Original short story - comments welcome
Posted: 2003-09-12 01:34pm
Ooc: I was bored and had a day at home with nothing to do, so I thought I could as well write something to waste my time. I'm a crappy, non-english amateur, so...have mercy. 
The road slowly crawled up the tree-covered slopes of the hills. Thick fog hung around the peaks of the grey mountains miles away from them, and thousands of yards above them. The five transporters resembled armoured personel carriers, but run on four high rubber wheels each. Their hulls shone of pale silver, and red crests were painted on each side of the vehicles. Behind darkened windows the drivers steered their transporters upward the for them unknown roads. And in the cold and humid air, filled with the mist of the mountains, black crows drew their circles.
"Da'arii, stay on your seat!" the sharp call of her mother draw the eight circlings old girl back to her seat in the roomy back of the second shai'wan. "I told you before that I don't want you running around, taking our drivers' attention away from that horrible road." She gave do'oraan Vanteka and his younger companion, the female do'oran Xintish a friendly and forgiving smile, tipping her apricot-coloured forehead with her right middle-finger; the traditional gesture for showing regret.
The old, already purple-haired Vanteka just gave her a growling laughter and waved his six-fingered hand, showing her that he and his comrade were very well able to master the road.
"Don't wory, Mistress Grzeesu. This may be new terrain for us, but the people who built this road knew very well how to maintain it. We will bring you and your children safely to your husband." Rising the flanks of his deep-laying nose he snorted, as did do'oran Xintish, thus supporting the statement of her chief. Vanteka smiled, showing his black-as-the-night teeth.
"And Mistress, I have no problems with Da'arii or Ventu running around, unless they touch the panels. Of course, only if you allow it," he added after a pause, bowing towards the mistress.
Grzeesu returned his gest with a friendly nod. She already liked the somewhat gruffy veteran that drove her personal shai'wan. do'oraan Vanteka had been telling war stories and parts of his life for the four hours their tour had been lasted till now, seemingly ignoring that he carried a lady of noble blood and not a platoon of infantrymen, and Grzeesu, the mother of two lovely children, Da'arii and her younger brother Ventu, was grateful for it. She hated being treated like some flower that would break apart at the sight of only the sligthest change of her established environment, and she enjoyed the company of commons like the two do'orans.
And the kids enjoyed their stories. Well, Vanteka's stories. The younger female did hardly more than throw in a line once in a while, and seemed a bit shy. More shy than she would be if it wasn't for her presence, the mistress thought.
Her two children, Da'arii and Ventu were here whole pride, the girl already resembling the beauty of her mother, the boy showing the stern and serious face of his father. Their parents had choosen well to marry her and Frizaa of House Mentshu. Working as an higher official in the administration he had been sent to this world to guide the creation of the new administration after the population had been pacified.
Grzeesu didn't have much sympathy for the natives. They had started an unprovoked attack against the explorer fleet that had opened first contact with them. Her people had reacted with a military campaign to conquer those savages. Under their guidance, they would hopefully develop in a more mature manner. Still, she didn't understand why her husband hadn't send them a glider to bring his family to his new position. According to the reports the native resistance had long died down, and all was quiet and peaceful. Grzeesu was looking forward to meet her husband again, and even more she was looking forward to her new profession she'd undertake their, the one of a teacher. It would be a gratious effort to bring those people the knowledge and kindness she had been taught herself. It would be a good deed, and would certainly be a good way to heal the wounds their campaign had created. Maybe even...
The road went up the slopes straight for almost a thousand yards. There were people between the trees, hidden in the brush and in holes they had dug themselves. They carried a multitude of arms, their clothes meld with their background, their faces blackened or hidden behind masks. An elderly, bearded one held a finger to his right ear, nodding, a cold fire glowing in his dark eyes.
"Understood, Bravo Platoon. You have your orders....Roger."
The mistress Grzeesu and her children were singing a song when the convoy came to an abrupt halt. The hard-pushed brakes made Ventu and his sister fly through the whole interior, hitting the hull hard. The both of them started to cry, while do'oraan Vanteka already had started to curse the gods for what was happening. He stopped when he followed his companion's view through his frontal window, and at the same moment the sound of thunder hit the vehicle hard. The lead shai'wan rose from the ground almost two yards high before it fell apart like a balloon filled with too much breath. Only moments later all went to hell.
