Essence: Book 1 - Septima

by Nick Braker

  “Sure man, whatever ya want.”

  “Thanks,” Troy said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Troy maintained eye contact with Chance, watching his reactions. Was he playing with him? Was this one of his jokes? No, Chance looked completely serious. Whatever Alta did, it worked very well. But what if it worked too well for the situation they were going into? What if someone gave an order in the heat of battle without being able to think through the repercussions? His shoulders would have drooped to the floor but one thing he had learned while trying to be a leader was to keep his body language neutral.

  Alta chose them, remember? Do you think she might be trying to get them killed?

  “Fuck,” Troy said, whispering it.

  “Sir?” Caiden said.

  “Nothing, keep a protective eye on those three, would you?” Troy whispered.

  Caiden nodded. Troy’s ignorance would get them all killed. In order to keep them all alive, he had to think of every possible scenario. How could he though? He suffered from headaches almost constantly and his friends were compromised to do whatever they were told without their own volition. He led a crew primarily made up of culturally ingrained pacifists with very little military training, using unreliable and outdated weaponry. Did he really think they could take out a squad of war trained, rat-lizards?

  Focus on what you can do and stop worrying about what you cannot.

  Troy shook his thoughts clear, agreeing with his inner voice. They arrived at the ambush point slightly over an hour later. Ahead of them, the Piran landscape sloped downward into an area cordoned off by a north and a south ridge line. Between the two ridges were open terrain about half a mile long and half again in width. Both ridge lines were cliffs that, according to Alta’s terrain map, were roughly 100 feet tall. The northern cliff was connected to the bottom of a large mountain. It rose quickly, disappearing into the thick white clouds above.

  Between the two cliffs, in the clear, snowy terrain, were three areas made up of naturally occurring tree trunks, twigs and debris. Each of these, roughly twenty feet in diameter, broke the pristine cleanness of the snow-covered landscape. They appeared natural but reaching them meant leaving tracks. One of the three areas was less than 300 feet away on the west side, midway between the two cliffs. The furthest debris area also sat roughly midway between the cliffs but that one was on the far east side where the Reptaurans would be coming from. The creatures would have no other choice but to travel through the passage between the ridges. They could brave the harsher terrain of a mountain to their right or the dense, evergreen forest to their left only after scaling either cliff. The third area butted up against the north cliff near the middle. All three areas offered the potential to conceal the explosives that he carried, if only he could reach them without leaving footprints along the way.

  Kenn had provided Troy with a backpack full of explosives and had informed him that with the hand-held detonator the explosive satchel could be activated remotely. Getting them in place, though, could expose the entire ambush.

  “The best chance we have is to get set up on the north and south cliff edges and wait for them to come through the middle. We will have height advantage and surprise on our side,” Troy said.

  There were ten people in his group. Cienna, Septima, Caiden, Lakin, Geoff, Chance, two Piran men, Monro and Rigs, and a Piran woman, Danira, that Caiden claimed were his best marksmen. With the exception of Cienna, Septima and himself, they didn’t have anyone else who could handle themselves hand to hand. After Alta’s adjustments, his friends had shown great aptitude with weapons and, unlike most Pirans, a willingness to kill.

  “Geoff, Lakin, Caiden and you two,” he said, pointing to the Piran men. “Head to the north cliff face. Do what you can to minimize or cover your tracks in the snow. We can’t let them see our tracks up to the point we scale the cliffs. The rest, you’re with me,” Troy said. “Caiden, go.”

  “Good luck, sir,” he said, moving his group out toward the north cliff side.

  Where did Caiden learn that human expression?

  Caiden led his team along the base of the north cliff wall. Troy trusted he would stay away from the center area while looking for a spot to climb up. He motioned his group toward the south wall.

  “I’m thinking I can scale this cliff side,” Troy said, looking up. “It juts out too much for the rest of you but the lower gravity should give me the edge. If we don’t try that, we’ll be moving farther down the cliff toward the middle area. There is a point near there that will make it easier for all of us to scale. I simply don’t like the tracks we’d leave along the way, even if we walk along the bottom cliff line edge.”

