Battle Of The Species
*
Galileo
*
By
Meaghan Sinclair
Book 1
Text © 2011,2013 by Meaghan Sinclair
Cover illustration © 2013 by Jason Moser
Interior design by Jason Moser
Editing by Kathleen Dale
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the author.
Galileo is the first book in a five-book series.
For updates on future releases, please visit:
www.meaghansinclair.net
www.battleofthespecies.com
Twitter: @SinclairMeaghan
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1 The Heir
CHAPTER 2 Fight like a human
CHAPTER 3 Cascading Portals
CHAPTER 4 Camden, Maine
CHAPTER 5 The Galileo
CHAPTER 6 Simulation
CHAPTER 7 Battle of the Species
CHAPTER 8 Bottom of the Food Chain
CHAPTER 9 Portals
CHAPTER 10 The Long Kept Secret
CHAPTER 11 The Closet Explorer
CHAPTER 12 Blue Illumination
CHAPTER 13 Fighters, Prepare
CHAPTER 14 Unwanted Projections
CHAPTER 15 Allies
CHAPTER 16 Burlia
CHAPTER 17 Class Field Trip
CHAPTER 18 Karma
CHAPTER 19 P-3191
CHAPTER 20 Traitor
CHAPTER 21 And Then There Was Light
To my mom and brother.
CHAPTER 1
The Heir
Planet: Torres
Galaxy: Messier 87
Federation Date: 6.25.7266
A hunter should always know his prey, which Desh soon realized he didn’t. He followed the crimson streak of blood through the snow-covered forest and tried to relax, even if only to hide his uncertainty. This was the first time he had heard of a Prymin wandering into that region of the planet. He had only learned a few hours before that they were shaggy albinos, strong enough to overpower a large Toran male and drag him through the forest. Prymin stood waist-high to the average human when walking on all fours, had sharp retractable claws, and a long tail with a huge claw on the end.
The forest was washed with a heavy silence, while he continued to follow the macabre trail. He heard the Toran wings swooshing above the trees, moving a great bulk of air with each beating motion, knowing that Kia would be among them. Then the soft thud of their spiked boots could be heard as they landed on the thick snow-burdened branches, sprinkling the ground with a hail of powdered snow. The snowfall gave the forest a surreal beauty, despite it turning out to be such a gory day.
Desh’s palms illuminated with a bright blue light, warning predators that electricity harbored within him. He sniffled, hating that the chill always made his nose run.
You know, Kia and I are fourteen, Desh projected into the trees. We can handle a Prymin attack on our own. He listened to the scattering of thoughts of the Toran men flying above him.
We can’t risk it.
It’s too dangerous.
Get over it.
Desh sighed and continued on by foot, for lack of Toran wings. Since Desh was Mindeerian, he was human in form, despite the diamond shaped pupils and fangs. He had the gifts of telepathy, telekinesis, and electricity creation, but what he would have given for a pair of wings. At first glance, he looked like nothing but a defenseless child, especially compared to the brawny Toran men, dripping with testosterone. Their scars, from battles long since past, intertwined with tribal tattoos snaking down their faces, disappearing beneath their uniforms of leather, fur, and metal. The Torans clutched their double-curved, wooden bows, ready to fire poisonous arrows. The hope was to find the Prymin before it found them.
Desh brushed the dark brown hair out of his eyes with his fingers and focused on the ground. The trail of blood grew fainter and fainter until there was only the indentation of a body being dragged.
Don’t mess up, don’t mess up, everyone’s watching, he thought to himself — thankful that he was the only telepath on the planet. He tried retaining the hope that Roma, the missing Toran, was still alive, but the longer time went on, the more hope began to fade.
He listened to the thoughts lingering in the air while he walked.
He must be dead.
I don’t see him.
We need to make better time.
Desh increased his pace in the thick snow, hoping he wouldn’t be exhausted by the time they found the Prymin.
I see Roma, Brother.
Brother. That’s Kia, Desh thought. It didn’t matter that they weren’t brothers, or that they weren’t even of the same species. Kia had been Desh’s best friend for as long as either of them could remember and as close as brothers could be.
Desh ran over a small hill and saw Roma lying on his back, looking up with lifeless eyes towards the slate gray sky.
Desh slowed down as he approached, wishing he could silence the sound of the snow crunching beneath his boots. He raised his blue-lit palms and scanned the area, looking for the slightest movement.
Nothing.
Does anyone see it? Desh projected.
No.
Not yet.
It must be here.
The tree branches sagged with Torans pointing arrows in every direction.
Desh listened for foreign-tongued thoughts, and took cautious steps around Roma’s body, but heard nothing. Then it occurred to him that he didn’t even know what the Prymin’s language sounded like. For all he knew, the whistling sound he heard was the Prymin and not the wind.
Desh heard the clicking of a claw only a second before the huge white Prymin jumped from under a shallow layer of snow behind him. He spun around before he had time to register movement, just as the Prymin lunged for his neck. He created a wall of energy, shielding his body from the Prymin’s bite.
