-centimeter depth. Sucking heavily on his teeth, he rewound the line, took several tentative steps toward the water, and tossed it again.

  The lure landed in slightly deeper water, and the front four were content to wait where they stood. However, after a while, when nothing happened, they were urged to try another location and heave the bait farther out.

  Repeatedly, the Packeoes fished for their attacker but without success.

  During a meal break, consumed from the shuttles’ prepared stores, it was suggested that maybe the monster had moved on.

  The lead pilot’s answer was that it didn’t matter whether it had or hadn’t. Without the imagery, they wouldn’t be allowed to return to the fleet.

  After the meal, the Packeoes reluctantly returned to the horrid prospect of encountering the stuff of their nightmares. Each time, the approach to the water’s edge was closer, the bait thrown farther out, and the wait was shorter.

  In the early warmth, before the prey left, the offering of food landed within centimeters of the Dorgatha’s snout, but the puny collection of meat wouldn’t have filled its mouth. The prey the Dorgatha wanted was too far away for a successful attack.

  When the warmth was in its fullness, the prey returned. The Dorgatha heard the plop of the meager meal hit the water. It was too far away. Slowly, the sound of the splash came closer, and its interest heightened.

  Finally, the smack of the meat landed not too far from its body. The Dorgatha could see through the water that the prey had gathered near the edge. It tensed the muscles of its body. The prey moved. The next plop hit its back, and the Dorgatha sprung. Powerful legs and a violent swish of the long tail launched the huge reptile from the water.

  The nearest prey were quickly downed, either with a bite, the swing of the snout, or, in one case, crushed beneath a massive dark claw.

  The Packeoes screamed, as the feared monster erupted from the still water. In an instant, it eliminated four of their fellow crew members.

  They raced for the safety of their shuttles. As was their habit, they ran for their assigned ships. Unfortunately, the lift of a shuttle could only accommodate half the crew at a time.

  To the horror of the waiting half, who had watched the lift door close in their faces, the creature wasn’t satisfied with only four kills.

  Three security guards pumped rounds into the beast, as it closed, but it wasn’t swayed. Quick snaps of a massive jaw cut the crew members down.

  Two techs tried to escape by circling the shuttle’s tail. They dashed under one of the shuttle’s three stabilizing arms. The rear Packeo felt a deep wrenching of his back. He dropped to the ground and watched the monster gulp down his legs and pelvis before he died under the crush of its claw.

  The prey had fled, and the Dorgatha halted its charge. It had sufficient food to consume. As it turned to gather its kill, its enormous tail struck the stabilizing arm, which bent outward from the impact.

&nb
sp; Inside the shuttle, which had managed to load only half its crew, the pilot was harangued by the few who had made it aboard.

  “Take off,” a security team member screeched.

  “We were ordered —” the pilot was able to say before weapons were stuck in his face.

  “Launch,” another security guard said, with deadly intent.

  “The other shuttle is lighting,” a tech yelled.

  That announcement made the lead pilot’s decision. “Launching,” he called out, and the crew ran to strap themselves into their seats.

  The pilot’s nimble fingers flew through the prelaunch sequence. When ready, he lit the engines.

  The crew heard the steady increase of the engines’ roar and felt the shuddering of the bulkheads and the seats. At the peak of intensity, which was just before liftoff, the bent strut buckled. The violent shaking of the shuttle had overtaxed the damaged metal.

  Crocia massed twenty-two percent more gravity than Packeo. The invaders’ shuttles weren’t designed for the stresses of the heavier world. The Packeoes would have been familiar with this challenge if they’d founded colonies. With repeated landings and launches on this planet, the shuttles would have eventually failed without intervention.

  In this case, the compromised strut couldn’t handle the combined stresses of the engines’ vibration and the additional pull of the planet’s gravity on the shuttle.

  The pilot felt the shuttle tip, and he screamed a warning. The ship fell on its side, rupturing a fuel tank. The shuttle disintegrated in the resulting blast.

  The second shuttle was meters off the ground, when it and the third shuttle were engulfed in the fiery explosion.

  The compressive blast snapped trees in all directions. The fire burned the vegetation, and the heat rolled across the island and the nearby waters.

  At the time of the shuttles’ immolation, the Dorgatha was underwater. It was secreting two more kills, making the total four. It would have returned for the others, but the noise and fierce heat disturbed it. Instead, it chose to carry off its four captured prey to a safer and quieter feeding location.