by Ma West
The action alerted Aramethel, who now repeatedly banged his leg against Patient 00’s. The two worked in disharmony, nearly dropping the device as they tilted and twirled through the air as if they were a trophy being hoisted by a drunk after winning a sporting event. With a little luck and patience, the device—nothing more than a small rectangular box the size of a mini iPad—fell onto Aramethel’s thigh, and he was able to scoop it up and hold it between his forearms.
They had reached their destination. A large arena circled a massive pit filled with debris and vegetation. The area was largely free of other life-forms. A small, fuzzy creature rolled past, obviously more interested in its destination than the current situation.
The arena wall rose dozens of feet into the air. One large entryway lay at the far end, with its door currently down. Comparable to the size of a football field, the arena had a dirt floor with living vegetation scattered about. Several fallen trees dotted the center.
The Xendorian spoke to his captures without really addressing them. “The circle of heroes. Many noble deeds have been done in this arena, not by your species of course. I was here when Ramsheshian of Huban single-handedly captured a female warrior. I was here when the commodore defeated General Martisian. And I, too, one day will have my glorious day of battle. Now, for today, it will simply be your grave. I request that you do try to survive long enough for me to sit down. Most won’t make it more than a few minutes. Do try to impress me.”
The Xendorian pulled the three apart, allowing Patient 00 to fall to the ground. Logging and Aramethel were then placed over the wall and dropped into the arena. Aramethel ably landed and caught Logging as he neared the ground. Aramethel put Logging on the ground, sighed deeply, and watched as the arena door opened and pure terror walked out.
There was no scream, no wincing in agony or pain. The Xendorian, one arm now rendered useless by injury, regained a defensive position. Aragmell circled and moved like a boxer, also limited by injury. There were no wasted movements. The combatants struck purposefully and powerfully.
Sparks showered like fountains on the Chinese New Year as the two smashed weapons in mortal combat. The great beast Aragmell’s breast rose and fell like mountains to trenches, and back again. The Xendorian’s skin lifted in little flaps as its body rushed to cool the heating reptile.
It was fatigue, like a fighter who waits for the safety of the bell and discovers that no such bell will arrive. Aragmell, in desperation, lunged out with a last striking blow. The Xendorian leaped forward, striking down hard on the beast below. Aragmell howled in pain and dropped to the floor.
The Xendorian paused, kneeling for several seconds. Aragmell lay motionless except for his laboring breast, rising and falling. The victorious Xendorian stood over his opponent, sparked his spear, and raised it in preparation.
The baroness’s guardians had failed, and she now had to do something about it. “Stop, spare him and I shall surrender to you. If you take his life, I shall attempt to avenge him, and if I fail in that task, I shall destroy myself.”
The Xendorian placed his foot directly on the back of Aragmell’s head, lowered his weapon, and stared at the baroness. “You humans are easy to underestimate. I make no assurance what the commodore will decide. Only that he will live till that point.” The alien jolted Aragmell’s body until it lay nearly motionless, and then he pointed his spear directly at the baroness. “Now surrender yourself.”
Chapter 15
Warrior See, Warrior Do
There he stood, hopeless to help, battered to submission, and concussed to confusion. Patient 00 could only hold his breath as what the Xendorian referred to as a warrior slowly entered the arena. Ducking through the entrance, the warrior stood high, nearly a story and a half. With two distinct sections, the creature had insect characteristics. The lower half was the size of a long room and rose eight feet off the ground. Six spiked legs scuttled about as it searched for nourishment. Two longer limbs extended horizontally on the upper section. The limbs looked fearsome, with sharp chainsaw-like knobs running down the bottom half. Smaller graspers lined the end of the limbs, and the tops appeared to have a natural armor plate.
Logging had taken cover behind a larger rock and was feverishly digging. Aramethel, his hands still bound in front, took small, patient steps, limiting his upper body movement as he moved in the direction of a vegetation patch nearly thirty feet away. The tactics seemed to at least bide some time as the warrior took a moment to groom itself. Long mantis-like limbs scraped over the warrior’s back as it performed some instinctual ritual of pre-conscious grooming that ended with a shaking that sent spiky skin flakes out in all directions.
