Lokians 1: Beyond the End of the World

by Aaron Dennis

  “I’m going in,” Franklin announced. “Everything out here looks fine anyway, so hurry it along.

  O’Hara grumbled, but the agent was already inside, and Becker and Swain went in right behind him. Judging the austere abode, Franklin assumed the travelers were Human sized. He turned to see Flem exhibit difficulty entering.

  “Not much here,” he said.

  “Hey,” a Thewl grunted. By the time everyone exited the home, the rest of the group surrounded the structure. “What was down there?”

  “Not a whole lot,” Becker replied.

  “Let’s check out another one,” Imes suggested.

  “Those tunnelers made their way down here for a reason. They were looking for something, and those other Lokians might be around,” DeReaux added.

  Swain nodded and spoke, “If the tunnels lead here—and I don’t see any other holes like the ones we traversed—those things probably aren’t here.”

  “They could be looking for anything,” Zak mentioned.

  “It’s true,” Korit agreed. “There’s no way of knowing what they’re looking for, but I doubt it’s travelers.”

  A sense of confusion washed over them. There was no doubt the Lokians were seeking something more than supper. After what seemed like an eternity, one of the Thewls spoke.

  “Some of us can search homes while others post up for recon.”

  Fitzpatrick and DeReaux nodded to each other. They broke off to inspect the cavern walls. Shining their lights above their heads, they were unable to see the ceiling.

  Adams and Franklin went rummaging through buildings, but found nothing. O’Hara set his jaw, scrutinizing the glinting panorama. The mist sparkled, waves of light wormed over the scenery, and tiny pieces of ice occasionally fell from overhead.

  Have the Lokians tunneled deeper underground? This might not be the only city. Why should it be? Maybe, they already found something. Definitely doesn’t look like they were trying to get here, and I don’t seen any other tunnels leading anywhere else.

  “Korit,” O’Hara asked as he approached.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Can you contact the ship and see if they picked up any new readings?”

  “If they had, someone would have relayed the Intel, but I’ll see.”

  Changing channels, he asked. A pause ensued, but he turned to O’Hara and shook his head. The lack of information made him more nervous rather than less.

  “Weren’t there like a bunch of tunnels? Where did all the Lokians go,” the captain asked.

  “I don’t know, but the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to find out.”

  Though Korit replied in a monotonous fashion, there was something unnerving about his voice. O’Hara wondered if the alien was also nervous. Before he asked, Franklin mentioned checking another house.

  “This one’s bigger than the rest,” he said. “There’s a large living area.”

  It was a round room, cleanly scooped out of the rocky ground, but like the others, it was ascetic; either travelers were minimalists or they abandoned their homes after extensive packing. Aside from rugs and mats strewn about, there were a handful of storage containers, but nothing worth mentioning. He pointed out stone bowls and utensils similar to Humans’.

  There was another room with shelves dug into the wall. An object caught Franklin’s eye, a stone ziggurat the size of a fist. He took it and turned it over in his hands, searching for markings. The carving emitted a nearly indiscernible vibration. It felt alive.

  “Hmm,” Franklin pondered.

  “Found something, didn’t you,” Adams asked.

  Everyone asked what it was. The noise came over the channel like a cacophonous eatery. While he claimed he didn’t know yet, Flem walked into the same home as Franklin. She decided to push a rug aside with her foot, revealing a depression cut away beneath. On the ground was a stone canister. More people had filed in by the time she turned it over. It was covered in pictures and symbols.

  “Franklin,” she asked.

  He and the others gathered around. “This is Sumerian,” Franklin exclaimed.

  “Hand it over, please,” Nandesrikahl said. “No…not Sumerian….”

  Adams gave Franklin a playful smack on the shoulder. His friend shrugged. Everyone else was staring at Nandy, who was completely consumed by the object. O’Hara asked him what he had.

  “I really don’t know, but it looks like Sumerian glyphs.”

  “You just said it wasn’t,” Becker argued.

  “It isn’t,” he chuckled. “It looks Sumerian….”

  “Do we have enough,” Imes asked.

  “Um,” O’Hara muttered. “Korit?”

