by Korza, Jay
“I never said I wouldn’t try to escape or kill you. I only said I would give you the location of the bomb and I did that.”
“Semantics.”
“Not really, but anyway...I don’t suppose an apology would really mean anything right now, would it?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. So what’s on the menu, more dirt?”
“I’m glad you can be so glib; it will make breaking you so much more fun. I was thinking, because you have such an affinity for working with humans, maybe I could make it easier for you to do so.” The captor played with his knife around Murgag’s hand.
Murgag knew exactly what was going to happen. Trizites had webbed hands and couldn’t use most human instrumentations because of it. Some Trizites had their webbing surgically altered or removed so they could use human weapons, and other objects made by the dominant fingered-species.
The webbing was extremely sensitive and even professional surgical alterations could have negative lifelong effects: Pain. Deformity. Loss of sensation or mobility. Most Trizites wouldn’t even think of doing it and even fewer actually had the surgery performed.
Murgag regained consciousness just long enough to feel the knife cutting through his last section of webbing. The captor wasn’t just cutting the webbing down the middle; he was actually excising it almost completely from between each finger. Murgag couldn’t help but scream—he had to, with all of his might. The pain was searing through his mind like a star gone nova inside his skull.
“You took my eye, so I will take both of yours.” The captor was moving around to Murgag’s head. “You’ll wish I had killed you. When you’re floundering around this ocean without sight or webbing, you will die a slow death. You will be eaten by the most lowly predators these waters have.”
Murgag felt the tip of the knife being traced around his eye socket, scraping against his spikes and causing pain that normally would’ve been horrid had his webbing not already been cut from his hands, causing more pain than he had ever imagined possible. The knife was getting closer to his right eye; it was about to happen.
Murgag first felt the spray of blood across his face and then the sound of the knife hitting the ground. A few muffled puffs of air, a sound that he didn’t recognize, and then several bodies flowing past the table he was strapped to. As one of the bodies passed, he saw that it was a Coalition soldier and he was carrying a suppressed weapon of some sort.
Once the room was clear, Murgag felt his limbs being released from the table. A Shirka stood over Murgag. “I’m a corpsman. Are you hurting anywhere other than your hands?”
“I, uh, yeah, a lot of places. But I think my webbings are my only real injuries.” Murgag looked at his hands and couldn’t believe they belonged to him. “Who are you guys? Why is the Coalition saving me?”
“We’re not.” A sergeant, probably the squad leader, stepped into view. “Your friend there on the floor was the lead security agent for the entire company. He was using his position to run illegal guns, drugs, and everything else you could think of all over the galaxy. He’s been a target for a while now but hasn’t been out in the field. This little stunt of yours pulled him out of hiding. Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem. That was my plan the whole time.” Murgag flinched as the corpsman sprayed a tissue-bonding agent over his hand.
“Hey, Wilks,” one of the other men said, “come take a look at this datapad.”
Wilks walked to the other man. “What have you got, Bloom?”
Wilks read over the pad for a few minutes and then came back to Murgag. “I just looked over everything they had on you and the work you did here. There’s even a debrief on the bomb you set. Pretty impressive stuff.”
“Are you going to take me into custody? I know you aren’t the police, but by Coalition laws, I am a terrorist.” Murgag wasn’t sure whether he even cared at this point.
Wilks looked around at his squad. “I think you’ll find that despite our outwardly aggressive appearance, we’re all really just a bunch of tree-huggers.”
“Are you making fun of me again?” The Shirka didn’t always get human humor. “I told you I wasn’t scared. I was climbing that tree to get dinner.”
Wilks just shook his head. “If you’re interested in fighting the good fight, I can get a good word to the right people and get you into the Coalition military. You’d make a great marine.”
“I don’t think they would let me in with my record. I’ve been pretty good at hiding my tracks but I’m not a complete ghost.”
Wilks just chuckled. “Hey, Bloom, think you can fix that for our friend here?”
