Symbiosis
Mantrid
Lockpick Join Date: 2003-12-07 Member: 24109Members
Lockpick Join Date: 2003-12-07 Member: 24109Members
<div class="IPBDescription">My First, be nice</div> *UPDATED, again*
I don't have to much yet, and the "chapters" are terribly short, but here is my fan-fic:
Symbiosis
One
Consciousness. I had been awoken, once again. And again, I must serve my duties. There is no one. There is no individual. There is only the Queen, and the Great Defense. We exist only to protect those who are higher from the invasion of the Terran forces.
We are their warriors, and without us they are nothing.
When these thoughts had finished running through my mind, I slowly stood up on my four claw-like legs. I had barely readjusted to living before I was told by my Maker what to do, and when to do it. Thankfully, it was simple: I was to kill, and I was to kill now.
I heard rubber on metal, and I scampered up the wall, and waited for the small blue-tipped growth in the corner to make me fade away. I readied myself to dive onto whoever came to hurt my Maker.
A man clad in green stepped through the door, and put his hand on some slime covering the wall.
?Oh man, I think I just lost my appetite??
Why must they constantly talk? As if I didn?t hear enough from all the life around me, they must chatter too. My head was always filled with a thousand voices: ?My Maker calls me?; ?Kill the intruders!?; ?Gorge! Restore my flesh!?; ?We need more builders.? It never ceased. Even the bacteria in the air hummed its own little song in my ear.
The man, who was blinded to our kind by the blue-tipped growth, didn?t see my Maker until he bumped into it. Then it called out with a long, bacterial scream. I leapt at his head, but I overshot. Tumbling down in front of him, my orange eyes met his blue visor. This rare moment of seeing your enemy face-to-face stopped us both. We looked, as if fascinated by the fact that, when you took away the commanders, the Makers, the bacteria and the nanites, this is what it all was.
Two soldiers on the battlefield, with nothing to lose but their lives.
Two
?Luxury Liner Odyssey, this is the TSA ship Rushmore, do you read me? We?ve picked up some readings that could indicate anomalous materials on the starboard bow of your ship. C?mon guys, pick up the phone?? Carl sighed. Why wouldn?t they respond? The first thing that came to mind was a Kharra infestation. But how could that be possible? They hadn?t been less than a few million miles from flagged sectors, and surely it would take some time for the Kharra to eliminate all the passengers aboard a Luxury Liner, even just one would be able to call for help.
?Well, Meyers?? said an annoyed Sergeant Sporiv.
?They aren?t responding, sir.? replied Carl. Sporiv made a sound that was rougher than a sigh, but not quite a grunt.
?Would you recommend that I send a boarding party??
?Well, my scanners can?t penetrate the hull, so if you choose to do so, I recommend lots of firepower, sir.?
?Meyers, I don?t have weapons just lying around on this ship. Do you know how long we?ve been floating around out here? Do you know how quickly weapons cease functioning?? They were rhetoric questions. Carl simply looked at his boots.
?In that case, sir, send only your most skilled men.?
?I intend to, Meyers, so get your armor on, and get in a pod, and get aboard that damn ship.? Carl stood up, and started towards the large armory protruding from the center of the room.
Three
I lunged. What else could I do? The Marine smacked me with the butt of his weapon, sending me flying across the room. I shook my head, ?spit? at him, and ran up the wall, towards an open vent. He opened fire, but I dodged each of his bullets. He had fire, I had the wind.
I slipped inside the opening in the wall, and began to crawl through the maze of pipes in the walls that held my Maker. The Marine looked around, panicked. Every soldier can only attack what he can see, be he Terran or Kharra. One of this Terran?s many shortcomings was that he could only see with his eyes. I saw with my eyes, ears and nose. My spit had given him away, and now I just needed the proper place to launch myself from.