The two slammed into a pile of snow, thrashing about, covering both fighters in ice.
“Get it off you!” Kia yelled, unable to get a clean shot.
Desh released the shield, focused the energy on the Prymin’s chest and thrust it into the air.
The Prymin whipped its tail around and clamped down on Desh’s leather coat, pulling itself back on top of him.
The beast’s putrid breath made Desh gag, as a bifurcated tongue jutted out from between the Prymin’s jagged teeth, licking at Desh’s face.
He sent another burst of energy into the Prymin’s chest, so intense that the beast couldn’t hold its grip. Desh pinned it against a tree while it growled in murderous rage, thrashing and swiping at the invisible cloud of energy that imprisoned it.
Kia landed beside Desh with his arrow aimed at the Prymin’s chest. “Drop the energy stream, I’ll cover you,” Kia said.
“No, hold your fire,” Desh replied, trying to regain his breath.
“Why, Brother?” Kia asked.
“Something’s not right,” Desh said, glancing back at Roma. “There’s only one. Where’s it taking him?”
Desh squinted, looking into the Prymin’s red eyes, and searched through the memories of the filthy animal. He held them only long enough to register their meaning, causing the images to flash at a rapid pace. He saw an image of it creeping through the forest, and then slowed the memory down to see it in its entirety.
He watched it approach a quiet burrow in the snow, and then leap behind a bush when a wet, pointy nose popped out of the hole, sniffing the crisp winter air. A furry head popped out next, looking around with thre
e beady black eyes. After a few moments, the animal shivered its matted red fur and crawled out on four stubby legs. It turned towards the river nearby and slowly made its way through the trees.
The Prymin dug its feet into the snow to gain traction and pounced from the bush, snapping the animal’s neck before it had time to react. The Prymin turned around and clamped down on the fur with its tail, then took off running. It dragged it to a clearing, where a pack of Prymin sniffed the dead animal and grunted. The largest Prymin in the pack howled and raced off towards the burrows with the pack following close behind.
Desh fast-forwarded, scanning through more memories, until he recognized the village, high up in the trees, where he and the Torans lived in houses carved deep into the massive tree trunks.
The Prymin crawled up a tree, inch by inch, creeping up towards Roma’s hut and waited till Roma turned his back to the open doorway.
The Prymin jumped, ripping out a chunk of the Toran’s neck with its teeth. It turned again and clamped down on Roma’s jacket. The beast walked to the edge of the hut and threw the Toran to the ground far below before it slid down the tree, using traction from its claws to control the descent. It ran through the forest, dragging its kill, while the shouts of Torans faded behind it.
The Prymin stopped running when it heard rustling in the trees and saw powdered snow sprinkle down in the distance. It burrowed under the snow, unmoving, until it felt Desh’s feet crunch down beside it.
Desh released the memories when he saw a reflection of himself holding the Prymin against the tree, as if he were looking into a mirror. He looked to his right and saw Tig land and walk up to him and Kia. Unlike the others, Tig wore a metal chest plate, a wrist communicator, and thought blockers on his ears — which were currently disabled in order to allow him to communicate with Desh at far distances. The chest plate bore the insignia of the Intergalactic Law Enforcement, distinguishing him from the local Toran soldiers around him. Tig tightly tucked his massive brown and white spotted wings behind him and glanced at the Prymin.
“Why hesitate?” Tig asked Desh. “This is your kill.”
“I think it’s just a scout,” Desh replied. “It was taking Roma back to the den. If another Prymin finds our village, they’ll send the entire pack,” he said.
“So, you want to go after the pack?” Kia asked.
“Yeah,” Desh said, looking to Tig. “We’re only postponing a fight if we leave now. Better if we take care of it away from the village.”
“Your call.” Tig nodded, then looked up into the trees. “Follow the Prymin — we’re going after the den. Odar, you stay and return Roma’s body to his family.”
Desh took a deep breath, hoping that his instinct was correct. He looked at Kia for reassurance and wished they could do it alone. Kia was far more forgiving than the virile Torans, who learned to fight and hunt as soon as they learned to walk.
It’s a good call, Brother, Kia thought. You’re doing fine.
Thanks, Desh projected. “All right. Here we go,” he said and released the beast.
The Prymin dropped to the ground with a thud and picked itself up, growling furiously. It dug its paws into the snow, focusing its red eyes on Desh.
Desh emitted lightning bolts from his palms, landing inches from the Prymin’s feet. The beast jumped back, startled. It stared at Desh, hesitating, and then took off running through the forest.
Desh jumped high into the trees, running beside the Torans, when the branches became too dense for the soldiers to fly. His spike-soled boots gripped onto the icy branches, and though they kept him from slipping, they hindered his speed immensely. He began jumping from tree to tree to quicken his pace until they neared a clearing. He slowed down, treading lightly to decrease the sound of the ice crunching and avert snow from falling.
As the soldiers arrived, they took a small swipe of snow and placed it on their tongues to prevent the heat from their breath from rising in clouds of steam in the cold Toran air. They landed, keeping their distance, with each new arrival landing closer and closer to the den.