  “What exactly did you find?”

  Franklin showed the captain both pieces. “Two, I don’t know, they look like decorative statues to me.”

  “They’re not decorative statues, Sir,” Nandy giggled.

  “If anyone knows language, it’s Nandy,” Marty said.

  “Alright,” the captain huffed. “Everyone meet over here. Let’s have a look and decide what to do.

  The search parties gathered around the home from which Franklin pulled the objects. They items passed from hand to hand. The aliens argued over whether such things were sufficient for their goals. In the end, Korit decided to question his superiors, when Adams called everyone’s attention.

  Chapter Nine

  Adams motioned for everyone to quiet down. Fitzpatrick took notice of his behavior and started climbing for a ledge. She spotted an insect crawling from a crag and immediately called out. Without wasting a second, DeReaux fired a shot, and the bug hit the ground with a smack.

  Jun and Adams walked over to it. It looked like a small football, a brown, bulbous insect with no eyes or mouth, although they may have splattered to the wall. Four legs of steel composition still jittered amidst goo and exoskeleton. The agent surmised it was a scout.

  When more crawlies sprouted from darkened recesses, O’Hara ordered the crew to take cover behind the buildings. Soldiers scattered for safety, when a guttural drone resounded. Following the nauseating belch was the sound of churning stone.

  Eyes grew wide. A tunneler was coming. Alright, where are you, O’Hara wondered. No sooner had his light pointed overhead that a rock fell, bouncing off his helmet. Then, the very ground shook.

  “It’s on top of us,” O’Hara exclaimed.

  The crew spread out. Immense boulders crashed to the ground, some large enough to crush rooves. Glistening dust erupted from the wreckage. Franklin spotted an alcove next to a building and stowed his riches in the knick of time. The beast careened onto the debris, its tentacles extended.

  It looked stunned, so were the soldiers; not only had the noise and earth shaking vibrations frightened them beyond comprehension, but in full view, the Lokian was more intimidating than expected. At over twelve feet across with rows of ravenous teeth, the filthy, maggot-like roach was an incomprehensible creature lacking eyes or even a real head. The hooks on its belly sprung to life, twitching at the air. Just as it started to rock from side-to-side, everyone laid into it.

  “More scouts,” Franklin hollered.

  Ton and Sura fired plasma bursts, popping the bugs like balloons; for each one they killed, two more came crawling from icy crags. “Get in here,” O’Hara yelled, firing repeated shots into the enemy’s flank. “Your weapons are better aimed at this thing!”

  Thewls followed his command, taking the frontline. Bluish lights exploded on impact, illuminating the cavern with a strobe-like effect. Puss and chitin frothed in all directions, but the tunneler gave a final thrash so potent, it flung itself onto its belly, gripped the frozen ground, and charged at the crew.

  People pulled away from cover; the rooves were destroyed in the Lokian’s wake, leaving fragmented stone strewn about, and comm. units were wild with grunts and war cries. To their dismay, round after round had little effect, and the Lokian started spinning by pushing and pulling with its tentacles.
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br />   It picked up a great deal of speed, so everyone eased back in apprehension. It erupted acid with a vulgar belch. The toxic bile spilled out in a full circle. Fortunately, no one was caught by a direct blast of solvent.

  “Back off,” Korit screamed.

  He yoked Franklin from harm’s way, fired a massive burst of plasma into the creature’s side, and while Marty dashed out from cover, Franklin and Adams called for backup. They were preoccupied with the continued swarm of scouts.

  “I got it! I got it,” Marty screamed.

  He dashed around the tunneler, bobbing and weaving from flailing tentacles, and sticking charges to shiny armor. No sooner had he taken off for his life that a new threat emerged. From the tunnels they had taken to the subterranean city, agile Lokians jumped down and made their way for anything that wasn’t insectoid.

  They hopped and leapt like grasshoppers by way of metal legs protruding from a circular thorax. Their swivel joints provided them unimaginable nimbleness, and they leapt straight up, backwards, to their sides, and off the walls. With vice like claws, they ripped the crew to pieces.