He became more and more terrified, I could smell it. I threw myself at him, but he was ready. I felt cold nano-steel sink into my flesh. Pain spread through my body, but it emptied through my wound, leaving a familiar numbness. I knew what was next. I had died many times before, and I knew I would simply be reborn, again, and again, and again. This was my existence. An endless cycle of fear and pain. As my vision clouded, I wondered what I despised more; the helplessness, or the monotony.
Four
Carl grumbled as he slipped on armor, lagging behind his already prepared comrades.
?C?mon, Carl, how much longer is this gonna take?? Carl glared at O?Ster; he was tired of hearing such quips from him. Carl wasn?t afraid to admit to himself that he was jealous of Brian O?Ster. Not of his intellect, which was virtually non-existent, not of his strength, though that was worthy of envy. He coveted his rank.
?I?ll try and hurry, Corporal,? he said, through gritted teeth. True, it was merely one rank. But Carl knew he was supposed to have it. On the infested station known as Azure III, he had saved the lives of twenty-six colonists through careful planning. Brian, however, had chosen to empty a Heavy Machine-Gun on a group of aliens that were hardly considered threatening: six Gorges, a dead skulk, and two of what had been dubbed ?Movement Chambers?. He was promoted for ?averting what could have potentially become a probable disaster?. In fact, the only reason he hadn?t already educated Brian in the means of discovering all the places a Catalyst Pack should not fit into the body, was his step-sister, Carrie. She was intelligent, beautiful, and no interest in him whatsoever.
?Today, Carl?? Carl fastened the last strap on his boot, and stood up. Brian tossed him a Light Machine-Gun and a pistol, before motioning for him to move towards a transport pod. He stepped inside the small cone, and pulled the safety belt across himself.
The pod chimed in with a hollow, female voice. Carl wondered why every automated voice aboard every ship simply had to sound like a British woman.
?Welcome to the Mark IX TSA Transport Pod. Please fasten your safety belt. For your protection, do not eat, drink, or smoke inside the Pod,? at this point, one of the more annoying Marines put out his cigar on a nearby speaker. ?Thank you, and have a very safe day.? Within seconds, mechanical locks could be heard closing, and small fans that circulated air came to life inside the pod. The sounds of plasma being superheated and prepared for use in the engine resonated throughout the craft. Small puffs of Hydrogen were seen out the window, pushing the cone away from the ship. The thrusters came to life, and they began to approach the Odyssey.
Docking took only a few seconds. A Marine named John Kreig pushed the door leading into Odyssey open. A dank, slightly metallic smell filled their nostrils. Immediately, they knew what they were up against; they were here.
They climbed through the opening, but were unprepared for the seen that awaited them. They had seen what the Kharra can do to people, but never something like this. Bodies? hundreds of them. Men, women, and children littered the room. Some were ripped open. Some were incased in pulsing green goop, their skulls filled with this bacteria. The ship buckled, muffling the sounds of wings flapping nearby. Suddenly, they were bathed in a green gas that began to choke them. Krieg thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and opened fire, screaming ?Lerk!? Alas, his sight had betrayed him. The Lerk came from the opposite direction, and tore open his neck. Carl spun, and put four bullets through the horrid creature. It dropped to the ground, twitched, and was no longer a threat. Carl looked away from the corpse, and suggested that they continue to move. Brian nodded, and they collected their thoughts and headed for an archway.
Five
I was drifting. My mind was moving about the cosmos, waiting to be reincarnated where I was needed. This was the only time I truly valued. But suddenly, I felt a tug at my soul. I was rushed to a Maker in a place far, far away from anything I had ever seen. This place was strange; it was larger than any ship I had before encountered, and seemed almost elegant. Perhaps this was a place for recreation among the Terrans.
Then, I was forced into a body. I stood up, as I did every time, on my four claw-like legs, and surveyed my surroundings. There were tables about, and shattered glass. What looked like Terran bodies were sprawled all over the floor. Thoughts flooded into my mind, and suddenly I knew: this was our counter-attack. We were going to invade their space. My Maker told me to scout, it had felt that there were Marines aboard this ship. I took off down a hallway, mentally transmitting all I saw to my Maker, and, in turn, to my fellow soldiers. I passed by an undulating, black-tipped growth, and instantly felt more energetic. I wondered if my Maker could be wrong. I sensed no sign of the enemy. But instantly, I knew I was wrong.