Within the clearing lay two dozen Prymin, their mouths thick with drool. They ripped raw meat off broken bones, coating their white muzzles with crimson red blood.
The arriving Prymin appeared over a snowy knoll, targeting the largest in the group and rumbled in stentorian growls to report.
Clean arrows, Desh projected. Let’s not waste the meat.
The Torans returned the green-tipped arrows to their quivers, retrieving arrows fastened with tips made of clean, strong bone. Desh looked around, finding all of the soldiers in place, and put his fist up in the air. The soft moan of the Toran bows could be heard throughout the trees, as the winged men took aim. The Prymin looked up towards the sound and stood erect as they bared their bloodstained teeth and sharp nails.
This is my battle. Kia gives the war cry, Desh projected.
The Toran soldiers looked at Tig for a reaction to the slight, but he gave none. Tig looked over to Kia and nodded to the youngest Toran. Kia took a deep breath and let out a thunderous squawk that was neither bird, nor human, but somewhere in between. At the sound of the war cry, the largest Prymin howled and the huge creatures scattered through the torrent of arrows.
The Prymin jumped for the trees, climbing at a swift pace. Desh looked down at a Prymin racing towards him. He put out his palm and fired a lightning bolt that seared the Prymin’s neck. The beast let out a tortured howl and fell to the ground in a smoking heap of fur. The Prymins scaled the trees with undaunted fleetness, advancing on the Toran soldiers. The Torans pulled back on their arrows, but the massive branches obstructed their view, spurring the soldiers into flight for better aim.
Desh projected an image of the Torans no longer aiming for the Prymin climbing towards them, but rather for one on an opposite tree that was climbing towards another soldier. The soldiers switched tactics and arrows filled the air. A yell came from one of the Torans and Desh turned to see a Prymin on the soldier’s back, ripping through one of his wings. Half a dozen arrows penetrated the Prymin’s back and it too fell to the ground, with feathers still protruding from its mouth. The firing dissipated, but the Torans continued flying and jumping, searching for those still hiding.
Hold your fire, Desh projected. He looked around, searching for movement, but saw only feathers and mounds of bloody white fur in the snow. He closed his eyes, listening, and released a fire bolt into a mass of snow that howled in pain. The jolt of electricity seared the Prymin beneath the icy blanket and the animal shook violently until the only movement was the steam rising from the body. Another bolt fired from the Mindeerian the second he heard the nails scraping the frozen bark. He opened his eyes to see the bolt sear the trunk as the last Prymin reached Kia. “Kia!” Desh yelled in horror. He jumped over the clearing and slammed his feet onto a thick branch, racing for his friend.
Kia dropped the bow and rammed an arrow through the Prymin’s chest with his hand. The Prymin spat blood and its tail came over its shoulder towards Kia’s throat. Kia put up his hand to block the claw, until a barrage of arrows pierced the beast from every direction.
The Prymin fell to the ground, creating a thick cloud of white powder around it.
Desh’s heart continued to race while they looked around for more creatures in hiding. Once they felt secure they had killed the last Prymin, the Torans landed on the ground, retrieving their arrows and returning them to their quivers. Desh looked down at his hands and clenched his fists, trying to control the shaking from the lingering adrenaline. He took a deep breath, but resisted the temptation to rest. Instead, he walked around, wanting to remain prepared in case another were to spring out of the snow and kill him.
Relax, Brother. We got them, Kia thought.
Desh couldn’t help but smile. Who needed telepathy when one could read friends’ minds by the expressions on their faces? Desh thought to himself.
The soldiers tended to the wounded and assessed the damage to their uniforms,
flesh, and wings. Metal wands swiped across open wounds, cauterizing and creating healed scars within seconds. Soldiers mumbled obscenities when it was announced that they’d have to walk home due to the damage to some of the soldiers’ wings.
“We won’t make it back before dark if we walk,” Tig said to Desh. They looked up towards the departing sun and the clouds that looked ready to burst. “We’ll make camp here for the night and walk back in the morning.”
“We’ll freeze to death, Tig. What if it snows tonigh…” Desh stopped when he saw the image of a cave floating around Tig’s mind. Desh looked around, finding the mouth of the cave entrance, hidden behind a massive tree.
“The Prymin’s den,” Tig said. “For such vile creatures, they’re astoundingly hygienic. They don’t even eat where they sleep.”
Desh walked into the cave, with his palms illuminated. Despite the minimal space, there was a sufficient amount of room to shelter the soldiers. It was dry, clean, and would give them refuge from the snowfall.
They gathered the bodies of the Prymin, admiring the food that would feed the entire tribe, and fur that would not only keep them warm, but also camouflage them on hunting trips during winters to come. Nothing would be wasted, including the bones that would be used for arrowheads and knife handles. The soldiers finished binding the bodies together with vines and sat by a crackling fire. They roasted one of the Prymin, gulped down fresh water, and gathered their strength, while stories were told.
Galileo (Battle of the Species) Page 1
