by Ronan Frost
And, of course, the android took the lead. It ran fifty metres ahead as a scout, its mechanical limbs never tiring. It was the perfect reconnaissance vehicle, moving swiftly, able to send crystal clear images in all ranges of the spectrum, and also heavily armed. It was a new machine and hadn't been damaged and worn as many others in the Hartrias army had; it's unmarred surface freshly taken from a bath of oil. As a result it hadn't accumulated a name yet, for names were given to androids by their Sunlord companions. Until such time as it grew battered enough for the Sunlord crew members to see it as an individual it would be known by its serial number; 87-DE.
The computer aboard the tank suddenly detected red spots of heat appearing on the heat scanner. The surrounding forest was blue, and now between the trees were glimpses of red and yellow. The troops saw this through the heads up display on their goggles.
The microphones burst into activity as each of the troops confirmed they had a sighting. Instructions were relayed from the computer controlled tank. "Bravo One, Bravo Three, and Zeta Five skirt to the left. Bravo Two and Zeta Four to the right. Bravo Six hold position. Hold fire until command."
Orders were carried out. The tank did not stop its steady rumbling path as its momentum carried it through the growth. The men on either side peeled off and spread in both directions. One shifted slightly, but remained directly in the rear of the tank. He soon stopped and took cover behind a tree, gun butt firmly into his shoulder.
The tank careened into the clearing, its burbling motor at last reaching the villagers' ears. Those closest, who were washing and bathing in a stream, leapt up, fear in their eyes. The computer detected speech, but it did not slow. The left track spun slightly faster to bring the tank around in a lazy right-hand turn. The cannon turret hummed smoothly around and locked onto their targets. A red light on the inside board flashed showing the weapons were armed.
A moment of silence followed, as if everything had been immersed into thick liquid. The villagers stumbled over themselves, their mouths an O of terror. The tank looked down upon them, an unwelcome intruder upon the people's homes. The Elder's heart leapt into his throat as for that split second he did not know what to do. One thought shot through his mind.
Where were the protecting hunters?
The instant was shattered into unearthly chaos as the swivel mounted machine gun upon the tank erupted into life, casting villagers backwards spilling crimson blood into the air.
Fingers tightened almost involuntarily upon triggers as the heat of the moment exploded - suddenly the troops found themselves adding to the hail of projectiles to bring down the fleeing natives. In a second the village was segregated into two groups; those who lay convulsing and splayed upon the earth, and those who screamed and ran for cover. But those who had by chance survived the initial strike did not consider themselves fortunate, for they knew that their death was close at hand.
The tank fired, the cannon blast one single ear-shattering shell. A hut exploded in angry flame, killing those inside immediately. Smoke filled the area until the breeze picked it up and dispersed it, showing the full extent of the ravages of the shell. A second incendiary shell from the tank shattered a row of huts with a blast of heat. Still the troops fired, each controlled burst finding a target - the villagers were dropping like flies before the deadly ravages.
Nobilor clutched his sword in one hand, the other beckoning his companion towards him. He was in the shelter of a large tree with his back pressed firmly against the bark. The only other hunter in the village was in the open, bow at the ready but was otherwise at a loss. Six of the hunters had been lost when their first village was burnt, and three had disappeared with the Currach. Now two had fallen under this new attack by the Sunlords. Nobilor cursed the day he had brought the Currach to the village - if not for him they would still have five hunters and a chance of survival. But it was only Coire and himself against what seemed a million Sunlords.
Coire dived and skidded the last metre into the cover of a large tree. On both sides dirt billowed as bullets churned the earth. Wide eyed and breathing heavily he brushed his legs and arms shakily, almost afraid to believe that he had made it unscathed.
"Take aim with your bow," said Nobilor urgently. "I will go for the jungle and try to take them from behind."
Before Coire could say a word Nobilor disappeared. He started at a run towards the cover of the trees, zig-zagging in an attempt to throw off the aim of the attackers.
