Hybrid

by Greg Ballan

  The creatures entered the clearing and spotted their shiny enemies simply standing at attention, acting as if they had no care in the world. The feline beasts and their riders galloped swiftly across the half-mile that separated them from their prey. The soldiers followed behind their front troops, closing the gap between both forces.

  When there were only a hundred yards between the two armies, the lead Esper raised his hand. There was no time to react or wonder what the gesture meant. In less than three seconds, ten of the twelve Seelak warrior pairs of mutants were vaporized, consumed inside bright balls of fiery plasma. The shrieks of pain were beyond anything either side could bear, as, piece-by-piece, the creatures' bodies were boiled and withered away. The other pairs vanished in a Netherspace portal, and re-emerged behind the Seelak army.

  Ten more fiery bursts engulfed several hundred Seelak soldiers, consuming them entirely. The Seelak formed a defensive circle in the middle of the field, waiting for further onslaught. As was planned earlier, the Esper forces emerged from the forests, and hemmed their enemies in preventing any possible escape, save for Netherspace.

  "We have been tricked," a remaining Seelak soldier cursed looking at their leader as they watched the remaining Esper population swarm onto the battlefield.

  "Treachery from those honor-bound Espers? I can't believe it!" The Seelak Commander saw his army's easy victory routed into an inevitable bloody conflict in mere seconds. "Our foe learns fast, consenting to use our old weapons to gain an advantage, as we planned to use our creatures. We have only two sets of creatures remaining, and many of our soldiers have been crushed, fried into non-existence," the commander observed. "Let's close with their forces. They won't fire and risk hitting their own people. Perhaps we can salvage a victory yet."

  * * *

  The battle was savage. The Esper soldiers clashed with the Seelak forces, staffs and blades whirred in streaks. The cries of the dying and wounded soon accompanied various battle shouts.

  Jakor spotted a pair of mutant creatures decimating a group of untrained Esper philosophers, tearing them apart. He fought his way over to the group, and smashed his staff down against the feline creature's hind flank. The beast howled in pain and rage as it quickly spun around. It struck at the Esper warrior with titanic forepaws. Jakor stepped back, allowing the blow to whisk by him. He counter-attacked savagely, his staff a blur of motion. Both creatures were forced to withdraw from his furious assault. Each had suffered dreadful injury from his Sentient Staff.

  The large cat leapt again, launching itself like a twenty-foot missile directly at Jakor. Jakor ducked to avoid the beast, but the creature reacted, raking its massive claws along his back as it sailed over the Esper warrior. The blood flowed freely from the deep gashes on his back, but he ignored the burning pain. The enhanced Seelak jumped off the feline's back and produced a black fighting saber from seemingly nowhere.

  The cat backed away, sitting on its haunches. The Seelak gestured for Jakor to approach. He raised his staff and willingly obliged. The two combatants circled each other, testing each other's strength and skill with cautious strikes, neither one over-extending themselves.

  Jakor swung his staff in a wide semi-circle designed to bring the end of his staff flush against the Seelak's side. The Seelak guessed his maneuver, and adjusted its guard accordingly. Both weapons met with a huge impact, sending showers of sparks over both combatants. Jakor recovered from the jarring impact and drove the butt of his staff into the Seelak's midsection before it could recover its guard. The creature folded over, but came up swinging the mighty sword in dangerous arcs that were designed to slice the Esper in two. Every time the weapons collided, more hot sparks flew from the alien metals.

  Jakor changed his strategy, and willed his staff into something else. One end of the weapon formed itself into a large hook-billed blade, while the other end increased in thickness and density, providing stability and balance for the new weapon form. He swung the heavier weapon at his foe. The added weight forced the Seelak blade down again and again, doing what the lighter staff could not.

