Saurians

by Timothy Manley

  He walked down the passage. Few other races were on this level. It was when he went down, to the Grand Matriarch's level that he ran into so many Pyrinni. He waited near a wall and a door opened.

  The lift was full of them. He stared straight ahead, ignoring all of them. Their eyes still bugged him, but he knew why now so the feelings didn't control him. He walked out of the lift and down a plush wooden hall, turning right into a room. A tiny Pyrinni sat in a chair molded to her. A teckton hovered over her, seemingly a giant next to Syntanian, but no taller than Harrington.

  “Matsuotso explained to me that the Earth Union wishes to find a way out,” he said, no preamble, knowing them by now for their bluntness, at least when the Tecktons were around.

  “Explain,” the Teckton clicked in sounds that could be taken as English words to a trained ear.

  “They tire of fighting. Too many human ships are lost. They fear discovery of Earth.”

  “What of the Compendium?” Syntanian asked.

  “We will try to negotiate an agreement with the Saurians that will protect the Compendium.”

  “If they refuse?” the Teckton quipped.

  “I don't know. The Earth Union will have to decide.”

  “Yes,” Syntanian looked at her walls.

  “I need a tachyon link to Junta or Corbis, Syntanian,” he said. “Also I need someone that speaks Saurian.”

  “We have both,” Syntanian said.

  “But,” the Teckton stepped closer to Jeremy, “your people must not stop hostilities and leave the Compendium unprotected.”

  “My people,” Harrington said, “will do what they think is right. Usually what is in their best interests.”

  The Teckton clicked something that Jeremy couldn't make out. He looked to Syntanian. The Teckton left the room.

  “She said it was not what you were raised for.”

  “What does she mean by that?”

  “Giving your people technology. It would seem,” she continued, “that the Tecktons feel that you owe them.”

  Harrington smiled. “Hell,” he said, “and I thought we were cut-throat.”

  “Meaning?” she was confused.

  “Meaning,” he explained, “that your Tecktons have taken a brutal uncaring point of view. I've studied and I know that you violated your own laws by doing what you did. You made us, you have to deal with us.”

  “I would assume that the Tecktons thought they could control you.”

  “How?”

  “I do not know. I was not fully in favor of the move. But it is done. The present is now and the past only exists in our minds. We must ensure that we make the future into something that all our peoples can live in.”

  “I'll contact the Union and get the details from them,” Harrington said. “Then we'll talk to the Saurians and see what they say.”

  “They dumped us on this rock. Hell, I don't even know the name of it, it's just got a number. We shift-shuttled in from our drop off point out-system. We shifted straight-ass right up on top of the ground, dropped down, plopped open the sides and disembarked, First Platoon, Armored Assault.

  “There was a time I could remember, well, not me remembering, but I read about, that those words meant something different. But, now, well hell, I joined up and enlisted in the Marine Corps. I wanted to go into space. I figured I was going into ship's troops. I was all full of this new stuff. Went into powered armor instead. That's what the words Armored Assault is now-a-days.

  “They don't have tanks anymore. You wear the tank, you are the tank. Sixty hours’ worth in the battery. Maybe more, maybe less, depends on how you use your weapon. You get a plasma projector stuck on your shoulder that you can shoot. You get a missile launcher. Different guys get different stuff. Most all guys have full automatic blaster rifles stuck on their forearms. Shooting that puppy all the time drains your battery almost as quick as your plasma gun.

  “So there we were, a whole platoon, which is about twenty guys. We shifted in, three saucers. So there's sixty of us in this one area. We had an objective. The objective being this depot of some kind. Intelligence picked it up. We didn't know what it was, we just knew where it was.

  “We were attacked within an hour after landing. All hell was breaking loose. They were dropping shit on us from orbit. My Rad meter went off a number of times. We broke up into our teams, three men each, four man in the commander's team.

