First Assault

by Kliment Dukovski

duck and aim his pistol at the general direction where he thought he saw movement, though nothing moved now. He looked over his shoulder. Ray’s arm was nearly out of its socket. He managed to drag himself behind cover of ruined concrete wall. There he sat up, back leaning against the concrete and took out his pistol.

  “Five of them,” he said. “I can sense them, but … there is something different–”

  Barrage of bullets slammed the wall, turning chunks of concrete over his head into rain of dust. Ray ducked down.

  Ailios peered through a hole on the wall when he heard pebbles crunching under someone’s feet. One of the abominations was walking toward them. Ailios put his beam pistol in the hole and fired few shots. He peered again to see if his attempt of killing the abomination had any success. However, the metal-clad creature walked with greater determination toward them.

  “Any ideas?” Ailios called out to Ray.

  Ray moved his body to the side and fired few shots before retreating back behind cover. “A few bombs might work,” he said. He clasped his fingers around the pistol and waited.

  “You don’t have any bombs, do you?” asked Ailios. He cursed when Ray shook his head.

  “We need to head back,” said Ray.

  It angered Ailios that the spy was right, and that his plan of finding a doctor failed so horribly. And then a loud whoosh above their heads made Ailios look up. A dozen white tubes were descending down, landing thrusters burning to their limits to slow them down. They landed with waves of dust behind Ailios and Ray.

  Ailios called, “I guess, heading back is off the table now.”

  “We have to move,” said Ray and stood up, emptying his pistol at the abominations. He retreated closer to Ailios and then they both started running through ruined buildings while bullets chased them from behind.

  Half a minute of running and avoiding bullets, Ailios had to loosen his helmet, to let the heat out. Few steps later his feet started acting weird. They just wouldn’t listen. His back hurt, his hand hurt more than he would like to admit, but he had to do this. Keep going. Just a little longer.

  His visor fogged with every breath, and breading turned deeper and slower while his heart seemed to pump harder and faster. The heat inside his suit became unbearable. So was the sweat that started to water his eyes and sting the injury on his forehead. And then he collapsed. He couldn’t breathe anymore, or think clearly. In that moment he didn’t care about the pain he endured. He aimed his pistol and fired wherever he could. He knew he probably missed in that awkward state of delirium he was in, but it was all he could do.

  He looked for targets through the misty glass and the fuzziness of his own vision when suddenly lights started raining from above. Explosions and screams filled his ears, and an engine roar that was getting closer from above.

  Just great, he thought, another bombing run.

  Ailios felt himself levitate over the ground. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him; He decided to let his hands grope for proof of his sanity, but touched nothing. He was indeed levitating.

  It didn’t take long for everything to turn silvery-gray and firm ground to touch his back and legs.

  “They’re in!” he heard a voice shout. “Go! Go!”

  “Luthis?” Ailios murmured.

  A black shape appeared above him. “Don’t tell me you were expecting someone else.”

  Ailios couldn’t help himself in all that exhaustion but to remove his helmet and sprawl over the cold metal where he already was. He took a deep, cool breath and closed his eyes.

  We made it.

  “Where is the doctor?” Luthis asked loudly amidst the engine roar.

  Ray said, “He wasn’t there.”

  “Well, at least we’re alive and we’re getting away from this place,” said Luthis again.

  Ailios opened his eyes only to see Ray open the hatch toward the locker room and start climbing the ladder toward the bridge with Luthis close behind. Ailios felt his lips stretch into a smile. We bloody made–

  A sudden explosion sent Ailios flying. He smacked his head on the metal bulkhead hard enough to see stars and swallow blood. His back started hurting almost to a whole different level. And then the shaking started. Ray fell down from the ladder and through the hatch, crushing Ailios’s legs. Ailios gave out a painful scream that somehow got muffled by another explosion. Both of them turned and rolled and spun around. Thick smoke filled his nostrils, making him cough. Silver lockers and blue Bio-suits flew everywhere…

  We’re going down, was all he managed to think before the ship slammed into the ground, sending him in a painful bounce all over the airlock chamber. It hurt so bad that he didn’t even realize they stopped and he was still alive.