The thoughts of a dying Lerk pierced my mind, and I knew where they were. I had to plan my attack carefully. My Maker told me to bait them, bring them to our spike-throwing growths. I chuckled, and went to find my hunters.
Six
?We need to contact the Rushmore? said a lone voice from the back of the squad.
?We will, once we find a place to, soldier,? Brian said, his voice echoing in the vast ballroom, ?When that Lerk died, it released a lot of spores, so the pod is pretty much useless. Meyers, you see any consoles up there?? Indeed, Carl had. However, it had a man sticking through it, and electricity occasionally jumped from a wire, to the corpse, and back to an adjacent wire.
?I don?t think we?ll get this one working?? he said.
?Aw, you can fix it Carl; you must have been doing something during college while we were all out on dates. C?mon, it?s just a broken computer.? It is true, Brian wasn?t smart. This ?computer? happened to be a highly complex piece of equipment that employed supercapacitors that could kill them all if a wire was crossed, not to mention the Phase LAN Connector, which, if treated to roughly, could cause a singularity cascade and neutralize all electric impulses in their brains.
?Fine.? Carl replied sharply, through gritted teeth, which is an act in itself that deserves recognition. He looked away, and removed the man?s body. He tapped a button on the side of his helmet, and his HUD began to provide diagrams to assist in his repairs.
It was a tangled mess. Carl was sure he had shorted out something, because sparks had flown when he connected what he thought to be two red wires, but was really a red wire and a white wire stained with blood. Carl thought best when he was tinkering with something. So, now he thought. He thought about his life. He thought about the Frontiersmen. He thought about smacking Brian with a pipe for the college comment.
?Corporal O?Ster! Another pod has docked. They didn?t know about the spores, so they?re hurt pretty badly. They were saying something, but I couldn?t make it out.?
?Well, get them in here, what are we paying you for? Who?s with them??
?Karson, Inta, Higgly, Sury, Kingston, and your sister.? Carl dropped his Welder. Loudly.
?Problem, Meyer??
?N-no sir?? How could he expect himself to work like this? He was nervous around women in general, and bringing the woman he pined after near him will he tried to make repairs was almost suicidal.
Brian grunted for three marines to assist in cleaning up the six new marines. The nodded, and went for their med-packs. All new it would take only a few seconds, but the six new marines looked like they were in a hurry.
?What?s with all of you?? Carrie answered her brother; ?The Rushmore has been compromised.?
?Compromised??
?Yes.?
?By what??
?Those?? she pointed at a Skulk climbing towards the squads along the ceiling.
Seven
I knew where I was going. My mind had been filled with the layout of the ship, and I could see what our territory was, and what was theirs. I chuckled to myself; their territory consisted of one corner of one room. This wouldn?t be too hard.
Old feelings returned, however, as I scampered along the walls. I had been contemplating my own existence. My purpose. In Terran terms, I was having a mid-life crisis. I knew I didn?t stand out in our ranks. I had never even been ordered by a Maker to assume a new form. It was always the same four clawed legs, and I knew that it always had been, and always will be.
Yet, I pushed on. I still had pride in my species. And I had pride in natural selection. These Terrans broke all the rules. This thing, this ship, it was cold. It was dead. The Terrans lack something that we assume naturally: patience. They couldn?t wait for their kind to grow bulky, thick skinned, and winged. No, they took to the stars in metal cylinders, spitting in the face of their creator. They built boxes of glass and steel to do their thinking.
But not us. We were what we were meant to be. We waited, bided our time. We became so suited to our environment, that we controlled it. We learned that information alone could coax our cells into changing. We were the masters of our fate. Until them, we were all that was pure, all that was strong. All that was? natural.
