Dear Journal,
I am xeno King Arthur.
Except I have an alien lava scimitar instead of some piddly steel sword.
So I’m pretty sure I win.
But at the same time, fuck my life.
Again.
I woke up, which is more than I had assumed I would manage when I had gone to sleep. I think I remembered something about the human body only being able to survive 3 days or so without water, and by my estimate I had been in that escape pod with Captain Roids for a good decade, so pretty close to the 3 day mark unless I missed my guess by much. Once I had woken up, however, any expectations I had had from that point on went out the window.
First of all, I was on a ship, but not a ship I recognized. I was pretty proud of myself that I could recognize the humming of a FTL drive without even trying. What can I say? I’m a quick study when it comes to street smarts. The only problem was that this ship which I didn’t recognize did have some rather disturbing similarities to another kind of ship I’d seen only in the movies. A troop transport. From what I could see of it the ship appeared to be merely one massive room, divided into sections with half-walls. Each of these sections contained 10 bunk-beds, most of which were occupied by aliens of all shapes and sizes, each wearing nearly the exact same thing. Well, not the exact same thing, since the participating species couldn’t seem to agree on the correct number of arms or legs or, in a few cases, heads, but the clothes were the same color at least.
Those clothes were a black shirt and red pants, and I have to say, it was pretty sharp. At least, it would have looked sharp if it weren’t for the numerous sweat stains and the fact that not everyone seemed to be wearing a shirt, but at least the potential was there. I had bigger problems other than the blatant fashion crimes taking place right in front of me, like where was I and why hadn’t I been given such a dapper uniform. I could have pulled if off better than half of the xenos there.
Then the thing I’d been trying to ignore hit me like a fly on the windshield of a Japanese bullet train. I was on a troop transport. I was on a troop transport! I was a troop being transported! Will Smith’s voice entered my mind, helping me out with the words I couldn’t properly say. “Aw Hell no!” I couldn’t be drafted into the army! I had won! I had beaten back the evil lizard-ants and had even managed to survive getting hit by 1 and a half of those anti-tank rounds, and now I wasn’t even allowed to go back and be adored as a hero again? I had just started being able to talk to Mama too! Really! Who did I piss off so badly upstairs that they wouldn’t even let me do a victory lap once I had done the right thing!
It’s fine, I’m good, I’m not mad. I just need to take a deep breath and calm down. I’m going to be fine. How bad could it be, anyway? I was alive, which is always a good start, and they had given me a bed, which meant they could see right off the bat that I was sapient, which was better than could have been said for the experience I had endured last time I had awoken on an unfamiliar ship. It wasn’t like the blue-giraffes had been my home, anyway. I was trying to get to my real home, and if this way was faster than I embraced it. I’m ok. I really am. Deep. Breaths.
As I wasn’t dead I could assume my new hosts, whoever they were, were friendly, or, at least, non-hostile. They had even given me my new alien lava scimitar and its sheath! They weren’t studying me like Dick and Shifty had wanted to, either. What did they want from me then? I knew it looked like a troop transport, so maybe they wanted me to be a cook? Perhaps a worker? I didn’t exactly know on what level these aliens waged war, so I could be something as preposterous as a trench digger, although that would suck to an endless degree. But regardless of what role they wanted me to fulfill, why would they have given me a bunk with the rest of the soldiers?
My eyes fell upon the lava scimitar again. Oh. No. You have GOT to be kidding me! Seriously? They wanted me to be a soldier? It’s not like I wouldn’t make a damn fine one if the soldiers were anything like the xenos I’d fought so far, but the powers that were had no way of knowing that! What kind of idiot would draft someone they found, metaphorically speaking, on the side of the road and just decide “Yeah, he looks kind of mean, he’d make a great addition to our army.” “But sir” the other guy would say, “He’s drunk and passed out and sleeping in a pile of his own feces. And look, there’s a dead guy right next to him. It looks like he just up and murdered that lizard-ant with a sword. You want that in our ranks?” and then the commander would just smile as he slowly nodded, murmuring “He’s perfect.” Who does that? I can tell you right now, no one in their right minds.