  And then there was only silence.

  “Ow,” he said. A suit fell down from an open locker above his head and covered his face. No other sound came from the rest of the ship, not a stir. He pushed the suit and coughed some blood. His lungs burned from the smoke, he was choking from it and coughing until he almost retched. The coughs seemed to have cleared his respiratory system as he was able to mumble, “Anyone alive?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  No one replied.

  Ailios tried to stand up, though he couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. His head spun so badly that he just dropped back down and didn’t move anymore.

  A hatch far to his left opened. Olivia’s bloodied head showed, her blonde hair smeared and oily. She’s still so damn pretty.

  He knew he was smiling at her, though he didn’t feel any of his muscles, not even the facial ones.

  “You okay?” she called.

  Ailios lifted his hand and made a thumb up.

  “We don’t have much time. The engine might explode any second now. Take anything we’ll need to survive – food, water, medicine…”

  Ailios struggled to stand up. This time he forced himself to do so. His hand grabbed the ladder that now didn’t extend up, but toward the hatch to his left, and he steadied himself. Oddly, he succeeded to stand on his feet.

  Funny how a woman can motivate you.

  He looked to his right. Ray was there, covered in pile of suits. “Ray,” Ailios called. He didn’t get a response, so he kneeled and moved one suit away. “Ray, wake up.” Ailios shook him. “Hey, get up–”

  A thud made him turn to the airlock hatch right next to him. He was certain the sound came from there.

  Thud!

  It was almost as if something heavy was pounding on the hatch.

  Ailios stood up. He kicked the spy. “Get up!”

  Thud!

  The hatch dented. Underneath, the spy lay sprawled. “Ray!”

  Thud!

  The dent went deeper into the ship.

  “Come on, man, get up.” He shook him. After he got no response, he cupped his mouth and called behind. “He’s dead!”

  He’s not dead – Olivia said in his head – No one’s dead. They are all unconscious.

  Ailios kicked him again and Ray’s green eyes lit up in an instant. He sprang to his feet, looking around, confused.

  “It’s Ifrin again,” said Ailios, though not as a joke this time. He honestly meant it.

  Thud!

  The round metal hatch bent in, its hinges barely hanging. It was big enough opening for the air to start to escape. Ailios quickly kneeled and took a helmet he found in the chaos under his feet.

  Thud!

  Raibeart looked at the hatch. One hinge held it from caving in.

  Thud!

  The circle of metal flew at him, slamming the spy at the bulkhead behind.

  Before Ailios could turn back at the opening, to see what was happening, something long and black grabbed him by his suit. It pulled him out with such force that sent him flying in the open. His body smacked the ground and his visor cracked. “Ow!”

  He planted his hands down, pushed up through pain and grunts to look what happened. The Imperial palace was in front of him, destroyed, crum
bled… Few Cyon ships had landed in front of the ruined pyramid in what used to be the forum. Cyons were rushing out of the ships, firing their weapons at someone.

  Ailios looked back. His ship was there, the little dolphin turned on its left side, smoke pluming from its burning tail. But what caught his attention was a gigantic black shape, lumbering toward him.

  With his injured hand, Ailios tried to clean the visor to see better, but then the shape grabbed him by his arm. Ailios was amazed by how easily the thing, whatever it was, pulled him up and before he could be amazed by anything else he found himself flying again. This time he heard a bone crack; more importantly – he felt it. He grunted and rolled on his back. He grabbed his hand, certain it was broken at the wrist.