I moved from the wall to the ceiling, and saw them. Swathed in their abominations of iron, they talked in a rushed, nearly unintelligible high-pitched chatter. I crept up the wall to the ceiling, deciding who was most vital, who I was to gain the attention of. Unfortunately, one of them spotted me, one that had a different body shape than the rest, and pointed. I had a difficult choice to make: carry out the plan, or kill whoever I could.
Eight
?I?ve got it,? Brian pulled out his handgun and took aim. He squeezed the trigger, but was knocked to the right by a gray blur, and the shot bounced harmlessly off of a wall. He ordered everyone else to open fire. They were fast, but the Fade was faster. Body after body hit the ground, blood streaming from deep gashes caused by sharp claws. Carrie unloaded an LMG clip into it, and, for a moment, it stopped moving. She watched as it closed its eyes, and its wounds began to fill and heal. It screamed, and Carrie knew that it was about to ?Blink?. She closed her eyes, and waited for death.
What came instead was the crackly of burning flesh. The Fade spasmed, smoked, and fell to the ground, revealing Carl behind it, holding live wires that sparked and sizzled.
?Carl? I? how did?? she trailed off.
?Who?s hurt?? he shouted to the room. There was no sound, save Brian rolling over. Carrie offered him her hand, and he stood up.
?What?s our status Meyer? How many people do we have left?? Carl looked at his boots. He sighed, and mumbled something along the lines of ?us?.
?All of them?? Brian couldn?t believe it. How could one Fade do this much damage?
?Yes? all of them. So, Corporal, what do we do?? Brian was forced into doing something he was largely unaccustomed with: think. Even his nearly-simian mind didn?t have to work long to determine that three marines on an infested ship with no communication abilities wouldn?t last long.
?Brian?? his sister looked worried, and she had every right to be. ?We can?t stay here.?
?She?s right,? said Carl, ?they know we?re here, we need to relocate.?
Brian was still wondering how it was possible for this level of damage to be inflicted by a single Kharra. He soon knew that it wasn?t a single Kharra; he was unable to warn Carl of the Skulk that dropped onto him. His reflex was to open fire, and so he did. Three clean shots through its head. Green-yellow blood dripped out, but the Skulk had already sunk its teeth into Carl. With a look of pain, the Skulk glanced back, Carl?s spine in its mouth. Then, they were gone.
Nine
The large one pulled something from his belt, and pointed it at me. I was fortunate my Maker had sent a Fade to assist me. It moved across the room, killing all that lay in its path. I dropped down to do my share. Their attacks were all focused on it, so I had no problem tearing their feet off, and snapping their neck when they hit the ground. All around me, bodies fell. It was a massacre, and my Maker was pleased.
Then, when only three remained, my comrade?s life was cut short by their infernal vice, electricity. This was yet another crime against nature. The Terrans heavily depended on the constant flow of electrons through a medium. Almost every piece of their pseudo-environment required it. We hated it; the raw flow of electrons into the air filled our minds with a kind of static. It wasn?t distracting, but annoying. My fellow soldier died in the heat of battle, and I chose to avenge his death, sooner rather than later.
In the confusion they hadn?t seen me. I crept back up the wall and readied myself to kill the murderer. I had only one shot, and I had to make it count. I bided my time, until I was directly over him. Then, I released, and let the artificial gravity take me to my prey. I sunk my teeth into his neck, and felt his nerves, franticly trying to send signals to his brain. And, I felt his brain, trying to control the situation, but its efforts were in vain. This Terran was already on the verge of death. Then, I felt three sharp stingers in my back. I winced, and turned to look at my attacker. I caught only a glimpse of him, as suddenly my Maker folded space, and brought me to it.
The black-tipped growth pulsed in approval, as I was suddenly nestled next to my Maker. But I noticed something odd. I felt? different. Heavier.