Coire moved dreamily to draw an arrow, his mind numbed with the devastation. Pulling back he let fly in the direction the deadly hail, hoping it would be enough to draw attention away from Nobilor as he buried himself deeper into the forest.
Coire's arrow arced through the air and found its mark, an A-squad trooper outraged to discover the wooden missile sticking obscenely from the joints of his armour. It did not pierce the armour, but it undignified the Sunlord. The computer strapped to his waist tracked the source of the arrow, and a grin spread across his wolverine like face as he squeezed the trigger in a long savage burst. The tree Coire hid behind lost its bark and splinters flew off in all directions, pelting Coire with shrapnel - startling and driving him into the open. It was his immediate death.
By this time Nobilor had circled about, undetected as the A-squad troop was not paying attention to his tracking screen. Nobilor paused for a split second as he examined his foe's hard and alien back. Moments flashing past Nobilor knew he had to act even if he didn't know where to hit. He swung at whatever presented itself to the swinging blade of his broadsword, the heavy weapon whistling through the air in Nobilor's muscled arms.
In a shower of sparks the sword connected with the trooper's helmet mounted camera, dislocating and ripping out wires. The Sunlord staggered with the unexpected blow from an unexpected quarter.
Nobilor swung again, his cries those of hatred, fury and fear. This time the blow merely glanced off the armour leaving nothing more than a scratch.
The Sunlord swirled to face the native, taking a moment to recover as his electronic vision faltered. Although the troop could see through his face plate, the heads-up display was a mess of static and snow. The computer lost its vision, leaving the trooper almost paralysed. Nobilor struck for the third time, knowing that he did not have much time. This time his blow was wide, a result of adrenalin weakened arms and extreme shock. He brought the sword up sharply, catching the Sunlord across the face plate. It did not smash, but it made a solid crunch!
Heartened by his success, Nobilor threw all of his might at the face plate again, a hairline crack appearing on its surface. The Sunlord brought up an armoured forearm to shield of the blows from the native that had suddenly become a serious threat, the machine gun in the other hand rattling off round after round, tearing up the forest in random swaths.
Nobilor struck again, his breath ragged in his throat and his feet unsteady. The broadsword beat upon the trooper as Nobilor sought to weaken the glass. The gun in the Sunlord's hand lost relevance for him - to his fury enraged mind it was far away. He was not concerned that fire licked his boots and the leaves at his feet leapt into the air with the rain of bullets; Nobilor was totally centred on beating the living substance out of the Sunlord.
The glass could hold out no longer. It was strengthened and reinforced but numerous hits from the edge of the steel sword had chipped at its mountings. A thrust from Nobilor shattered it clean from the Sunlord's suit, pushing him over backwards with the gun now shooting the tree tops. Nobilor took less than a second to leap over its body and plunge his sword directly into the Sunlord's exposed face. Blood flew and bone crunched. Nobilor relished the sounds, reward for his labours. Nobilor heaved in a breath as the Sunlord jerked at his feet in his death throes.
Nobilor looked up to notice that the tank had driven over the remaining huts, leaving them broken and splintered, the bodies of his fellows sprawled in the about clearing. Nobilor cursed under his breath as his legs weakened beneath him. He gagged and almost vomited
as a terrible stench hit him and the shock drove home. Mopping his wrinkled brow with the back of his hand he tried to regain his footing.
Crimson coated the surroundings like a cast blanket as blood sprayed from Nobilor's chest like a brief explosion. His eyes wide with shock and terror Nobilor's mind reeled, his hand clenching spasmodically. The long curved broadsword in his right hand fell limply to the mossy ground and dug itself point down into the damp earth.
His eyes slowly but inevitably traced their way down his chest. His body was coated with blood, his lungs blown apart and a long streamer of intestines hanging from the gaping wound. Rib bones were forced outwards, jutted out of flesh like broken matchsticks. This split-second seemed to last eternity for Nobilor, his eyes taking in everything in that moment he looked down. Then he felt his legs give way beneath him like numb stilts and he fell like a broken string puppet. The last thing Nobilor saw was the forest he so much loved reaching up to engulf him.