The Xendorian sighed. “Must not be hungry yet. Not to worry, it will only take the scent of live flesh to ignite its unquenchable appetite.”
Finding it difficult to gather his thoughts, Patient 00 focused on a detail, searching for clarity. “How did one man defeat such a beast?”
The Xendorian’s sounds vibrated through Patient 00’s head, intensifying the pounding and forcing him to close his eyes.
“Not a man, a Xendorian—a Xendorian guardian. Revered for his cunning strength of mettle and leadership, Ramsheshian was a living god. To be compared to something as pitiful as you, man, is a grave insult. A single warrior could wipe out your entire population. I hope the commodore won’t be too merciful in deciding your fate. “
“Mercy is not for those who decide the fate of others.”
The Xendorian appeared as if he was going to respond but instead turned his attention toward his wrist communicator, which now displayed a blinking button. “Soldier at the ready, team leader.”
“I have captured the objective and her companions. The commodore and I are en route to your location. See if you can save the festivities for our arrival.”
“Yes, team leader!” The Xendorian gave a salute, and once the communication was cut, he sighed and accessed his wrist communicator. “Well, human, since we have the time, let me enlighten you on just how superior a species we are to you. Our race, in the span of only three generations, has gone from first space flight to controlling an empire of thousands of worlds spanning hundreds of thousands of lights years. We have conquered so many worlds that each Xendorian citizen is entitled to their own city. Your race is so inferiorly developed that you still fight each other over things that could be acquired elsewhere. Your culture devotes the majority of its resources to the old and neglects the development of its young. You claim monogamy but practice polygamy.” The Xendorian soldier leaned in close to Patient 00 and spoke with the hatred of a killer. “Your kind disgusts me.”
After a short pause, the soldier looked down into the arena, where Logging had dug himself a shelter underneath a large boulder and Aramethel was frantically fiddling with his hands while taking cover behind a large shrub of vegetation. “Every Xendorian child is fully developed to reach their maximum potential, in whatever field that might be. Our state exists to develop, support, and organize its citizens. Your species operates in chaos.”
Patient 00 responded only to the last line, as that was as far as his concentration would allow. “Chaos is the sound of freedom.”
“Philosophical points only count when you have the means to enforce them.” The Xendorian soldier again manipulated his wrist communicator. However, this time, Patient 00 noticed that he was changing the vegetation arrangements so as to keep the alien warrior on the far side of the arena. “Human, do not take the inferiority personally. We have conquered many species much more advanced technologically, evolutionarily, and telepathically than our own, so a pathetic race like yours is nothing more than practice.”
Just when the pounding of the Xendorian’s bantering had passed through, Patient 00 heard the sound of changing pressures that accompanied the opening of a huge door. He turned his head and felt his heart sink as the baroness, now in restraints, followed behind her limping guardian and her sighted doctor leading her injured companion.
> A familiar voice rang out from the far side of the room. “Very well done, team leader, I do believe we have made it in time for the show. Now we shall add to the pot.” The commodore’s voice felt lighthearted and relaxed. He approached the new arrivals and looked them over as a master would his hound dog who brought in a fresh kill.
Then the commodore faced Aragmell and smiled. “No, it couldn’t be. Team lead, have you any idea whom you have captured? This here Annomite is the once-great-and-powerful Aragmell—defender of Atone, sole survivor of the battle of Midus, most fearsome of the beasts. Look now, how the mighty have fallen to this pitiful excuse for a guardian.” The commodore grabbed Aragmell as a dog would its pup. “You deserve a noble death, but being eaten alive will have to do.” Grasping with two hands, the commodore flung the beast deep into the heart of the arena.
