Bellator: An Anthology of Warriors of Space & Magic

by A. L Butcher

  He approached the angry sal, despite Mat, Kepu, and Johnson all trying to keep him back. The sal hissed at him, and he figured whatever she just mumbled more than likely wasn’t something to repeat to his son back on Mars. The lieutenant tapped a pocket on his chest, and it emitted a video hologram, no larger than a basketball in size. It showed him playing with his son on the red planet; they were trying to see who could throw a rock the farthest.

  “This is my kid,” he said to the sal. “I want things to be normal between our people too. Do you understand, ma’am? I don’t want to be here anymore either, so I’m trying to get rid of anything keeping me from my family as fast as possible. I’m sure want that too, don’t you? That’s why I’m going to help you get your home back, okay?”

  He hoped the tone of his voice, the fierceness in his eyes, and the passionate gestures he coincided with his words would be enough for her to understand. Apparently it was. She stopped glaring at him, and her tail wasn’t as stiff as before.

  “Okay,” she mimicked.

  Russell smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. Fellas, let’s get to—”

  The sudden crackle of an enemy beam slowed everything down to three times its normal speed as Mat fell. Russell’s body switched to basic muscle memory as he tackled the nearest sal civilian into the ditch. Sound became nothing more than the barrage of enemy fire blasting in his ear. He checked himself first to see if he was hit. He’d been told the sudden rush adrenaline made people oblivious to such things. He was okay.

  The lieutenant then checked the whereabouts of the civilians, and then his own people. Kepu was down, stretched across the street. Mat had rolled himself into the adjacent ditch. Sal warriors were always picked out first; they were both the greatest and most vulnerable threat.

  Ambush. Where had they come from? How many were there? Was the platoon close enough to help? Are they even alive? Was this the day he’d die? He wanted to see his son. No, he had to see his son again. It was astounding what thoughts could pass through one’s mind in less than a second.

  “Incoming!” Johnson hollered.

  Russell shoved the nearest sal’s head into the ground. A high-pitched shriek rattled his ears as a large beam closed in. He just knew he’d be deaf after this. It struck ten meters north, but the shockwave still knocked everyone back.

  His body soared meters into the air until his left leg caught the trunk of a tree. He couldn’t hear his scream over the firing. When he hit the ground, instincts told him to get up and run, but training made him press his body against the ground as best he could.

  “Contact!” he shouted into his earpiece. “Enemy forces have us pinned. Multiple friendlies are down. Civvies in the area. Do you read?”

  “Copy that, LT!” Russell’s earpiece zeroed out the chaos around him so he could hear Lee on the other end. He sounded like he was screaming over enemy fire too. “We’re heavily surrounded by rebel forces. It’s like they came out of thin air!”

  The civvies apparently didn’t escape unnoticed, and the rebels went after them, hoping they could keep the people from making it to the joint base. The sal civilians more than likely would’ve made it too...had Russell not stopped them.

  He slapped himself in the face. No time to think about that – just try to keep yourself and everyone around you alive. He rolled onto his belly, and groaned. His left leg felt like it was on fire. He didn’t bother turning around to see how bad the fracture was, but crawled back to the ditch instead.

  Once he reached it, Russell saw three sals already weeping over two dead bodies. This wasn’t fair. He’d make them all pay, having the audacity to attack his people like this.

  “Mat, are you still alive out there?” He charged up his gauntlet as he crawled in front of the three sal, shielding what he could of them with his own body.

  “I’m still breathing, Ortega,” he heard the chief answer. “Just grazed the arm.”

  “Johnson, are you good?”

  “Just hoping to get eyes on something I can drop, sir.”

  Russell poked his head up to see if he could spot anyone else. “Can anyone grab Kepu and the others in the street?”

  “Negative. They’re too far out.”

  Russell held his breath when the firing stopped. He then heard sal gibberish out in the distance. Hearing the voice of a person out there, trying to kill him, was worse than the gunfire itself.