The Sunlord lowered his rifle as he advanced. The native was obviously dead - its weak body stood no chance against the laser blast. The helmet mounted camera on the Sunlord recorded all that had happened and had kept the computer in the tank informed, its scanners made sure the native was terminated although it seemed obvious that the native couldn't be anything but. Even so, the computer made sure. After all, Avatar had underestimated the inhabitants of the planet L/CN-41a from the start, and they weren't about to make another mistake.
The A-squad trooper's upper lip curled back sadistically as he raised his rifle and shot a second time into the corpse of Nobilor. The invisible line of laser cut through the air and reared yellow flame for an instant as it ignited Nobilor's body.
On the other side of the clearing the android 87-DE scanned the debris of what remained of the village, looking for any signs of movement. As it scouted through the undergrowth it trained its stout machine gun methodically over the terrain, a minicomputer linked to the targeting system determining if the object was a potential hazard.
The tank trundled over the debris of the dead village. The destruction had been swift, lasting but a minute, but it was total. Large clouds of billowing smoke rose silently into the air as fires smouldered.
Gurhuin's eyes narrowed behind the shaded face plate as he spied Jhakl's prone form, green genetically engineered blood caking over his armour. Gurhuin assisted the med-bot and together they lifted Jhakl into the hovering stretcher that had appeared from an opening on the tank, and carried the dead A-squad warrior into the awaiting cavity. Jhakl would be taken back to the Urisa were all useful electronic equipment would be cannibalised. The various computer aids and his brain implant would be removed, sterilised, and re-used. All his undamaged organic vital organs such as the heart, lungs and even the brain would be kept alive in a bank, for in a war these organs are valuable to an injured trooper. Even though the trooper named Jhakl was dead many parts of him would regenerate to see another day.
The door to the cavity in the tank hummed closed as it accepted Jhakl's body into the array of life sustaining equipment. Gurhuin tapped the tank's hull lightly and muttered beneath his breath;
"I'll get them for you. I'll get the thorts so bad they won't know what's hit them."
The tank's voice came over his headphones.
"Bravo two and three, remain planetside for reconnaissance. Android 87-DE has the co-ordinates you are to proceed along, rendezvous as preprogrammed."
Gurhuin stiffened with military discipline.
"Acknowledged. Bravo two out."
A second A-squad warrior barked a response into his microphone.
"Bravo three, out!"
The remaining troopers slung their rifles into the slot on their backs and took up formation. Seconds later they disappeared into the trees as they made for the shuttle landing strip five kilometres away.
The android 87-DE approached the two remaining troopers.
"We make for that range to the east, and camp at 2200 hours. We are to investigate the camp of a survey team. Relay signals to 23 UF."
Both troopers saluted briefly and turned to go about their duty, unaware they were being watched...
Capac ducked down behind the cover of a broad leaved plant, submerged up the neck in the cool water of the bathing stream. Huso swam up beside him, keeping his body under the water and his movements restricted. He floated past shattered ceramic jars, woven mats and the blood of tribesmen that merged with the water.
Ashian had suggested they travel along the stream bed, for he figured that the water would cloak their bodies from the Sunlord's. Ashian didn't know how right he was - the heat detectors on the Sunlord tank complete skimmed over their presence. As they advanced Capac felt a grudging respect for the Currach, thanks to his logic they had avoided the Sunlord's feared all seeing eye.
They had swum for more than twenty metres to reach the village, spurned on by the sound of rifle fire and screaming. Capac raced over the terrain as fast as he was able, but deep in the back of his mind he knew that his efforts were futile. The Sunlords had started shooting and nothing on the planet could stop them. The only thing that stopped Capac from leaping out of the water and charging to his death was the chilling silence that had descended like a blanket. Although his mind was a turmoil of fear the instincts of a hunter remained; he must stay hidden until his prey showed a weakness. Until such time the element of surprise must be kept in his favour.