I don't have to much yet, and the "chapters" are terribly short, but here is my fan-fic:
Symbiosis
One
Consciousness. I had been awoken, once again. And again, I must serve my duties. There is no one. There is no individual. There is only the Queen, and the Great Defense. We exist only to protect those who are higher from the invasion of the Terran forces.
We are their warriors, and without us they are nothing.
When these thoughts had finished running through my mind, I slowly stood up on my four claw-like legs. I had barely readjusted to living before I was told by my Maker what to do, and when to do it. Thankfully, it was simple: I was to kill, and I was to kill now.
I heard rubber on metal, and I scampered up the wall, and waited for the small blue-tipped growth in the corner to make me fade away. I readied myself to dive onto whoever came to hurt my Maker.
A man clad in green stepped through the door, and put his hand on some slime covering the wall.
?Oh man, I think I just lost my appetite??
Why must they constantly talk? As if I didn?t hear enough from all the life around me, they must chatter too. My head was always filled with a thousand voices: ?My Maker calls me?; ?Kill the intruders!?; ?Gorge! Restore my flesh!?; ?We need more builders.? It never ceased. Even the bacteria in the air hummed its own little song in my ear.
The man, who was blinded to our kind by the blue-tipped growth, didn?t see my Maker until he bumped into it. Then it called out with a long, bacterial scream. I leapt at his head, but I overshot. Tumbling down in front of him, my orange eyes met his blue visor. This rare moment of seeing your enemy face-to-face stopped us both. We looked, as if fascinated by the fact that, when you took away the commanders, the Makers, the bacteria and the nanites, this is what it all was.
Two soldiers on the battlefield, with nothing to lose but their lives.
Two
?Luxury Liner Odyssey, this is the TSA ship Rushmore, do you read me? We?ve picked up some readings that could indicate anomalous materials on the starboard bow of your ship. C?mon guys, pick up the phone?? Carl sighed. Why wouldn?t they respond? The first thing that came to mind was a Kharra infestation. But how could that be possible? They hadn?t been less than a few million miles from flagged sectors, and surely it would take some time for the Kharra to eliminate all the passengers aboard a Luxury Liner, even just one would be able to call for help.
?Well, Meyers?? said an annoyed Sergeant Sporiv.
?They aren?t responding, sir.? replied Carl. Sporiv made a sound that was rougher than a sigh, but not quite a grunt.
?Would you recommend that I send a boarding party??
?Well, my scanners can?t penetrate the hull, so if you choose to do so, I recommend lots of firepower, sir.?
?Meyers, I don?t have weapons just lying around on this ship. Do you know how long we?ve been floating around out here? Do you know how quickly weapons cease functioning?? They were rhetoric questions. Carl simply looked at his boots.
?In that case, sir, send only your most skilled men.?
?I intend to, Meyers, so get your armor on, and get in a pod, and get aboard that damn ship.? Carl stood up, and started towards the large armory protruding from the center of the room.
Three
I lunged. What else could I do? The Marine smacked me with the butt of his weapon, sending me flying across the room. I shook my head, ?spit? at him, and ran up the wall, towards an open vent. He opened fire, but I dodged each of his bullets. He had fire, I had the wind.
I slipped inside the opening in the wall, and began to crawl through the maze of pipes in the walls that held my Maker. The Marine looked around, panicked. Every soldier can only attack what he can see, be he Terran or Kharra. One of this Terran?s many shortcomings was that he could only see with his eyes. I saw with my eyes, ears and nose. My spit had given him away, and now I just needed the proper place to launch myself from.
He became more and more terrified, I could smell it. I threw myself at him, but he was ready. I felt cold nano-steel sink into my flesh. Pain spread through my body, but it emptied through my wound, leaving a familiar numbness. I knew what was next. I had died many times before, and I knew I would simply be reborn, again, and again, and again. This was my existence. An endless cycle of fear and pain. As my vision clouded, I wondered what I despised more; the helplessness, or the monotony.
Four
Carl grumbled as he slipped on armor, lagging behind his already prepared comrades.
