by Mark Wandrey
Faced with a compromised mission, Var'at was presented with two options. Proceed or return. If he returned empty clawed, he might well face harsh punishment. Even in the face of a higher order species, commanders such as himself were expected to try and find advantages and thus complete their mission. Armed with that knowledge he ordered his scientist to determine who or what came through the portal since their last visit. The scientist, a lowly female known only by her title, brought out sensors and cast around with them.
"Commander, I detect the strong presence of another species. It was present only mere tenth days ago."
"Can you determine what species?"
"It is not a higher order species," she said quickly, her claws tapping on the computer screen, "of this I am certain. Ah, yessss," she hissed as data came to match her outputs. "A hominid species, clients of the Tog known as Human."
Var'at hissed in triumph, bearing his teeth in such a savage display that the female automatically cringed in fear and all his males bowed in submission. Humans again! Several tenth years ago he investigated the loss of a scout team, one of whom was his nest mate. He found only cremated remains and traces of hominids. There was only one hominid species in the Concordia now, these humans. He was not even aware there were any hominids in the Concordia until then. That his nestmate died in combat was common and almost to be expected of such a lowly profession, but to be burned like poorly preserved meat? An unbelievable outrage! He'd vowed revenge against the young hominids. The galaxy was vast and the Humans even fewer in number than the Rasa, but they still had their powerful higher order patrons as shields against naked aggression. The humans on their leasehold were strictly off limits. Var'at lacked the influence with the nest leaders or enough provocation to encourage an open vendetta against the Humans, so he'd bidden his time and waited. Now his patience was to be paid back.
"The humans must have found our cache," he told his males, hoping with all his being that he was right. They'd quickly taken a tram and set off for the recorded location of the cache. Now that they were approaching his males were readying weapons for the coming battle.
"The destination is after this next station," the scientist told him, trying to be helpful. He gestured dismissively and the scientist bowed away. The tram car was semi-transparent and he could see the lights of a station. His tongue flicked out impatiently. Then their tram slowed for no apparent reason. He snapped at the scientist to find out why. Just as she was accessing the tram controls to find out, another tram cut in from a side tunnel. "Never mind," he mumbled. The tramway traffic computer was just being efficient.
Var'at could see the other tram was empty and suppressed anger at being slowed. Why hadn't the computer made that tram wait? He could hear the scientist tapping on the trams controls, maybe trying to find out the same thing herself. “Why is that other tram even running?” he asked the scientist.
"Commander," the scientist hissed in alarm, "the tram programming was overridden!"
"What are you talking about," he said and turned toward the controls. The sudden movement saved his life as three hypervelocity projectiles tore through the tram. Not being ready to immediately enter combat, they'd been traveling with their helmet face shields up to make breathing easier. The shields cramped their elongated snouts. The slug meant for Var'at sprang harmlessly off the side of his armored helmet, the others tore through bone and brain of two males, killing them instantly.
"We're under attack!" the scientist hissed needlessly. She was now the only one standing in the tram. Wind began to whip around the inside through the holes tore into the forward windscreen by the projectiles. The scientist looked through the cracked screen in horror at three humans crouched against the rear platform of the leading tram. They were working the mechanisms of their weapons and preparing to fire again. She screamed as she realized they were all aiming at her.
Something grabbed her tail and jerked almost hard enough to detach it. The three slugs meant to end her life tore through the air just over her unarmored head. "Foolish female," Var'at hissed and popped at her. "Stay down if you wish to continue living!" She lay on the floor of their tram and shook with uncontrollable fear as the four surviving soldiers crouched under the deadly weapons fire. Are they dead?" he asked his male who was examining the bodies.
"Yes, leader."
Var'at nodded his head and gave it no more thought. They'd served their nest well, and he hoped to die as honorably someday, but not today. "What killed them?"
"Appears to be simple projectile weapon, very large caliber!"
Var'at felt the side of his helmet and found a nasty groove there. The projectile possessed enough energy to peel away several layers of the ceramic and dualloy composite armor. It didn't possess enough energy to injure him through the armor, though. "They took advantage of our open helmets," he told them and instantly all four locked theirs closed. The projectiles may be able to penetrate the clear view slits. Var'at doubted any being could be that accurate. "Let’s return the favor," he said and readied his weapon.
The four males rose to a kneeling position and discharged their weapons. Thousands of hypersonic ceramic steel flechette darts tore through the remainder of the forward windscreen and into the other tram, blasting out all its windows, chewing up the seating, and punching holes in the walls. After one sustained burst they stopped firing to conserve their power packs. The humans popped up and fired a single shot each in reply. Though ineffective, Var'at admired their marksmanship. All three shots each hit their marks! A shot splashed off his own armor almost dead center over his heart. Too bad they were such a worthless species and possessed no better weaponry.
They traded salvos several times with no more effect than to further mangle both trams. The humans were surprisingly fast and adept at dodging the Rasa's less precise weapons. As they were preparing another barrage, both trams slowed. They were approached a station. That was when Var'at noticed the other tram was trailing smoke, and that gave him an idea.
