Here you will find a variety of genres of fiction. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy the material. All feedback and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Sincerely, Goth Writer.
THE SKORSIS DOSSIERS pt. 2
Posted 06-04-2009 at 11:41 PM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-12-2009 at 03:06 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-12-2009 at 03:06 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
I wondered how I could have been so confident in my duties as a Balancer. The thought of conducting a dissection procedure on a skorite seemed inhumane now that I was on their territory, seeing through their eyes.
Suddenly it seemed like we were hovering, invisible within the Network Security Headquarters. The elders were consoling.
Don’t be alarmed. We want to share with you what we have dreamed. Your compatriots are planning many things of which you are ignorant.
Captain Iguana and Doctor Mbabwe sat alone in the darkened briefing forum. They were in the middle of a heated argument. Captain Iguana was angry.
“I don’t want anymore screw-ups. This time I say we revive a real soldier from cryosleep. What have you got from the Synthsis Cadre?”
“Are you serious?”
Doctor Mbabwe was equally frustrated.
“Have you forgotten what happened the last time they activated a cyborg programmed for extinction?”
“How do you think we won the Synthesis Wars?”
“Some of those species are still recovering. Some species were completely obliterated!”
“There is no substitute for cost-effectiveness.”
“You insensitive bully! What about the possibility that Balancer Graylion has run into some unexpected contingency preventing him from reporting? Don’t you think you should give him the benefit of the doubt?”
“I have no doubts. This is insubordination, plain and simple. In the Network, failure to comply with orders is punishable by immediate Acquisition, Tranquilization and Execution.”
Captain Iguana was not swayed by Doctor Mbabwe’s words.
“Computer, begin cryosleep revival program, Cyborg Six.”
In the cold, dark storage cells of the Security Headquarters a convoluted, mutant mind began to dream.
Dr. Mbabwe was upset with Captain Iguana’s murderous intentions.
“I’ve had it with you and your Network. You people never did appreciate or understand the ethical responsibilities inherent in genetic manipulation.”
She left the Network briefing forum and began the necessary preparations to get down to Skorsis.
“Is the world going insane?” she declared aloud. “I’ve got to warn the people down there about the cyborg.”
The elders slowed the dreaming. The multitudes of mindvoices from throughout the planet diminished until we were alone. Sunwolf, the elders, Arthur, a few other hunters and I remained in the nucleus of the enclave.
Sunwolf said, “Captain Iguana is a madman. I had my doubts about him during the Synthesis Wars. Those were desperate times and a lot of people who had no business in the Network were let in. That was before our Indoctrination, though, wasn’t it, Graylion?”
I was also surprised at the rash nature of the decision of Captain Iguana.
“We’ve got to contact the miners at Tranquility, otherwise they won’t even know what hit them.”
Sunwolf addressed the skorite hunters and the elders.
“We must leave. Graylion and I will travel to the mining colony and warn them about this cyborg. We can leave some weapons here. The utility lasers are quite…”
That won’t be necessary, interrupted the elders. We have our own ways of protecting ourselves. When the time comes, we will be ready.
Arthur led us out of the enclave and along a mountain trail heading down to the foothills. We traveled for the next five days. By the following morning we could see the coast. Settled within a shallow ravine in the foothills was the mining town, Tranquility.
Arthur spoke with his mindvoice.
This is as far as I go. The last time I ventured further I was assaulted by one of those digging machines.
The town was built on the delta of two rivers. The roads were bordered by dilapidated shanties made from corrugated tin, wood and adobe. The miners were a hardy lot. Most worked driving large drills from shaft to shaft.
A burly, tattooed miner stopped his vehicle, a device with a long conveyer belt covered with steel scoops.
“You guys look new here. I’d say you’re looking for Burgomeister Chavez. You’ll find her in the Bow and Hammer down this road, first tavern on the left.”
We followed the miner’s advice and entered the rough-looking tavern.
The music was nearly deafening. The band, if you could call it a band, was the most motley group of individuals I’d seen since my Indoctrination. The synth-lute player was a jaguar woman.
The drummer and bassist/vocalist were both dressed lavishly.