  “Give it a shot,” Cienna said. “I’m interested in seeing how strong you are.”

  “Actually, Cienna, while I’m working my way up, I want you to deliver this backpack to that first area of dead trees and limbs there. Cover it with twigs and limbs but don’t bury it.”

  “What’s in it?” Cienna asked.

  “Explosives.”

  “Hell no,” she said.

  “We really don’t have time to argue about what you are and aren’t going to do,” Troy said. “We estimated their arrival here. We could be mistaken if they moved faster than anticipated.”

  “You run the show as long as I agree with your orders,” Cienna said.

  Chance and Danira’s faces displayed obvious shock, though Septima didn’t look surprised at all.

  “I’ll do it,” Septima said, stepping toward him.

  Septima glared at Cienna as the two friends exchanged unfriendly looks between them. What was going on between the two? Troy put the backpack on her, swapping it for her sniper rifle and gear. Septima needed to be as mobile and as light as possible to mitigate her tracks in the snow. Troy wanted the Reptaurans to get far enough through the ravine that their only good choice when the ambush began was to take refuge in this debris area. It would provide them cover and tactically would be their best option, given the situation. Troy had to ensure his people waiting on the ridge lines above went undetected long enough that the Reptaurans would continue through the ravine as if it were a patrol like any other.

  He had chosen Cienna to deliver the payload because her physical skills were far superior to anyone else in the group and, with her lighter weight, she could get it done quickly, leaving minimal tracks in the snow. Cienna was the best choice, but Septima was a close second. Troy’s plan would still work, though he would discipline Cienna when they returned.

  Troy helped Septima secure her backpack. She turned to face him, her eyes were still puffy and Troy thought she had a gaunt look to her. Septima looked like she wanted to say something to him but instead she nodded and headed down the slope. Troy watched her a moment as she tried to find spots of rock and debris to step on where possible along the way. Her tracks through the snow would give them away if the lizards were being careful, likely they would be. He sighed inwardly, watching her work her way to the demolition spot. He wanted to protect her, keep her out of harm’s way.

  Seriously? Haven’t you learned yet? She’ll lie to you again.

  Troy clipped the remote detonator to his equipment belt and then turned his attention to the cliff wall.

  “Sir?” Danira said, holding up his climbing equipment.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  Danira attached the harness and rope to him, double checking the equipment was in working order.

  “Looks good, sir. I wish you well,” she said, placing her hands together in front of her as if she were praying. Danira bowed slightly at him.

  “Thanks, Danira.”

  Troy tested the first set of hand and footholds trying to get a feel for it. He seemed to handle his own weight easily which was reasonable since he was about 25 pounds lighter. Something else was different. He already knew his reflexes were faster but, now that he thought about it, so were his mental abilities. He could see a path up the wall as easily as following a well-worn
trail through a forest. Troy could see each point along the way where he would put his hands and feet and those he would simply dangle from using either one or two hands.

  A few minutes later, Troy reached the cliff ledge, pulling himself over it. He lowered the rope down, pulling each of them up, one at a time. Chance was last while they waited on Septima to work her way back. She had taken her time getting to the debris point, doing a fantastic job of being careful to avoid leaving tracks. Chance tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Company,” he said, pointing to the east.

  The lizards were early and Septima was stuck in the open, exposed and unable to return. She had seen them too and was crouched down behind one of the larger fallen logs in the debris area.

  “Move down the ridge line, follow right behind me,” he ordered. “We have to stay out of their sight. We can still ambush them and keep them from reaching Septima.”

  Troy’s plan had changed. He couldn’t use the explosives now because Septima was in range. She couldn’t expose herself. He also couldn’t use his comm-device because the Reptaurans were close enough to detect electronic transmissions. Troy took off, staying as far as possible from the cliff edge, ensuring they could not be seen by the lizards below. They ran east through the deep snow crouched as low as possible. Their path ran along the forest of evergreen-like trees, forcing them to crawl at several points along the way if the forest ran too close to the cliff. Troy had to get them to the ambush point, get them into position, and then give them time to set up. Time was running out.