"Fire at the mechanism of the other tram!" he ordered as they rose to fire yet again. This time they pumped thousands of darts into the rear of the other tram just as they two were coming to a stop inside the station. With a brilliant discharge of plasma the other tram split nearly in two. Its gravitic impeller mechanism destroyed, the stricken vehicle crashed down on the ceramic concrete tramway where it bounced and ground to a thunderous stop.
A lone human jumped from the tram and raced away, leaping through a maintenance doorway before any of the males could fire at it. "The others are dead or injured," Var'at proclaimed victoriously. "You two, investigate the wreckage for survivors, you come with me and we will hunt down the other."
"What do we do if the humans still live, leader?"
"Relieve them of the burden of their worthless lives," he hissed. Their tongues flicked out in excitement as they quickly locked new magazines of flechette darts into their weapons and moved to check the other tram. Var'at led a male toward the maintenance door.
As they approached the door he hissed in anger. This was the location of the cache! The humans found it after all, and this foolish survivor was taking refuge inside. "You had better not have harmed our goods," he hissed through the door, careful not to needlessly expose himself to enemy fire. His translator repeated in several other Concordia languages, waiting to hear another translator reply before settling on one. "Turn over what is ours and we will consider allowing you to survive."
Another translator replied in a language Var'at didn't recognize. He waited for his own translator. "Go and mate with your nest mother," was the translation. Var'at cocked his head trying to understand. Was this an attempt to gain favor by suggesting he was of high enough status to mate with the nest mother? It seemed unlikely that human even understood his species at all, and thus a poorly translated insult. He heard the sounds of his other males shifting wreckage in the ruined tram and decided he didn't want to waste any more time on the foolish humans.
"Grenade," he or
dered the male with him. The male hooked a grenade with one claw and armed it with another before handing it to Var'at. "This is your final chance, human. My patience is expired."
"Consume your own excrement," was the reply this time. Regardless of the translation, the meaning was obvious. He activated the grenade and with a light underhand motion tossed it through the doorway. He was careful so that it wouldn't roll all the way down the ramp inside and damage the cache. They both flattened themselves on either side of the maintenance door and hissed warnings to their other males as it exploded.
The detonation shook the floor and sent a cloud of crushed ceramic concrete dust billowing out into the station. After a moment one lone human came staggering out of the doorway, a weapon held loosely in one of its clawless hands. He was surprised it survived the attack. With a shrug he fired his weapon again.
The other male fired at the same time unleashing a deadly hail of flesh shredding darts. Instead of tearing the human into bloody rags, a shimming trail of glowing sparks traced along the air between him and his target. A similar effect accompanied the other male’s weapon fire. The human stopped staggering and stood steadily as it raised its own weapon and bared a mouthful of blunt teeth at them.
"It has a shield!" Var'at hissed in panic as the human fired. Instead of the booming of a projectile weapon, the air was rent by a sizzling Crrrrack! of a beamcaster. Var'at just managed to dive aside and still got hit. He hissed in pain as the first shot struck the wall just behind his head. The near miss burned through the armor and seared a notch from his head crest. Molten globs of steel flew through the air where the shot blew a half meter wide hole in the station wall. The human fired again and Var'at heard a strangled hissing scream. He knew another male was dead. Their armor was nearly impervious to advanced projectile weapons, and almost worthless against energy weapons.
The two males he'd sent to the other tram climbed back onto the platform and unleashed a screaming river of projectiles at the humans back. Its shield glowed where the darts were disintegrated without penetrating. It fired at Var'at again. He only survived by scrambling on all fours like a primitive lizard. He swallowed the shame and thanked the stars that he still lived even though his skin was being burned by the molten shoulder armor now.
Var'at turned and dashed toward the tram they'd arrived in, now their only hope of escape. As he turned the two humans he'd assumed were dead were now rising from the wreckage of their tram. Neither of his other males noticed, being too preoccupied with pouring fire on the human assaulting their leader. Var'at didn't have time to warm them; they were both hit squarely in the back by energy blasts. The beamcasters melted their armor and turned internal organs instantly to steam. They exploded like over boiled eggs, mouths wide in shock, dead before they hit the floor.
He continued to race for the tram and saw clearly as the scientist appeared in the door, beckoning for him to hurry. The look of surprise froze on her face as a beamcaster nearly cut her in two.
Var'at was halfway between the wall and the tram. He stopped running and dropped his head. His independent eyes could see all three humans were aiming at him. It would be over quickly, the pain would swallow the taste of burning failure. Defeated by lowly hominids with his own cache of weapons. There came no searing blast of energy, only silence. He looked back at the one who'd fired first and pretended to be wounded. Its grotesque mouth was twisted upwards showing its blunt teeth. "Why do you hesitate?" he hissed at it.
"Do you yield?" it asked.
Var'at was taken aback. He hadn't expected any form of civilized exchange, especially an offer of mercy from a primitive species.