?C?mon, Carl, how much longer is this gonna take?? Carl glared at O?Ster; he was tired of hearing such quips from him. Carl wasn?t afraid to admit to himself that he was jealous of Brian O?Ster. Not of his intellect, which was virtually non-existent, not of his strength, though that was worthy of envy. He coveted his rank.
?I?ll try and hurry, Corporal,? he said, through gritted teeth. True, it was merely one rank. But Carl knew he was supposed to have it. On the infested station known as Azure III, he had saved the lives of twenty-six colonists through careful planning. Brian, however, had chosen to empty a Heavy Machine-Gun on a group of aliens that were hardly considered threatening: six Gorges, a dead skulk, and two of what had been dubbed ?Movement Chambers?. He was promoted for ?averting what could have potentially become a probable disaster?. In fact, the only reason he hadn?t already educated Brian in the means of discovering all the places a Catalyst Pack should not fit into the body, was his step-sister, Carrie. She was intelligent, beautiful, and no interest in him whatsoever.
?Today, Carl?? Carl fastened the last strap on his boot, and stood up. Brian tossed him a Light Machine-Gun and a pistol, before motioning for him to move towards a transport pod. He stepped inside the small cone, and pulled the safety belt across himself.
The pod chimed in with a hollow, female voice. Carl wondered why every automated voice aboard every ship simply had to sound like a British woman.
?Welcome to the Mark IX TSA Transport Pod. Please fasten your safety belt. For your protection, do not eat, drink, or smoke inside the Pod,? at this point, one of the more annoying Marines put out his cigar on a nearby speaker. ?Thank you, and have a very safe day.? Within seconds, mechanical locks could be heard closing, and small fans that circulated air came to life inside the pod. The sounds of plasma being superheated and prepared for use in the engine resonated throughout the craft. Small puffs of Hydrogen were seen out the window, pushing the cone away from the ship. The thrusters came to life, and they began to approach the Odyssey.
Docking took only a few seconds. A Marine named John Kreig pushed the door leading into Odyssey open. A dank, slightly metallic smell filled their nostrils. Immediately, they knew what they were up against; they were here.
They climbed through the opening, but were unprepared for the seen that awaited them. They had seen what the Kharra can do to people, but never something like this. Bodies? hundreds of them. Men, women, and children littered the room. Some were ripped open. Some were incased in pulsing green goop, their skulls filled with this bacteria. The ship buckled, muffling the sounds of wings flapping nearby. Suddenly, they were bathed in a green gas that began to choke them. Krieg thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and opened fire, screaming ?Lerk!? Alas, his sight had betrayed him. The Lerk came from the opposite direction, and tore open his neck. Carl spun, and put four bullets through the horrid creature. It dropped to the ground, twitched, and was no longer a threat. Carl looked away from the corpse, and suggested that they continue to move. Brian nodded, and they collected their thoughts and headed for an archway.
Five
I was drifting. My mind was moving about the cosmos, waiting to be reincarnated where I was needed. This was the only time I truly valued. But suddenly, I felt a tug at my soul. I was rushed to a Maker in a place far, far away from anything I had ever seen. This place was strange; it was larger than any ship I had before encountered, and seemed almost elegant. Perhaps this was a place for recreation among the Terrans.
Then, I was forced into a body. I stood up, as I did every time, on my four claw-like legs, and surveyed my surroundings. There were tables about, and shattered glass. What looked like Terran bodies were sprawled all over the floor. Thoughts flooded into my mind, and suddenly I knew: this was our counter-attack. We were going to invade their space. My Maker told me to scout, it had felt that there were Marines aboard this ship. I took off down a hallway, mentally transmitting all I saw to my Maker, and, in turn, to my fellow soldiers. I passed by an undulating, black-tipped growth, and instantly felt more energetic. I wondered if my Maker could be wrong. I sensed no sign of the enemy. But instantly, I knew I was wrong.
