by Aer-ki Jyr
Jo’ra looked for position information and other details, but knew he didn’t have time to do a thorough interrogation. The Zan’for had sent word hours ago, meaning reinforcements were already on the way. Perhaps close.
With a thought he put the Zan’for to sleep, then waited for his collapsing body to fall off the branch. He caught it with his Lachka so it didn’t crash into the ground, then the Zen’zat stepped up and crouched over the scout as he set him down. He put a kill shot into the base of his neck and telepathically called out to the Era’tran, identifying himself and informing them of the scout that had unwittingly been calling the enemy to their location.
The Era’tran outside the tent came crashing back into the under canopy clearing, but the one inside didn’t emerge as the giant red muzzle of an Era’tran female soon arrived and looked down on Jo’ra and the dead scout from two meters above him.
“I cannot move him. He is comatose and I do not have the equipment to bring him out of it.”
“They will be coming here. They have this location,” Jo’ra reminded her. “What do you want to do?”
“I cannot carry him, and I cannot leave him. Are you alone?”
“For the moment. There are three others who survived nearby. They are searching different locations to find you.”
“Can four of you help me move him?”
“Not far and not fast. And we would make such a disturbance in the jungle that we would be easy to follow. We cannot stay here, we have to move. Our only option is a distraction.”
“What kind of distraction?” Sol’an asked, her eye ridges furrowing.
“They have to find someone here. If there is a way to hide Tu’vac and you flee, we might be able to get them to chase you and miss him, but that’s unlikely unless we can conceal him.”
“So this is the end? We fight and die here?”
“I have no other suggestions.”
“What do you wish to do?”
“Use you as bait and ambush the attackers if they come on foot. That will be my best chance of killing the most.”
“Do so then. How far away are the others?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know how far away the…” Jo’ra said, stopping as he received a comm message. He replied silently, as far as Sol’an was aware, then looked up at her muzzle again. “Mario’topa has a gunship and an additional rescued Zen’zat. He also has aerial pursuit coming from the Zor’do. A Kardopa transport that is not heading his way. It is most likely headed here.”
“A Zen’zat gunship?”
“It can’t shoot down a Kardopa.”
“Can it carry Tu’vac?”
“Not inside.”
“Do what you think is best, Zen’zat. I leave our defense to you.”
Jo’ra immediately got on the comm, broadcasting loud enough that it could be tracked to his location, but he knew their position had already been compromised.
“I’ve found the Era’tran, but Tu’vac is immobile. I killed a scout that already reported their location and requested reinforcements.”
“Define immobile?” Mario’topa asked.
“He’s seized up and Sol’an can’t revive him. Right now he’s inside a camouflage tent. I haven’t seen him personally. Is there a way we can strap him to the gunship?”
“There’s no time to try. You’ve got 13 minutes.”
“How long until you get here?”
“If I don’t pick up the others, 6 minutes. 9 if I do.”
“Get them and harass the transport. There’s no point in you dying here too.”
“Do they know he is immobile?”
Jo’ra glanced at the scout’s body. “I don’t think so.”
“Then they’ll most likely drop their troops off nearby and hunt you down in the jungle using the transport for air cover, not for making the primary kill. They won’t get close enough for the Era’tran psionics to snag them.”
“You think this is a specialized…” Jo’ra said breaking off.
A moment later he got a location ping from him, with the symbol that meant ‘active firefight,’ and the transport was nowhere close to them…
Gon’zu was one of many passengers inside the 540 meter long transport, yet he was the only one comparable to the Era’tran in size. Had he simply wanted them killed he wouldn’t have come, but if these two were from those that had stayed behind at the Zor’do then he needed to know what they knew, and retrieving information from a corpse was not easy. Not to mention it required equipment that he did not have. No, if they were to be taken alive he might have to get involved himself, and he couldn’t trust the troops he’d been assigned to get the job done when they were dying to keep the Era’tran alive.
The thing with killing Era’tran was you had to overwhelm them with targets. Send a few, or a single one to them and they were near impossible to defeat. But give them many small ones and while they killed some of them the others would get the job done, and his troops had a fair amount of experience in that department, though attrition kept the number of true experts to a minimum and he didn’t think they’d have the courage to not overuse their lethal weaponry only to disable when their own lives were on the line.
Gon’zu didn’t doubt their loyalty, just their nerve. One’s natural reaction when being killed was to strike back with as much force as possible, and that could not occur here. At least one of the Era’tran wore no armor and had a single forearm weapon. That would make for an easy target, and too much damage was a subjective thing. His troops were not issued stun weapons larger than a pistol, and very few of them. Those could not be effective against such a large beast as the Era’tran unless employed en mass…and Gon’zu didn’t have that luxury. He was going to have to injure the Era’tran into submission, and given their nature to fight to the death rather than succumb, he was probably going to have to personally end this fight with his own psionics…for even his own armor did not come standard equipped with stun weapons.
