by Chris Hechtl
He fitted himself into the rubble, crouched behind a massive boulder and began the breathing exercises of liat’va, the cloak. He felt his skin prickle as chromatophores began to change the color and texture of his skin, matching the rock around him. He did his best to control his adrenal level, flushing the adrenalin out of his system and shutting down his circular system into liat’va ral. He even emptied a bag of local dust on himself for good measure.
The trio of hellcats crested the hill just as his breathing dropped to normal levels, but that was okay. He didn’t need full cloak; he wouldn’t be in that position for much longer. The first squad of mechanical beasts hesitated, then split into three pairs and each pair ran up a separate path. The predatory grin reappeared and he felt a glorious rush as he realized his cloak had worked. The hellcats had lost him over the last hill and had assumed he had traveled up one of the paths and out of sight before they had managed to crest the hill and reacquire him.
When the pair coming up his path came within range he let them pass, watching them on his passive seismic and radio detection. The first trio must have already reported the flat terrain behind the rocks and realized he hadn’t chosen that path. They must already be returning to the fork He assumed the second pair would come to the cul-de-sac soon and would turn back also. He waited until the hellcat pair on his path were fully past before chancing a peek. A slitted eye noted the two, with lichen dripping from their mechanical claws, both slowly stalking up the path.
He forced himself not to growl with delight, and then as he felt the first tingle of the other pairs coming up the path he quickly calculated he had two planetary minutes to destroy as many of these as he could before the heavy mechs came down and entered range. His toe claws clenched to get a good grip before he sprang.
In a sudden explosion of limbs, he unfurled and pounced, slamming the two into the ground as they began to turn to his threat. Claws ripped and shredded circuitry, but the two managed to strike. One of the creatures spun on its hindquarters to strike at him, and metal claws squealed off his frontal armor. The other had managed to spin one of its front legs and strike, ripping into one of his guns and ripping it apart. A quick squeeze of cyber-enhanced muscles and both spines were crushed.
He pulled his cybernetics backup to full, popping damage assessments up on his internal H.U.D. as he leapt away from the hellcat’s death throes and spun in the air. He lined his weapons up onto the first pair of hellcats and fired, taking one out in midleap. The second took a hit to the hindquarters and was thrown, spinning on the ground before it managed to get up and growl at him. He turned to gauge the latter two approaching as both of his forearm weapons pulsed fire into the wounded hellcat, slagging it.
He had delayed too long he realized; they were only two-eighths of a body length away! Raising his arms he pulsed one gun while the other two were recycling. The shot took the lead one in the head, blowing it off, and the creature took a few more tottering steps then crashed to the ground. The second made up enough ground to make a leap, and he leapt back to give himself room, lifting his tail to keep it from hitting anything. The creature bounded off the ground in a fast recovery and leapt again, curling its rear legs into an attack.
This time he moved in, reaching with armored claws to strike, roaring his defiance. His massive teeth crunched down on the skull; he felt claws rip at his chest armor and claws nicking his neck and ripping into his exposed biceps. With a roar he threw the creature, but it spun in midair to claw his wings. His right arm cannon pulsed ready and he fired, taking the creature in the side, and throwing it to the ground into a mangled heap of electronics.
He took stock for a moment, feeling his cybernetics deal with his wounds; he grimaced as he looked down to see the massive cuts in his chest armor. He grimaced again in pain as he felt the cuts on his biceps. He rapidly debated dressing the wounds but decided leaving a blood trail might have some advantages.
He pulsed out a follow-up status report to the base and then began to move, running on only his back legs with massive cyber-enhanced strides. His wings were kept tucked in tight to his back, and he felt his back itch with worry over the possibility of getting shot in the back. He ignored the thought and pulled up a map of this canyon. It was a maze of twists, turns and dead ends with high almost vertical sides. His cybernetics, however, plotted a course for him.