The commodore stopped at the doctors and activated his wrist communicator. “Science lead, I have acquired the primary objectives alive. Update the objective status of the human caretakers.” There was a momentary pause. Then, after a sound pinged from his wrist, the commodore grabbed the two doctors and threw them into the arena, where they landed with a loud crash and a big dust ball.
The baroness screamed as her eyes now focused on the large, carnivorous alien warrior whose full attention was now on the doctors’ landing spot. The large alien warrior was slowed significantly, as it had to clear vegetation while it worked its way directly toward the doctors. The baroness squirmed and wiggled but failed to get even the slightest release from her restraints.
The Xendorian known as the team lead picked up the baroness and placed her on the opposite side of Patient 00, leaving the lowest-ranking Xendorian in between. The team leader and the commodore took seats and activated their wrist devices to see additional viewpoints of the arena.
The commodore’s first view was of Aragmell. The beast had landed without any noticeable new injuries and appeared to be taking shelter in a hollowed-out tree. “Bridge, relay image throughout fleet and to ground forces, over under will be set at ninety seconds, and event will commence in one minute. Soldier, how many you take to be alive at the mark?”
The Xendorian standing along the arena wall and guarding his human captures glanced back. “These pitiful creatures? Zero, Commodore, zero.”
“And what say you, team leader. How does the captor view its prey?”
“The over, Commodore, the over” was all the team leader said, till the commodore gave the look of an annoyed drunk. “Tell you what, Commodore, I want to make it really interesting and take the prey to win.”
A loud hiss rolled out of the commodore as his body vibrated. “My oh my, soldier, did you hear that? Team leader is smarting a bit from his wounds, or he has great faith in the gods of greed. Either way, we are going to have a good time.” Then the commodore activated his wrist device and lowered the vegetation hedge, and a display scrolled through symbols.
The baroness tried to get his attention, but with his twitching and blank stare, she decided to come up with another tactic. For the immediate moment, she watched as her new friends scurried and fled for their lives. The creature was, except in scale, something more earthlike than the rest of the creatures she had so far encountered. The speed of the warrior was impressive as it made a beeline for the doctors. Her pulse quickened, her eyes scavenged, and her brain twisted, but the baroness was at a loss for how to help.
As loyal a mate as ever, Dr. Fengie bravely hid behind her blind husband, one unable to see and the other unwilling. “At least she will go down with her man, even if she can’t bear to watch it.” Yet like an angel, Aramethel, in full stride, knocked them several yards as he blasted into them, clearing them of the warrior’s limb as it crashed down directly where the doctors had been standing.
The doctors took no time in fleeing, but Aramethel, with his front hands still bound, was slower and ended up in the grasps of the second limb.
The baroness felt more helpless than ever, desperate to help creatures whose actual existence she still questioned. So she pursued a course of action she hadn’t anticipated: she turned to prayer. Yet as soon as her prayers were answered, she shifted back to old thoughts.
A boulder the size of a football smacked the alien warrior against the side of its head. The warrior turned its head and hissed but only paused as it brought the young Aramethel closer to its mouth. But Aramethel didn’t let his youth deter his will to live or lose his cool, and using the alien’s pause, he now opened the box Patient 00 had given him earlier.
The image of a nude, female Annomite appeared and began dancing above the device. Surprised by the abrupt arrival of a new enemy, the warrior threw Aramethel as it lifted up its giant mantle and attempted to strike the 3-D display. Several slashes went through the hollow image before it hit the ground, bouncing the device high into the air before it landed upside down, canceling the image.
Aragmell bent close to Logging’s hole for several seconds before grabbing the large boulder and hurling it at the charging warrior insect.
A buzzer sounded, and the Xendorian soldier flinched its body as if to show frustration. The commodore called out in laughter. “Zero at ninety seconds. Well, team lead, looks like you still have something to play for. All right, soldier, who do you take to be last prey alive?”
The Xendorian surveyed the arena before answering. “Commodore, I’ll take the digger.”
“Team lead, what say you? Still have faith in your captures?”
“The greater their prowess, the greater my capture becomes. I believe both the Annomites and the digger survive.”