  The Seelak tried to adapt to this new form of combat, but was unable to cope with the change. Its saber had small chips and burrs upon its once-sharp edge. It still swung the damaged blade, aiming for Jakor's head. It increased the ferocity of its attacks until Jakor was reluctantly forced back, step by step. The enhanced Seelak swung a massive overhead blow at the Esper, fully prepared for the impact of the two weapons. Jakor didn't block this blow, however. He expertly rolled to one side, avoiding the blow altogether. The force and momentum of the Seelak warrior's blow carried it forward, completely off balance. Jakor slammed the edge of his modified Sentient Staff upon the Seelak's armored back. The edged portion of the staff bit through the armored hide with a sickening crunch. The creature staggered, up-righting itself. It was bleeding profusely from the gaping wound, spilling blue ichor onto the green grass.

  The Seelak charged again, and Jakor easily avoided the attack. The Seelak's intention, however, was not to attack, but to escape. It landed on the back of the large felinoid.

  A sudden cloud of inky black surrounded the two creatures. They were preparing to escape into Netherspace. Jakor knew that if they teleported, they would most likely leave the area, and be a nuisance throughout their genetically enhanced lives, and would no doubt plague the race of simians that had evolved on this world.

  He reached inside his tunic and produced a stun grenade. He had carried it with him for centuries, never knowing if the weapon still had potency. Jakor flipped the activator, and heard the whining chirp as its energy core built to a critical mass. He threw the grenade into the portal as it closed around the two beasts. He heard the sound of an explosion, and felt a mild concussion. He surmised that most of the force of the detonation was contained in the region of Netherspace. The portal was effectively destroyed, and normal space quickly filled in the void caused by the vanishing blackness. Both creatures lay in a twisted heap on the corpse-littered battlefield. That was the last of his surprise munitions. The rest of the battle was strictly hand-to-hand combat.

  Jakor joined the other soldiers and clansmen, fighting, at times savagely, to defend the planet's new dominant species. After three hours of non-stop combat, the last of the Seelak warriors fell. The remaining Seelak reluctantly surrendered and were herded roughly into a makeshift prison camp. The two creatures that Jakor had incapacitated were locked inside the now abandoned and partially gutted Mothership, other warriors had brought down the other pair. The metal of that ship's hull could not be penetrated, and Netherspace portals would not function within the confines of the ship's interior.

  The final battle for Earth had cost the Espers nearly all of their remaining population. A scant four hundred Espers survived the final conflict, while only slightly over fifty Seelak survived the hostilities. None of the Seelak soldiers survived. Jakor lost all but twenty of his soldiers. There were sparse few of each remaining Esper clan, and most of those that had survived the battle had suffered some type of injury. Even Jakor, with all his enhanced might, had sustained several deep lacerations that needed treatment.

  The Esper warrior looked over at the battlefield and gaped at the endless sea of bodies that expired in this futile confrontation. "Such a great waste," he muttered to himself. "If only they had listened. If we had combined our talents, we could have survived, somehow. Why does it always have to end in violence with our two species? We built an entire Worldship together, a marvel of technology to take us hundreds of light years to this new home. Only by working together did we accomplish this, why must it always end in blood!" he shouted into the air angrily.

  "Because there was no other way," a voice from behind answered.

  Jakor spun around quickly and stood facing a Seelak captive being escorted by two guards. It was the scientist he had met with prior to the final battle. The elder Seelak had many cracks in its shell, and was oozing blue ichor from several wounds.

  "Why is t
here no other way?"

  "Because you wish to preserve the apes, and we wish to exterminate them. If we were to go along with your plan, we would be condemning ourselves to eventual extinction. That is not our way. To die in battle or die for a belief is far better. We believe we're right and you're wrong. Your way will get everyone killed. That is why we fight," the Seelak answered bluntly. "It is that simple, no cosmic mystery to unravel, soldier, an answer simple enough for even your limited intellect to comprehend. We fight to survive. But you have prevailed, we are all doomed," it added bitterly.

  "There are always alternatives to bloodshed," Jakor replied, surprised at the blunt openness of the captive. "We had accomplished much working together. Together we could have found a way to co-exist on this planet with its native species."