The thoughts of a dying Lerk pierced my mind, and I knew where they were. I had to plan my attack carefully. My Maker told me to bait them, bring them to our spike-throwing growths. I chuckled, and went to find my hunters.
Six
?We need to contact the Rushmore? said a lone voice from the back of the squad.
?We will, once we find a place to, soldier,? Brian said, his voice echoing in the vast ballroom, ?When that Lerk died, it released a lot of spores, so the pod is pretty much useless. Meyers, you see any consoles up there?? Indeed, Carl had. However, it had a man sticking through it, and electricity occasionally jumped from a wire, to the corpse, and back to an adjacent wire.
?I don?t think we?ll get this one working?? he said.
?Aw, you can fix it Carl; you must have been doing something during college while we were all out on dates. C?mon, it?s just a broken computer.? It is true, Brian wasn?t smart. This ?computer? happened to be a highly complex piece of equipment that employed supercapacitors that could kill them all if a wire was crossed, not to mention the Phase LAN Connector, which, if treated to roughly, could cause a singularity cascade and neutralize all electric impulses in their brains.
?Fine.? Carl replied sharply, through gritted teeth, which is an act in itself that deserves recognition. He looked away, and removed the man?s body. He tapped a button on the side of his helmet, and his HUD began to provide diagrams to assist in his repairs.
It was a tangled mess. Carl was sure he had shorted out something, because sparks had flown when he connected what he thought to be two red wires, but was really a red wire and a white wire stained with blood. Carl thought best when he was tinkering with something. So, now he thought. He thought about his life. He thought about the Frontiersmen. He thought about smacking Brian with a pipe for the college comment.
?Corporal O?Ster! Another pod has docked. They didn?t know about the spores, so they?re hurt pretty badly. They were saying something, but I couldn?t make it out.?
?Well, get them in here, what are we paying you for? Who?s with them??
?Karson, Inta, Higgly, Sury, Kingston, and your sister.? Carl dropped his Welder. Loudly.
?Problem, Meyer??
?N-no sir?? How could he expect himself to work like this? He was nervous around women in general, and bringing the woman he pined after near him will he tried to make repairs was almost suicidal.
Brian grunted for three marines to assist in cleaning up the six new marines. The nodded, and went for their med-packs. All new it would take only a few seconds, but the six new marines looked like they were in a hurry.
?What?s with all of you?? Carrie answered her brother; ?The Rushmore has been compromised.?
?Compromised??
?Yes.?
?By what??
?Those?? she pointed at a Skulk climbing towards the squads along the ceiling.
Seven
I knew where I was going. My mind had been filled with the layout of the ship, and I could see what our territory was, and what was theirs. I chuckled to myself; their territory consisted of one corner of one room. This wouldn?t be too hard.
Old feelings returned, however, as I scampered along the walls. I had been contemplating my own existence. My purpose. In Terran terms, I was having a mid-life crisis. I knew I didn?t stand out in our ranks. I had never even been ordered by a Maker to assume a new form. It was always the same four clawed legs, and I knew that it always had been, and always will be.
Yet, I pushed on. I still had pride in my species. And I had pride in natural selection. These Terrans broke all the rules. This thing, this ship, it was cold. It was dead. The Terrans lack something that we assume naturally: patience. They couldn?t wait for their kind to grow bulky, thick skinned, and winged. No, they took to the stars in metal cylinders, spitting in the face of their creator. They built boxes of glass and steel to do their thinking.
But not us. We were what we were meant to be. We waited, bided our time. We became so suited to our environment, that we controlled it. We learned that information alone could coax our cells into changing. We were the masters of our fate. Until them, we were all that was pure, all that was strong. All that was? natural.
I moved from the wall to the ceiling, and saw them. Swathed in their abominations of iron, they talked in a rushed, nearly unintelligible high-pitched chatter. I crept up the wall to the ceiling, deciding who was most vital, who I was to gain the attention of. Unfortunately, one of them spotted me, one that had a different body shape than the rest, and pointed. I had a difficult choice to make: carry out the plan, or kill whoever I could.