  “They’ve got war hounds with them, Tohmas,” Cienna said quietly as they ran. “If we are upwind, the dogs will warn them and they’ll take cover. I’d wager they will likely fall back, away from the cliffs toward the way they came.”

  Troy stole a glance over to the other group on the far cliff side. He couldn’t see any of them.

  Where are they?

  Troy caught a break. Ahead of them, the evergreen tree line shifted away from the cliff edge which meant a chance to pick up their pace. He figured it would take them three minutes to reach the ambush point where they could set up and have a decent chance at taking as many down as possible. As soon as his teams started firing, the rat-lizards would disperse, returning fire as they took cover. If the war hounds were completely stupid, they would come straight at them which would be useless as they couldn’t scale the cliffs. If they were true predators, they would circle around trying to find a point in which they could reach them. Why hadn’t someone mentioned that the Reptaurans used war hounds? Were they a new addition?

  The others were having trouble keeping up so he stopped and looked again across the open ravine to the other cliff side. The mountain behind it was massive and mostly obscured by clouds but visibility at the ridge line was not obstructed, yet Troy could not see them.

  “Did Caiden’s group make it up?” he whispered, as they caught back up to him.

  “I don’t think so. I never saw any of them reach the top,” Danira said.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “We can’t keep going then. If they are stuck down there, the dogs will chew them up while the lizards open fire on them. Spread out, take positions at the cliff edge.”

  His group had run perhaps a 1000 feet before he ordered them to take positions along the cliff edge. They weren’t quite where he wanted but it would have to do. Troy crawled to the edge, motioning everyone to keep their heads down while he peered over it.

  The war hounds, seven in all, had caught a scent of something below. They jogged along, sniffing the air and ground as they moved closer to their prey. The Reptaurans, already wary, were spreading out, with most of them moving to the north cliff area of large, dead trees.

  Troy could see the next few seconds play out in his mind’s eye. Septima would be discovered as well as Caiden’s team. Once the dogs found them, the Reptaurans would open fire. Surprise was gone and six of his team would be dead. His plan had failed.

  Chapter 22

  WAR HOUNDS

  Pira - Seconds later.

  Septima was nowhere in sight, even from Troy’s vantage point on the cliff. She had to be hiding behind the fallen tree trunks. The larger logs were excellent concealment but her position was as tenuous as Caiden’s. The war hounds would find them and the firefight would begin. He spied Caiden’s group. They had hunkered down behind a snow bank with their backs to the cliff wall. They were concealed from the Reptauran’s line of sight but snow would not stop the hounds or the Reptauran’s blasters. They would overwhelm them quickly.

  “Set up now,” he ordered.

  The next few seconds were the longest. His group worked to get their rifles mounted to the small tripods and then into position. Troy had to wait. If he fired now, he could take a few out but their advantage lay in dropping several of them before the Reptaurans realized their own exposure from the side.

  Damn it. Hurry.

  “Set,” Danira said, to his left.

  “Set,” the others said in rapid succession.

  Several Reptaurans were crouched low but still moving forward. They advanced on Caiden’s team, with three having already reached positions of cover from their prey but not from Troy’s group. Had they already spotted Caiden’s group or were they reacting to the hounds? Right now, it didn’t matter. Troy had to take them down. This worked or half his team was dead.

  “Fire,” he ordered.

