StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Rolling hills of green covered in mist stretch over the valley. The occasional blue-gray of the river can be seen through the trees. The brown of a dirt road can be seen near the end of the valley. Three soldiers move out onto a ridge. The massive form of an Envori soldier looks out over the valley through a pair of quadoculars.

"Just a little farther," it says to itself.

"Lez naht jinx et," comments the left rider on its back. Both riders look out across the valley, their goggles showing them what their dual machine guns see. They half sit, half hang from their saddles on the sides of the Envori.

"It'd be just like the bastards."

"True dat," says the same rider.

They move back into the trees, rejoining their comrades, and head down along the ridge.

"Gots a bad feelen about dis," comments the right-hand rider

"It's normal."

"Normah?"

"Yes. They own this place. Never been able to shake them."

"Why nat jest burn et?"

"Didn't you even pay attention to the briefings when you got to this rock? The trees they planted here don't burn, idiot."

"Naht even wid Napahm?"

"It damages them, but it doesn't light them up. Carpet bombing's to expensive, and we need the land, so we can't nuke it."

An Envori without riders looks back. "As much as it doesn't matter, shut up back there. It gives me some piece of mind."

"Excuse me, ya damn pack animah," comments the righthand rider.

The Envori it was riding on stops, swinging its arm around, grabbing the rider by the head.

"Call any of us that again, and I'll throw you to them."

"Havro, as much as I want to help you, no butchering your riders. They make good targets," responds the Envori on point.

"Damn, and I was so hoping to rip something limb from limb today."

"Can he do da?" asks the rider as he gets put back in its saddle.

"Yeah. Dey ah can," responds his fellow rider.

"Wah?"

"Low gee world for us. We'd already be there by now if it weren't for you grunts," states the Envori.

"Yeah, but you wodn't have uz," adds the left gunner.

"Well, you're likely to die anyways, so I don't quite see the problem."

"We ah?" questions the right.

"Yep. When they attack, they wipe out half a unit, and always kill an extra, just for good measure. No one's really sure why, although most think they consider this some sort of game."

"So we got a... thirty-four in hundred chance at liven?"

"Try fifty-five, oh mathmatical genius."

The Envori on point shouldered it's rifle. "Alright, bums. This is where we cross the river. Gunners, keep an eye out, cause you'll die first if we get ambushed. Havro, you take point."

"Bastard."

"Aren't we all?"

"Granted. You two. Pay attention."

"Hey, we dah first, remembah?" responds the the left rider.

The massive Envori wades into the water, its four eyes quickly going back and forth across the river, only to stop.

"You just see something?"

"Wheah?" asks the right rider.

"Under the water, over there."

"No."

"As in, not on your side."

"Nah... wait... yeah... over deah..." says the left rider, lining up its machine gun. "Iz headed dahn da rivah."

"It's dead, whatever it is." The Envori aimed its rifle. The sound of a spark, almost drowned out by the splash of something exploding under the water.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" calls an Envori still on the shore.

"Just something that I didn't think was friendly."

"Why?"

"Better safe than sorry."

A sound fills the air. The Envori in the river begins to backpedal towards the forest

"Why we go bahk?" asks the right rider.

"Fifty-five percent, grunts. Good luck."

The sound stops.

"FIRE!" calls one of the Envori on the bank.

The trees on the other side of the river explode. The Envori, still wading backwards through the water feels a sudden jerk, along with sudden splash on its left flank. It doesn't bother listening to the sudden stream obscenities of the gunner's home language on his right.

The firefight ends.

"Looks lahke a dead on fifty-fifty," commented the Envori's right gunner. It gurgles, falling limp over the back of the Envori.

All hear the word "Imbecile" float in the air from across the river.

The Envori, removing the ID of the two corpses on its back, shouts in return. "We know!"

Laughter comes from the trees, as the enemy disappears off into the valley.

Good imagery... I must of missed it but what are they riding, or am i looking into that wrong

theheap wrote:Good imagery... I must of missed it but what are they riding, or am i looking into that wrong

The two machine gunners are riding on the Envori.

Just decieded I'd post the next section of it...



"We lose anybody important?" asks the point Envori.

"We lost Dezri. The rest were just Tanori." The blood-spattered Envoir shrugs. "No loses, really. We just should have had more, that's all. We gonna head out, or what, Markova?"

Markova looks out across the river, before bobbing its head a few times. "Let's get going."

The now entirely Envori group marches across the river, before striking back into the jungle. Glowing blue blades slash through the underbrush and occasional tree. They make their way to a cleared rode through the jungle, changing to a gallop as they charge down it, heading for their new base some twenty kilometers down the way.

"Havro, what do you think of that?"

"I'd say its a Terran transport headed for the base, Markova. I'd also say its firing near the base."

"And what does that make you think?"

"Well, That'd make me think one of two things. Either the humans had betrayed us, and are attacking the base alongside these bastards, even though they've never much as met."

"Or?"

"That they're honoring our treaty, supplying troops, and their transport is attacking a group of them that are attacking our base."

"Which do you think it is?"

"Well, given that the humans are a little bit more honorable than most, and that I've fought alongside them before, I'd say that they're here to help us rather than fight us."

"Good."

The Envori run the rest of the road to the base. They slow for a moment at the forward most check points so that the Tanori gaurds could realize that they were Envori, before going to a full gallop into the base. They stop at the base load out point, where they dump their gear at the storage lockers, and wash the dust and muck off.

"Markova, I'm going to go laugh at the humans, then welcome them to this outpost in a green hell."

"Fine. Just remember to report to mess."

Havro trots off towards the human transport, eager to see the silly hypocritical pacifists.

Fifty figures marched off the 100 meter long transport. 5 wear thick, heavy, dull green armor out of nessecity. Weapons soon drip in the rain, as 45 Terrans trudge out of the transport, their hair quickly becoming matted against their scalps. Havro watchs them walk past,

"Only fifty? I don't know whether or not I should feel insulted or humoured by your over confidence!"

One of the Terrans stops, and turns out of the crowd. She was in the lead, and her short hair had already become matted to her scalp, her short stature making her stand out amongst them. "Fucking Envori! Bullshiting about how much shit they can take!" She walks up to the Envori, spitting at its feet, and looking up at its head. She barely made it to the Envori's waist.

Havro crosses it's arms as it looks down at the Terran before it. "Weak! We have no need for powered armor!"

"Well, excuse us for being smart, unlike you big, imbecilic dipshits!"

A few of the soldiers look back and forth, while the rest smile.

"Hah! It is because your pisshole of a world is small and pathetic!"

"My nice, pristene world happens to be quite effective, since it's home to allies of the Envori. Maybe that piece of shit rock you call a homeworld was so heavy that it caused your brain to fail to develop properly."

"Pristene? Don't make me laugh! I've been to your homeworld, it's a pathetic ball of rock!"

The Terran and the Envori stare at each other for a few more seconds, before starting again.

"Havro, you pigfucker! How are you?!"

Havro reaches down and picks up the small woman, giving her a crushing bear hug in its massive arms. "Good, Lieutenent, good! And how about you?" it says as it puts her back on the ground.

"Annoyed already by this green piece of shit. Good to see you again."

"And why did they send you, my little friend?"

"The beauricrats decieded that a unit with, and I quote, 'Prior knowledge of the working habits of the Envori military,' unquote, was required for this happy little fucking mission. That, and the Republican Gaurd didn't want it. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"That is simple! For millenia, we fought amongst ourselves, finding newer and faster ways of killing each other. Then, one day, a new idea came forward! Our scientists said that there was likely to be other races to crush and conquer amongst the stars! And so, banded together with this idea, we went off and did just that. AND IT HAS BEEN GLORIOUS!!!!" yells the Envori, rearing back on its hind legs, its arms spread wide, before it comes down to the ground with a crash.

"Havro, I have to wonder about your spiecies. I mean, that has got to be one of the best reasons to get out of your home system, but still, most of my spiecies considers yours to be quite insane."

"Hah! You call us insane? Your government condons violence of all kinds, yet here you are, fighting a war that isn't even yours!"

"Bah, those fuckers just wanted us out of the way."

"El-Tee, quit fucking around, and get over here!" yells the Lieutenant's commanding officer.

The Envori roars back "SILENCE, YOU SACK OF SHIT!"

The Lieutenent chuckles, "Nah, Silas ain't so bad. See you around, ya crazy bastard."

The small form of the human runs back to her platoon. The Envori does his spiecies equivelent of smiling, and returns to its own spiecies for mess and debreifing.

And intresting if confusing story.

"Hah! You call us insane? Your government condons violence of all kinds, yet here you are, fighting a war that isn't even yours!"

Shudn't that be condem??

Crazedwraith wrote:And intresting if confusing story.

"Hah! You call us insane? Your government condons violence of all kinds, yet here you are, fighting a war that isn't even yours!"

Shudn't that be condem??

Probably. I have a problem with mixing up words.

Strange but I like it keep up the good work

LT.Hit-Man wrote:Strange but I like it keep up the good work

Well, now that you've said that I suppose I have too...

Havro stands on the low walls of the fortifications. A warm cup of grey, brackish liquid is in its left hand. Its rifle, three feet long, with a doubled drum filled with small depleted uranium slugs for the smaller twin barrels of the rifle, with a second drum, perpendiular to the first, sits on top, feeding the far large barrel with its own expliosive proxi-rounds. Havro looks out across the burnt field towards the battered trees that mark the begining of the forest. It knows it shouldn't bother trying to spot them. They only make themselves known when they wish to be.

It puts down its mug, and aims its rifle by sight alone. It pulls the top trigger on the rifle. There's a thump, and the cracking of timbers as as several of the trees are knocked over from the explosive round. It lets the rifle rest on its strap, and picks up the mug. Taking a sip, it begins to toy with the new goggles that the humans have provided. It flips through the various settings, staring at the forest through various spectrums. It then takes a look at the clouds using it, again flipping throughout the spectrum.

"Fuckers do block out almost everything," it comments. It sets the goggles back to automatic, and looks out across the burnt fields surrounding the base, before removing the goggles.

"And it does look darker out." It smiles, putting the goggles back on, looking across the field again. The smoke, debris, and trees have cleared or hit the ground. The trees seem to cut off what little light there is amongst them. It fiddles again with the goggles, and finds the zoom function. It closes in on the hole into the forest, the goggles trying to make sense of what little light comes from it using every spectrum they can see. The goggles pick out a few of the nearest trunks, dropping off to black the deeper it goes. The Envori growls to itself. It's ears perk up as it hears the faint sound of approaching power armour.

"Having fun?"

"Yes, much, Lieutenant," returns the Envori.

"Sorry if this insults you or your spiecies, Havro, but somethings been nagging me."

"What?" asks the Envori, still glaring out into the trees.

"Well, the last time we met, you had come to our aide for our little war with the Tanori."

"Yes."

"Well, I got the impression that yours is the sort of spieces that doesn't really ask for help."

"We don't." A pause. "Normally."

"Normally?"

"This planet is far from normal."

"I gathered that. Why?"

"Do you know how long we've fought them on this planet?"

"The report didn't say."

"122 years. We've fought them for 122 years on this planet, alone."

The lieutenent mutters some expletive in her own language before reverting to Common. "Now that's just frightening."

"Indeed. It has been a stalemate, a meat-grinder, as you would call it, for the last 122 years. Neither side winning, neither side losing. Although, some would say that our side is losing."

"Why?"

"We know we've lost people. Just yesterday, I lost a squadmate. We don't know if we have ever killed a single one of them."

"Not even one?"

"No. We have never retrieved one of their bodies. Few have even seen them at all, and all of them were ghosts and shadows, silloutes in the trees after you run out of ammo." Havro sighs. "I have watched them kill, I have even had conversations with them, after the firefights between us and them end. But never have I seen one, nor have I ever killed one."

"So why not just nuke them? I seem to recall your spiecies using them on more than one unnessacary world."

"We've tried. They have another type of forest. It grows fast, and dies quickly, but it strips poisons such as radiation from the soil. It takes two weeks to clean an entire blast site, and remove all of the radiation. And that's only if we manage to set off a bomb. They have, since the begining of the war, demonstrated that they have a rather obscene number of low-power anti-aircraft lasers, and the targeting systems to match. They can cut down entire flocks of missles by the hundreds."

Another expletive in the human tongue.

"This world is a military strategist's hell expressed in reality."

"What about terraforming?"

"Our projects in the matter will not come to fruitation for another six or seven hundred years. We need the land within fifty."

"Great. So now I'm stuck on this rock until I buy it, huh?"

"No. Your spiecies has been fully willing to pull out of such situations. Ours, however, is not."

"Vietnam all over again."

"What was that?"

"Vietnam was somebody else's war, also. While I doubt the same will happen here, in the past, one country took the war off of that country's hands. Lasted ten years. We pulled out, giving control back over to the government that was hated by all sides. They were over run within a year. Doubt the same will happen, but I'm betting that our forces will be doing the same."

The Envori was silent at this prediction.

"So what are we here to do?"

"Help us kill them, I would presume. Did your government honestly believe that only fiftey of you were nessacary?"

"No. Most of us are some of the older bunch, near the end of our 'term of service.' I figure they're hoping we'll buy it here."

"Intresting." Both looked out across the charred fields that surrounded the base. "I have a question about the old times."

"Ask away."

"Whatever happened to Xsu Long?"

"He... got killed, so to speak.... about the same time I got a fake right arm."

"So to speak?"

"Our military is not one to let good soldiers go to waste... the higher ups believe that once you die, you lose all your rights."

"I would imagine so."

"You also don't leave the service."

"I would imagine so. Your culture believes in burial with full military honors, as I recall..."

"That's not qutie what I mean. Humans, a few hundred years ago, determined how to repair damaged neurological tissue. Unlike your spiecies, which I'm sure has gene-fixed yourselves so that you don't stop making whatever form of nerve cells you have."

"I'm hurt, Lieutenent."

"Bull shit. Humans stop making nerve cells at some point in time, I never really cared to find out when, but either way, humans eventually stop. As, like all things, it eventually starts to die... we have mechanical replacements for every other organ in the body, but the brain... it isn't something you can just replace. Thus, it was determined, that there must be a way to revitalize or repair nerve cells, since gene-fixing is outlawed."

"Rather bad logical reasoning in that statement."

"I never said these people were entirely sane. Our spiecies is one of the few blessed with the Mad Scientist's curse."

"Mad Scientist's curse?

"The occasional human has their brain wired in an odd way. They think... differently... from everyone else. This odd wiring has yet to be reproduced in cloning, but basically... when it does happen, you get a genius. Statisticians have determined that it happens to about one in 50 billion humans. The person that came up with it was one of them. She managed to escape the military for a few years by going into neurology, but was later picked up when her mind went way off the deepend..."

Havro stared at the Lieutenant for a few minutes as she stared out across the field.

"Are you going to continue at some point?"

"Anyways, this doctor, after about six years of work, managed to finally pull it off. She had pulled it off so well, in fact, that the device could bring up coma patients, even 'wake' the newly brain-dead. After a rather long and disturbing court-case, however, brain-death was the legal decieding factor as to whether or not someone was dead. If they were woken from this state, they were not considered to be the person they once were, no matter whether or not they still contained the memories of the person they once were. They were not, in fact, considered a person at all. Getting the idea, here?"

"I think I understand." Havro paused. "Unfortunatly."

The two soldiers stood on the wall, looking out into the dark hole in the forest.

You thought it wass dead, didn't you?(Actually, you guys probably just didn't care...) Well, I went back through, made some changes to all of the previous chapters (You might want to go back and check them out. They might become important later. That, and its been a while, and there's only three earlier chapters.

But anyways.... next chapter/section/part:



Markova looks at its platoon. "Time to show these humans the basic rules of life ont his shithole."

The Envori chat amongst themselves, as they help each other don suits of armor.

"Markova, do we get new saddle fodder?"

Markova nods at Havro's question. Havro smiled, an uncomplicated gesture of relaxing the jaws, and just baring its front row of needle sharp teeth. Havro reaches into its locker, and pulls out its rifle, sliding the drum clip into place. A few quick taps tell the Envori that the drum is set. The second clip slaps into place, and a round is pulled into the barrel. Havro attaches a few extra clips to a belt hanging from its waist.

The Envori move out of the barracks, splitting into two teams of ten. A group of twenty Tanoi saddle up on their rides, jacking their goggles into the gun interfaces. Ten Terrans went into each group. Across the landing pad, other platoons group up, preparing to enter the jungle outside.

"Good to see you again, Havro. These would be the poor saps who will be joining us today?"

Havro nods, a smile on his face.

"Aye! We rahzent dat!" yells the lefthand rider.

"Tough shit."

The five platoons marched into the jungle. The Lieutenent and the another human, wearing heavier power armor walk rear, while Markova takes point with Havro second. Markova swings the minigun strapped to its arm, pushing aside some shrubery to see what's ahead. The blade in its left hand passes through bushes as it walks, leaving a trail of branches and leaves in its wake. The blades pale blue glow casts enough light to see by using the goggles, the trees above obscuring what little light makes it thorugh the clouds above.

"Havro, you get the feeling that you're being watched."

"Yes. It's normal, although you never get used to it."

"All the time?"

"Yes. All the time."

"Doesn't that just make you even more paranoid?"

"Yes."

Markova interjected into the conversation. "Keep the chatter down, you two. Gives me-"

"Peace of mind. I know, I know," finished Havro.

"Peace a mahnd, mah ass. When-"

"If," Havro interupted.

"WHEN we make it bahk, make me feel bettah if you cleaned yo ahmah."

"Honsetly, I doubt whether even the most recent layers will come off, or not. Hey, Markova? What color's this body armor supposed to be?"

"Blue."

The gunner pushes his goggles up his face, to look at the armor. Splotches of green, yellow, and red cover it. There was no blue in sight. The gunner turns away, pulling the goggles back over his eyes.

The Envori behind them looks ahead instead of side to side as it had been doing for the last few hours. "Quit terrifing them. We don't need them expending all their energy quaking in their saddles. We want them nice and awake if the firefights come."

"Oh, shutup Tandazi. Don't you find it fun?"

"I would if they were saddled on me. Fortunatly they aren't, so I don't have to deal with them."

"You'd have to deal with them if it weren't for the fact that you're more machine that flesh."

"The advantages of being on point all to often.."

Markova doesn't look back as it says "Personally, I would rather not join you."

"Understandable. The lines about twenty meters infront of you, by the way."

"I can see it, I can see it."

"Just making sure."

Markova stops after a few more moments of walking. Infront of it, there was a line of stone with a crack that ran in either direction, unbroken and 6 centimeters wide. Above him was a solid break in the trees, directly above the line in on the ground. A whirling sound, like whispers in the wind, and the trees constantly swayed, caught in an eternal breeze. Markova turns around.

"Alright, humans and idiots, gather around so you can see. Don't worry, we won't be attacked. They never hit a group larger than 30 unless they happen to be setting up a bomb. Now, before me, is the line. You do not cross it, because you will not survive. Havro, the paint?" Havro tosses Markova a can. "Now, if you will be so kind?" Havro also pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. Lavender light bathed Markova.

Markova turns, opening the can. Its splashes a rainbow of neon liquid at the line. The paint, as it hits the line, splatters everywhich way, showing thousands of invisible blades passing through the air. The paint slowly falls into the crack in the rocks. Markova attaches its minigun to its holster and grabs hold of a thick branch above. It lifts itself up off its hind legs, without a creak from the branch. The sudden blue flash of Havro's blade gives Markova enough time to prepare as it falls back to the ground, branch in hand.

Markova glares at Havro through its goggles, but pushes the branch against the line. The branch lifts into the air as the front disintegrates into sawdust. Within seconds, the only evidence of the branch's existance is a layer of fine sawdust on the sides of the crack in the rock.

"Now, does anyone want to stick their arm in there? No? Alright then, you've learned lesson one. The next few you'll learn when you head out on patrol for real. Everybody, back to base!"




"So the line does what, exactly?"

"It signifies where our territory ends, and where their's begins. Going over it, you go into their AA range, and get nailed. Going under it doesn't do anything, cause that rock takes terrawatt lasers without heating up."

The extra massive power armoured figure's head darts back and forth, staying to one side.

"What's up, Dev?"

It didn't turn to look back, instead saying "Something, El-Tee. They say something's out there, but I ain't seeing it."

Havro looks at Dev. "They?"

"My sensor equipment. I can't interact with it directly, so a built in comp gives me readouts that say what they see. It's the same with the clones when they're in power armour, but I have less space limitations, so I have better ones."

"And just why is that, Dev?"

"Because I'm dead."



Havro looks out at the night. The lieutenent sat next to him, out of her power armor. "You have never told me your name, Lieutenent."

"You've heard it. El-Tee. Nothing past that."

"Really? Why?"

"Cause I'm just a clone."

"Any differences between you and the average Terran?"

"Let's see... might as well start from birth... grown in a vat, have an average growth time of six years, well versed in military history, recieved massive augementation directly after puberty's finished over the span of a year, taught how to kill using a rather large assortment of armed and unarmed methods, and that's all by the age of twenty, while the average human has just gotten through school..."

"So what's so bad about that?"

"You'd have to learn human anatomy to get the other bits that they've done to us. It's espeacially horrible because the military decieded that females were better than males because of our reduced aggressive tendency, higher patience, tendency towards thinking things through when nessacary, our attention towards details..." Havro stares at the human for a moment. Her hand sat over her lower abdomen, her eyes closed, her head tilted down, her shoulders slumped forward, her entire body doubled over. "I'm sorry, I have to go..."

Havro watched the omnipresent clouds as the Lieutenent stood up and left. It looks at the ground where she sat.

"That's odd... it hasn't rained today..." it whispers to itself.

Yes, I'm stating this as though anyone on this board cares: IT LIVES!!!!



Ilya Ivanovich pulls himself to an upright position in his bed. He feels around in the darkness for a moment before he finds the switch for the lamp on his bed stand. His gaze floats around the room for a few minutes before it falls upon a few sheets of music on his desk. He groans, and then drags himself from the warm comfort of his bed. As he pulls some clothing from a pile, he asks himself "Why the hell did I ever agree to this job..."

Turning off the light, he leaves his hut, walking through the warm darkness for the kitchens. He enters the still lit hut with a minor grumble, and makes himself a mug of fake coffee. He leaves, walking down a little used path towards the gentle waves of the nearby ocean. He stops, pulling out a flashlight so that he can find the rough-hewn steps leading down the short cliff.

His flashlight drifts around the sands of the beach.

"No where in sight..." He turns to face a sudden cracking sound, shifting the flashlight over. Two of the natives, long thin poles in hand, dueling away from the cliffs.

Ilya watches as the pair shift their stances, then slam together. A flurry of movements almost untraceable to the human eye, and one of the poles is sent flying. The strike was disarming, but had sent the assailant off-balance. Weaponless, the other, the larger of the pair, lunges at the other. The other releases the weapon, in favor of simple grappling, as they rolled about in the sands.

They soon stop, with the larger on top. A series of sounds, notes almost unheard over the waves, is exchanged. The pair's muzzles touch, before they break apart. Ilya rolls his eyes in disgust.

"What children..." He takes a sip of his mug, and looks back over to where the ocean is, turning off his flashlight.

The first of the two suns to rise was the a smaller blue star, its burning face rising above the horizon, soon followed by the other visible sun, a giant yellow star. Ilya smiles at the sight, a rarity in the system. He then looks at the pair of fellow watchers. The smaller one sat in the others arms, the sides of their faces touching, both looking up at the rising suns. He looks back at the suns, watching the smaller fall behind the larger.

"A two week blisteringly hot summer with a six hour day/night cycle. The joys of a quaternary star system..." Ilya turns back to the pair, and sees that they are getting up, assuming fencing positions with their poles. They began again, slower this time, with the larger one starting with a quick staccato of jabs, thrusts, and strikes, starting them off in their practice duel. Ilya heard the sounds of the cracking sticks blend together from their speed, as they shift back and forth. A sudden lunge from the smaller one sends the larger off balance, which, in turn, makes a half-blind leap six meters backwards, taking a defensive posture to block another onslaught from the smaller one, as it had already closed the distance. The smaller one forces the larger up against the cliffs, before surprising the other by backing off and making a sweeping blow. The larger jumps over it, and tries to bring its pole down on the other's head, but finds only air as the smaller follows its own attack, leaping and twisting over a boulder. The larger leaps on top of the boulder, before jumping back as the smaller's pole slams into the boulder, sending rock fragments flying. The smaller hops onto the boulder, holding a defensive position, as the other backs away, keeping out of striking distance.

Ilya takes a sip of his coffee as he watches on, having moved away from the practice combat.

The smaller slides down the rock, instead of attacking from it, and dodges to the left as the larger attempts an attack. A sudden snap of the smaller's tail knocks over the larger. The smaller presses the advantage, knocking the larger's pole out of its hands. It catches the pole, and slams both into the sand next to the larger's head. It crosses the poles, bringing them down against the larger's neck. They touched muzzles, before the smaller pushes itself back to its feet, bringing the poles with it. The larger gets up, and lunges at the smaller. The smaller releases both poles as they wrestle in the sands.

Ilya rolls his eyes again, and finishes his coffee as he turns to look back out over the ocean.

The pair get up, and leave on all fours. Soon after, Ilya turns to see that they had left behind both of the poles. He walks over and picks one of them up. His eyes widen.

"How much to these things weigh?" He hefts it, and picks up the other. He looks at the boulder that had been the centerpiece of their fight for a few moments. He inspects where the smaller had slammed its pole into the rock, a web work of cracks smashed rock. Lifting up one of the poles, he pokes the cracked rock, and watches as a number of fragments fall away, dropping to the sand. Hefting the poles again, he walks away to the stairs up the cliff, heading back to his hut.



Ilya stares at the field. Next to him, human, white, male, tall, crew cut, sandals, green-camo pants, gray shirt: the epitomy of an army man who has been stationed in the ass-end of human territory with nothing to do. Army-man looks up to the sky through a pair of thick, wrap-around shades. He then looks down at the sheet of paper in his hand.

"How long until the shuttle gets here?"

"I'll see it in ten minutes. You'll see it in fifteen. Ah, there it is..."

"I thought you said you'd see it in ten."

"I ain't talking about the shuttle. Over there."

Army-man points across the field. One of the natives exits the light forest on the other side of the field at a slow gait. It crosses the field on all fours, standing on its hind legs once it reaches the other side. Both men stare at it as it shifts its shoulder blades back and widens and flattens its rib cage.

Army-man asks Ilya "Did the Doc ever figure out how they do that?"

"I recall he mumbled something about cartilage and rib structure, but I'm a philologist, not a xenobiologist."

"Whatever. All you ologists sound the same to me."

The native seats itself next to them, leaning back on its hands. It stares at the sky as it's tail twitches.

Army-man stares at it for a few seconds before asking "We ever determine the differences between sexes?"

"We aren't even sure if there are more than one, dumbass."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't wander up and ask 'Can we have one of your species' corpses so that we can dissect it?' Not exactly proper manners to ask for that sort of thing. Besides we aren't even sure if they can understand English."

"Bah... spotted it. So we're the welcoming committee?"

"Yep. No one else has anything to do with it, and are to lazy to walk over here."

"At least they send someone, sheesh."

The native stands, waiting just like the other two. Ilya finds the dull speck. They wait.

The shuttle, as it lands, is revealed to be a utilitarian gray semi-aerodynamic brick. The front was rounded to provide the triangular body some vague form of flying-wing-esque shape, and two stubby wings reveal the last vestiges of the shuttle's semi-guided re-entry history. It hovers over the field for a few seconds as landing gear drops down from the corners, then touches down without incident.

A door on the side, a meter behind the black of the cockpit windows, opens, allowing a steep stair to slide down to the field. Behind the door, stands the newest addition to the small human population of the world.

"I take it you're the Doc's newest piece of meat?"

The woman looks at Army-man for a second, before nodding. "Y-yes... um... I s-sup-pose..." She looks at the three members of her welcoming committee, and stops to stare at the native. It opens a second pair of eyes at the end of its lower jaw as it blinks the pair above and behind its upper jaw. The second pair closes.

"This unfortunate specimen of the military is named PFC Saul Carter, I'm Ilya Ivanovich, and that is one of the oh-so-disturbing you will spend your graduate work going insane over. What's your name?"

The woman stares at the native as she walks down the stairs. She trips, it moves, catching her. It puts her down as fast as it had caught her.

"I... umm... sorry..." It steps away, offering her its hand. She takes it shaking. "Umm... h-hell-hello... um... I'm... uh... A-Amanda Wong..." It nods, followed by a variance of pitched sounds.

"And this is one of the natives. I'll have to check if it's the same one as last time, but I have a reasonable belief it is. Well, come on."

She continues to stare at the native in front of her. Saul sighs, and walks over towards the ship.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"The reason I'm here!" Saul turned to look at Ilya. "What, you thought I came here for no reason at all except common nicety? Hardly. I'm just as lazy as everybody else. I'm going to get something to maintain my sanity for at least a little longer..."

Amanda watches as the native drops back to all fours, paying wide-eyed attention as the shoulder-blades shift forward and turn and the ribcage changes back. It takes a slow gait back to the forest and disappears. Saul has disappeared into the shuttle.

"Yeah, they're weird like that. Come on, I'll show you around."



Ilya hears a slight gasp of surprise. He looks up from his lunch. This native is larger than either of the pair from the morning or the welcomer, with the thin blade stating it's seniority.

"How long has it been standing there, Saul?"

"Hmm? Oh... no idea."

Ilya frowns, and stands up. He picks up his tray and hands it to today's cook, before leaving the kitchens. He looks down at the shadow it casts in front of him.

"Fucking six hour days..." he whispered to himself as he nears his hut. He opens the door, and walks in. It stops just outside the doorframe. He motions for it to enter, saying "Come in, come in..."

It steps inside the door, and gazes about the room. Ilya half-watches it as it performs its inspection of his domicile, while he walks over to his desk. He lifts the two poles.

"I assume you're here for these," he says, hoping that the native would make some connections to what he was saying. It had stopped looking at the various objects, and instead held its gaze upon the instruments in a corner of the hut. It picks the two poles from his hands, removing the blade on its back, tying the poles to it, before putting it back across its back.

Ilya looks at it, as it stares at the instruments in the corner.

"A fledgling musician, are we? Perhaps there is hope for your species yet... come here, I don't bite..." It walks over it to Ilya, still eyeing the various instruments. It takes a casual look at the woodwinds and brass stopping on the various strings. It reaches out with its hand, and looks at Ilya. He nods, before reaching over and picking up a bow. It lifts a violin, looking it over. Ilya hefts a viola, putting it his chin, and demonstrates how to play. It studies him as he plays, noting the various methods of producing sounds. It puts the violin up to its chest, laying its tail across the chin rest to hold it steady.

"To each there own..." comments Ilya as he hands it a bow. It takes it in its hand, and plays a few random notes, learning the tonal differences between a violin and viola.

Ilya looks at a clock on the wall.

"I have the time... let's see if I can teach you to read sheet music."

Interesting.

All very nice - but it would be an improvement if it was explained what the Tanori and Envori are.... due to the lack of explanations, it gets a little confusing.

Otherwise, I like it. Particularly the novel idea that in the future, women would be considered better suited to military service than men. And the character of El-Tee certainly deserves further development in the future.

BTW- Not to be shamelessly self-promoting, but I've posted another chapter of my original story. Be sure to check it out while you're in this forum.

XaLEv wrote:Interesting.

Is this all I ever get?

*looks down a post*

Oh, never mind...

but it would be an improvement if it was explained what the Tanori and Envori are.... due to the lack of explanations, it gets a little confusing.

Yeah, I'll get around to actual descriptions in a few (dozen) more chapters, don't worry about it.

Otherwise, I like it. Particularly the novel idea that in the future, women would be considered better suited to military service than men. And the character of El-Tee certainly deserves further development in the future.

HAs to doue with patience and agressiveness. A woman is willing to think things through when a guy is more likely to charge headlong and get his head blown in. That, and woman pay attention to detail (like, for example, that trip wire three feet ahead)

BTW- Not to be shamelessly self-promoting, but I've posted another chapter of my original story. Be sure to check it out while you're in this forum. :Wink:

*Shruggs* Shamless plug? I've done a couple of those.

Singular Quartet wrote:

BTW- Not to be shamelessly self-promoting, but I've posted another chapter of my original story. Be sure to check it out while you're in this forum. :Wink:

*Shruggs* Shamless plug? I've done a couple of those.

Hehe - for me, it's almost the only way to get comments. But I'll promise that I'll do my best to reduce future shameless plugs. (My signature contains information about progress on the story - so I'll expect people to check my story out as soon the sig says something new about my story)

Simon H.Johansen wrote:

Singular Quartet wrote:

BTW- Not to be shamelessly self-promoting, but I've posted another chapter of my original story. Be sure to check it out while you're in this forum. :Wink:

*Shruggs* Shamless plug? I've done a couple of those.

Hehe - for me, it's almost the only way to get comments. But I'll promise that I'll do my best to reduce future shameless plugs. (My signature contains information about progress on the story - so I'll expect people to check my story out as soon the sig says something new about my story)

Well, now, there's an idea.... shudda thought of that earlier.

Singular Quartet wrote:

Simon H.Johansen wrote:

Singular Quartet wrote: *Shruggs* Shamless plug? I've done a couple of those.

Hehe - for me, it's almost the only way to get comments. But I'll promise that I'll do my best to reduce future shameless plugs. (My signature contains information about progress on the story - so I'll expect people to check my story out as soon the sig says something new about my story)

Well, now, there's an idea.... shudda thought of that earlier.

Don't count on it helping that much - I'm occassionally aggravated by the fact that it's hard to get people to comment on my story without shameless plugs.

Simon H.Johansen wrote:

Singular Quartet wrote:Well, now, there's an idea.... shudda thought of that earlier.

Don't count on it helping that much - I'm occassionally aggravated by the fact that it's hard to get people to comment on my story without shameless plugs.

Grr... I know what you mean... hnn... *thoughts, thoughts, evil thoughts going through my head....*

Okay, I only read the first part of it, but the only thing I can critique as of yet is the lack of knowing what the surroundings are like. There are trees. But what else? Daytime? Nighttime? Cloudy? Hot? Cold? What is it like for the riders? How long have they been travelling? Keep in mind that I've yet to read the rest of the sections, though. Other than that, the dialect is very well done. However, I am confused about the Envori. Are they being ridden? As well, how would one "reach up" to grab the guy?

~ver

verilon wrote:Okay, I only read the first part of it, but the only thing I can critique as of yet is the lack of knowing what the surroundings are like. There are trees. But what else? Daytime? Nighttime? Cloudy? Hot? Cold? What is it like for the riders? How long have they been travelling? Keep in mind that I've yet to read the rest of the sections, though. Other than that, the dialect is very well done. However, I am confused about the Envori. Are they being ridden? As well, how would one "reach up" to grab the guy?

~ver

Hmm... weather gets described later, commentary that says there underbrush is mentioned in the next section... day or night doesn't really matter because they're all wearing nightvision equipment. How long they've been traveling hasn't, hwoever, been mentioned yet... that, actually, should get stated in about... two-four chapters... No, wait... it isn't. Crap.... let me check my notes.

My fastest update for anything I've written... almost sad, almost not.


- Did you see the report on them?

- Yes. My paranoia says something is behind it, however.

- All ours does, although we have yet to determine what or how... although we have reverse engineered the organ.

- Have you used it?

- No. Nor does anyone have any intent on it, either. It feels... wrong to do so.

- It would, I suppose... Tell them to keep the plans to themselves. I have no want for temptation, and I am glad they did not include it.

- They have no intent on giving it away, either.

- Good... what of the their movements?

- They have made their presence known in orbit around this world.

- Any possibilities as to why?

- CC-13 may be encrouching into that area.

- No, that's to expected. They generally have something a bit more deranged in mind... could the CC-13 have spotted them?

- Possiblely. We aren't sure, however, if they've made it to there yet.

- Damn. I'll get Infuriating Principles, Ethically Challenged, and Beyond Help on it... and why do they choose to name themsleves?

- Blame it on Collateral Damage. Speaking of names, she has informed me that the Hipsvinai are having a wonderful time.

- They always disturbed me.

- They never disturbed him.

- Nothing disturbed him, and I'm not him.

- True enough. Until next time, then.

- Yes, until next time.

Hmmm... getting mysterious. Also, the 6th chapter of my fic is... oops, caught myself there.

Simon H.Johansen wrote:Hmmm... getting mysterious. Also, the 6th chapter of my fic is... oops, caught myself there.

Please, I've plugged myself around three times already. Don't worry about it.

Oh, and by the way, it's just now that I've posted Chapter 6....

Simon H.Johansen wrote:Oh, and by the way, it's just now that I've posted Chapter 6....

You sir, have no shame. Not that I care.

Excuse me while I act like I have readers (they're rather quiet... *hint* *hint*) and post some more...



"So what exactly are we doing, today?"

"Showing you the other rule of war in this hellhole, if they're willing."

"Huh... Dev, you see anything out there?"

"I don't see shit. They claim there are six of them, sometimes a seventh. Given they can fool them, I'd say there're likely more."

"Well, its an improvement," remarks Markova.

"Over what?" asks the lieutenant.

"Seeing something, then suddenly having your head blown off as you tell your comrades they're here," responds Havro.

"That doesn't give me peace of mind," says Dev. "And that's all most of us have left."

Havro stares at the massive cyber for a second before looking back out into the jungle.

"Think they'll attack?"

"Hard to say. Right now, I think they're watching us, figuring out what you folks are, before they attack." Havro thinks for a moment, before adding. "I'm betting Dev will say his voices will only see three next time."

"They ain't voices. They's just a nice happy little printout at the bottom of my vision. Gets spliced right into what used to be my optic nerve."

Havro prunes a small bit of underbrush, and, without stopping, continues trotting through the jungle.

"We actually doing anything?"

"Supposedly, we're hunting enemy resistance and wiping it out, but as far as any of us are concerned, we're the hunted, and we don't even bother running."

"Dahmet, wha ded Dandazi sey yestadah!"

"Oh, fine. We'll stop getting you to quake in your saddles. Sheesh... take all the fun out of this job..."

Dev lifts one of his arms, and points it out into the surrounding jungle. He shifts it around, pointing it at various things, before stopping and letting it fall back to its side.

"Quick buggers," was his only statement.



Base Commander Vashta stares out at the attending soldiers. Seated a few feet away is Captain Silas.

"Due to pressures from behind, and the fact that patrols haven't met anything in three days, we're going to do something incredibly stupid."

Captain Silas sighs, and stands up. "Due to the natives adeptness at not getting spotted, it has been decided that we're going to try cutting down the forest in a general direction towards the line." Silas looks towards the back of the room. "Do you two wish to add something to the briefing?"

Markova raises himself off the floor. "Yes. I would like to remind both the Captain and the Base Commander, that my unit's base was wiped out when our forces attempted a similar plan. My unit survived because we were on long range patrol at the time."

"We are fully aware of that... Unit Leader Markova, is it?"

"That is correct."

"Did you know how your Base Commander went about with the operation?"

"Yes. He used six shielded lasers to cut down trees at range, protected by several smaller gunners."

"And what happened?"

"On a short investigation by my unit, we guess that the enemy launched a full scale assault on right opposite side of the base."

"Right opposite side?"

"Pentagonal base construction, sir. Smaller fortifications are built that way for personnel constraints."

"Ah. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. Most records of the attack were destroyed in the opposing force's cleanup. Long range patrols don't maintain contact with base, so we received no information about the attack until we returned. From the wreckage, our weapons expert guessed a combination of unknown heavy weapons and gauss sniping was used to remove fortifications, followed by what appeared to be an extremely one-sided firefight. Most of the base was gutted in the attack, and we found no survivors or missing persons. Upon our return, it was mutually decided to make our way to the nearest base, being this one."

"And when was this?"

"We returned to our old base eighteen days ago. We arrived here at the same time you did. They had released their cleanser plants on the base, and based on some of the growth estimates I have seen, I guess that the attack was over... one to three days before we had arrived back at base."

Silas nods. "And what would you recommend we do to prevent this from happening to us?"

"Well, I would advise that we flat out not do it. It would likely wind up as a waste of both personnel and resources."

"Thanks to orders from on high, that's not an option."

"Then you have a few options open. You could do the exact same thing they did, however that would suffer the exact same mistakes. We could attack from all sides, however that would spread forces thin, and they would simply need to follow a divide and conquer model."

Vashta takes over. "Good. You identified the inherent and glaring weaknesses in both plans. So what would suggest?"

"A compromise between both plans. Since the base is hexagonal in design, attack from three sides. It maintains decent fire coverage for all sides, and also keeps forces concentrated."

Silas interjects. "Any other thoughts as to this plan?"

Markova remains silent.

"Lieutenant?"

"Captain, you know how I hate being put in the spot light."

"Stow it, El-Tee."

"Yes sir. We don't position a force in front of the front gate. We position the forces to the sides of it."

"And why is that, Lieutenant..." Vashta pauses.

"It's simply just El-Tee, Base Commander. The front gates face down straight, open road for about thirty clicks, and the four shielded door guns can deal with anything that tries it. It'd be a waste to put soldiers there, and the door guns can be used as additional backup for the two adjacent sides"

"Excellent, both of you. Now, as you've just learned, that's the entire outline of the briefing. The rest is details. You will be given them to be distributed to your soldiers."

Silas and Vashta watch as the various species of soldiers left the auditorium.

"You normally put soldiers on the spot like that?"

"Yes. It makes an excellent grooming procedure, slowly getting them to think about the job they are likely to attain."

"They still need to think about being a Unit Leader."

"True, but what happens when we die?"

"We become statistics. You become heroes." Silas stands and leaves the auditorium.