“Sure. I’ll have the records fixed by the time we board our transport. I don’t want them figuring out who he is when we get on board.” Bloom started working on a virtual keyboard that only he could see.
“Why would you do this for me? You don’t know what kind of being I am. You don’t know me at all.” Murgag knew that if this offer was real, he wasn’t going to pass it up.
“I do know you. Maybe not you personally, but I know who you are.” Wilks sat next to Murgag. “You are fighting for what you think is right, and regardless of the ways you’re doing it, you’re actually on the right side here. In prepping for this mission we’ve gathered a lot of intel on you and you’d be surprised at what I know about you. All of your targets could have been Coalition sanctioned if you were with us. Just like douchebag here on the ground.” Wilks pointed to the dead captor.
Wilks stood. “We’re wiping your slate clean. Giving you a chance to do the right thing in the right way. I can’t promise you’ll always agree with your orders, but for the most part, we do good things. Think about it.”
Wilks walked away. Murgag got up and followed the Shirka, who led him from the room and onto their watercraft that was waiting for them.
When they made it back to the transport, Murgag found Wilks in the forward cargo hold. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said earlier.”
“And?”
“Do you really think I could make a difference if I joined the military?”
“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t think it was true. Besides, it looks like your hands are all but ready to grab some weapons and get to work.” Wilks saw Murgag’s spikes turn a yellowish-green color; he couldn’t quite remember what emotion that color scheme was for.
“Not. Funny.” Murgag looked at his bandaged hands and was thankful for the regional anesthetic the corpsman had applied to both arms below the elbow. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it; that’s why I asked you again.”
“What’s different about my answer this time?”
“This time, my arms are completely numb so I’m not in pain. Because I’m not in pain, I was able to focus on you and feel your emotions. I could tell you weren’t lying. That’s what I needed to be sure of before I made my decision. I’m in.”
“That’s great, but I’m not a recruiter. You’ll have to sign up through your friendly local recruiter. After you get through boot camp, I’ll keep an eye on your progress; if you do well enough, you might find yourself with an invitation to try out for Force Recon.” Wilks sat in some crash webbing in the cargo hold, trying to get comfortable so he could take a nap.
“Thank you. For saving my life, wiping my slate clean, and giving me an idea of how I can do things better. I owe you.” Murgag saw Wilks close his eyes and knew the conversation was over.
As Murgag turned to walk away, Wilks added, “If you ever scan me again, I’ll take a knife to your feet and finish the job that guy started on your webbing.”
Chapter 17
Dig Site One – First Contact
“Everyone down!” Scan cried as he hit the deck and the first energy wave came searing through the corridor. Fang was already down and rolling before Scan even yelled a warning. Scan had detected Fang’s knowledge of a foreign presence at almost the exact same time he noticed it for himself. Whoever they were, they didn’t have very nice thoughts.
Unfortunately, Snyder wasn’t an empath or a Shirka and the warning came too late for him. His body was hit by the energy wave and his midsection seemed to just vanish underneath him. With his body in two, he hit the deck, somewhat still alive.
Daria was in one of the rooms towards the rear of the corridor and was slammed to the deck by Davies’ massive body when the alarm was sounded. She heard a human scream and felt the need to run to their aid. Davies held her firm. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, young lady!” He peered his head around the door. The team had opened fire on whatever had fired on them.
“What the hell was that!” Wilks demanded on the comlink. “And for that matter, who or what are we shooting at?”
Fang had the best view because he was at the forward-most room in the corridor. “I can’t tell who or what they are. But judging by their size, I’d say we’re in their home.”
“Oh, shit.” This was from Bloom. “I hope they don’t press charges on me for breaking and entering.”
“Cut the chatter!” shot back Wilks. “Are we doing any damage or just wasting rounds?”