"See anything?" whispered Huso.
"No. Keep your head down, I'm going to have a look."
Capac drew in a breath and rose slowly out of the mud. He clambered over the bank and peered forward between the reeds, the long barrelled rifle cocked and ready at his side. He caught glimpses of dark figures moving beyond the fringe of trees near the burning village, moving like ghosts through the smoke. They were towering shadows, more than twice the height of any Eloprin - unmistakably Sunlord forms.
Which meant they were too late.
Capac sank back into the stream as the rumbling of the tank broke the silence. It crashed through the jungle and the sound slowly died away.
Myshia had swum up behind Capac and had taken up a position on the river bank. "There are three of them left," she reported.
All eyes turned to Ashian as he cried: "There's someone over here."
Capac scrambled to the Currach's side and helped to free a form pinned down by debris. Ashian cradled the head of an Eloprin form splashed with mud and dirt where he had fallen into the pool. Capac gasped as he realised it was the Elder.
The hunter's heart sunk when he saw the Elder's face. His left cheek oozed blood and a deep cut raked his forehead. His eyes fluttered beneath heavy lids, his breathing harsh and desperate.
"Elder, it is Capac."
Recognition did not show on the Elder's face. He seemed to be lost in his own world of pain and hurt.
Then Myshia was by his side, speaking soft words in the old man's ear. The comfort and assurance were obviously heard as the Elder immediately stirred.
"They're here," he muttered in delirium. "They come...Tell Capac the creatures come..."
His words did in his throat, the final effort seeming to drain his last reserves. He coughed weakly before his eyes glazed over and was still.
Capac's brows furrowed as he gripped the rifle tight. "I'm going in," he growled, standing.
"No, don't," started Myshia. "We don't know how well armed they are."
"I don't care." Capac's eyes gleamed with fury, his usual caution replaced by rashness. "It's gone too far!" He leapt from the stream brandishing the rifle like a club. Huso leapt after him in unswerving devotion with axe high above his head.
Ashian had witnessed the display. "Capac, careful!"
But Capac did not heed the call. He steamed through the jungle at full pelt, leaves and vines whipping his face and hands as he passed. Suddenly he burst into the clearing, smoke enveloping his form. Three towering shadows of the Sunlord's loomed before him.
The rifle blazed in
Capac's hands as it caught a Sunlord midriff and sent him sprawling. A wild war cry erupted from his throat as he lay waste to the invaders.
Myshia immediately put an arrow in the string of her bow and drew it back. The arrow flew through the air with a high pitched whine. 87-DE's computer equipment reacted faster than the eye could see. In milli-seconds it had whipped in a ninety degree turn and fired its wrist mounted gun. Three bullets intercepted the arrow in mid air and shattered it, showering the surrounds in splinters.
Meanwhile Capac had a burly Sunlord head lined up in his sights and his finger cemented itself to the trigger. The Sunlord between the crosshairs of the sight fell backwards, sparks flying as bullets ricocheted from armour. Still Capac held the trigger down, fighting to keep control of the bucking weapon. He lowered it slightly to keep the downed form in his sights.
The armour took many bullets, driving the trooper through the sand like a plough. A scowl lit Capac's face with single minded determination. Huso saw the android as soon as he burst into the clearing after Capac. His heart froze in his chest as he realised it was about to strike Capac.
Huso shook the shackles of fear that held his heart and charged the android. He was almost within range when 87-DE turned, and instead of facing its back Huso found himself face to face with the silver Sunlord. Huso's war cry sounded as he plunged his axe in a downward sweep.
The android reacted faster. Its hand whipped up and a short burst of fire licked from the muzzle of its stubby machine gun, taking Huso's head clean off his shoulders. Huso's form was flung backwards and crashed inert in the smoking remains of a hut.