  “Any clue what they’re saying, Mat?”

  “No idea.”

  The lieutenant jolted when flying creatures took off into the sky. Something, or someone, had spooked them. “Trees! Hostiles are in the trees!”

  “Initiating counter measures,” Johnson said.

  Russell caught a speck of white light from Johnson’s position launch up. He covered his face, but the heat from the overhead blast still warmed his cheeks. He looked up, and the leaves at the top of the trees were nothing but ash. Sal bodies dropped out of them, thumping the ground each time one struck it.

  Russell nearly jumped out of his skin when Mat leaped across the road and landed beside him.

  “Now is your chance. They’re in disarray. I’ll hold them off.” Before Russell could object to the sal’s words, Mat took off like a rocket, on all fours.

  “Dammit! Johnson, I’m radioing in support.”

  “Copy that, sir. I got eyes on you. Any idea where the chief went?”

  “He’s buying us time we can’t afford to waste.” The lieutenant dialed Mat’s channel. “Matellizu, I’m bringing in some heat. Make sure you’re out of there when it comes.”

  “Understood.”

  Russell was about to tell the sal to be careful, not to be reckless or do anything to get himself killed, but made a quick prayer and dialed back to base instead.

  * * *

  Mat didn’t waste time finishing off the downed rebels that had fallen from the trees, snapping their necks with his hands or his tail. He didn’t slow down for an instant, even as more gunfire zipped by him.

  An unexpected hostile landed on top of him from the top of a tree, having been too high from Johnson’s grenade. The two tumble-rolled down a hill for ten meters before Mat bettered the assailant and launched him into the air.

  He then took off again, catching a surprised rebel hiding behind a tree off-guard and greeting him with a swung tail into the face. The blow knocked him into the base of a trunk.

  Mat charged his gauntlet and fired as he ran from the enemy now chasing him.

  “That’s it,” he said in his native tongue. “Come and get me!”

  The deeper he went into the forest, the further he knew the rebels were away from Russell and the civilians. He just needed to stay alive as long as possible.

  * * *

  Russell swore as Johnson helped him up.

  “Easy, sir.” Johnson slung the lieutenant’s left arm over his shoulder.

  “Get these people to safety. I’ll only slow you down, so don’t worry about me.”

  “Is that an order, boss?”

  “Of course it’s a damned order!”

  “Then I’ll respectfully have to ignore it. If we make it out alive, I’ll be thrilled to face any and all repercussions for not following it.”

  The remaining eight sals ran up to them, yammering and pointing ahead.

  Russell nodded and pointed with them. “Yes, there isn’t a lot of time. Get out of here, all right?”

  Neither he or Johnson expected two of the aliens to grab them and toss them onto their backs. The soldiers eyed one another, speechless. Getting onto a sal’s back, as if they were some domesticated animal, was one of the greatest offenses a human could do. Russell didn’t know if he was touched or shamed. He was supposed to be helping these people, not the other way around.

  Before anything else could be done, the sals darted off on their quads. Russell felt he might as well have been riding a living bicycle. He knew the people were by far faster than humans, but he had a new appreciation for the fact, given the new perspective. M
oving at such speeds whenever they wished, the sal were majestic.

  Enemy fire came their way moments later. The sal civvies yelped as they sped up, single-file, as if catching the drift of the person in front of them.

  Russell extended his arm with a gauntlet and returned fire in spurts. “Johnson, give us some cover.”

  “On it.” Johnson reactivated the tiny scout droids from before.

  They now glowed red, indicating they were in hostile mode. They locked onto the position of enemy forces and sprayed the areas with plasma beams. The firing stopped as the rebels dove for cover.

  “How much time do we have?” Johnson asked.

  “ETA was one minute. That was about forty seconds ago.” Russell got back onto the intercom. “Lee. You’ll have eight civvy sals coming down the road. Do not fire. Copy?”

  “Yes, sir! Area’s going to be hot, though.”