He already had troops in the field pursuing the Era’tran, and apparently they got to the scout’s location before his transport did, for he suddenly started getting combat reports from the location indicating that the scout was dead and they were engaged with Zen’zat on the ground in addition to the Era’tran.
That was acceptable, for there weren’t enough troops on the ground to actually win, but they could begin wearing the Era’tran down and plucking away the Zen’zat they had before he arrived to finish up, though he was mildly concerned that the scout hadn’t reported any Zen’zat. Was there a camouflaged outpost here with more firepower than he was anticipating?
There was another V’kit’no’sat operation going on nearby, outside his command, and he opened up a comm line to the gunship to inquire if they knew anything about the location ahead and if they could assist with the takedown of these Era’tran…but he got no response. After several attempts he wasn’t sure if they were just ignoring him or if that was actually a hostile craft, because its automated codes were all responding appropriately.
He used the transport’s sensors to zoom in on the gunship just before it dipped down into the treetops. Visuals showed some damage to the hull, so it was possible that the comm system was damaged. He didn’t know how likely that was, for he was not intimately familiar with the craft the Bo’ja used, but something about this did not feel right…and when the gunship rose up again and altered course towards the fight he wasn’t sure if they had heard him and didn’t respond or if something else was in play.
“Tag that gunship as an unknown unit,” he told his pilots. “They’re not responding to comms. Does it have enough weaponry to give us a problem if it turns out to be hostile?”
“It won’t get through our shields, but it has more firepower than we do,” one of the small, duck-billed biped pilots answered. “If it sticks around for a slugging match we’ll eventually win.”
“Good. Keep an eye on it,” he said, devouring every snippet of information coming back to him from the troo
ps on the ground. A few more minutes and they’d be at their landing zone, so he mentally activated his gauntlets and donned his own armor to match the infantry that were already fully suited up and standing shoulder to shoulder around him in the main deck. Not quite enough to make it crowded, for they could have included more…if he had them. As it was, these were all but a handful of the troops that assaulted the Zor’do. A few stayed there to continue investigating and guard the facility, but he’d pulled everyone else on this hunting mission. He couldn’t afford to have it go wrong, one way or another.
He was convinced there was something special about that Zor’do, but the only ones who knew what it was were either dead or on the run ahead of him. He couldn’t afford to waste his infantry assets, so grouping them together was the logical move. Spread them out and his casualties would increase. Focused operations in force were the mathematically most viable option for hunting missions…and fortunately he had the assets available for this one while most combat on the planet had devolved down to single units out hunting and engaging each other far from the fortified cities.
But then the gunship arrived at the battle site a few minutes ahead of them, and it started pouring firepower down into the jungle as Gon’zu railed at them on the comm that he wanted the Era’tran taken alive…but there was no response or alteration in course as tree after tree was obliterated from above with who knew what damage was being done to the Era’tran below.
“Abort the landing,” he ordered. “Take us directly into the path of that gunship!”
7
Tu’vac lay on the floor of the tent, his mind locked in a loop that would not break. His body was not taut, for there was no malfunction there. It was just waiting for his brain to do something other than hold position, so it appeared he was sleeping when in fact he was awake and trying to rethink the same thought over and over again without it coming to conclusion.
That’s where his conscious mind was, but his subconscious was still functioning and he was aware of what was happening around him. He couldn’t use Pefbar, but he could hear the sound of weaponsfire, feel the pounding of the ground every time the healer took a step outside, and he could see the inside of the tent through his open eyes that would not move off one spot.
He could also feel when a Dre’mo’don shot burned through the tent wall and hit him in the back just above his tail. The pain, combined with what part of his combat reflexes were not locked down, jolted him out of his mind freeze as two more shots came through and hit him in the torso.
Tu’vac reached for…something. Some psionic that wasn’t there that he needed, pushing against the barrier in his mind that would not relent, then as a fourth shot hit him in the chest as he rolled up to his feet he lashed out at the blockage in his mind. Rage more than purpose, spite over logic. It was his enemy as much as those shooting at him, and he had to destroy it.
He pushed hard, in as many was as he could, not understanding what he was doing but doing everything he could on instinct. It felt like the pressure in his body was building to a point it would pop his head off…then something did pop. The pressure flowed up and into his head, with Tu’vac falling back to the floor in exhaustion as a 5th shot came through and hit him just above the knee. All were tearing away flesh from his body, but he had so much mass a single shot could not kill him unless it hit him in the eye socket or other vulnerable spot.
Tu’vac crashed down, his head hitting the floor externally while internally a cool sensation moved from the base of his spine up through his brain eating away at the blocks gradually, as if it were a chunk of ice melting away. His body felt like it was deflating in the process, but he didn’t fight it. He pushed harder, making it melt faster…until the last bit in his mind disappeared and he passed out.
More shots came through the tent, a few of which hit him and drew more purple blood leaking down out of the cauterized wounds, then suddenly he woke, not knowing where he was or what was happening.