The sound of a thousand cracking whips filled the air. The same moment, the shai'wan's driver's window vanished in a storm of splinters. Vanteka dropped off his seat, his eyes wide open, his boody covered with bleeding holes. Even though her mind was filled with panic, she instantly realized he was dead. do'oran Xintish, the veteran's colleague sat still in her seat, blood dripping from her lips. With pain-filled eyes she managed to turn her head towards the mistress and her screaming children. Grzeesu felt like screaming too when she saw the huge wound on the other side of the young woman's neck.
"Run!" Like a whisper, the voice of the wounded female passed the distance between them. The mistress didn't dare to move. Fear filled her heart. The woman's eyes widened, and with a last effort she screamed a single word, spitting blood. "RUN!"
And she did run. With each of her hands she grabbed one of her kids and opened the back hatch of the shai'wan. Hastily she climed outside the damaged vehicle, and without wasting a nother thought she pulled her offspring after her towards the woods, throwing herself down when they had reached the safe trees. She turned her view back to the column of shai'wans, and she felt her stomach rebel. Both, the lead and the last vehicles were nothing but burning wrecks, hardly resembling the silverish transporters they had once been. And there were people coming from the woods. Wielding strange weapons, they killed the do'oraans that jumped into their way to fight them. The other vehicles, now also her own one, were littered with holes of all sizes. Many do'oraans were already dead, she could see. Only around the fourth shai'wan a small group of do'oraans held out, using the vehicle as cover, shooting the blue rays of their blaster guns.
Then, at incredible speed, a thing maybe the size of her own fist slammed into the vehicle, tearing it and the people besides it apart as if they were made of paper. Like a wave the attackers stormed out of the cover of the woods. Using large metal barrs to break open the hatches of the remaining vehicles, or simply climbing through the broken windows, small groups stormed the remaining vehicles. Again, the loud, cracking sounds of their weapons could be heard. And they did pull some of the surviving do'orans out of the wrecks, summoning them before the shai'wans.
Grzeesu suddenly felt a something cold and hard being pushed into her back brutally and froze. Slowly, she turned around, only to see one of the native attackers stand above her, pointing a metal barreled weapon now at her chest. Da'arii and Ventu hid behind her back, full of fear. Grzeesu tried to look into her opponents eyes, but all she found there was cold, glowing hate. He pointed his weapon at her again, then down towards the others. The mistress knew what he wanted, and she knew she had to comply, if only for the sake of her children. She could see it in the dark eyes. The very sign of resistance would mean death.
Carefully she trodded back down, always feeling the cold barrel in her back. Now she could see who had attacked them. It were maybe forty of the natives, all in uniforms and other military clothes she knew from the news reports. And up from the hill came with a rattling and growling sound a vehicle. It was dark green, almost black, flatter than the shai'wans, and was running un wide tracks. On it's top a small battery of missiles pointed in their direction. And as cruel and unrestrained the attackers had appeared just moments ago, so disciplined they seemed now. A bearded male, the only one who's face was not in some way hidden gave a rough order to a man besides him. This one pointed at three others who instantly stepped forward, drawing smaller weapons that had hung on their sides. Grzeesu didn't know what they were doing. But she soon found out.
Totally calm, as if they were doing something absolutely normal, the three men went back to the burning wrecks and the damaged shai'wans, and again the ear-hurting cracks thundered through the clear mountain air. Grzeesu only realized what they were doing when they came to the do'oraans that had held the last vehicle, and in shock she covered the eyes of her children. Placing themselves above or besides the laying bodies, the men pointed their weapons again at them. A native pulled the trigger of his short weapon, and almost instantly the head of the do'oraan on the ground rocked back and forth, a small pillar of black blood erupting from his forehead.
The three men stepped back in line, the bearded one nodding.
It was as if time was standing still. For minutes, it seemed, the natives just looked at them, at Grzeesu and her children and at the three other that knelt besides them. Taking a step forward, teh bearded one broke the spell. This time it was at him to draw his weapon. Grzeesu, the well educated daughter of a noble family that had grown up in total peace still could not fully grasp what was going on, that what was happening really did happen. Not until the native had done another step, placed his weapon directly against the forehead of the first kneeling do'oraan and had decided to spray the man's brain against the hull of the shai'wan behind him. And she began to cry. Crack! The sound thundered through the mountains. And again. Crack! It drew closer to her.
Finally, she begun to scream. She didn't mind that the natives didn't understand her.
"Why?! Why are you doing this to us! Why!" Tears run down her cheeks. "I came as a teacher, I came here to help you understand us. My husband is a high official in the administration, you cannot do this! For the love of the gods, why this bloodshed? Have mercy, spare my children..." She broke down, sobbing. She could see the bearded's black and muddy boots. He looked down at her.