  The shape was getting closer, growling. It was someone tall, two meters at least. He had one red glowing eye and a long metal-looking arm on the same side. The way it walked made the ground tremble. The shape was closer when Ailios noticed the face of that thing. It was familiar. And it was close enough again. It kneeled for another grab and throw, but this time Ailios rolled away, and the thing missed him. His metal fingers scratched the marble. It growled in frustration. Even the growl was familiar. The giant turned and lumbered closer. Ailios stood up, staggered backward for a few steps and stumbled and fell again, the back of his helmet smacked the ground. He turned on his stomach and started crawling away. But he knew the thing was getting closer, he could almost feel its breath through the suit. And the thing grabbed his back and lifted him up again. Ailios clenched his eyes shut, waiting for another throw, but … it didn’t happen.

  Ailios opened an eye, the thing stared at him: one red Cyon eye and one black human eye. It growled again, revealing a shiny tooth and another made out of metal.

  “Faragar?” Ailios mumbled.

  Faragar flung his arm and Ailios went flying. The realization that the thing was Faragar hurt more than the fall itself. Though, that too hurt like he was submerged in a river of fire, and the gods of the underworld clouted him with spiked clubs.

  Ailios rolled on his back, put his hands up. “Faragar, it’s me – Ailios.”

  Faragar growled and lumbered toward him like the beast he was. Ailios tried to stand up in a body of pure pain. Once up, he knew he was stooped, he knew he looked like piece of injured pray, but he knew he could reason with Faragar.

  “It’s me, your team leader,” he said. “Don’t you recognize me?”

  There was not a hint of recognition on the other side.

  “Look behind you,” Ailios tried again. “The pilot of that ship is Olivia. You surely remember her. The gods envy her beauty.”

  Faragar was almost there for another grab, but Ailios stood his ground.

  “And Luthis,” he called. “You remember the guy, the mover who sings so bad–”

  Another grab. Another lift closer to Faragar’s face. Another growl. Another show of his vicious teeth.

  “I know you can hear me, Faragar. Let me go.”

  His red eye was fixed on Ailios’s visor. His teeth half hid behind his lips. “Faragar,” he said in a deep voice.

  “Yes, Faragar. That’s you. And I’m your friend and team leader, Ailios.”

  “Ailios,” he echoed. “Faragar remembers.”

  Ailios exhaled. “Oh, thank the gods–”

  Faragar growled again. He turned back. Ailios looked over the giant’s shoulder. Ray was behind the brute with a pistol in his hands, smoke pluming out of the nozzle.

  “Ray, don’t shoot!” Ailios shouted.

  Faragar let go of Ailios. He slumped down like a bag of meat.

  The brute was walking away from him and moving toward the spy. Ailios heard the pistol discharge and Faragar’s shoulder recoiled sharply, smoke lifted up from the spot. Ailios rolled on his knees and struggled to get himself to his feet. There were two more shots that he was certain got Faragar.

  “Don’t shoot, dammit!” Ailios called. “Get away from him!”

  Faragar was close enough for the kill. And then lights flashed from his side. Red streaks extended toward Faragar and shook his body.

  “No!” Ailios screamed when a group of human-looking Cyons without helmets in this deadly atmosphere started shooting at the brute. “Don’t shoot!” Ailios shouted. “Stop! Ray, tell them to stop!”

  Faragar turned to his attackers and growled. He then jumped. Ailios never saw the brute jump before, but this was something otherworldly. It was impossible for a human, no matter which tribe he came from, to make such a jump. Faragar covered forty meters in an instant and splattered one of his attackers where he landed. He flung his metal arm sideways and threw one of the attackers. The rest kept firing. Beam lights and metal slugs riddled Faragar’s body.

  “Don’t shoot, damn you!” Ailios cried. He forced his legs to push him toward his friend, but his feet only dragged over the marble.

  The brute was down on his knees. Every bolt slammed on his stomach, on his chest and shoulders. It made his muscles go into spasm. Ailios wanted to run to his assistance, to jump at the Cyons, but his legs didn’t obey. He stopped, stood there frozen, watching his friend getting killed.