  “There was me, an E6, Charlie and then Dylan both E3s in my team. We jumped over this rise. There's no air on this planet. I don't even know why they wanted it. It's got volcanoes on the poles, they tell me. The planet was only half standard gravity. When we train we train in one and a half standard. So we were skipping along a pretty clip and jumped down into a ravine to get the sensor locks on us broken.

  “This explosion hit about twenty klicks to the back of us, what would be true west. It was pretty big. The ground shook and all our rad meters went off and it jolted us pretty good.

  “Dylan popped his head up and looked over the edge of the ravine with his sensor. He detected a group of five of them bastards, Saurians, big mothers too.

  “Now when you're in power armor you're pretty big. You've gotta be. You're normally like a six foot tall, around one point eight meter tall guy. In armor you're damn near two and a half to three meters tall, not to mention you're massing maybe five hundred kilos. These guys coming in on us were also in armor, the idea wasn't ours first, and these mothers were at least twice as big as us.

  “The Saurians were hopping along melting another team with their plasma guns. Dylan said something and I popped my head up. Charlie stood up too. Two of them leaped up into the air, rockets pushing them pretty high. They blasted the ground, laying covering fire for the other three. Their plasma wasn't too different from ours, only it didn't look as messy, held a tighter beam and had a longer range. It blistered that armor right off of those guys and they popped. They literally popped, the pressure inside their skins was too high for the pressure outside and they blew up. That was no way for no marine to die.

  “Charlie lets loose with a rocket salvo, covering the whole area. We were out of range for our plasma, but not our blasters. We strafed the area. Two of them went down. I don't know if they were dead or not but their suits were out of it. The other three opened up on us with their plasmas. We ducked down and their shots blew up the ground around us. Charlie ducked down with us too, but he didn't have his head anymore.

  “Dylan and I started moving up the ravine, to true north and away from those three. We knew they were planning on jumping right behind us, but this ravine squiggled along and gave a whole lot of cover. We came to a good position, a sharp turn and we set up to wait for them. I figured they were either going to jump ahead of us or come straight down our throats.

  “Dylan freaked out, jumps straight up in the air and fires one of his nukes. The kiloton blast blows him out of the air. They were in the ravine so it didn't do them much harm. My rad meter went off and a pile of dirt flew into the air. Dylan's suit registered yellow in my sensor, but there wasn't much I could do. I climbed out of the ravine. These guys were so big I could see their heads. One of them climbed up and started shooting Dylan with his plasma. They were grouped together real nice. I pulled one of my three nukes, a tube launcher that was hand held. Hell, the rocket blast didn't faze you while in a suit. I shot it and nuked those three fucks.

  “I turned to head to my objective, that goddamned building, and saw a group of fighters coming in. These aircraft were long thin with huge oversized engines on its ass end. They skirted along and blew the shit out of all our guys.

  “I crawled along the ground, laying down while they flew over. They didn't seem interested in me, maybe they thought I was dead. Anyway, I made it to that goddamn dome and blew it up with a nuke. It went real pretty. I was too close and my rad meter went off again.

  “When the dome blew they all stopped, like they were looking at me. The shit hit then. I began hauling butt to the pic
kup point. I had worked past their line, but their fighters zoomed around and headed to me. I could see two other guys working their way to the pickup point too.

  “The fighters strafed in. A blast hit next to me, blew me down and threw me against the edge of a small crevice. My suit registered fourteen percent damage, I was down to less than sixty percent power. I rolled over, sighted one of the fighters, and shot it with my last nuke. The explosion took out all three of them.

  “I climbed to my feet. The temperature in my suit was hot. I was burning up. I ran, kind of jumped, to get to the pickup coordinates. The other two guys were there, I could see them waiting, set up in a defensive fire posture. I jumped into the middle of them and spun around. Hell, a whole shitload of those giant bastards were coming in on us. Their plasma beams were blowing everything up.