He rounded a turn and reached up and wiped ichor onto his talons, then reached down to swipe them onto a nearby bush. Another turn and another swipe. The path he had decided to follow had two more turns before he could get to the follow-up point at the “T” junction. He slowed as he rounded the next to last bend and tried to gauge his pursuers. The hellcats he had destroyed would be resurrected by the Spider mecha when they were found, but each carcass would make them pause. He made the final turn and bounded over the rocks and rubble up into the cave. He stepped behind a boulder and stopped. As he pulled in a deep breath, the smell of Zerinoth overwhelmed him, and he felt elation. Command had approved the plan and had followed through on it.
He reached into a pouch and pulled out the derafoam and patches. Gently, he sprayed it over his wounds, feeling the itching and searing pain as the foam closed the wounds. He roared his pain to goad the enemy into homing in on him. The local anesthetics built into the foam finally kicked in, and his skin numbed down to a dull pain.
He pulled his wings in and studied the cuts to his right wing. Ichor dripped from the rips, and some had already clotted and stained the lower tissue. He gently brushed the ichor aside, feeling the quiver of pain at each gentle touch. A subsonic growl made him look up quickly…he suppressed an urge to query the net to see what the spotter had seen. He quickly pulled the patch apart and slapped it onto the wound, feeling it bond to the skin and pull the ragged edges together. He'd have to remember to tuck that part of his skin away so it wouldn't be seen.
He reached into his pouch and took the last swig of water; he had saved it for just this moment. His talons pulsed as he flexed each, waiting impatiently for the end to come. Diagnostics scrolled across his screen, and he grimaced at the damage assessment. He would have to try to sniper them and stay out of melee combat.
The hellcats had made a wrong turn and were heading down the cul-de-sac. He sighed slightly and thought. He had to keep them separated, to make them come to him in waves. If he allowed them to delay searching the other cul-de-sac, it would allow the heavies to catch up and might expose the ambush. He looked down to his mangled weapon and detached it. With a casual toss, he threw it down and watched as it bounced off of several rocks before reaching the bottom of the ravine to explode as its self-destruct activated.
He felt another growl, this of both annoyance and humor. The growl subsided as the clicking of enemy claws on rock sounded on the path. He crouched down, no longer having the will or ability for liat’va. Silently he watched as the first of the sixteen machine beasts came into view. They paused to scan the cul-de-sac, first one, then all the rest taking in the blasted weapon, before ignoring it to scan the rocks. He raised his forearms and waited, gauging the timing.
With a blast of breath, he raised himself and shot the leading two, then dropped down into cover. The others would quickly triangulate his fire or use infrared to get his position so it was a race. His recharge timer climbed agonizingly slowly. He heard the hunting roar of the cats and sighed.
The guns were at half charge when he heard them begin to run to him. He jumped up again and keyed his overrides to fire, and his half-charged weapons pulsed plasma cutting two more down. He leapt to another rock, using his wings to glide, forcing the mecha to turn in their run, and buying him time to recharge.
Suddenly four of the mecha were flattened to the ground, and he grinned mentally as their cybernetics were shredded. The wraiths were good. He hadn’t seen them and still couldn’t detect them. His recharge counter got to half, and he overrode it again as he fired, wounding one and dropping another. An overheated warning appeared on his H.U.D. fla
shing his guns icon; he ignored it.
Four more hellcats dropped suddenly and savagely. The other five paused, and turned, gauging their fallen brethren. He couldn’t allow even their tiny cybernetic brains to recognize the danger. He overrode the danger warnings and shot, taking out the wounded one and wounding another. The remaining hellcats turned to flee, and he felt envy and satisfaction as the unseen wraiths ripped them apart.
Searing heat and pain pounded into his forearms. He watched as the still unseen wraiths shredded the hellcats and scattered their bodies, denying the following Spider mecha easily repairable reinforcements.
When the cul-de-sac was quiet once more, M’P’Roth stripped off the guns, feeling the searing heat in his palms, and carried them to a hidden cache. A growl of approval echoed through the canyon. Amused, he grunted in satisfaction at their approval and flipped over a rock and exposed the cache. Within was a small packet of gear, including a few ration bars, a spare gun, canteen, and a small medical pack. Grunting laughter echoed softly, and he turned.