  And then the shooting stopped. Every Cyon moved closer to the brute, weapons aimed at his dying body.

  The brute was still on his knees, bloodied, badly wounded. His head was bent down, his arms hung limply to the ground. His chest expanded and contracted in deep, slow manner. Smoke plumed from his shoulders and chest like he was just grilled. It was sad to see the big guy like that.

  “I’m sorry, Faragar,” Ailios whispered.

  As if the brute heard him he raised his head and gave a weak smile. He then growled and sprang to his feet with his last amounts of strength.

  Flashes of light forced him back down. The Cyons kept shooting at him as they moved closer until Faragar didn’t move anymore. Only then they stopped. But they were still afraid to get in his reach.

  Ailios’s entrails turned. He wanted to throw up. He couldn’t tell which hurt him more – his own body or the death of his friend. But whatever it was it made his legs turn to jelly. He collapsed on his knees – another jolt of pain that made him wince. His head rolled back, eyes fixed at the night sky, ruthless and heavy.

  Gods, he almost heard himself say. It was as good a moment as any for a prayer, for a few words of remission. And who knows, maybe some divine force would get him out of this mess and bring Faragar back.

  His mouth cracked a smile. He almost believed that. Too many sins were engraved in his past, too many sacrileges. There was no such prayer powerful enough to get him forgiveness for all he’d done. So many artifacts stolen, so many temples breached. He was doomed to suffer for all eternity.

  His eyelids, heavier than ever, covered the world black and he collapsed on his back. He was finally ready to accept his death…

  The blackness went deeper, made his body float and numbed his pain. It was nice, anything that drove away his pain was better than nothing. He heard voices then, drifting through the darkness. They were human voices, it was true, but they spoke in Cyon.

  Gods, if you turn out to be Cyon I’ll drown myself in your bloody rivers.

  He then felt his head rock back and forth. More Cyon words were uttered. Ailios opened his bleary eyes, blackness gave way for fuzziness and cracked glass. And then his vision cleared enough to distinguish one human-looking Cyon behind the crack.

  What do you want from me, skin job? Ailios almost said. He let out a breath. “Let me die in peace,” he said.

  The Cyon put his rifle on his back and extended his hand toward Ailios.

  Ailios blinked, hoping it would clear his vision. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t, but the Cyon still held his hand. Ailios dropped his head down. He then felt the Cyon kneel beside him and lift Ailios up on his shoulders.

  Ailios’s vision was turned upside down, but he could still see things. Ray was there, close to him, talking to one of the Cyons. He was pointing at the crashed dolphin behind. The rest
of the Cyons rushed inside the ship. It didn’t take long for them to come out, carrying Friseal and Luthis on their backs, the archeologist after that, and then the bag with the near-dead Cyon they found on Timor. One of the Cyons held Olivia’s arm over his shoulder while she limped forward, cradling a jar with one of her plants inside. Ailios turned the other way toward one of the ships they were all carried to. Heavily-armed Cyons were standing on a ramp which led to the ship’s interior. These soldiers were beckoning the other human-looking Cyons over with one hand while holding a rifle in the other and occasionally emptying its ammo in various directions from where groups of abominations would appear.

  Ailios gazed at the ship. It would be better if they left him to die a man here than take him inside that beast of metal and be tortured like an animal.

  With a hint of amusement, Ray’s voice crept into Ailios’s head – Don’t worry, they don’t plan to torture anyone yet.

  Good. Ailios let his head collapse. He was too damn exhausted to say a word to the spy. He was too exhausted to think even. Before he knew it, his neck went limp. His eyes looked at the Cyon’s legs that carried him until it was nothing but blackness covering his eyes.

  It was sleep he needed.

  It was sleep he took.

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  Table of Contents

  FLESH AND STEEL

  SYSTEM MAP

  VALERIA

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  VALERIA

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS