"Who are you!"
"Just someone passing through. Pay me no mind, I'll be gone before you know it."
Krul was about to issue a protest, and then a rock (gripped firmly in the humanoid's fist) slammed down into the side of his skull. Krul's head sagged and, with a barely audible sigh, he gave up consciousness. Just before blackness enveloped, he thought he heard a faint chuckling sound, and he swore to himself that he would never forget it. That sooner or later, he would face his assailant again, and the next time around, it would be Krul who had the last laugh.
Telepathy had never been Xyon's strong suit. Most of his psionic powers were low level and instinctual. But when he had encountered the creature that called itself Krul, what he found was a remarkably simplistic creature with not much depth and tremendous reliance on instinct. As a result, Xyon was able to divine more information from Krul than he would have been able to glean from a more sophisticated, resistant mind. Unfor-lunately, what he had managed to extract didn't make a tremendous amount of sense to him.
He lay the rock down next to Krul's insensate form and tried to collect his own scattered thoughts. Who was this Riella? What was this Quiet Place? He'd never heard of it
Montos, however, he had heard of. A backwater world, nothing particularly remarkable about it. Not heavily populated, and the residents there were largely an inoffensive lot. But the people living there (one of them in particular) had suddenly become targets, although they didn't know it yet.
The things that Xyon had heard about the Dogs of War were beginning to come back to him. They'd been the results of some sort of genetic experiments, that much he remembered. And the group name, Dogs of War, had been given them by some
United Federation of Planets reporter, apparently culled from an earth poem or something. The name had stuck, as press-designated names often did. Apparently, even the Dogs themselves had taken to fancying the name, because they were now calling themselves by a term that translated as Dogs of War, although in their language it meant more like "unstoppable rampaging mindless beasts." The
"mindless" part Xyon somewhat agreed with; "unstoppable" was clearly an exaggeration.
In the distance, he heard snarling and rending and tearing, and he knew that the
Dogs were stampeding throughout the area. They would continue to do so until they ran out of prey or got bored, at which point they would then head to Montos and go after this Riella person, a "she," judging by the information he'd garnered from Krul. Xyon couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
And then he moaned softly to himself because he knew himself all too well. He knew what that feeling entailed. He was going to have to do something about it.
Knowing that the unknown Riella was going to be subject to the vomitus attentions of the Dogs of War was all the impetus Xyon needed to throw himself into yet another determined quest.
"Gods, I'm an idiot," he muttered, but unfortunately he didn't find himself in much of a position to do anything about it.
He checked Krul over and found no weapons on him. That was unfortunate; Xyon could have used some. It was understandable, though; the Dogs were practically living weapons. When they were up in their ships they didn't hesitate to unleash whatever firepower they had, but once on the ground, they obviously preferred close-up rending and tearing with their claws. Charming creatures.
Xyon began to make his way past the newly created rubble and the burning buildings. He stuck close to the perimeter and managed to avoid the centers of activity where the Dogs were going about their business. As adept at remaining inconspicuous as Xyon was by nature, in this case it wasn't particularly difficult at all. The Dogs were making so much noise that a blind elephant could have avoided detection simply by listening for where they were and going where they weren't.
Within minutes Xyon had managed to work his way back to the place where the flagship had landed. He had made only one brief stop: At the platform where he had, only a short time earlier, been faced with a rather nasty prospective end.
There he had grabbed several of the more easily transportable cutting implements and shoved them into his belt and the tops of his boots. He wouldn't have minded having a phaser, disruptor, or blaster at his side, but he was obviously going to have to make do.
The main entrance to the ship had been left wide open. This screamed trap to
Xyon, for it would have been the work of but a moment to cycle the door shut behind them. So, the obvious conclusion was that they were trying to draw potential victims into the ship for the equally obvious reasons.
Xyon was trying to determine a way in when it pre- sented itself to him in a most unexpected fashion- specifically, when a low growling and the sound of claws on rocks alerted him at the last possible second. If he had turned to see the Dog of War leaping at him, that would have been enough to finish him. But he knew what was coming, and instead Xyon dropped to the ground, allowing the Dog's lunging charge to carry the creature clear over his head. The Dog was larger than Krul had been, more heavily muscled, and obviously more confident. That confidence, however, turned out to be its undoing. It hit the ground and started to scramble around in order to face Xyon once more, but it was too slow. Xyon leaped atop the Dog's back and wasted no time at all. He gripped the creature's head on either side with fingers that were like steel cords, and he twisted as hard and as quickly as he could. The
Dog's neck snapped with only slightly less resistance than Foutz's had. Xyon rolled off as the Dog's carcass slumped to the ground.
The way hi now presented itself. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but it would at least get him close enough.
He removed the armor from the Dog's body and set to work.
Nothing got past Vacu.
It's not that Vacu was particularly bright. In point of fact, he wasn't. He was, however, easily the most massive of all the Dogs of War. He was a head-and-a-half taller than Rier and routinely had to bend over whenever passing through any portal. If he had had brains or intestinal fortitude to match his build, he would have been the most devastating Dog of all. None would have been able to stand against him.
His lack of fundamental intelligence, however, was a major drawback. Instead, he was more than happy to be treated well and follow orders. That was something he excelled at. And in this instance, the order from
Rier had been quite simple: Stay out of sight just inside the entrance port. And if anyone who is not one of us enters, kill him. There was no way that Vacu could possibly get confused over that.
So, he had remained hidden, at least as well as someone of his bulk could manage. And he had waited to see who, if anyone, entered.
It had been fairly quiet, and Vacu was impatiently shifting from one foot to the other since he really didn't have anything else to do. And that was when he heard a noise at the door and braced himself in anticipation of possibly getting to kill someone. His nostrils flared as he tried to detect the scent, and what he picked up was tremendously confusing to him. It smelled somewhat like Shukko, but the scent was different somehow.
"Shukko?" Vacu said softly and peered out from his hiding place. Then he gaped at what he saw, his black eyes going as wide as they possibly could.
It was Shukko, all right, but he looked terrible. His fur was stiff and matted with blood. His paws were up and covering his face as he staggered. He wasn't saying anything. Considering the amount of blood on him, it was possible that someone had cut his throat.
"Shukko!" Vacu cried out, louder this time, and he emerged from his hiding place, crossing quickly to his pack mate.
He drew within two feet and the smell was even more wrong. There was death... death was clinging to Shukko, but it didn't seem possible because Shukko was standing right there. Clearly he wasn't dead, but he didn't seem quite alive. It was too much for Vacu to figure out.
He did not, however, have time to figure it out, because Shukko drew an arm back and hit Vacu as hard as he could in the side of the head. Vacu staggered slightly and loo
ked at Shukko with crossed eyes. "What's the matter with you,
Shukko?" he demanded.
Shukko hit him again and Vacu still didn't come close to toppling over. He did, however, start to realize just what was wrong, and he grabbed at Shukko's head and yanked as hard as he could. The fur-covered head tore off and Vacu found himself staring at a bloodied and distinctly non-Dog face that peered up from beneath an armor plate. It took him that long to realize that Shukko was, in fact, dead, and suddenly the creature with the non-Dog face yanked a piece of pipe free from the wall and swung it as hard as he could. He struck Vacu with full force in the skull and Vacu went down, his ears ringing. "Stop it!" Vacu managed to get out thickly, feeling more annoyed than anything else, and then several repeated blows to the head were enough to knock Vacu cold.
Xyon quickly stripped off the rest of his makeshift costume and tried not to let it get to him-although he desperately needed a bath. He couldn't believe how many attempts it had taken him to down the behemoth he had encountered, and he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he had gotten off lucky.
Fortunately, the ship was lightly manned. Most of the Dogs were out and about, enjoying themselves and having just a grand old time spreading carnage and destruction wherever they went. That left Xyon with enough leeway to do what needed to be done.
He made his way quickly through the ship, trying to steer clear of any random members of the skeleton crew left behind. Considering he was covered with the blood of one of their associates, the odds were that they would be able to smell him with no trouble if they came anywhere within range of him.
His plan was simple: Find the engine room and disable the engines so that the main ship would be stuck on the planet, giving him the lead time he'd need to get to Montos before they did. He was reasonably sure that he could make his way to the engines, wherever they were, in fairly short order.
He took one turn, then another, ducked through some sort of circuitry tunnel, emerged on the other side, and stepped through a door...
... and found himself on the bridge of the ship.
It was fairly small, really, constructed for maximum efficiency and use of space.
There were two Dogs there, apparently running systems checks or in other ways performing routine maintenance. They turned and looked at Xyon with open-jawed astonishment.
"Hello," said Xyon, and suddenly he had a knife in each hand. Before his presence had fully registered on the Dogs, he had left fly with the twin blades.
They sped through the air and landed squarely in the chests of the two Dogs. The creatures didn't even have time for a howl of protest as they pitched forward.
Xyon gave them no further thought as he shoved them out of the way so that he could inspect the weapons and guidance arrays. There was a viewing port set into the front section of the bridge, giving him a clear sight line to the surrounding area.
He studied the consoles before him and quickly came to some interesting conclusions. He tapped what appeared to be a pivot control and discovered that he was absolutely right. The entire bridge section swivelled a full 360 degrees.
Apparently they were positioned squarely on top of the vessel and the full-turn capacity was how they managed to view everything around them.
Nestled all around the flagship, like so many contented little guards, were the smaller ships.
Xyon discovered the weapons array and he grinned in a most satisfied fashion.
"You creatures like carnage?" he murmured. "Here's some carnage for you."
Rier's first hint that something was wrong was when he heard a series of explosions coming from the general area where the vessels had landed. Other members of bis pack who were with him likewise reacted with surprise, looking in confusion at each other as if automatically assuming that the other would have some sort of explanation. "Come on!" shouted Rier, and they left behind their amusements as they bolted in the direction of the ships to see what was causing this rather unexpected assortment of detonations.
When they drew within sight of the landing area, they froze, unable to believe it. The upper section of the flagship was turning, opening fire on all the ships around it. It was ripping into the ships with no particular accuracy; instead it was just shooting and shooting in all directions as it continued to turn relentlessly. However, since the vessels around it were not moving, it had no problem blowing the lot of them to kingdom come. The Dogs let out a collective howl of fury as, one by one, the ships erupted in flame. Shrapnel and assorted bits and pieces of the ships spiralled through the air, crashing into rocks and debris like so many flaming meteorites.
"Who's doing this!" barked Rier, but no answer was forthcoming. The other Dogs ducked back, but Rier refused to be intimidated by his own ship. He charged forward, darting between the random blasts, making his way deftly towards his flagship. With every yard he covered, he bristled more, became more furious as he contemplated the way he was going to avenge himself on whomever it was who had the nerve to interfere with the Dogs of War.
Then Rier skidded to a halt. He saw the gunports angling down and around towards the flagship itself. "No!" he shouted, but even as he cried out in protest he was backing up as fast as he could.
The weapons lashed into the flagship, cutting a swath through the unshielded hull. Rier saw where the track of the blasts was taking it, but there was nothing he could do as the guns blasted into the engine room. Immediately the engines exploded, flame belching heavenward in a blazing column that made all the fur on Rier's hide stand on end. From behind him there was distressed yipping from the other Dogs, but they- like he-were completely helpless. Fire erupted in concentric circles, enveloping the remains of the smaller ships. It seemed an eternity, but in reality it was only seconds as the entirety of the
Dogs' landing force was reduced to scorched or melting metal.
The other Dogs, numbering two dozen, gathered around Rier, staring in astonishment at a landing fleet gone completely awry. No one said anything. No one could think of anything to say.
"Atik," Rier said after a time. "Fista. Omon." In response to their names, three of the Dogs-Rier's prime lieutenants-appeared at his side. Atik had the blackest fur of any of them, so dark that one could stare at the shadows for a time and never see him. He was also the only one of the Dogs who carried a weapon, having fallen in love with a set of two, razor-edged swords captured during one foray. He had started wearing them on his back, referring to them as his "long claws." Fista, litter brother to Krul, had a lean and hungry look about him, and his fur was a mottled gray. Omon moved with assurance and swagger. His gestures and mannerisms were always big and full of confidence, his dusky red fur slicked back and meticulously maintained.
"Spread out," continued Rier. "Scour the area."
"Whoever was responsible, Rier, is surely dead," Atik said in his customary just-above-a-whisper tone.
"Not if he set it for automatic sequencing, he's not," Rier replied. "He could have rigged it and gotten out before the first shot was fired. Unless, of course, you have something better to do, Atik. Considering, however, that we're stuck here until the rest of the pack realizes we're overdue and sends rescue ships, I don't see any problem with you spending some of your precious time in trying to determine who did this to us. And if-"
Then they blinked in surprise as, from the rubble, there was a stirring.
Immediately the Dogs tensed, having absolutely no idea what to expect.
From the smoke, from the debris, rose a huge form. It was Vacu. He looked extremely puzzled and stared blankly at his pack brothers. His fur was completely blackened, and he coughed up a huge lungful of smoke. He staggered towards Rier and the others, who remained motionless as he drew nearer and nearer. Finally he stopped several feet away from them, stared at them as if not truly believing that they were there, and
I hen said, "Ouch." At which point he fell forward again. "Perfect," muttered
Rier.
Xyon reached his ship without any further
incident. That was something of a relief; considering everything that had gone on since he'd set foot on the damned planet, it was nice to have at least one thing go smoothly for him.
"Hello, Xyon," his ship greeted him when he stepped into the cockpit. He referred to it as a cockpit because it was really too small to be reasonably called a bridge, being large enough only to accommodate two or three people at most.
"Hello, Lyla," he replied. "Fire up the main thrusters and let's get out of here."
"Is someone trying to kill you?" inquired the ship. Naturally, it was capable of multitasking, so even as the ship conversed with Xyon, it brought the engines on line and heated up the main thrusters. The ship itself was not remarkably large or even particularly pretty to look at, being somewhat irregularly shaped since
Xyon had a consistent habit of building on to it here and there whenever he had the resources or the luck to find something he could adapt. But the ship was fast and maneuverable, with a stolen cloaking device and enough weaponry to see him through most fights. At least, most fights that enabled him to hit and run.
Star Trek - NF - 07 - The Quiet Place Page 6