  "No, my warrior friend," the Seelak said sadly. "Your scientists have confirmed what we knew all along: This world is killing us, both our species, as we are killing the species of this world. There is no answer, only eventual death. We sought to prolong our existence by depopulating this planet. There was a moderate chance of success, but I'll tell you now, between victors and vanquished, I did not think we could succeed. But speaking out against our ruling caste would have caused my instant execution. I am not so foolish as to not value what little time I have left in my life."

  "I'm afraid this battle has sealed both of our fates," Jakor remarked, looking over at the field littered with corpses from both sides. "There are too few of us now to accomplish anything. We are all injured to some extent. Many of our Scientific and Medical were slaughtered. This pointless battle has condemned both our races."

  "If it means anything, warrior, I am sorry that it came to this end. I did enjoy my time among your people before the war, but one must do as is commanded in our civilization, whether it be deemed right or wrong."

  "I, too, am sorry. I cannot say for certain what will happen to your people now," he added somberly.

  "Our fate is now in your hands, warrior," the Seelak said. "You will decide if we live or die."

  "No," Jakor disagreed, "not my fate, the fate of the Council, or what's left of it. I have no authority in those decisions. My function has been served. I have done my duty."

  Jakor motioned the guards to take the prisoner to where the others of its kind were being held. The Council was even now debating the Seelak's fate. He would carry out their orders, and then they would decide how to survive the post battle. Jakor knew, as did the Seelak, that even in the midst of their war, they could only have minor skirmishes, with only the Warrior clans taking part. A full-scale confrontation would depopulate both warring factions due to their small numbers. They had proved that hypothesis today; evidence enough lay on the battlefield. Jakor took one last look at his fallen comrades, and enemies, and turned toward their encampment.

  * * *

  "They must be appropriately punished for their actions," a Council member stated.

  "What point is there in punishment?" another challenged. "They are no more, and we are no more. Punishment is futile at this point."

  The Council had been debating for nearly three cycles to decide the fate of the forty remaining Seelak survivors. The last of their beasts had recovered, and were being held captive within the massive hull of the incapacitated Worldship. Jakor sat in his customary location, sadly looking at the empty seat that was once occupied by his departed friend, and the nearly vacant hall.

  He quickly noted that more Espers had died from wounds received in battle over the last few hours before this meeting. There were scarcely two hundred Espers in a hall meant to hold almost ten thousand, and those in attendance were far from perfectly healthy.

  "Enough," the Elder Councilor spoke as he raised his slim silvery hand. "I have heard enough debate. Any more discussion is pointless." He began addressing the small crowd. "The Seelak shall be punished for bringing us to this end. Whether history deems us petty or wise for inflicting punishment is irrelevant, because we will pass, history will never know of our existence. The beasts that the Seelak created were engineered to feed off emotion. I gather the Seelak have emotions, though granted not as strong or prevalent as ours. Let those who remain share confinement with the monstrosities they created. Let them be the source of food for their own creations. The beasts will never be able to be fully satiated by them and will never fully recover, and they will be tormented by the beasts as long as they continue to live. We will entomb them in the hull of our Worldship. It will serve as their final prison and burial place for all eternity," he said in a ringing tone.

  There was absolute silence throughout the chamber as the remaining Espers struggled with the horrible fate that the Council had prescribed for their enemy.

  "Is that not excessive, Elder?" Jakor asked.

  "What is the appropriate punishment for homicide, genocide, and the attempted destruction of an entire ecosystem, soldier?" the Elder countered.

  "Surely, you are aware of Seelak society. Most fought unwillingly and were forced to follow orders or be eliminated. We have no soldiers or military minds in these survivors. They are a few working-class drones and some crippled scientists."

  "Scientists who created genetic monstrosities to destroy us, Jakor," the Elder replied forcefully.

  Jakor arose to his impressive height, his hand instinctively reaching to his staff. "I cannot allow this."