  “I really don't remember what happened much next. I remember an explosion ripping through us, I think the head of one of my guys was blown off his body and it hit me. I remember holding it. It turned out I was the only one to survive that mission. I sure hope that dome was worth it. I got a purple heart and a medal of honor for blowing it up.

  “The docs said it was amazing I could walk. But the skin on my legs look funny, like it was melted. The docs said they'll try reconstructive surgery once I heal. I still have a limp and will always have one. Not to mention being fucked for having kids. Hopefully the meds can keep the cancer away.

  A bead of sweat ran down his darkened cheek. It glossed over the grease paint that colored his face green and black. His helmet was of the same color, ridges extending down covering the back of his neck and cheeks. A thin mike swung around to his mouth. It was on an open frequency, everybody heard, nobody spoke unless it was needed.

  Covering his torso was a dull camouflage painted sheath of polymer composite armor. It had a dull leathery sheen to it. His fatigues, colored the same, covered his entire body. About his waist he wore a service pistol, the M2050B1 blaster pistol, in his arms was carried the Lancaster rifle, the M22B. Blackened rank insignia, two bars, were on his lapel. His name, Lang, was stenciled on his body armor on the right side of his chest.

  His company, four squads, seven men each squad, thirty men total company, moved silently down the mountainside. They had been shift-dropped two rotations earlier near the summit of the tree covered butte. Virgin pine, so much like earth the men's hearts ached with the recognition, covered the entire land mass like a thick fur. The local day was just a little longer than standard, closer to twenty six hours. The gravity was the same, higher than standard, more like one and a half.

  Crags jutted out, covered like carpet, as the group approached the valley floor. Their target, the mine, was in the valley at the end of it to true west.

  “First point,” the voice came in through Lang's headphone. “We've got a village just over half a klick downhill.”

  “Hold position,” he said. “Squads move into covering positions.” He worked his way down, his gunnery sergeant and fourth squad with him, to first squad's position. They dropped low and worked their way to the edge of a small precipice.

  Gunnery Sergeant Martin Povel handed Lang his field glasses. Lang put them to his face and adjusted the computer generated image. He watched the village just as if it were a meter away. It was a cluster of wooden huts ringing a circle, with a couple of long houses in the center. Activity was going on in the village, but the building structure blocked this from view. A small, shallow, river ran past the village and wound its way all the way through the valley. Lang scanned and saw four figures moving towards the river. He adjusted the glasses and saw them clearly. His heart stopped. They were four human females, each with black hair and olive colored skin. They carried large earthenware urns on their heads and moved casually down to the river. About their torsos was wound a single piece of cloth, tied at the top just above their breasts and reaching down to mid-calf.

  “Holy sweet Mary Mother of God,” Povel whispered. Lang looked at him sideways, glaring, and saw him staring through the scope on his rifle. “They're people Lieutenant. How-come nobody told us people were on this planet?”

  “Don't know, Gunney,” Lang held his voice down. He dropped the glasses and looked around at his men. All of them stared at him, waiting for his action.

  “Quick, Sir,” Povel said to Lang, “look.”

  Lang quickly put the glasses to his face and looked. A Reggf was moving slowly, an assault rifle slung nonchalantly from his shoulders. He watched the human women fill their urns.

  “It's one of the dog-men,” Povel said.

  “Regifs, Gunney.” Lang handed his glasses back to Povel. Last reports that the Regif people are now working with the Saurians.”

  “Ours?” somebody asked.

  “No, not ours. The ones that stayed behind. These Regifs are hostile.”

  “We gonna take the village, LT?” Povel said, holding his hand over his mike. Lang nodded.

  “Second squad,” he said. “Make your way along the mountain at this level. Position yourself opposite the village but across the river.” He looked to one of his sergeants, the leader to fourth squad. “Carl, you take your squad and work your way to the east. Find a spot and cross the river coming up on the other side of the village. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go now. When you get in position wait for orders unless you hear shooting.”