I grabbed the arm of one of the waitresses and yelled into her ear.
“We’re looking for Burgomeister Chavez!”
She yelled back.
“You’re looking at her!”
She pointed at the musicians entertaining the crowded tavern.
I didn’t know what to say.
“The bass player, are you serious?”
She smiled.
“No, silly, the synth-lute player.”
I thanked the waitress and approached the Burgomeister after the song finished.
“My name is Graylion. This is Sunwolf. We came here as representatives of the Network. Now we represent someone else, a people that are native to this planet.”
Burgomeister Chavez led us to a more secluded corner of the Bow and Hammer.
“This is a desert wilderness in more ways than one. If it wasn’t for the nightly show, we’d all be bored to death or at each other’s throats half the time.”
Despite her garb, which was reminiscent of the late Renaissance, Burgomeister Chavez seemed like a down-to-earth person.
“Allow me to introduce a man who is my head of security, and a personal friend.”
Across the table from where Sunwolf and I sat was a muscular, Stygian mutant. He was tattooed with a tribal style.
“Caleb,” said the man who extended his hand in greeting.
The stage crew finished arranging and tuning the equipment for the next act, a reggae band.
Caleb stared at us with his three, feline eyes.
“If you’re from the Network then you can explain how our prospecting units have been failing all over our southwestern perimeter. What kind of animal can shatter the magnesium housing on those units?”
Sunwolf explained the territorial needs of the skorite hunters to Caleb.
The music was wonderful. It made me think that despite the differences between we Network mutants and the alien elders, there was more in common than appeared on the surface. The music of the saxophone wailed in a unique way.
“There is the potential for a lasting, peaceful coexistence between the miners and the skorites,” offered Sunwolf.
“Unfortunately our ex-employer is about to introduce a third variable into the mix, a defrosted cyborg from the Synthesis Wars.”
The Stygian Caleb looked confused.
“What does this cyborg have to do with us? Why should we care what happens to those unit-destroying, super bugs? They have been costing us copper.”
“You should care because you share a common environment,” argued Sunwolf. “You miners may have a different origin and story of how you came to be here on Skorsis, but the fact of the matter is that this is your home now. It is yours and theirs.
“Secondly,” continued Sunwolf, “the Synthesis Wars were an ugly time for all of us. The cyborg represents the worst of the internecine genocide of that era. If one of them is reanimated it won’t know that the War is over. To a ruthless cyborg we are all going to be seen as expendable, xenomorph threats to the Hydrodyne Corporation’s expansionist interests. Efficiency and cost-effectiveness are the new gods of the Network home world. Anything that stands in the way of the juggernaut of progress is going to be eradicated.”
“What exactly does this cyborg do that is so worthy of our concern?” demanded Caleb.
“If anyone makes trouble in Tranquility, the Burgomeister throws them in the hoosegow.”
Unfortunately I did know.
“When I was a Phalanx Leader my troops were ordered to respond to a distress call from some godforsaken system in the Scutum Arm. The enemy landed on the newly inhabited planet’s surface and the colonists panicked. They activated a cyborg from their cryotanks. It was a big mistake. By the time my men got down there, nothing was left; no enemy, no Network colonists, just the shriveled husks of the poor, de-liquified souls. It was all that remained after being sucked dry by that cyborg.”
“What can we do, then?” replied the Stygian.
“Shall we just go out like that?”
Caleb did not look ready to acquiesce.
“We can hide in the old mines and fight the thing on our own turf.”
Burgomeister Chavez was kind enough to offer Sunwolf and me sleeping quarters. This was despite the fact that we planned to sleep lightly, if at all.
“There’s plenty of room in the tunnels along the old, depleted copper veins beneath the town.”
In the streets of Tranquility miners and vendors sealed off their homes and booths. The frightened mutants would depend on the expended shafts of the earliest, initial mines that now lay unused and vacant. An intersecting network of lateral and vertical corridors permeated much of the soil under the town and delta.