Maybe you’d do that to a guy if you were going to training. I mean, I had been in a pretty bad shape, and if someone had offered to let me join the army or stay in my pod with Roids I would have taken up arms right there, but I obviously wasn’t on my way to training. The aliens around me moved with too much confidence. It wasn’t bravado. They were just sure of themselves. They each looked like a fit specimen of their own species, and the way in which they handled themselves as they moved spoke of training and discipline. I also saw quite a few weapons out of weapons lockers and in the hands of their owners, so that might have helped out my observations as well, just a little.
My brooding was interrupted when a sound issued from the top bunk of the bed I was sitting on. From over the side a long, thin face with orange skin and what looked like a multitude of warts poked into my view. It had slits for pupils in its red eyes, and I have to say that I probably would have peed a little if I’d any water to pee. It said something, and I was almost relieved that it wasn’t a bunch of unintelligible clicks. If I closed my eyes I could almost believe that it was some language from earth that I didn’t know, rather than an alien tongue. This was encouraging, since it meant that I actually had a chance at some basic communication with this guy, so long as I was going to be spending a good deal of time with this guy, which I had a feeling I was.
The reason I’d never tried learning any of the blue-giraffe’s words was because I physically couldn’t. I didn’t think they were even able to talk in the same way I was, and I knew they had made several sounds which I would have been hard pressed to replicate. I couldn’t have even told them my name, since it would have just sounded like grunts to them. But this guy knew I was sapient and had similar vocal chords to me. My time here was already off to a better start than it ever had before. I still couldn’t understand what he said, though. Where was a Yoda when you needed one?
He seemed frustrated that I couldn’t understand him, but at the same time as though he had confirmed something. He hopped down from the bed, where I could see the rest of him. He was about 50 centimeters taller than me, and a good deal thinner. He had five legs and 4 arms, but a normal sized neck and, as I had noticed before, orange skin. The warts also seemed to be a general skin feature as well. Poor bloke. He spoke to me again, but this time as though one with the understanding that I couldn’t speak his language and vice versa. Using all four hands to motion towards himself, he said one word. “Manthlel.” Dang it! Now it would have been rude to call him Toad. I was pretty proud of that one too; it was one of my best. Better than Warty, at least. Fine, I guess I could call him by his real name. I might as well get the pronunciation correct as well. “Manth . . . lel?” I said, looking to him in askance. He nodded which I hope meant the same thing to him as it did to me. Confirming it once more in my mind I said it again. “Manthlel.”
Now it was my turn. I learned my lessons well, and I remembered clearly the words my mother had said to me when I was just a boy. “Son,” she said, “Never give your name to a stranger you have just met on the street. School is fine, but outside of school, and to people who aren’t your own age, they don’t need to know your name, and if they ask, just tell them something else.” Well I sure as heck wasn’t in school, and I had no idea how old this guy was, so I wasn’t giving him my name no siree. I decided not to lie to him, however. Lying is wrong, that’s another thing Mother said. Gesturing to myself in the same way he had – except with only two arms – I told him as much as I was willing. “Human.” He mouthed the word several time, then said it back to me in the same way I had when I’d heard his name. “HUman. HumAN. HUman.” I gave him a thumbs up without thinking. Then he reciprocated the gesture.
It was so unexpected that I burst out laughing. I hadn’t seen such a human gesture in so long it felt like I’d gone in for a brofist and he’s returned one with a secret handshake. He smiled at my mirth, or maybe he was getting ready to rip my throat out since I had insulted his ancestress with my laughter or something, I don’t know. He didn’t attack, so I guess smiles meant the same thing to him as they did to me. I was so happy with the progress I’d already made. “Manthlel, you’re already a better friend than any alien I’ve ever met. Just don’t try to feed me lettuce or lock me into my bunk and we’ll be off to a good start. As it is though, you don’t happen to have any purple xeno pig rats do you? I’m starving and I would love some if you happen to have any.” Apparently he didn’t, but he had something even worse than lettuce it seemed.
He took me over to what looked like a bird feeder in the back wall of our cubicle which was also the hull of the ship. In the little bucket, which appeared to be the end of a chute that disappeared into the wall and an area unknown, was a multitude of grey spheres each slightly smaller than my fist. I looked at Manthlel and the spheres, nonplussed. He motioned towards the spheres. I continued to stare at him. Exasperated, he picked one up and bit into it. It looked like it had the constancy of bread dough. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Lettuce is what I’m craving right now. Please?” Manthlel just stared at me, encouraging me to take one of the spheres. I was starving, and there seemed to be nothing else, so I picked one up and took a bite.
It tasted like nothing. Not the nothing of water, which is actually something, or the nothing of cucumbers bought from Walmart; this was literally nothing. I had been right about the texture though. It was the feeling of bread dough in my mouth with absolutely nothing registered by my tongue except that there was indeed some form of matter in my mouth. It was disgusting, but at the same time, palatable. I ate it, and it seemed my body was in the mood for food more than it was for satisfying my craving for something with a taste. I ate another one. They were actually filling, despite their size. Still, they were about as large as a small apple, and I hadn’t eaten in days. After the first two I guessed how many I would eat and grabbed six more.
After I had as many as I thought was reasonable I looked back up at Manthlel. He was gaping at me, mouth open significantly wider than I thought his jaw should have been able to go. In fact, I think he had disconnected it like a snakes, and it was quite a horrifying site. I swore and backed away from him, but he just continued to stare. I looked around at the other aliens in our cubicle. I don’t think they had noticed me until now, but they were staring at me with similar expressions as Manthlel. I looked and saw that most of them were holding partially dissembled spheres, except not a one held more than three. “What, I’m hungry!” I protested, “Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful.”
Oblivious to how rude their fat shaming was, they continued to stare. I pointedly ignored them and sat down to enjoy my quite literally tasteless meal. I had been very accurate with my guess and felt contentedly full when I had finished off the last of my spheres. I looked up, and sure enough, each and every one of the men – some might have been women – were watching at me, even more shocked than before if that was possible. It seemed like a couple aliens from adjacent cubicles had come to stop and stare as well.
I decided to just ignore the haters, and moved back to the wall where I thought I recognized a tap similar to the one that had been in my cargo bay all that time ago when I had thought I was going to stay there for longer than about an hour. I remembered how Dink had worked it – dang I hoped the kid was alright – and was rewarded by a steam of water running into a trough in the wall next to the sphere depository. The moment my lips touched the water I realized how thirsty I was and drank for nearly two minutes, taking just enough time between drinks to breath and make sure I didn’t puke. They were still staring when I got up and wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do?!”
It seemed they did, because no sooner had I spoken than an electric buzzer sounded throughout the ship, pausing everyone in their movements. It was eerie. Everyone in the entire ship, it seemed, stood still a moment as the buzzer sounded. Then a collective deep breath ran through the entire ship, as though it was time to face the inevitable. When everyone started moving again, it was with a new sense of purpose, of things to do that could be put off no longer. All the soldiers in my cubicle, or squad I guessed, took out guns from storage bins in their bunks, checking over them with a practiced and efficient ease, although I’m pretty sure I’d seen most of them checking the same weapons only a few minutes before. Combat-harnesses were being donned, and I had the distinct feeling that I was missing out on some serious preparation. The purpose with which everyone was moving did nothing to assuage the fear that was slowly rising in my chest.
Manthlel, quickly got on his gear, then motioned for me to follow him. We walked a short distance to a small booth in the middle of the hall between all of the cubicles. He punched a few keys on a console and a mechanism within the booth clanked and ground as it responded to Manthlel’s request. A gun and a combat-harness were presented by two mechanical arms which came out of the booth. Manthlel grabbed the gun and harness and handed them to me. I knew how to put on the harness, but I think the ray gun was broken. It was all bent up as though for storage, and it didn’t look as though it was supposed to be able to be reconfigured. When I had grabbed the handle and nothing had happened, Manthlel also seemed confused. I looked up when someone else approached the booth, getting out of the way. This new arrival just needed a gun, and when his new weapon was presented to him, similarly bent as mine, he confidently grasped it about the handle and walked away content. I could see why. The moment his hand grasped the thing it seemed to melt and fold upon itself, reconfiguring itself until it seemed to have been custom built for that particular alien.
“Ah.” I said, understanding. “The computer doesn’t know what kind of creature I am, so it doesn’t know how to change to my physiology, and I doubt it’d even let me fire it if it did.” Manthlel seemed to have reached the same conclusion, but he looked a little more put out than I did about it. I tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry about it man, I don’t need a gun anyway. It’d just cramp up my style. All I need is the lava scimitar I got back at my bunk and I’ll be good.” Manthlel didn’t seem convinced. Ok, he just hadn’t understood a word I had said, but even if he had I doubt he would have been convinced. There was nothing we could do, though, so we walked back to our cubicle where I slung the lava scimitar’s sheath over my back, where it fit surprisingly well. I was lucky I still had the sheath, or else I wouldn’t have had a way to turn the thing on or off since it wasn’t genetically sequenced to me like the last one had. Too bad Dick wasn’t here to do that for me. Did I just wish Dick was here? Must have been my imagination.
After everyone in the squad had had time to check their gear and suit up, one of the members, who was perhaps the most fit blue-giraffe I had ever seen, stood up and started delivering a speech or a pep-talk to the group. I hope it was really inspiring, because I missed every word. Guess I’ll never know what was said.
“Reports say the battle’s already underway on Helictor-4, and is going badly,” said Trxcl, giving his usual pre-battle rundown. “It seems that the main offensive line broke and is now fragmented over an area of about 4 bortos (8 kilometers). We’ll be dropping into the thick of it. There have also been unconfirmed sightings of a Vulza, so keep your eyes open. Our squad as well as a few hundred others have been tasked with picking up those we can find of the first offensive and then bring them back to base. We’ll be moving in a roaming defensive circle formation. I don’t want anyone breaking away and looking for their own glory. If we see a Vulza, I want an orderly retreat with covering fire in a layered switchback. Any survivors we find are to be returned to the landing zone and then we’ll go back for more. This is a pack-fight like most of what we’ve dealt with, so any enemies we come across will likely be in groups of ten. The skirmishes will be quick and brutal. Any questions?
“What does Human do? He doesn’t have a gun, and he didn’t understand a word you said.” Manthlel probably should have kept his mouth shut, but he wasn’t going to let Human die because he hadn’t been willing to risk Trxcl’s momentary anger.
“If he stays out of the way I don’t care what he does. If he starts tripping us up I’ll shoot him myself. Any other questions?” Trxcl glared at Manthlel, daring him to ask another. Manthlel silently promised Human that he would protect him and keep him from getting in the way.
“Good,” snorted Trxcl. A klaxon sounded. “Get to our dropship then. You know the drill.”
Manthlel swallowed as he strapped himself into the dropship’s harness. Human seemed to have just realized something and was gibbering away excitedly. What was he on about? He better not be about to puke up the massive amount of nutrient spheres he had eaten. Manthlel guessed he would never find out, for at that moment the transport dropped out of hyperspace and into the middle of the part of the battle that was being waged above Helictor-4. The ship began to shake as its shields began absorbing shots. Trxcl’s squad didn’t get to feel the punishment the ship was taking for long, because soon after dropping out of hyperspace their shuttle shot out of the troopship’s bay and began the long decent towards the planet’s surface.
Things had gotten worse. A lot worse. I know I should have put 2 and 2 together. I mean, everyone had been suiting up for battle, what should I have thought was going to happen? It still didn’t seem real though, as I strapped myself into a seat next to Manthlel. I mean, I had woken up about 2 hours ago, had my first real meal in 3 days in half that time, and was now about to enter battle against an unknown enemy fighting for an unknown cause over an unknown planet. With all those unknowns combined, I was feeling rather confused, and it didn’t help when the shuttle I was in shot out of the troop ship like a bullet and turned its nose towards the planet beneath us. At first I had a horrible feeling as I thought the planet was Earth. Then I checked the continents and couldn’t recognize any of them, but it still looked a lot like earth. Maybe smaller, but there was no way I could be certain.
My discomfort with the current situation was only increased when shuttles on every side of ours started exploding. Every time one of them decided to see how life was as a fireball our shuttle would rock ominously, and the entire way down to the planet I was clutching my harness, white knuckled and sweating. We made it, though I don’t know how. When the shuttle doors opened, I wished we were back up in space. At least it had seemed cleaner up there.
Bodies were everywhere. Eviscerated, exploded, dismembered, you name it, it appeared down there in one form or another. I know war on Earth is terrible, but at least battlefields don’t look like the only form of firearm used on either side was some form of artillery. If someone was dead, then they were the kind of dead that left you unrecognizable. My squad seemed to know what they were doing, however, and they ran out of the dropship, formed a circle, and began trotting towards an area in the distance where the discharge of weapons could be seen. I followed after them, not wanting to get in the way. Manthlel seemed to approve of my position, because he gave me another thumbs up; I am glad I taught him that gesture. I sent one right back at him and he fell back into formation.
My first pitched battle was actually pretty boring for the first thirty minutes or so. We didn’t come across anyone. Really, it seemed like the dropships could have maybe dropped us a little closer to the actual battle. As it was we seemed about 4 kilometers distant from where the fighting was actually taking place. As we got closer, I could see that the fighting was more like a pack-fight instead, with small groups, each about the size of our squad, fighting each other whenever they met an enemy squad. It didn’t look like there was any overshadowing strategy at all, just a bunch of groups gotten together and then told to fight. I was starting to like my position in this army less and less.
I was dragged out of my musings as our group stumbled upon what I guess was an enemy group. Honestly, I couldn’t tell. The enemy group was composed of an assortment of aliens like our own, carrying guns identical to ours, wearing combat-harnesses identical to ours. The only difference was they were wearing white shirts and brown pants underneath their armor. Their group started shooting at our group, however, and my squad reciprocated, so I guess we were at war with them. Not needing any more instruction I drew my lava scimitar – it was even cooler with a curved blade – and leap-flew towards the enemy.
The first ric (30 minutes) after landing was uneventful. The dropship had been blown somewhat off course and had landed 2 bortos (4 kilometers) from where the rest of the ships had landed. Manthlel wasn’t eager to fight though, and the problem was, everyone knew it. Manthlel was a plital. A coward. He should have been dead. His old squad had been completely annihilated when a Vulza, which no one had known was in the battle, had suddenly descended upon the battle that Manthlel’s squad and the Dominion had thought was a victory in their favor. The appearance of the Vulza turned that around. Within a single ric (30 minutes) the Dominions forces had been in full retreat. Manthlel’s squad had been gladly following those orders when the Vulza had decided upon his squad as its next target. Their commander, Crimol, had told his squad to fight and hold as long as possible so that others could get away. Manthlel had taken one look at the creature, and then he had run. Run away from the screams of his friends. Run from the Crimol’s curses. Run from his duty. He hated himself.
What was worse, he had lived to tell the tale. The Dominion was losing, although it didn’t want to admit it, and was desperate for trained soldiers. Manthlel had been reassigned to a new squad to fill up some of the holes in the paperwork, but Manthlel knew it was a good as a death sentence. The men of his new squad hated him, just as he did himself, and he knew that if he ever got in trouble, he wouldn’t be able to count on any help from his team.
Fate, it seemed, didn’t care about Manthlel’s wishes. After a short time jogging, Trxcl’s encountered their first enemy squad. It was an ambush. One moment they were jogging towards where they could see pulse-gun fire, the next they were surrounded on all sides, confused and dazed as enemies appeared where only churned dirt had been before. There wasn’t a Vulza with them, however, as though Manthlel’s squad could have missed one of those and so Manthlel, perhaps not calmly, but steadily, aimed his gun and fired, concentrating his fire on one opponent at a time as he had been trained, trying to wear down his enemies personal shield. Manthlel never got the chance to finish. A blur of brown, whitish-orange, and glowing red flew towards the enemy with which Manthlel had been engaged. The blur shot passed the unfortunate soldier, who immediately stopped firing, which confused Manthlel, until he realized that the soldier had a glowing hole in his gut, left by a Fusion Scythe.
+Human?+
It was Human. Manthlel forgot about the enemy. Forgetting to keep his jaw connected for the second time that day as he watched in awe as the short, bipedal creature moved with the speed and deadly grace Manthlel had only ever seen in a Vulza. Human seemed just about as deadly. Jumping from one enemy to the other, he stabbed, sliced, and chopped his way through the ambush which would most likely would have cost Trxcl half his men if it weren’t for the intervention. Only after a third of their men were dead did the rest of the members of the ambush even realize that they were quickly taking casualties. All fire turned against Human. Nearly all of them missed, and the few that did hit were absorbed harmlessly by his combat-harness. How would they have hit something like that anyway? He changed directions so suddenly and with such precision that the only way to hit him was to shoot all around him and then some.
The enemy squad was dead in perhaps a ri (1 minute). The surviving squad was silent for about that long as well. Manthlel found himself silently laughing as he remembered his promised to protect Human in this upcoming battle. Human had probably just saved his life, and it was only the first conflict of the battle.
“Well.” Trxcl spoke slowly into the silence. “I don’t know what your new bunkmate’s on, Manthlel, but I’ll have some of whatever he’s having.”
This battle was intense. Not in the same way my previous alien battles had gone. Those had actually contained more action than any of the fights I was finding down here. No, it was intense because they just kept coming. I’d kill off one group – my squad was basically just letting me do my thing at this point – rest for about half a minute, then run into another enemy squad. I was exhausted. My jumps were a mere three meters now, and were significantly slower. During the last few skirmishes my squad had even managed to take care of a few enemies before I had been able to attend to them.
I found myself thinking these thoughts as I was wading my way through another enemy squadron. I was rudely interrupted when my personal shield gave out and I received a shot to my heart. The worst thing was, I had a bruise there, or maybe it was several. If you’ve ever gotten a bruise after someone punched you, you’ll know how much those things smart. If you’ve ever been punched in that same bruise again, you know that the pain increases exponentially rather than linearly.
The pain focused me like nothing had that day, and I got a whole new burst of adrenaline. I was really starting to rely on that so that I could just feel normal. I hacked the head off of the offending alien, whipping my sword around to slash the legs off of another xeno behind me. He fell on top of me, which was rude, but at least that gave me something to throw at one of his companions that was a little further than I wanted to run. Really, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was in a battle, I probably would have been pretty bored. I took a few more hits, which hurt, but I got through that squad just fine with only a little help from my friends. Hey, at least they were good for something.
Manthlel had been worried Human’s personal shield for the past few ris (few minutes). It had taken quite a few hits despite his blinding speed, and it wouldn’t hold out forever. Just as he had feared, during the middle of another skirmish, Human’s shield took one too many hits too fast. It collapsed, and a final shot found its way through the chaos Human had created in the enemy’s midst and hit him in the upper chest.
+Fuck, and here I had thought I might get through this battle unscathed. You fought beyond belief, little Human. You won’t be forgotten+
Manthlel hiked his gun back into position and continued firing. That’s when he noticed that Human wasn’t dead. He was in fact, very much alive.
+But, his shield went down! I saw it fail! Didn’t I?+
As Manthlel watched, Human was hit once again, but aside from momentarily causing him to stumble, it seemed to have no more effect on him than it would have against a Vulza.
+What is this creatur- Fuck! Not again!+ His jaw was really getting on his nerves today. Trxcl was shaking his head, muttering something about “what he’s having”. Cresh, one of the three heavies in the squad, hiked his anti-tank gun on his shoulder and blew out a long breath. “I don’t know what hellhole he came from, but Human fights like a Vulza, just smaller.”
“And fewer teeth.” Piped in Yicka, the squad grenadier.
“And fewer scal-” Rekt, another heavy, was cut short as the object of their jests suddenly decided to remind them of the reason it deserved their respect.
I admit it. I had said that the battle was getting bored. Why I ever let such an idiot statement into my head I have no idea, but I paid for it dearly.
Dragons are real. Check that. Space dragons are real, and they’re every bit as terrifying as they are in the stories.
I guess I’d better specify which stories. Not the Inheritance Cycle, because dragons aren’t magical and don’t talk inside your head. Not Game of Thrones, because these dragons actually show up. Not Dragon Tales, because . . . just . . . not Dragon Tales. We’re talking the original dragons, like the dragon from King Arthur and the Dragon. The kind of dragon that’s basically just a massive killing machine covered in scales stronger than steel. There’s none of that wisdom or magic shit. Just claws, teeth, and a whole lot of speed. And I was staring at one.
First of all I couldn’t believe it. Here? In this world of fragile beings who were slow, weak, and couldn’t make a serious ray-gun to save their life? Then I hoped it was like the rest of the life I had seen so far, until it jumped the 20 meters between it and our squad with the lithe grace of a pouncing tiger and in about half the time. I barely jumped out of the way, and I mean barely. When I landed I was covered in dirt thrown up by the dragon as its claws gauged massive grooves into the earth where I had been standing before. Another one of it’s claws gouged the earth at one of my squad mates feet as well, except he hadn’t had the foresight to jump out of the way like I had. Shit.
My squad started running as a disorderly mob, and I would have joined them. But I didn’t. I can’t explain it, but I felt protective of them. Even though I’d just met them, they seemed like children to me. They were slow, clumsy, and seemingly new to war, at least war as even I had seen it through my second hand experience. I couldn’t run. That would be abandoning them. This dragon was a being like me, at least as far as my new wards were concerned. Both of us were creatures of death. Faster, stronger, and harder than they could ever hope to be, sweeping away their greatest defenses as though they were merely air. Unstoppable. How could I run away from this foe? I was their only chance. I was their monster from hell. I guess it had only been a matter of time before I met another one.
I turned to face the dragon, raised my scimitar, bellowed a challenge, and charged.
Manthlel was crying. Not because of fear, but out of shame. He was doing it again. He was running from a foe that he couldn’t beat because he was afraid, even though his sacrifice might have meant the difference between the life or death of another. He had been given a second chance to redeem himself, and he was making the same mistake. This was why his tears streamed as he ran. Because he was a coward.
A sound like nothing he had ever heard before stopped Manthlel dead in his tracks. It wasn’t actually all that uncommon. It was just a yell. The battle field was filled with those, dripping with them, stained with them. The screams of the dying would haunt this battle field for days after the fighting was over. So why was this yell different? Manthlel looked to its source and saw why.
It was Human, charging the Vulza, Fusion Scythe raised above his head, challenging it in the very moment it was victorious. The rest of the squad, which Manthlel could now see had been running as well, watched in shock as the small alien charged the beast that could not be killed. The yell was different because it was an order. The shouts that filled the battle field were pleas for a savior and cries for release. The screams of the dying and doomed. This was a command. An order directed at everything in its path. A demand that every obstacle bend before it. A promise to anything that wouldn’t bow. An assurance of destruction.
The challenge shook Manthlel to his core, bringing hope where there had once been fear. The fear was still there, and in great abundance. But it was no longer the fear of a frightened creature struggling to deny the inevitable. It was the fear of a man who was fighting for the right to continue to live. Manthlel soon found himself giving voice to the shout as well, turned around, and charged back the way he had come. The squad followed suit. It was a good thing they did. Human was having problems.
I may have been a creature from hell compared to your standard alien, but even as much as I outclassed them, this thing outclassed myself even more so. What had I expected, it was a M—–f—ing Space Dragon (I respect my mother and you should too)! I’m lucky I hadn’t jump attacked it, or else it would have swatted me out of midair and that would have been the end of my defiance. It swung it’s left forelimb at me, which I ducked. It recovered instantly and jumped at me, attempting to crush me through shear force of impact. I dived to the side, but it clipped my legs and sent me spinning into the ground. I hit hard, feeling the vibrations in the ground as it landed, spun around and charged me, preparing to finish the job. I knew I was about to die, but who knows, maybe I still had luck. I tried my best move and rolled. It worked. The dragon ate a mouthful of dirt as it closed it’s maw about the ground where I had been moments before.
The problem after you roll is that you have to stop rolling eventually and take the time to get up. This dragon wasn’t going to give me that time. I finished my role, and could see its clawed foot rushing down to greet me. Fuck.
I was blown out of the way of the dragon’s strike by an unknown force. Actually, I’d felt that before. Someone had shot me out way of imminent death with an anti-tank pulse-gun. At least, they’d shot the ground right next to me, which was enough to send me flying several meters out of the dragons reach. It hadn’t come quite fast enough, though, and the dragon’s claws left three red gashes across my back. This was the first time an enemy had made me bleed, and I got to say, it scared the shit out of me, and hurt me more than anything I’d felt in space combat so far.
My new friends were helping me, and boy did I need it. Unfortunately, aside from the helpful push, I don’t think they were managing to do anything but annoy it. Their weapons were even more ineffectual against this beast than they were against me. Heck, I doubt they were even bruising it. It completely ignored them, jumping after me, the only real prey it had found this entire battle. I knew the feeling. As scared as I was, I’d never felt so exhilarated. Springing to my feet, I dashed to its side, ducking under its lunge and scoring a hit on its back leg. It swiped it’s tale at my feet, which was a really good move, because it worked, and I was on my back again for the second time in the fight.
It spun around, attempting to put me into the same position as before. I knew where that would lead, however, and instead curled up into a ball and somersaulted towards and under the beast, getting out of its immediate line of sight. This is how I know it wasn’t as sapient as dragons in modern stories, because if it had been intelligent it would have just smashed its body against the ground and me with it. Instead it whipped itself around like a cat trying to find the mouse it had just lost, by which time I’d gotten back to my feet and had leapt for its side. It turned into my strike, which meant I stabbed its shoulder rather than its lungs.
Roaring in pain and anger, the dragon snapped its body like a whip, dislodging me and my sword from its shoulder and throwing us 15 meters before we slammed into the ground. My trusty scimitar fell from my hand. Not so trusty after all I guess. I was exposed, out of position for a boost from anti-tank bro, and unarmed. Roaring in triumph the dragon leapt at me to finish the job. It pulled up short again, although more out of shock than anything else.
Human was down. He had lost his sword and seemed dazed from the colossal fall that should have killed him. The Vulza could see that it had won. Roaring in triumph it prepared to leap upon the exposed Human. Manthlel didn’t know what made him do it, but he was close enough, and he did. He took two quick steps and then hit the Vulza in the wounded shoulder with his gun. He didn’t even fire it; he just smacked the deep stab wound with his pulse-weapon, using one of the most advanced personal weapons as a club.
“Fight more than one of us!” He screamed. “C’mon, there’s more than just Human, fight all of us.” It actually worked. The Vulza recoiled, although it may have been in shock rather than pain. When Manthlel got a look at its eyes, he could tell that it absolutely was shock. Shock that such inconsequential a creature had dared to lay a finger upon its mighty side. Manthlel could also see that he was screwed.
Manthlel had distracted it, which was all I needed. He had also put himself within neck hugging distance of the dragon, which was not a good place for him to be. Dragon neck hugs can be lethal. I had regained my feet, and decided Manthlel could use a little boost of his own. Reclaiming my scimitar, I jumped four times to cover most of the distance, then dive tackled Manthlel. I think I broke three of his five legs on impact, but I was able to drag him five meters behind the dragon, which saved his life as the dragon closed its jaws over where Manthlel’s head had been. Pushing myself off of the now unconscious Manthlel, I faced the dragon again. We were both bleeding, tired – myself more so than it – and ready for this fight to be over. It jumped, unfurling its leathery wings unnecessarily, as it only had to cover a short distance. Screaming a challenge, I charged as well.
The dragon should have watched my hips, because hips don’t lie. It attacked with its head, thrusting it forward to sink its teeth into my soft flesh. My soft flesh wasn’t there. I had dived to the right on the final step of the charge, ending up next to the dragon’s now exposed neck. I plunged the sword as deep as I could into the back of the dragon’s skull. It convulsed, hitting me with its shoulder, ripping the sword from my grip, and throwing me another 7 meters. I have to confess; I landed in a bad way on that last throw, and blacked out on impact.