  Carl nodded, motioned to his men, and headed off into the woods.

  “The rest of us will head down the mountain and cross the river just east of here.”

  “What if they see us?” a disembodied voice asked in Lang's ear.

  “Then we had better be quiet.” He looked to his men. “Move it out, keep it quiet.”

  R'krean stood watching the females gather water from the creek. He felt something, someone, and stared into the line of trees across the river. He was Leader, twelve men under his command. They protected the village, holding it in safety from the rebel spartzitzs. He liked the spartzitzs. Rumor had it they were just like the aliens, the sapiens.

  He couldn't see anything, he couldn't smell or hear anything over the scent of these spartzitzs and the sound of the moving water.

  He changed his attention to the females. He understood the women of these people. They were like he, a mammal, only without the colorful fur, not on their body anyway. Their mammary glands were gigantic and he found himself staring at them, wondering how much the spartzitz children ate when infants. A smile crept on his face. He wondered if they were full all the time and found himself wanting to try it out, just to see. The image filled his mind, his sheath loosened in his ballistic cloth uniform making it comfortable.

  Something caught his vision just from the corner of his eye. It wasn't any distinct motion, more a feeling that caused him to look down the river to his right. Wading across in water up to their chests were sapiens. He knew they were not these natives, they were the enemy.

  “Cha,” he spat to himself and switched off the safety to his beamer. R'krean barked the command and fired at the sapiens in the water. An acute point of red light, barely visible in the bright daylight, emerged at such a speed that it seemed to not travel the distance, but be instantly created linking the weapon with the torso of a man. In the one thousandth of a second the heat burned through the sheath armor and boiled the trooper's body causing it to explode. Most of this was held contained by his clothing, but he fell back and slipped into the reddening water.

  Another one of the sapiens leveled their weapons even with the water. The spartzitzs ran behind him, back to the protection of their village. A stream of blue streaks flooded from the sapien's weapon. R'krean watched the path made by the mass of lights as they walked up the ground and danced about his body. The beams were not as powerful as his, he did not explode. The damage done to him threw him to the ground and left him barely alive.

  Gunnery Sergeant Povel stopped firing his weapon. He was still in the water with the last half of first squad. Lieutenant
Lang turned and looked at him, watched him begin yelling, pushing the men to get to the cover of the trees.

  Small arms fire began gushing from the village. Four men were trapped in the water, one already dead and Gunney Povel holding another up that was wounded.

  “Take the village,” Lang ordered and began running to the small collection of buildings, his weapon streaming beams of blue light. His men followed behind him, firing as they moved.

  The slugs changed targets, they focused on the eleven men charging their protected positions. Lang watched four men fall, all around him. He kept moving. When his weapon was empty he changed the battery magazine on the fly, stopping only when he hit the wall of the one of the wooden huts.

  He quickly scanned the area behind him. Four men were down, on the ground but still moving, the others were at positions along the edge of the small village.

  “Corporal Higgins,” he whispered into his mike. “Go pull the wounded back into cover. Third squad move now.” He jumped up and stepped around the side of the hut. Seven men moved with him, checking their fire. Three men began running, moving to a center fire pit with wooden walls.

  Automatic fire spat from the darkened door next to Lang's position. The three men fell, the rounds from the alien slug thrower chewing through their armor. Lang swung his body and strafed the doorway. He stepped before it, about to enter, when a handgun shot him in the chest. He saw the weapon flare in the darkened hut. The slug threw him back, knocking him off balance, but did not penetrate his armor. He swung his weapon, the beams of his M22 tearing through the walls until the battery magazine was empty. He dropped to his knee and then leaped into the room, pulling his handgun as he moved instead of reloading his rifle.

  The room was dark, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Before him he saw two dead Regifs, one with a heavy automatic weapon and the other just a handgun. In the corner, as if huddled together, was a woman and three small children. Lang could see the trace of his beams, he knew he killed them.