  "You would dispute the Council which has ruled our world for over half a million cycles, warrior?" the Elder asked in a soft yet powerful voice.

  The tension in the chamber was palpable. Several soldiers stood from their positions, looking to Jakor, ready to follow their leader's example. The fact that the other warriors seemed prepared to follow Jakor didn't go unnoticed.

  The mightiest of all Esper warriors was silent. However, his body assumed an aggressive posture, and there were several gasps when he activated his Sentient Staff.

  "Jakor?" the Elder whispered, his eyes never veering from the exposed weapon. "You have brought us this great victory. You saved this planet. Would you tarnish that by now rebelling against us? Would you now turn on your own people, your own culture? You would raise a weapon against your own kind?"

  Jakor stared into the Elder's eyes, the warrior's own blue eyes burning like two hot young suns. The Sentient Staff deactivated. "No, Elder, I will abide by your words out of respect for this body, not because I approve of them." He placed the weapon back in its pouch.

  "As you wish," the Elder answered, visibly relieved his authority would not be challenged. "The Seelak will be punished, those are the words of the Council. Are there any other objections?"

  No others objected.

  "Then, carry out the will of this governing body, for there are still more hard decisions to make."

  Jakor bowed and departed with the other remaining warriors. He did not agree with the Elder Council, but it was not his place to argue. He understood the Council's anger and understood the crimes of which the Seelak were guilty, but to be entombed alive, as food for some laboratory creations, made him shudder. He silently wished that the grenade had had sufficient force to destroy the two creatures they captured. He knew that if Sennek were alive, he too would disapprove of the course of action being taken.

  The warriors escorted their captives toward the towering structure that was the Worldship. The craft was almost completely buried into the side of a large mountain. Only a small portion of its gigantic hull protruded. The captives were silent, yet hesitant, as they were forced up the ramp leading into the access bulkhead.

  As they approached the entrance to the ship, the captives spotted the creatures being forced back, deeper into the ship, by five soldiers armed with Sentient Staffs. It was then the Seelak realized their fate. Widespread fear and panic overtook the small band of forty battered Seelak. Jakor and his warriors were hard-pressed to drive the reluctant prey into the bulkhead opening. He heard shrieks and several pleadings for mercy from their captives. Normally, he was immune to such things,
but this time his entire being was wracked with pity as he personally drove several Seelak forcefully into the ship.

  Only one Seelak went without hesitation, the one that Jakor had spoken with earlier. He had accepted his fate and walked into his doom with no trace of fear or reluctance. He turned toward Jakor and bowed slightly, then entered his final confinement.

  He suddenly turned and looked up at his captor. "Can I know your name?"

  "I am Jakor."

  "I am Keelal."

  "Keelal, this is not my wish. Now it is my turn to be sorry. This act shames me," Jakor confessed.

  "Then we both carry the shame for the hideous acts committed by our races, warrior. Fret not, I'll lay no blame to you if you will lay no blame to me for these horrid acts committed by forces outside our control," the Seelak whispered. "It will be our little secret."

  Jakor grinned. "Our secret then," he agreed sadly.

  "Live well, Esper." Keelal turned and entered his first moment of imprisonment.

  "We shall not, Seelak, for we are both doomed races," Jakor whispered.

  The five soldiers retreated from the inside of the ship and closed the massive metallic door behind them. Jakor locked eyes on the seven-foot enhanced Seelak as it picked up its first victim. It gave Jakor a look of pure ice water, as if saying with its eyes, "This is not over. We will meet again." The door sealed and locked with a doom-filled clang.

  "Place the warning markers," Jakor ordered.

  Several Espers rolled a large chamber in front of the door and magnetically fused the chamber into place. The pillars on either side of the chamber were marked with both Esper and Seelak, as well as other mathematical symbols they had hoped future races, including the primitive species already inhabiting this world, would be able to identify. It was a clear warning not to disturb this chamber. Jakor watched with reluctant satisfaction as the final work was done to the warning markers.