  “What the Hell,” Fitzpatrick gasped. “What, what are those things?”

  “Just keep firing,” DeReaux shouted.

  Between the snipers, they had enough sense to fire at the hoppers every time they lashed out at their friends, but when the colossus grenades went off, covering everyone from head to toe in muck, a Lokian slammed into Sura’s back. It gripped her thighs, anchoring itself squarely behind her. She yelled in pain for only a second; pincers took her head right off. A plasma burst obliterated the beast, only too late.

  Day and Imes fired at scouts, when hoppers redirected their attention. They hurtled through the air, covering yards at a time. Adams clicked his tongue. He was close enough to reach the Lokian, and made a run for it, red batons blazing, when a second hopper landed before him, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Aarrgh! Bastard,” he screamed. “I need help!”

  The agent swung madly at his enemy. Fitzpatrick and DeReaux noticed his plight, and turned their scopes on the hopper. Though they fired round after round, scouts started swarming their post. They posed no real threat, so far as they knew, but the little crawlies made aiming impossible.

  “Piece of shit,” Fitzpatrick yelled as she crushed one with the butt of her rifle.

  With no alternative, Adams made a run for safety. He scurried behind some debris, waited for the hopper to land, and when it did, he rolled beneath it to strike at its undercarriage. Red blasts broke through alien alloy, and the insect fell dead on top of him. He crawled free to see Zakowski in trouble; scouts swarmed him, erupting of their own accord.

  “Raaagh! What the shits?” he screamed.

  Marty and Nandy tried dragging him free to safety, but another Lokian crashed down beside them, swinging massive pincers all about. They were knocked away, skidding across ice. Franklin suddenly leapt from out of nowhere, mounted the creature, and ruptured its head with a well placed swing of his baton.

  Time had gone slow for O’Hara. The havoc was compounding by the second. Men were screaming, bullets were flying, sprays of dust and ice bounced off his visor. Silvery hoppers were flashing all around. To his dismay, the men and women of his crew were firing, but falling and making little headway.

  Then, he saw Day and Imes were posted with their backs to the wall, firing at anything that moved. The screams in his ears made it impossible to focus on anything, and just as he had aimed at Day’s threat, yet another hopper kicked up scouts, thundering for Becker.

  He needed a coordinated plan of attack, but his thoughts raced a mile a minute. The Lokian going for Day and Imes latched onto the crags above them. It started bearing down.

  “Get down! Cover your heads,” he screamed.

  Fortunately, Day made eye contact. O’Hara took off at a full run, crunching scouts underfoot. Without even aiming, he let loose a flurry of bullets. His unsteady rifle sprayed over the hopper. Fighting heavy recoil, and unsteady hands, he managed to work down to his target.

  Small chunks of rock and exoskeleton fell. The beast collapsed in front of Day, writhing. Stunned, she caught O’Hara’s eyes for a second time. Then, her vision blurred; Imes took off.

  Becker had been floored. Lokians held her pinned down. When Imes called for help, Korit booted through scouts, trying to reach the Human, who struggled to get a grip on her rifle. Saliva pooled on her visor as the aliens lowered their tentacle ridden faces.

  “C’mon, asshole,” she spat.

  “Get off her, you son of a bitch,” Imes yelled, slamming into chitinous mass with full force.

  Both he and the Lokian tumbled over each other, giving Korit a chance to aim for the other one. Becker managed to bat away some rupturing scouts and snatched her rifle from the ground. She rolled over, took aim, and filled the injured hopper full of holes.

  “Pull yourself together, Imes,” Becker mocked as she stood. “I can handle myself.”

  At the other end of the misty expanse, Franklin dropped his batons. He reached for a device hanging from his harnesses, and threw what looked like two bolts of white light at a Lokian holding Zakowski in both pincers. The bolts hit the monster’s backside, shooting bright lightning out in arcs. That hopper fell, a smoldering, sticky mess, and Zak wriggled free from harm.

  “Lord Almighty,” he peeped.