He stood up, his Pefbar pushing out beyond the tent to see what was there as another shot came through and hit him in his left hip. The Era’tran snarled, realizing he was not armored yet in the middle of battle, and activated his Nakane, catching the next two shots on his biologically generated shields as he stormed out the closed door and into the dim jungle undergrowth just before a portion of that canopy was blown apart as aerial fire fell down on the infantry that were taking shots at him.
He did not recognize them, but there was a wounded female Era’tran on the ground to his left with one arm missing…and laying beside her was that arm with a damaged weapon still attached to it. Further off was a downed Zen’zat, and the weaponsfire coming into the jungle from above was originating from a Zen’zat gunship…which made who was friend and foe here clear.
His body was weak beyond measure, and he did not remember how it had gotten so, but he was within range of a good portion of the scattering infantry that focused their firepower on him while taking cover behind various trees…but they couldn’t hide from his Pefbar, and with a thought three of them were lifted off their feet and pulled out into the air and towards him. Two he brought forward into his claws, which glowed to life cherry red and slashed through their armor as if it were nothing more than clothing. The third he threw to the ground in front of him and smashed underneath his left foot, not caring for the gouges the broken armor made in his flesh as it cracked under the pressure.
Weak armor. Zen’zat armor would have held against that, so he didn’t have to add any attack afterwards, for the occupant was now mashed gore. The Era’tran ground him in more as he launched himself into an awkward run as he reached out into the attackers’ minds to get a feel for them, only to be surprised when he found them vulnerable. These were not infantry capable of taking down an Era’tran, let alone a Hakja.
He felled dozens of them in one attack, rendering them unconscious then pulling their loose weaponry from them through the air and wadding it up in ball that he crunched down into a sphere, then he opened his mouth and out came a plume of plasma that melted the weapons beyond repair. He tossed the molten bits to the side, starting a small fire where they hit dry brush, but the rest of the infantry did not take the hint and continued to fire at him.
His bioshields would not last forever, and they were underpowered to start with. He did not know what had happened to him, but his combat fitness was shot. He took a moment to try and remember, but was distracted as a much larger ship flew overhead and began exchanging fire with the gunship.
The Era’tran pulled another two infantry to him and sliced them apart as he tried to use his Ikrid to reach the Zen’zat in the gunship and the crew of the Kardopa…only to realize that the transport had no Zen’zat in it. Their minds were all accessible, though one was much stronger than the others.
What is the nature of this combat? he demanded of the Zen’zat in the gunship as the transport physically bumped it away from its perch firing down on the remaining infantry.
You are in danger. They are here to kill you.
Mario’topa? he asked, recognizing the mind. What is going on?
What…you remember me?
Why would I not? the Era’tran said as he pulled in another of the enemy infantry and decapitated him with one clean claw slice, diminishing the drain on his bioshields a bit more. Answer me. I need to know who to strike.
The Zen’zat are loyal. The others are invaders. You are on Holloi, and we have been invaded by the Zak’de’ron. These are their servants. Run while we cover you.
An anger he had never known before billowed over in him. The thought of Holloi being invaded was insulting and infuriating, but to be told it was the Zak’de’ron doing it…that generated a level of ire beyond words.
The Era’tran grasped one of the infantry so hard he didn’t even need to pull, merely wrenching his head around so that his armor popped a moment before his spine did…then his head flew off into the brush as his body dropped, making it impossible for his armor to heal him,
though he doubted it had that technology given how feeble it was.
A Jumat orb wrinkled the light over his head, and his bioshields dropped a moment as he released it upwards into the Kardopa. It slammed into them, not jolting the large ship but eating away at its own shields there, and to his credit Mario’topa targeted that precise location and gutted one of the transport’s weapon batteries during the momentary shield disruption.
Why should I run from this filth? he demanded.
You have your psionics back? Mario’topa asked in disbelief.
What has happened to me? he asked, but he didn’t get an answer, for the holds of the transport suddenly opened and hundreds of more infantry dropped down into the trees along with one larger individual that he recognized as a Pak’lem, one of the more formidable Zak’de’ron slaves.
They are here to kill you and you have no armor. Run!
Are there more than this coming?
No, but…
Then we stand here, he said, trying to use his Ikrid on the surrounding troops but failing. As he expected, the Pak’lem was using its Va’do, which created a jamming field in a radius around his body. And as the Era’tran reached out with his Lachka once again he found it slipping and then gone as the Pak’lem caught up to the nearby troops and shielded them with its Da’nu that created a Pefbar blackout, and what he couldn’t feel with Pefbar he couldn’t touch with Lachka.
That meant his telepathy and telekinesis were no longer available to him, and for other Era’tran that would have been problematic without armor, but he had more psionics than most.
He moved to the left and hacked away with his claws at a thick tree trunk, then pushed it over to form a barrier on his left flank with the wounded Era’tran behind him. It was thicker than most of their infantry was tall, and as they moved in from that side they had to jump up on top of it…which he was waiting for. If they had Pefbar, then they would be as blind as he was in the presence of the Pak’lem, so they didn’t see his tail whipping around in a circle as they climbed up on top.