“I’ve hit their lead man several times and nothing. My rounds are bouncing off what seems to be a personal shield. In fact, I can barely make out their forms—just relative size and position. At this distance, their screens are distorting any features that they might have.” Fang let out another burst from his weapon. “I’m going to try the EMP and see if I can disrupt their shields.” He fired the pulse directly at the oncoming attacker and noticed a slight fluctuation in the shield’s harmonics. Fang’s highly-attuned hearing had picked up a slight humming sound right before the first plasma bolts came down the hallway. He now knew that it was coming from those shields and it changed ever so slightly under the barrage from the EMP.
“I think it might be doing something. The shield’s energy seems to be draining. Wilks, Bloom, lay down fire on the target while I continue with the EMP.” Fang returned to firing his EMP and his two teammates followed his orders.
The shield began to sparkle and buckle under the intense beating it was taking. The enemy hadn’t stopped firing but the size of the corridor just wasn’t big enough for them to get more than one through at a time. The smaller humans and even slightly larger Shirka had enough room to lay down fire from four separate places at once without endangering their own squad.
A loud moan of pain was heard from the end of the corridor and the shimmering figure before them went down. The shield disappeared and a huge, never before seen alien laid before them. The other members of the attacking force decided not to wait any longer. They knew their enemy’s strength now and had no reason to wait. In order to get through their shields, the slugs had to dedicate three weapons per shield. And it took a while for that to work.
The remaining four figures lunged for the entranceway. Surprisingly agile for their size, they navigated the corridor easily. The first ran straight down the corridor, unleashing deadly energy from his weapon as he went. Luckily, no one was hit as the marines stayed ducked into the rooms along the corridor.
Fang was up and roaring with his battle sword in hand. The Samurai sword, an ancient Earth design, was made on his home planet with Shirka metal and craftsmanship. Although it was human in design, it was deadly in his skilled hands. He faced the last attacker as he came through the door and with an arcing motion, brought the blade up towards his outstretched arm. Fang howled in delight as the metal slipped easily through the shield and removed the attacker’s right upper arm.
Fang had hoped that he would be able to use a low-velocity weapon to get through the shields. Personal shields that the Coalition used had the same drawback. It was necessary, though, to allow the user to grip weapons, walk without being pushed away from the ground, or lean up against cover. If a shield opposed any object that came at it, the user wouldn’t be able to pick up a gun because it would be pushed away from his hand. Personal shields protected against energy weapons and high-velocity objects such as bullets. Apparently, these aliens hadn’t figured out how to get around that obstacle, either. Once close enough, you could see through the shield that the attackers had four very large arms, and were bipedal.
The attacker continued forward and batted at Fang with his remaining right arm. The blow caught him directly in the jaw, breaking one of the four bones that resided there. Thrown up against the wall by the oversized forearm, Fang brought his knee up into his attacker’s midsection while intertwining his right arm with the assailant’s. Fang had his opponent’s right arm in an elbow lock but the limb was too thick and sturdy to break at the elbow as he had planned to do.
Thinking fast, he pushed a button on the hilt of his sword, which made a small dagger point protrude from the bottom of the handle. Up against the wall, he had no momentum to use his sword to its fullest. With the attacker’s two left arms beating Fang farther into the solid rock behind him, he raised his sword and brought the dagger end down into the attacker’s shoulder.
With the blade deeply imbedded into his flesh, Fang began rocking the dagger back and forth, opening a large wound in the arm. A thick, sticky blue substance flowed from the gash and sprayed everywhere. Fang hoped he had hit an artery, assuming these things had arteries.
The wound made the attacker back off only slightly but that was enough for Fang to get adequate leverage. He pushed off the wall, drew back his sword and then pushed it almost full length into the attacker’s side. This made the alien drop to his knees. Fang quickly took the moment to his advantage; he brought the sword down on his attacker and removed his head in one easy swing. The head rolled halfway down the corridor before it stopped.