Eight
?I?ve got it,? Brian pulled out his handgun and took aim. He squeezed the trigger, but was knocked to the right by a gray blur, and the shot bounced harmlessly off of a wall. He ordered everyone else to open fire. They were fast, but the Fade was faster. Body after body hit the ground, blood streaming from deep gashes caused by sharp claws. Carrie unloaded an LMG clip into it, and, for a moment, it stopped moving. She watched as it closed its eyes, and its wounds began to fill and heal. It screamed, and Carrie knew that it was about to ?Blink?. She closed her eyes, and waited for death.
What came instead was the crackly of burning flesh. The Fade spasmed, smoked, and fell to the ground, revealing Carl behind it, holding live wires that sparked and sizzled.
?Carl? I? how did?? she trailed off.
?Who?s hurt?? he shouted to the room. There was no sound, save Brian rolling over. Carrie offered him her hand, and he stood up.
?What?s our status Meyer? How many people do we have left?? Carl looked at his boots. He sighed, and mumbled something along the lines of ?us?.
?All of them?? Brian couldn?t believe it. How could one Fade do this much damage?
?Yes? all of them. So, Corporal, what do we do?? Brian was forced into doing something he was largely unaccustomed with: think. Even his nearly-simian mind didn?t have to work long to determine that three marines on an infested ship with no communication abilities wouldn?t last long.
?Brian?? his sister looked worried, and she had every right to be. ?We can?t stay here.?
?She?s right,? said Carl, ?they know we?re here, we need to relocate.?
Brian was still wondering how it was possible for this level of damage to be inflicted by a single Kharra. He soon knew that it wasn?t a single Kharra; he was unable to warn Carl of the Skulk that dropped onto him. His reflex was to open fire, and so he did. Three clean shots through its head. Green-yellow blood dripped out, but the Skulk had already sunk its teeth into Carl. With a look of pain, the Skulk glanced back, Carl?s spine in its mouth. Then, they were gone.
Nine
The large one pulled something from his belt, and pointed it at me. I was fortunate my Maker had sent a Fade to assist me. It moved across the room, killing all that lay in its path. I dropped down to do my share. Their attacks were all focused on it, so I had no problem tearing their feet off, and snapping their neck when they hit the ground. All around me, bodies fell. It was a massacre, and my Maker was pleased.
Then, when only three remained, my comrade?s life was cut short by their infernal vice, electricity. This was yet another crime against nature. The Terrans heavily depended on the constant flow of electrons through a medium. Almost every piece of their pseudo-environment required it. We hated it; the raw flow of electrons into the air filled our minds with a kind of static. It wasn?t distracting, but annoying. My fellow soldier died in the heat of battle, and I chose to avenge his death, sooner rather than later.
In the confusion they hadn?t seen me. I crept back up the wall and readied myself to kill the murderer. I had only one shot, and I had to make it count. I bided my time, until I was directly over him. Then, I released, and let the artificial gravity take me to my prey. I sunk my teeth into his neck, and felt his nerves, franticly trying to send signals to his brain. And, I felt his brain, trying to control the situation, but its efforts were in vain. This Terran was already on the verge of death. Then, I felt three sharp stingers in my back. I winced, and turned to look at my attacker. I caught only a glimpse of him, as suddenly my Maker folded space, and brought me to it.
The black-tipped growth pulsed in approval, as I was suddenly nestled next to my Maker. But I noticed something odd. I felt? different. Heavier.
Comments
Anyway, thanks for the feedback, I'll try and get to work on the rest of Five and start on Six.
I saw the word 'Queen' in ur first chapter. Is that the same 'Queen' in NS The Behemoth?
Oh, and the reference to the Queen just refers to a leader in the Kharra hierarchy, and probably won't be mentioned again.
And this is all leading up to the major part of the story, and the reason for the title wil become apparent in the future. <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html//emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif' /><!--endemo-->