  Just feet away, Swain stood over Martinez. He turned, keeping his gaze and rifle on two hoppers, who were leaping in to and out of one another’s paths. Without looking, he lowered his hand for Marty, keeping his eyes and flashing muzzle on the closing threat. A small group of scouts were steadily climbing his body, but there wasn’t time to care; Marty was up, and doubling up on rapid fire.

  A sudden jostle move through Swain’s backside; Korit had his back to Swain’s and fired at more Lokians. Without taking his eyes off the target, he stomped a scout, finished off a hopper, and turned to fire over his crew mate and Nandesrikahl, who made it to Zakowski’s side. The small man was jarred, but uninjured from the previous attack.

  The two bolted for a Thewlian compatriot in time to see a hopper land on top of her. Even with her large frame, she was forced to a knee, so Nandesrikahl attempted to wipe some rusty goo from his visor for better aim. Regretfully, it smeared. He tried looking through the muck and fired a lucky shot, saving her from harm.

  Flem ran into the melee in an attempt to pull he mate to safety, but received a steel leg to her midsection. She doubled over in flight before smacking hard against a building. Quickly coming to her feet, she aimed at the enemy.

  “Get away, Thewl, we have this,” Zakowski shrieked and swung his hand.

  He and Nandy held the remaining hoppers at bay; casings poured onto the ground as bullets ricocheted off metallic plating. Whether it was they or the snipers who killed the creature, one more Thewl was safe for the moment.

  The captain howled. “They’re moving towards Imes.”

  O’Hara bounded over a roof, trying to both flee a hopper and help his friend. Sadly, the snipers had abandoned their scout laden post for a higher ledge and were unable to heed O’Hara’s order. By then, the hopper vaulted through the air, slammed into Imes, and sent him reeling to the ground.

  He crashed over icy formations. Immediately, he tried to stand, but his leg was numb and tingly. After catching a glimpse from his peripheral he turned. Becker was trying to reach out for him, but another hopper got away from Korit. The beast covered the distance to in a single leap. With an imperceptible movement of its sharp pincer, the hopper snapped off her outstretched arm.

  “I,” she whispered.

  The Lokian swiveled about and struck Imes in the gut. Sharp claws cut through his armor, spilling blood. He fell to his knees and faded. Becker was fading, too. Insurmountable pain accosted her body; she was torn apart. The whole of Phoenix Crew watched it happen in the blink of an eye.

  Nandesrikahl barreled across the terrain, making for the wounded, but they had alr
eady died. “Nooo,” he screamed from hands and knees.

  He clenched his teeth in rage, screaming and firing until his gun clanked. Either he was out of rounds or it overheated. Some Thewls had recovered, however, and provided cover. The snipers, having weaseled into a depression high up in the wall, gave their all to fight for survival. Finally, they carved away at the enemy.

  “You have to take cover! Try to,” O’Hara warned before he was cut off in mid-sentence.

  A hopper landed next to him and kicked him over. He fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of his lungs. Still, he aimed his rifle at the monster, let loose a couple of shots that bounced off its sturdy undercarriage, and then scrambled to stand.

  A plasma burst nailed it from the side, busting off an arm, but it was far from dead. The beast rotated and placed a leg on the captain, keeping him pinned. Day screamed and fired at the Lokian, but it hopped straight into the air, touched the ceiling then propelled itself at a Thewl. Swain and Korit saw the alien flash by their vision. Together, they blasted it beyond recognition.

  “Captain,” Day gasped, helping him up.

  On his feet, he grumbled his thanks, and rejoined the fray. The enemy had lost its edge as snipers picked off remnants. Franklin mounted the last hopper, placed a device on its head, and rolled to safety. Millions of super thin, razor sharp, metallic fragments erupted from the device, decapitating the hopper.

  Swain had managed to round up anyone injured while Martinez tossed grenades. Between the explosions and his cursing, Korit figured out the Human was out of ammo. He kicked up the fire power on his pack, unleashing more gas from his cannon, turning it into a flame thrower, spouting bright, blue fires. All around the red giant, scouts sizzled, puffed, and crackled.

  The crew slowly came off their battle high. Snipers still picked off more scouts, but the bugs were in flight. O’Hara looked everyone over. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape as he tried to catch his breath.