  Troy sighted and fired. Shots from both sides of him rang out as well. His target’s head snapped to the side, sending large sprays of blood into the snow. The creature’s momentum carried it into the cliff wall, several feet away. A small bank of snow from the cliff above fell, covering the dead Reptauran. He sighted again but the Reptaurans were already returning fire. Troy didn’t take cover and instead fired a second time. The energy pellet plowed the creature into the snow as it entered its chest cavity between its armor blaster plates. A concussion of energy bolts hit the cliff edges in front of Troy, sending snow and rock pieces flying. He took stock of the battle below through his scope. Caiden’s group wasn’t firing. The advancing Reptaurans blasted their area in a constant barrage of destructive energy. They’re bolts were electric blue and sizzled the spots they hit. At least two of Caiden’s team were already down, possibly dead. He shifted the scope to Septima. She was standing, waving her arms at the dogs while yelling at them.

  Septima! That crazy woman. What was she doing?

  “Take cover,” he screamed at her but he knew she couldn’t hear him.

  His heart surged into his throat. The dogs had found her and had already changed direction. She had seconds before they would begin ripping her apart. She launched the satchel at the dogs, taking cover. It landed well in front of them and Troy knew instinctively it wasn’t far enough. If he detonated the satchel, she would die as well.

  Danira’s head fell forward unnaturally as a blast from behind her ended her life.

  Behind?!

  He rolled over, bringing his rifle around with him. At least two Reptaurans were in the tree line behind him. They were both prone and concealed behind trees.

  How the hell?

  Troy fired back, putting the weapon into automatic mode. He would get several seconds of shots before the weapon would overheat but he had to keep them from firing again.

  “We’re flanked,” he screamed.

  Several other streaks of red energy joined his, blasting the trees. Troy glanced back at the battle behind him. The dogs were past the satchel and running headlong at Septima. Caiden’s group was pinned down, unable to fire and the Reptaurans were now ignoring Troy’s team. They knew he was flanked.

  Cienna, next to him, was on her back firing into the tree line. Snow and blood covered her face and arms, leaving spots of red in the snow around her. Strands of hair stuck to her face, her eyes were ablaze with a fierce determination to kill the two behind them.

  It won’t be enough.

  Chance fired back, rolling away from both of them, trying to reach cove
r behind a small boulder near him.

  It won’t be enough.

  They were out in the open with nowhere to run. The Reptaurans had played it safe, sending two scouts along a different route.

  Dumbass. You got them all killed. It’s not going to be enough.

  What had started out as an easy ambush had fallen apart into a deadly trap. The Reptaurans were not to be underestimated and that was exactly what he had done. Septima would be pulled apart, limb by limb when the war hounds reached her.

  Caiden’s team couldn’t lift their heads to return fire. They would be shredded by blaster fire as the Reptaurans reached their position. He hadn’t noticed the two missing Reptaurans from the very beginning. The dogs had distracted him and his concern for Septima overpowered his rational thought. Did he still care for her? His decisions had brought death to all of them and his feelings for Septima had clouded what little judgment he had.

  His comm-device chimed. It was Septima’s chime.

  Tohmas’ abilities were not enough now. His weapon would overheat while the Reptaurans simply waited it out. They were trained soldiers and knew their enemy. The battle around him had slowed down long ago, an agonizing ability he received from his parasitic changes. He would die, his body would grow cold, and days from now, he would be covered in snow, decaying into the Piran soil beneath him. He could see the scene play out in his mind like he could see the path up the cliff wall, each meticulous point along the way revealed in detail...

  Wait, covered in snow...

  “Keep them pinned,” Troy screamed over the din of battle.

  Troy had an idea. He flipped over, blaster in hand. His weapon sizzled in the snow, hot enough to create puffs of steam. He still had several manual blasts left before it shut down. He fired into the mountain side above, letting the weapon’s energy expend itself.

  Troy stole a glance in Septima’s direction but he didn’t hesitate. He pulled the detonator out and brought his hand up, pressing the button. The blast detonated, ripping through the flesh of the war hounds. The concussion sent them flying toward the debris area and toward Septima, splintering the logs apart as the blast proceeded outward. Septima had sent him a message. He hadn’t read it but he knew its intent. It was her permission, her acceptance. She knew he had to detonate the explosives, she’d be dead either way.