The agora was a central marketplace in which many businessmen gathered, looking to barter copper for goods or vice versa, all under the watchful eye of Network tithing clerks. It was a bustling conglomeration of tents in the street. They stood from the front of the Bow and Hammer and extended along the rest of the trading district.
Now there was only the occasional, lonely mongrel that rummaged for edible tidbits among the discarded inventory, forgotten in the wake of the already spreading news of the coming cyborg.
Caleb rose and was about to leave the tavern when I was startled to hear a somewhat drunken miner yell.
“It’s a good thing this monster is coming. Maybe it will relieve us hard-working miners from the bureaucrats that have their fingers in every Network pocket from their precious tithes.”
“Is this going to be the second time this month that I have to throw you in the cooler, Gnash? Why don’t you go sleep it off?”
Burgomeister Chavez gathered herself to her fullest possible stature. She pierced the intoxicated, zebra miner with an icy, maternal stare. Caleb stood beside her. Together the tri-optic Stygian and the sometime musician made an intimidating pair.
“What should I care?”
The nonplussed, black and white-striped mutant had equine features. His dilated irises glinted with a belligerence that told me this was not the first time a miner had spoken his mind about what he saw to be unfair Network monopolization of the groundside economy.
“We dig the copper. We breathe in the dust, dirt and toxic drill emissions and then have nowhere to buy food, grog, even the clothes on our backs except from these overpriced rip-offs.”
Gnash brought his face within inches of Caleb’s as he returned his punitive stare.
“The miners have been itching for breathing room from you management leeches. This cyborg is a blessing. When the cyborg is dead there’s going to be a new social order in this town.”
“That’s enough, Gnash. You’re out of control. Don’t make me have you tranquilized.”
I saw that Caleb’s ire was also rising.
“Let me buy everyone a drink and we’ll see if we can come to some sort of an understanding.”
Burgomeister Chavez wrapped her arms around the waists of Caleb and Gnash.
“We’re going to need every able-bodied miner to help take down this monster. There is no time for divisionist revolts. We’ll deal with the issue of our independence from the Corporation after we resolve the priority of survival.”
It was early the next morning as Sunwolf and I were asleep in our corner of the main transport shaft under Tranquility that I was awakened by a familiar embrace.
It was Doctor Mbabwe. I was surprised to see her. I touched her fur to convince myself that she was real.
“Ibis,” I exclaimed, “what are you doing here? You didn’t need to come down to the surface to contact us.”
“Yes, well I didn’t want Captain Iguana or Anaximander to eavesdrop on my transponder signal so I just followed your global positioning implant beacon. Graylion, I came here to warn you of what Captain Iguana is planning…”
“To summon a cyborg from cryosleep,” I interrupted.
“What?”
Doctor Mbabwe was astounded.
“How did you know? You’ve been incommunicado for the last week.”
I described the abilities of the skorites to Ibis. I told her how the enclave was the communication terminal for their species and allowed them to observe events that transpired anywhere near their elder planet.
I took Doctor Mbabwe’s hand in mine and bestowed it with a kiss.
“I was afraid I might never see you again,” I confessed.
Both of us were smitten by a trembling shockwave emanating from the town above. Sunwolf awoke.
“What was that?”
“Graylion, listen to me. All of us must leave this place. It isn’t safe here. Cyborg Six is already up there in Tranquility.”
Ibis’ tone was fearful and urgent.
“Are we leaving? Good. I was getting tired of this place anyway.”
The miner, Gnash, emerged from the shadows of the transport shaft, laser unit in hand.
Sunwolf said cynically, “Hello, Gnash! I thought you were going to stick around to establish your new social order.”
Another shockwave rumbled through the tunnels. Small fragments of stone and earth knocked loose from the walls.
Gnash clutched his utility laser like a protective talisman.
“Caleb and the Burgomeister are fighting back. I can hear them!”
The miner’s brow was dotted with cold perspiration. He was several shades paler than he was in the Bow and Hammer the night before.
The Burgomeister arrived in the nick of time. Her face and hands were covered with char and ash. Her visage exuded her distress.
“Alas, Caleb insisted that I retreat. Our only chance is to escape through the sluice line that dumps into the delta.”