The commodore chuckled again. “I shall have to include you the next time I play games of chance. The wife has been asking for a new ship.”
The baroness had never much liked sports, and now that she was watching alien overlords play them with her friends’ lives, she was furious and desperate. As the gambler prays for a miracle and celebrates its arrival with sin, so did the baroness as she watched the fate of her friends.
The two Annomites worked in a well-coordinated effort as mentor and apprentice. One would flee as prey while the other rested and worked to free themselves of their restraints. Aramethel was the first to get his restraints off. Skipping in great leaps to the left and right as he fled, the young Annomite slid feetfirst, holding out his arms. The warrior’s limb crashed down in a plume of dirt as it attempted to spear its fleeing prey. Aramethel burst out from the dust cloud and ran directly under the beast.
Aragmell leaped off a nearby shrub and landed on the back of the creature. The giant bug flung its torso back like a horse, but despite the restraints, he was able to hang on. The distraction provided an opportunity for Aramethel, who was now attached to the underside of the lower torso. The alien bug jumped, wriggled, and squirmed in an attempt to dislodge its prey.
Aramethel grabbed a rock off the ground and pounded a hole in the bug’s mandible. Green pus poured out of the wound and covered the young Annomite in a stinky mess.
Aragmell diligently worked his way higher and higher up the insect. As he reached the top, he was able to take some control of the warrior as he manipulated the tentacles and organs that came out of the insect’s head. It was slow and imprecise, but as the bug approached a section of the wall closer to the spectators, the ground beneath the bug collapsed, and it fell several feet into a pit.
“Oh ho ho, team leader is looking mightier and mightier. I must say, I didn’t expect the beast to come even this close to matching his reputation.” The commodore spoke with more joy in his voice than the baroness had expected, considering the circumstances. “This should prove entertaining now that they have enraged the warrior. No longer will it simply hunt its prey. With its injury, it’s not a hunt—it’s a battle for survival.”
The baroness’s relief didn’t last long. Just when she thought they might finally catch a break, the reality burst her bubble. The alien warrior let out a screech of anger and pain, and physically changed color, now
glowing red. Large plates lifted off the top of its mandible and extended into large wings. With three sweeping flutters, the warrior broke free from its pit. One of the wings spread out wide, and with a loud whoosh, the warrior spun, slashing and trimming everything in the near vicinity. The great beasts Aragmell and Aramethel couldn’t be located, while one of the Xendorian televiewers showed the two doctors hiding under deep vegetation.
The wind from the warrior’s flight pushed hard against the baroness. As she now glanced at Patient 00, she saw him looking back at her, no longer with the blank stare. And that made her stomach knot, as she now saw the same look in his eyes that he had right before their rooftop exit.
Venom spewed out from the warrior, and with a sizzle, the vegetation crumpled away. In a matter of seconds, the ground lay bare dozens of meters around the warrior. The warrior’s spinning stopped, and with rage, it ravaged thought the vegetation, hunting for its enemies.
The commodore and his fellows engaged in banter and hollered like drunks in Vegas, but she couldn’t listen, she couldn’t watch her friends die, and she couldn’t look at him. She was powerless to help, powerless to intervene, powerless to do. He, however, wasn’t powerless to do, and she knew it would cost her. She cursed the Lord for giving him the power she didn’t have.
Then she resigned herself to whatever fate would come from Patient 00’s leadership. The baroness looked him in the eye, and as he reached out his hand, she brushed it with hers. Patient 00 grabbed firmly onto the baroness’s wrist, wrapped his other arm around the Xendorian guard, and pulled them all over the side.
Chapter 16
To Make One’s Bed
There was a mute roar as the commodore’s brain registered what he had just witnessed. His physical body raised and his heart sank before he regained enough control to issue orders. “Team lead, protect the objective and secure her exit. I will engage the warrior. All Xendorians to warrior control stations, activate escape gates and containment net.” Then the commodore hurled himself into the arena.