His shoulders twitched his wings and biceps up into a shrug, and he gave a mental chuckle as a growl of disapproval at the noise cut the laughter off. M’P’Roth set the wasted guns down and pulled out the spare gun. He quickly snapped it into its place on his right arm then greedily snatched up the rations. He wolfed them down almost without chewing, and then washed them down with contents of the canteen. His skin itched; he felt eyes on him so he turned and covered the catch. He picked the guns and medicine up and carried them to his first rock. Settling himself behind the rock, he placed the guns in his lap and ran diagnostics on them.
Deciding on a plan of action, his hands flashed as he pulled each gun apart and began swapping components. Finally he finished and snapped the repaired weapon in place on his left forearm. He let the pieces of the guns drop to the ground and turned. He smelled another Zerinoth as the wind shifted and then felt a light feathery touch. Looking to the skin area where he had felt it, he noticed a pair of talons. His vision sharpened to look at what they appeared to hold, a microthin fiber optic cable. Grunting his thanks he took the end of the cable and plugged it into his cybernetics port.
A query greeted him, and he sent an updated report, copies of his sensory recordings of the encounters then waited. A second query more annoyed this time appeared. He felt embarrassment as he answered the query on his status by opening his diagnostics and allowing access. He felt disapproval as the alien feeling of an outside user queried his net, annoyance flashed through him before he managed to suppress it.
He began calling up the exercises of liat’va, falling into the natural breathing required. The talons retreated and cloaked. He sighed as he felt a pat on his unwounded shoulder and then the crunch of rock as the unseen wraith stepped away. He nodded and closed his eyes as his cybernetics flashed a low ichor warning, then tapped his stores and released fluids into his bloodstream. He reached over and picked up the med kit, and plugged in the blood container to his IV port. He immediately received approval over the net. He had tried to avoid using it; the coming battle might see someone in more need of it than him.
He queried the net to get orders and was both relieved and annoyed when command ordered him to expose himself then go into sniper/reserve mode. The first fire plan was sent to him, and he studied it carefully. He sent out a query to the net on the plan but felt the net override and the call EM dampening when a wraith reported the first Scorpions were coming into view.
The first mech and first pair of repaired hellcats rounded the bend and paused at the ground between the cul-de-sacs. The hellcats automatically scanned one path as the Scorpion scanned the other. A second mech trundled up and stopped before turning to scan. The hellcats split up and each began entering a cul-de-sac just as the first pair of tentacle bots flexed into formation. Strange creations, they bounced on long flexible legs. Each leg was tipped with a plasma cutter and was therefore a short-ranged secondary weapon.
The hellcat wasn’t a priority target; only the Scorpions had the range on him. He pulled up a tactical schematic and keyed his cybernetics to target the weak points of the oncoming Scorpion. He flashed his target selection and felt the flash of approval as targets were assigned to each of the others. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and then spun to expose himself.
The mech was quick, an electromagnetic round exploded rocks up the path as he triggered his guns. The mech took two hits on its joints and crumpled to one side but didn’t go down. Blinded and wounded, it fired again, and the boulder he hid behind was hit spraying chunks in all directions as he dove for cover. The boulder continued to shake as it was whittled away. He watched as the counters climbed on the recharge. The backup gun was recharging as normal, but the cannibalized weapon was taking much longer. He waited until he heard the second and third mech turn to attack his position. A flash from the net told him to stay down. He wished he could see this.
In the opposite valley, several giant rocks began to shift, and Zerinoth leapt from what appeared to be a pile into a loose formation. Within the pit they had covered and camouflaged with their own bodies, rose a Cyborg mecha. A second and third pit were exposed, and three Cyborg mecha and nine warriors went into rapid cybernetic boot up and then began to target and fire.
The Scorpions took the first critical hits before they recognized the threat, going down in shrapnel piles and exploding ammunition. The hellcats screamed and leapt and were grappled by the invisible wraith’s tractors and shredded by unseen claws. The Octobots turned and began to march on the exposed warriors and Cyborg mecha.
Lifting himself up out of hiding, M’P’Roth exposed his arms and targeted the enemy mecha with his guns. Two shots took out one leg of a tentacle mech, and it limped and turned to attack his position. A pair of scorpions entered the battle and one Cyborg Zerinoth warrior went down in a scream of rage and pain. A second warrior exploded into a fountain of ichor and gore when it was stuck by a grav beam from an Octobot.