Gnash led us quickly to the sluice line, where large hoppers would normally drop mineral-rich ore into a canal that flowed through filters to the river junction. All of us were eager swimmers, considering it was our only means to exit Tranquility.
As we rode the current downstream we saw a column of black smoke reaching miles into the sky from its origin over the charred remains of what had been the mining town.
I thought about Captain Iguana. My onetime commanding officer was responsible for the slaughter of the miners. I was forced to admit that the Network home world was run by mutants with the same, monstrous apathy as the Captain but with a thousand times more power and resources at their disposal.
I was a part of it.
***
So ends Graylion’s Report. After the destruction of both the mutant settlement and the enclave of the skorite hunters, Captain Iguana withdrew all Network influence from the planet and it was deemed unsuitable for future colonization.
Although crushed by the annihilation of his home, Arthur led his people deep into the continent Remus to become the first of a new brood of elders in an enclave hidden far from alien intrusion.
Sunwolf, Gnash, Burgomeister Chavez, Ibis, Graylion and a handful of others were the only mutant survivors of the massacre at Tranquility. They too sought safety in the vast wilderness of Skorsis. Doctor Ibis Mbabwe and Balancer Graylion founded a race known only as the People of Skorsis.
They taught their children vigilance so that they may one day unite to confront the cyborg that still wanders the ruins of the Network mining colony.
--Felix Liebert, Andromeda Database
CHAPTER TWO: RECONSTRUCTION
After the diaspora of the skorites into the wilderness of their planet, little data was uplinked from that system. Generations passed and the scions of miners met with the offspring of Ibis and Graylion. They formed a new population of anthromorphs in the outer reaches of the Milky Way. Rather than pursue the environmentally hazardous and destructive policies of the Hydrodyne Company they adopted the philosophy of their parents.
The survivors bonded with the hive builders in pseudo-symbiosis. The telepathic xenomorphs kept the humans posted as to the presence of the xyrix carapacia and other, large predators native to their planet. In turn the expatriates helped the creatures to keep their hives safe and to complete their hunting cycles of the great, shelled mollusks.
The following is my compilation of satellite correspondence and high definition camera recordings of infrared and visible light that I found in the archives here at the database in Andromeda.
--Liebert
Redlion marched through the tropical terrain of Skorsis.
Grandfather Graylion did well to choose this place as a home, he thought.
The birds and wildlife of the area called out into the air. The young lion man was accustomed to the sounds of the natural world and relied on them to reveal places where hunting game were abundant. The anthromorph settlement, Serenity, was doing well, as was the transferred habitat of the skorites. Redlion was experienced with the movements of the hunters native to the planet. The people used the hunting tactics of the skorites as a model and secured a steady food supply of their own by mimicking their strategies.
The canopy of the tropical forest loomed high above the trail that Redlion hiked. The ferns and bushes were lush and bore a variety of colors ranging from bright green to auburn. Redlion enjoyed the foliage and frequently followed game trails and routes that were replete with prey. The people of Serenity thrived on the wildlife of the region and assembled maps indicating places where food was plentiful.
Unbeknownst to Redlion another cyborg had been released by Captain Iguana to the surface of Skorsis. This assassin was not programmed to awake until recently. Now the mechanical workings within the discharge craft, covered with vines and ivy, whirred and ticked with newfound electricity. The cyborg, Zarges, opened his eyes and watched the indoctrination program that the now absent captain left in the landing craft’s debriefing dossier.
“ … destroy the colony … eliminate the skorites … “
The cyborg exited from the landing craft and headed into the tropical forest. He was unfamiliar with the changes in the terrain. The roads and trees changed over the passage of years and Zarges needed time to become reoriented.
Redlion was unaware of the presence of Zarges when he was narrowly missed by a flurry of laser fire. The anthromorph dove for cover. He rolled behind a nearby log and ducked as he heard another blast of lasers strike the wood in front of him. Redlion activated his com-unit and addressed his friends, Nightwolf and Tigra, in Serenity.
“Hey guys, I can use some help here. A maniac is going crazy with a utility laser north of town. How soon can you get to my coordinates?”