  “Understood. I have two birds coming in with a flyby. Bunker everyone down.” Russell switched the channel. “Mat. Where are you? Get your ass back over here, now! The forest if about to get cleaned. Do you copy?”

  There was no response.

  “Don’t ignore me, Chief Matellizu. Your position is a marked area. Evacuate the premises immediately. Do you copy?”

  “No promises.”

  “Not good enough, Mat. Get the hell out of there!”

  “More rebels are pressing through the forest. I’ll hold off as many as I can. Do your job. I’ll do mine.”

  “Now’s not the time to—”

  Mat closed the channel from his end. Russell struck the sal he was riding on the back, and quickly apologized. He looked behind him, hoping by some miracle he’d spot his friend dashing through the trees. His disappointment only grew when he didn’t see the dream fulfilled.

  The firing from the rebels and platoon was about twenty meters out when Russell had everyone stop. The sal he was on squatted down, as Johnson helped him off and aided him to the trench they spotted. It was deep, leaving two meters of head room, even for the sals. It was a good spot.

  “LT,” Lee said over the headpiece, “I hear birds coming in, but I don’t see you yet.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re not far from you, and already found some cover.”

  “Good to hear, sir. Did everyone make it?”

  Russell looked behind him again. “We lost Kepu, and Mat is offline. I can’t reach him.”

  A drawn-out silence came between them as the roar of two fighter jets neared, but Russell knew Lee heard what he said. It was always hard to respond to that news. Movies always made it seem so much easier. In reality, however, all Russell wanted to do was scream.

  “Here they come,” Johnson said as the jets came into view, moving at a casual mach 1. “Everybody down!”

  Russell buried his head and covered his eyes. Seconds after the jets’ sonic booms passed and shook the ground, a quick flash from the bombs they dropped lit the darkness. The enemy fire stopped as the rebel sals realized what was happening. He heard what he figured were frantic shrieks and orders to run away before two booms erupted.

  Russell rolled over onto his back and watched the debris crash into the rocks behind them. It mainly consisted of leaves and twigs. There was no need to worry about seeing bodies. Anything made of flesh and bone caught in the blast was now vaporized. Two strong gusts of wind followed the booms, and they faded away just about as fast as they had come.

  “Clear.” Russell brushed off the leaves that had fallen on him as he sat up.

  The civilians still kept their heads down. Russell patted the older sal female he had shown his son to.

  “You’re safe,” he said.

  The sal grabbed his hand and pressed her forehead into his palm. Johnson and another sal helped him to his feet.

  “Easy, boss. We’ll get you back to a medic.”

  “Friendlies coming in,” the two heard some voices yell.

  “Friendlies coming in,” they repeated, acknowledging the heads-up.

  Lee, three sals, and five other human soldiers came around the corner, weapons drawn. They lowered them when the others were in sight.

  “Sitrep,” Russell said.

  Lee took off his helmet and brushed back his black, buzzed hair. “They got us pretty good, sir. Three tanks down, and heavy casualties.” He pressed some switches on his gauntlet and waited as he stared. “I’m seeing thirty of us flatlined. I’ll have a list for you in two.”

  Russell thought of asking for Mat’s status specifically, but kept himself from doing it. No, he didn’t want to know for sure. Not just yet. He wouldn’t be able to function and do his job if it was…official. The three sals both eyed their gauntlets when they started to beep.

  “Large numbers of baddies heading our way,” one of them said. “They’re roughly seventeen klicks out, but moving in fast.”

  Russell couldn’t take it anymore. He activated Mat’s channel. “Mat, do you have eyes on a large enemy force heading our way?”

  No response, but he could just be ignoring him again. Russell forced a chuckle. “Come on, chief. Turn on the damned comm link.”

  There still was no answer. Johnson took off his helmet, as if giving his final regards.

  “Come in, Matellizu. Mat!”

  “Boss.” Johnson placed a hand on Russell’s chest and shook his head.

  The lieutenant looked across the forest in a panic. Nowhere. Mat was nowhere, and he couldn’t understand why. This was the instant meant for Mat to come through the forest, battle-worn but triumphant. He waited, even as Lee placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Lieutenant. We need to get these people somewhere safe, sir.”

  Russell then noticed the youngest sal trembling in what had to be her mother’s arms. She was hardly a teen, more than likely. Those large eyes of hers still took a quarter of the face, like a sal child, though she was close to the height of an adult. She probably wasn’t much older than his own boy. He appreciated how scared she was too. She understood what was happening around her, as every second Russell had them stand and wait was another second he’d bring her to the end of a short, abrupt life that had the potential of becoming so much more, had a man taken the time to toss away selfish desires, and leave his best friend behind.

  “Get everyone on our remaining rides and get us back to base, ASAP,” Russell ordered. “We’re falling back.”

  * * *

  5 hours later...

  Buchannan turned off the device recording Russell’s statements. “That will do, Lieutenant.” She placed a white ball the size of a marble onto the table. It flattened and formed a hologram of the road leading to the city Russell was supposed to direct the first batch of troops into.

  “We’re getting reports of rebel forces covering the entire terrain,” Buchannan said. “Had you stayed there, the platoon would’ve been wiped out for sure.”

  “Regardless, we cannot ignore the fact that two highly-regarded officers of our company were lost,” Chief Maelip objected. “This was done under your watch, Lieutenant Ortega.”

  Russell glanced at his captain. She was on the verge of saying something before Lord Mi raised his hand.

  “And we understand we’re exposing ourselves a great deal when coinciding with human forces,” Mi added. “It seems you took all necessary precautions to protect your people, as well as ours.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Russell said, “anyone fighting beside me is ‘my people,’ whether they’re human or not.”

  Some of the fierceness in Maelip’s eyes dwindled. He rocked his head from side to side, as if debating over wanting to believe if Russell meant what he said. He then looked at his own higher-up, nodding.

  “Then we will mourn over the losses together, and be thankful of the lives saved,” Mi said. “The civilians you brought with you are in your debt, as well as the platoon.”

  The captain pressed the ball, and the hologram went away. “We all slipped up big on the intel. Civilians haven’t been a part of collatera
l damage for ages, so this one is going to sting when everyone finds out.”

  A drawn-out pause came amongst the four. Losing so many innocent people due to their own mishaps was unheard of. Neither race had directions in their rule books concerning how one was to handle the ache in their chests. No, this was not possible. Only barbarians were capable of doing such things, thus they were all terrified of what this made them.

  “You made the best of the circumstances, Lieutenant,” Buchannan eventually stated. “That will do, for now. Can we agree on that, gentlemen?”

  The sals stood up, and Buchannan did the same. Russell scooted back his chair to show his respect, but Maelip held up a hand, indicating he could stay seated.

  “We are satisfied with this debrief, as much as we can be, Captain,” Mi said. “We’ll meet with you later as we prepare for countermeasures.”

  “Thank you, sirs. Looking forward to it.”

  Mi tapped his tail before he headed out the door. “Get that leg taken care of, Lieutenant Ortega. We can’t afford to have someone of your caliber bedside for long, understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Carry on.”

  The humans saluted the sals as they left the room. When the door closed behind them, Buchannan sat back down in front of Russell. “That could have gone worse, especially considering Mat was one of the people lost. He was a big timer in their council, so this news won’t be taken likely. Their tribes might want to put some pressure on us, since it was one of our people in charge, but hopefully Lord Mi will get them to back off some.”

  “You gotta love war and politics.” Russell pulled out the recorder he had of his son again. He felt the sensation of what was called “survivor’s guilt” coming over him. He’d get to call home and tell his boy how much he loved him. Mat’s family wouldn’t be so lucky.

  The captain grabbed her head as she leaned forward. “I’m still trying to wrap my head about all of those people too. Did Lee get you the final...tally?”