"Mercy." He repeated the word in her language, his fingers squeezing the grip of his weapon, showing how much he had to restrain himself to speak so coldly. "Do you even know the meaning of the word?" Grzeesu looked up in surprise as he spoke the words clear and loud in her tongue. "Oh, look, the savage can speak," he chuckled coldy in a mocking voice, staring down at her. "Yes, the savage can also build multi-million people metropols, the savage can split and fusion the atom, and the savage went to the stars already." He shook his head, anger glowing red like fire in his tired eyes.
"Where was mercy when you destroyed New York and Chicago, huh? Where was mercy when you annihilated London and Moscow? Where was mercy when you erased 15 million people in the Ruhr region?" His voice had risen, and he spit down besides her, waving his weapon in his right hand.
"Where was mercy when your people killed sixty million of us while we welcomed you with open arms, where, tell me!" he yelled. His view held all the hate of the world when he looked down again to her.
"That's a lie!" The words left her mouth like a long-restrained stream. "We came in peace. We did send unarmed explorers and you opened fire on them, we-"
A hit of his flat hand stopped her tirade and threw her head back.
"Foolish alien!" He hissed his words at her like a snake while he grabbed her head with his free hand, pulling her closer, up to him.
"We had no weapons that could have ever harmed your ships without endangering ourselves. We hailed you, welcomed you with open arms. The people celebrated in the streets, as for the first time we would make contact with our brothers from space. For the short time, there was peace on our planet. Do you really think we would've used our nuclear weapons above our own cities?" He shook his head and let go of her.
"And you answered our calls of friendship with the bombardment of our homes."
He turned away from her, his view turning away from the scene, remembering what once had been.
"You said we should spare your children, alien. I had children, too. Two lovely girls. Who spared them? You didn't, your people burnt them to ashes." He rose his gun. Grzeesu drew her children closer to her chest.
"Mercy," she whispered again.
"Mercy has long left the world of humans," he uttered in a voice both cold as death and burning as hell. And the world turned black forever.
A man stepped besides the bearded one.
"Sir, we have new orders from HQ. Seems as if the 1st Army Ranger and elements of the 115th and 328th National Guards are mounting a major counter-offensive near Pittsburgh. A Canadian armoured brigade will come from the north, too."
The bearded one nodded, no longer wasting any looks down at the dead aliens. "Prepare the men. We head north."
The road slowly crawled up the tree-covered slopes of the hills. Thick fog hung around the peaks of the grey mountains miles away from them, and thousands of yards above them. The five transporters resembled armoured personel carriers, but run on four high rubber wheels each. Their hulls shone of pale silver, and red crests were painted on each side of the vehicles. Behind darkened windows the drivers steered their transporters upward the for them unknown roads. And in the cold and humid air, filled with the mist of the mountains, black crows drew their circles.
"Da'arii, stay on your seat!" the sharp call of her mother draw the eight circlings old girl back to her seat in the roomy back of the second shai'wan. "I told you before that I don't want you running around, taking our drivers' attention away from that horrible road." She gave do'oraan Vanteka and his younger companion, the female do'oran Xintish a friendly and forgiving smile, tipping her apricot-coloured forehead with her right middle-finger; the traditional gesture for showing regret.
The old, already purple-haired Vanteka just gave her a growling laughter and waved his six-fingered hand, showing her that he and his comrade were very well able to master the road.
"Don't wory, Mistress Grzeesu. This may be new terrain for us, but the people who built this road knew very well how to maintain it. We will bring you and your children safely to your husband." Rising the flanks of his deep-laying nose he snorted, as did do'oran Xintish, thus supporting the statement of her chief. Vanteka smiled, showing his black-as-the-night teeth.
"And Mistress, I have no problems with Da'arii or Ventu running around, unless they touch the panels. Of course, only if you allow it," he added after a pause, bowing towards the mistress.
Grzeesu returned his gest with a friendly nod. She already liked the somewhat gruffy veteran that drove her personal shai'wan. do'oraan Vanteka had been telling war stories and parts of his life for the four hours their tour had been lasted till now, seemingly ignoring that he carried a lady of noble blood and not a platoon of infantrymen, and Grzeesu, the mother of two lovely children, Da'arii and her younger brother Ventu, was grateful for it. She hated being treated like some flower that would break apart at the sight of only the sligthest change of her established environment, and she enjoyed the company of commons like the two do'orans.
And the kids enjoyed their stories. Well, Vanteka's stories. The younger female did hardly more than throw in a line once in a while, and seemed a bit shy. More shy than she would be if it wasn't for her presence, the mistress thought.
Her two children, Da'arii and Ventu were here whole pride, the girl already resembling the beauty of her mother, the boy showing the stern and serious face of his father. Their parents had choosen well to marry her and Frizaa of House Mentshu. Working as an higher official in the administration he had been sent to this world to guide the creation of the new administration after the population had been pacified.
Grzeesu didn't have much sympathy for the natives. They had started an unprovoked attack against the explorer fleet that had opened first contact with them. Her people had reacted with a military campaign to conquer those savages. Under their guidance, they would hopefully develop in a more mature manner. Still, she didn't understand why her husband hadn't send them a glider to bring his family to his new position. According to the reports the native resistance had long died down, and all was quiet and peaceful. Grzeesu was looking forward to meet her husband again, and even more she was looking forward to her new profession she'd undertake their, the one of a teacher. It would be a gratious effort to bring those people the knowledge and kindness she had been taught herself. It would be a good deed, and would certainly be a good way to heal the wounds their campaign had created. Maybe even...
The road went up the slopes straight for almost a thousand yards. There were people between the trees, hidden in the brush and in holes they had dug themselves. They carried a multitude of arms, their clothes meld with their background, their faces blackened or hidden behind masks. An elderly, bearded one held a finger to his right ear, nodding, a cold fire glowing in his dark eyes.
"Understood, Bravo Platoon. You have your orders....Roger."
The mistress Grzeesu and her children were singing a song when the convoy came to an abrupt halt. The hard-pushed brakes made Ventu and his sister fly through the whole interior, hitting the hull hard. The both of them started to cry, while do'oraan Vanteka already had started to curse the gods for what was happening. He stopped when he followed his companion's view through his frontal window, and at the same moment the sound of thunder hit the vehicle hard. The lead shai'wan rose from the ground almost two yards high before it fell apart like a balloon filled with too much breath. Only moments later all went to hell.
The sound of a thousand cracking whips filled the air. The same moment, the shai'wan's driver's window vanished in a storm of splinters. Vanteka dropped off his seat, his eyes wide open, his boody covered with bleeding holes. Even though her mind was filled with panic, she instantly realized he was dead. do'oran Xintish, the veteran's colleague sat still in her seat, blood dripping from her lips. With pain-filled eyes she managed to turn her head towards the mistress and her screaming children. Grzeesu felt like screaming too when she saw the huge wound on the other side of the young woman's neck.
"Run!" Like a whisper, the voice of the wounded female passed the distance between them. The mistress didn't dare to move. Fear filled her heart. The woman's eyes widened, and with a last effort she screamed a single word, spitting blood. "RUN!"
And she did run. With each of her hands she grabbed one of her kids and opened the back hatch of the shai'wan. Hastily she climed outside the damaged vehicle, and without wasting a nother thought she pulled her offspring after her towards the woods, throwing herself down when they had reached the safe trees. She turned her view back to the column of shai'wans, and she felt her stomach rebel. Both, the lead and the last vehicles were nothing but burning wrecks, hardly resembling the silverish transporters they had once been. And there were people coming from the woods. Wielding strange weapons, they killed the do'oraans that jumped into their way to fight them. The other vehicles, now also her own one, were littered with holes of all sizes. Many do'oraans were already dead, she could see. Only around the fourth shai'wan a small group of do'oraans held out, using the vehicle as cover, shooting the blue rays of their blaster guns.
Then, at incredible speed, a thing maybe the size of her own fist slammed into the vehicle, tearing it and the people besides it apart as if they were made of paper. Like a wave the attackers stormed out of the cover of the woods. Using large metal barrs to break open the hatches of the remaining vehicles, or simply climbing through the broken windows, small groups stormed the remaining vehicles. Again, the loud, cracking sounds of their weapons could be heard. And they did pull some of the surviving do'orans out of the wrecks, summoning them before the shai'wans.
Grzeesu suddenly felt a something cold and hard being pushed into her back brutally and froze. Slowly, she turned around, only to see one of the native attackers stand above her, pointing a metal barreled weapon now at her chest. Da'arii and Ventu hid behind her back, full of fear. Grzeesu tried to look into her opponents eyes, but all she found there was cold, glowing hate. He pointed his weapon at her again, then down towards the others. The mistress knew what he wanted, and she knew she had to comply, if only for the sake of her children. She could see it in the dark eyes. The very sign of resistance would mean death.
Carefully she trodded back down, always feeling the cold barrel in her back. Now she could see who had attacked them. It were maybe forty of the natives, all in uniforms and other military clothes she knew from the news reports. And up from the hill came with a rattling and growling sound a vehicle. It was dark green, almost black, flatter than the shai'wans, and was running un wide tracks. On it's top a small battery of missiles pointed in their direction. And as cruel and unrestrained the attackers had appeared just moments ago, so disciplined they seemed now. A bearded male, the only one who's face was not in some way hidden gave a rough order to a man besides him. This one pointed at three others who instantly stepped forward, drawing smaller weapons that had hung on their sides. Grzeesu didn't know what they were doing. But she soon found out.
Totally calm, as if they were doing something absolutely normal, the three men went back to the burning wrecks and the damaged shai'wans, and again the ear-hurting cracks thundered through the clear mountain air. Grzeesu only realized what they were doing when they came to the do'oraans that had held the last vehicle, and in shock she covered the eyes of her children. Placing themselves above or besides the laying bodies, the men pointed their weapons again at them. A native pulled the trigger of his short weapon, and almost instantly the head of the do'oraan on the ground rocked back and forth, a small pillar of black blood erupting from his forehead.
The three men stepped back in line, the bearded one nodding.
It was as if time was standing still. For minutes, it seemed, the natives just looked at them, at Grzeesu and her children and at the three other that knelt besides them. Taking a step forward, teh bearded one broke the spell. This time it was at him to draw his weapon. Grzeesu, the well educated daughter of a noble family that had grown up in total peace still could not fully grasp what was going on, that what was happening really did happen. Not until the native had done another step, placed his weapon directly against the forehead of the first kneeling do'oraan and had decided to spray the man's brain against the hull of the shai'wan behind him. And she began to cry. Crack! The sound thundered through the mountains. And again. Crack! It drew closer to her.
Finally, she begun to scream. She didn't mind that the natives didn't understand her.
"Why?! Why are you doing this to us! Why!" Tears run down her cheeks. "I came as a teacher, I came here to help you understand us. My husband is a high official in the administration, you cannot do this! For the love of the gods, why this bloodshed? Have mercy, spare my children..." She broke down, sobbing. She could see the bearded's black and muddy boots. He looked down at her.
"Mercy." He repeated the word in her language, his fingers squeezing the grip of his weapon, showing how much he had to restrain himself to speak so coldly. "Do you even know the meaning of the word?" Grzeesu looked up in surprise as he spoke the words clear and loud in her tongue. "Oh, look, the savage can speak," he chuckled coldy in a mocking voice, staring down at her. "Yes, the savage can also build multi-million people metropols, the savage can split and fusion the atom, and the savage went to the stars already." He shook his head, anger glowing red like fire in his tired eyes.
"Where was mercy when you destroyed New York and Chicago, huh? Where was mercy when you annihilated London and Moscow? Where was mercy when you erased 15 million people in the Ruhr region?" His voice had risen, and he spit down besides her, waving his weapon in his right hand.
"Where was mercy when your people killed sixty million of us while we welcomed you with open arms, where, tell me!" he yelled. His view held all the hate of the world when he looked down again to her.
"That's a lie!" The words left her mouth like a long-restrained stream. "We came in peace. We did send unarmed explorers and you opened fire on them, we-"
A hit of his flat hand stopped her tirade and threw her head back.
"Foolish alien!" He hissed his words at her like a snake while he grabbed her head with his free hand, pulling her closer, up to him.
"We had no weapons that could have ever harmed your ships without endangering ourselves. We hailed you, welcomed you with open arms. The people celebrated in the streets, as for the first time we would make contact with our brothers from space. For the short time, there was peace on our planet. Do you really think we would've used our nuclear weapons above our own cities?" He shook his head and let go of her.
"And you answered our calls of friendship with the bombardment of our homes."
He turned away from her, his view turning away from the scene, remembering what once had been.
"You said we should spare your children, alien. I had children, too. Two lovely girls. Who spared them? You didn't, your people burnt them to ashes." He rose his gun. Grzeesu drew her children closer to her chest.
"Mercy," she whispered again.
"Mercy has long left the world of humans," he uttered in a voice both cold as death and burning as hell. And the world turned black forever.
A man stepped besides the bearded one.
"Sir, we have new orders from HQ. Seems as if the 1st Army Ranger and elements of the 115th and 328th National Guards are mounting a major counter-offensive near Pittsburgh. A Canadian armoured brigade will come from the north, too."
The bearded one nodded, no longer wasting any looks down at the dead aliens. "Prepare the men. We head north."