"I yield," he hissed and dropped his weapon to dangle from its power cord. One of the humans came over and unbuckled the power belt, having some difficulty without any claws to operate the mechanism. He reached up to help and the other two humans tensed. "I have yielded," he told them, "we honor the law." The one who'd spoke, likely the leader, nodded its head and he was allowed to unbuckle the belt. Now unarmed and helpless, he fell to the floor and assumed the posture of surrender. Chin on floor and eyes downcast, he awaited his fate.
"You will wait here until we have claimed the cache, then you may return to your world."
"No demand of ransom?"
"I believe we have enough of value this day." Var'at hissed in rage and cast his eyes down in agreement.
"You are much more devious than we believed," Var'at told the human leader. "We shall not underestimate you again. May I ask the name of my wise opponent?"
"I am Minu Alma, Chosen of the Tog."
Var'at knew they must at least be a Chosen group. Only the best of a species could ever defeat him. "You and your other males do them justice."
"I am not a male," she said. He looked at her with one eye and the others with another. Aside from slightly longer hair on her head and fleshy bulges on her chest he could detect no other differences. Was it true the humans used females in combat? That spoke volumes of their foolish weakness.
"I understand," as all he said. "Where do you wish me to wait?"
* * *
Minu watched the logistics team work with the handheld gravitic impellers they'd brought. Each crate was moved to the platform where it was attached to an oversize broomstick. The pilot then took off with it down the tramway. A few kilometers away they were loading the containers onto trams to take to the world’s portal. Unfortunately, their battle did too much damage to the trams station and it would no longer function, a central computer took it off line. While they worked Minu watched bots begin to arrive and start repairs. No one had lived here for many centuries, and still the systems functioned.
A short distance away the Rasa leader (Var'at she'd learned from him) squatted and waited for them to finish. She'd assigned a scout armed with one of their projectile weapons to guard him as a formality. Once he'd given his surrender he was as docile as a kitten. Still, he watched everything with sharp eyes. Taking careful note when the broomsticks showed up, and watching how they used the portable gravitic impellers to move the heavy crates.
The leader of the logistics team that responded to her summons stared in slack jawed shock to see her standing by the portal, armed with an alien energy weapon and protected by a personal shield. She showed him the quickly improvised stock they'd crafted in the tram by scavenging their shoulder fired rifle stocks. It was crude, for certain, yet it allowed them to aim and fire the weapons with some accuracy while keeping the old guns still working. Var'at didn't know how lucky he was that they were improvised, or he wouldn't have survived to surrender.
The logistics three star let her know as the last container was being whisked away on a broomstick so they could leave as well. Minu rode on the rear of one with Var'at between her and a nervous four star logistics Chosen as they raced down the tramway.
"Are you certain you do not need a medic to look at that?" Minu indicated the Rasa's neck. There was a fairly neat half circle cut through the beings fleshy frill on the back of its long flexible neck. She couldn't imagine it not hurting, though there was very little blood. The beamcaster effectively cauterized the wound.
"I will survive to see one of our own medics." One of Var'at's independently swiveling eyes turned to regard her for a moment. "Not that I don't doubt your technical ability, you humans are very ingenious," Var'at hissed.
"All we did is find your cache before you returned. Pure luck."
"It was luck, but I was not referring to that. I mean how you used discarded technology and adapted it to such great effect. Many species would sooner do without than survive on the refuse of greater species."
"We are young and poor; we do what must be done."
"You may be correct on both accounts, yet that does not reduce the credit you are due for your resourcefulness." A short time later they were on a tram rocketing toward the world’s portal.
"I am surprised you are taking this as well as you are," Minu said finally after some time of silence.
"What makes you think I am taking it well?"
"You do not seem angry, you've made no attempt to escape or injure any of us."
"The law forbids this. You have acted within the law, I must do the same. While you are resourceful, humans have much to learn of the empire."
"What will be your people’s reaction to this loss?"
"We will consider the situation, plan a strategy, and enact a retribution as extreme as can be justified under the law."
Minu swallowed and tried to remain calm. Sitting next to a representative of an independent species, capable of waging war and having their own leaseholds on worlds, as he threatened your own species was an unnerving experience.
"I understand," she said simply.
"I hope that you do. You must realize that those weapons did not belong to us."
"I assumed they did."
"Do you believe we would be armed and equipped thusly if they were ours?" The Rasa gestured to his own equipment lying on the floor of the tram a few meters away. He was to be sent home with his gear, as was apparently the law. She'd already made certain the weapon was unloaded and powered down. Having seen it make short work of the tram like an ungodly chainsaw from hell, she had no interest in being the target of one again.
"No, I guess that doesn't make much sense after all." The tram came to a stop and they exited onto the platform. Closing their protective gear they climbed to the surface within view of the portal. A group of a dozen Chosen were moving the last of the containers through the portal onto the winter landscape of FAX544. Var'at studied the scene carefully, an action that wasn't lost on Minu. "So you were entrusted to deliver this equipment by their owners?" Var'at nodded his reptilian head. "Who would that be?"