Fang dove out of the corridor for cover as one of the attackers turned his energy weapon towards him. Once outside the corridor, he keyed his comlink. “Their shields are protective against high-energy attacks only. Use hand-to-hand weapons or low-energy rounds only. Sub-sonic rounds might be slow enough to get by the shielding.” Another energy bolt seared passed Fang’s head as he tried to peer inside the corridor. “I’ve taken out their rear support. Three are still inside.”
“Everyone copy that?” Wilks asked. “Give me a sound off. I want to know who’s still with me.”
Everyone but Snyder sounded off. The energy blasts had stopped for the moment as the attackers had no targets directly in sight. “I can’t get back in. Number three is laying down cover fire every time I try. I’m out of this for now.” Fang’s voice was filled with rage.
“Command channels are being jammed”, Emily offered. “Bloom and I”—”
Emily’s transmission cut short and Davies wrestled Daria back to the ground as she tried to leave the room. “She can take care of herself”, Davies assured her. “Besides, we have one coming our way. Sit tight and we’ll get to her in just a few.”
Emily and Bloom sat in opposite corners of the room. Emily was intently watching their stalker. He entered the room with his weapon at the ready. It had some sort of tracker on it that beeped as he waved it around the room, trying to find his quarry. It made a different pitched tone as he pointed in Bloom’s direction. At the change in tone, he started towards Bloom’s corner.
Emily could see the whole thing from where she sat but knew that Bloom had no idea that he’d have company in just a few seconds. The attacker’s back was to Emily and she decided that it was now or never. She pulled out her throwing knife, which Daria had given her and had taught her how to use. Taking aim, she threw it at the center of the beast’s back.
Good luck and bad aim landed the knife deeply into the alien’s neck. Apparently not deep enough, though, because he turned to look for his attacker. Daria had taught Emily to always follow up a throw with either a full-out assault or a dead run in the opposite direction. She said that unlike the holovids everyone was used to watching, a throwing knife rarely caused instant death. It could however, provide an opening for the thrower to get closer to his wounded opponent. And because there was nowhere to run, Emily had no choice. Sh
e immediately leapt at her target the instant she threw her blade.
He was not only at least three times her size but seemingly four times as fast. He was already turned in her direction as she was within striking distance of his body. She attempted to butt stroke his face with her rifle but was stopped by his two lower arms grabbing her in a bear hug and lifting her off the ground. He was rearing his two remaining arms back to squash Emily’s head between his gigantic fists.
A gush of blue blood splayed all over Emily’s face as the creature’s head split in two with a slightly muffled woomph. Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of Emily as he fell forward onto the ground. His humongous body pinned her to the floor and was crushing her ribs to the point where she almost couldn’t breathe anymore.
“Oh shit”, Bloom said from behind the huge corpse. “Hold on, Lieutenant, I’ll get you out. God, these things smell.” His commentary went unnoticed by the trapped warrior.
“Shut the hell up and get him off me”, Emily gasped.
“Save someone’s life, get bitched at. Just trying to help, ma’am.” He placed his rifle butt underneath the behemoth and used it as a lever to roll him up.
“What happened?” Emily said as she rolled out from under her assailant.
“Once inside his personal shield, I was able to fire an explosive round into his head.” Keying his comlink, Bloom continued, “There’s about a five-centimeter space between their personal shields and their actual bodies. If you can get close enough, you can use your rifles. I’d be damned careful, though.”
“Ah, thanks for the warning”, Scan came back. “I’m sure we wouldn’t have figured that ‘being careful’ thing out for ourselves. Doc, one of them is headed your way.”
“Lay down some cover fire”, Davies began. “We’re in a shitty location. Draw his attention so we can adjust our attack.”
Wilks peered around the corner and ducked just in time to save his head as an energy blast hit the wall outside the door where he was. “I can’t get out to fire. I think the walls are sturdy enough to handle our grenades”, Wilks said while unhooking one incendiary grenade and one concussion grenade from his belt. “I’m tossing two in the hall on my mark. Who knows, maybe they’ll actually hurt one of them.” Not really believing it himself, he pulled the pins. “Mark!” Two grenades entered the hall.