The wounded Octobot continued to limp toward his position, firing its grav gun ripping apart the rocks. Suddenly the Octobot fell, each leg splaying out away from the body and twisting to rip and shred themselves. A wraith flashed into view briefly as she delivered the final blow, smashing the brain case.
A Scorpion swiveled its tail to strike at the exposed wraith, and she grunted in anguish as she took fire. Her left wing shredded under the fire of the electromagnetic guns. She shuddered and limped away.
M’P’Roth fired, trying to cover her, and managed to blow the tip of the tail away. The wounded wraith was yanked out of the fire zone by a second wraith, and then apparently covered up because she disappeared.
The Scorpion mech continued to search the area for the missing Zerinoth, scanning with its massive array in vain. Suddenly, it shifted its aim and launched a missile at M’P’Roth, who jumped out from behind his rock and dove to one side into a depression. The first rock exploded, shrapnel spinning off and raining down on him where he hid. A rock severed the micro fiber optic to the net, and he swore mentally.
After a few planetary minutes of smelling the burning stench of ozone and ichor, he craned his neck up slowly to expose one eye. The mech was wreckage, a Cyborg mecha had taken it from behind. M’P’Roth quickly scanned the growing battlefield. Two Octobots and Scorpions remained, but only five warriors, the three remaining wraith, and two Cyborg mecha remained to fight them. The Demon Mecha were concentrating on the opposite valley where most of the opposition lay.
Suddenly he smelled a Zerinoth close by, with the tang of ichor and scorched skin. He turned slowly; eyes slitted until he got the direction. The wraith warrior carried her injured companion over the rocks, and they dropped into his hole. The wounded wraith's phenomenal concentration wavered as her injury was struck, and he winced in sympathy as she mewed. The other wraith squirted an order over the tight band to help her and other injured. He nodded and began to assess her injuries as Commander Gra’pratha left.
She had
injuries on her flank, most likely sprawling from rocks chipped by near misses. Her left calf was broken, and her left wing from her tip to her sail root was shredded. She mewled piteously again, and he was surprised when she requested death. He ignored it and turned and began spraying the DermaFoam on her flank. The foam filled in the wounds, cleansing them and sealing them. He pulled a plate off his hip armor and formed it into a crude splint, wrapping it around her shattered calf after spraying it with DermaFoam.
A quick glance up and he noticed pieces of his broken gun; reaching up he managed to snag a piece of circuitry and ripped out the wires. He used this to wrap around the splint, soldering the ends to the splint to hold it in place. He turned to her wing. She had quieted. The pain must be excruciating, but she had managed to regain her composure as he worked.
He sent a brief reassurance to her through the net; letting her know that even if her epidermis scarred, she could still teach or scout for the race. A glance up to see how she was doing and he looked down again; she was studying him intently. He hand signed to remain still as he turned to her wing sail. A quick assessment, and he realized no patch would hold. He sprayed the ragged edges with foam, then gently folded the wing closed, then used a wrap of a bandage to pin it together.
Wraiths had less cybernetics then warriors; their discipline of liat’va ral thre allowed them to move while in cloak, but to keep the illusion as perfect as possible the wraiths wouldn’t tolerate any breaks in their skin. Most wraiths underwent surgery through the oral or anal cavities to insert cybernetics; some even received them while in gestation.
He detached his IV and plugged it into her IV port, amusement rippled through her and he realized he was wearing his attraction to her on his skin. He sighed and gave her a shrug. She nodded her head to the battle, and he raised his head. Two more warriors were down, but one Octobot had gone down with them.
He turned to her and fished out a short fiber optic cable and handed her one end. He plugged his end in and watched as she did the same. He opened his firewall and let her tap his senses. She stilled beside him as she took in the carnage. The fight was fierce. The Scorpions had taken partial cover, and the last Octobot was damaged but still in the fight. It reared up on its hind legs and used its lower laser, cutting another warrior apart. Both M’P’Roth and the wounded wraith winced.