“Tigra’s not here, Redlion. This is Nightwolf. I can ride my jet bike to your location in about ten minutes. You’ve got to hold your own until then.”
“I’ll do my best, Wolf. See you soon.”
Redlion ran in a serpentine pattern through the ferns and underbrush. He headed in the opposite direction of the random laser fire. As he moved the shots became increasingly inaccurate.
The red-haired explorer ran a while longer when Nightwolf appeared on a hovering jet bike. The vehicle stayed aloft with a pair of microjets. The high-powered hydrogen engines shifted from vertical to horizontal positions depending on the aircraft’s altitude and velocity. Redlion climbed aboard behind Nightwolf and they headed back to Serenity.
The townspeople were already aware of the prowling of the cyborg. Their global position surveillance systems alerted them to the digital activity in the sector as soon as the aged landing pod opened in the brush. The residents battened down the hatches of their stores and prepared themselves for battle. They remembered the stories of the previous destruction of the settlement of Tranquility and were prepared for such a contingency.
The anthromorphs had a variety of weapons at their disposal. These included blow torches, air guns and sharpened steel blades. They prepared their weapons and waited to see what would happen next.
Redlion helped Nightwolf to close the main gate of the settlement. It was constructed of bound wood covered with sheets of wrought iron. The friends joined the other guards on the scaffolding that was attached to the inner edge of the protective wall surrounding Serenity. The entire village was square in shape so that it would be easily defensible from an outside attack.
A volley of laser fire erupted from the nearby forest.
“Those blasts are the same as the ones I saw earlier,” said Redlion.
“Nightwolf, sound the alarm. We’ll need every able-bodied resident to help us repel this mysterious invader.”
A dozen villagers emerged from their homes and booths. They gathered with the town guards at the ramparts. They soon spotted Zarges roaming around the outer perimeter of their settlement. The cyborg unleashed a barrage of laser fire at the defenders who stood on the topmost level of the ramparts. The anthromorphs were prepared and each raised a reflective, metallic shield to protect themselves. The laser streams ricocheted off of the mirror-like shields and made smoldering patches in the dry brush surrounding the fort.
Redlion’s compatriots then issued fire of their own from their makeshift flamethrowers and bolt guns. Zarges was hit with some pieces of shrapnel and was mildly scorched by the jets of flame. The cyborg’s internal defense systems quickly repaired the damage and the predator continued his search for weaknesses around the outer rim of the settlement.
Other members of Serenity approached Redlion.
“What shall we do, Red?” asked a lupine anthromorph.
The rabbit-like humanoid carried a samurai sword and dagger in his waistband.
“It’s up to us to decide, Hopper. This invader must have been affiliated with the battle initiated by our ancestors. There are records of such cyborgs as the one before us in our community database. If we remain vigilant and focused we will overcome this newfound challenge.”
Zarges fired a pair of thrust rockets installed in his mechanized anatomy and scaled the outer wall of Serenity. The defenders of the village turned their mounted weapons 180 degrees and continued to bombard their adversary. A fierce battle ensued. Volleys of flame and laser fire were exchanged at a fast pace. Hopper tumbled along the ramparts, successfully evading a pair of missiles launched by the cyborg.
The rabbit anthromorph retaliated with his sharpened, steel blades. He rendered slashing blows to the armor of the cyborg, causing significant damage to the assassin’s electronic systems. Zarges’ armor sparkled and smoldered with rampant arcs of electricity. The attacker turned and fled to the surprise of the citizens of Serenity.
“Well done, Hopper,” said Redlion. “You made a lasting impression on the would-be invader. I expect that it will be some time before he returns to assault us again.”
The members of the settlement embraced Hopper in a warrior’s salute. They hoisted the lupine fighter aloft on their shoulders and yelled a trio of hurrahs.
“Please, my friends, we must prepare for another attack. There is no time for this foolishness.”
The anthromorphs lowered Hopper to the floor and he took a moment to clean his weapons of the plastic and grease left by the cyborg.
“We must hold a meeting,” said Redlion. “Send word throughout the settlement, my friends. A decision must be made. The cyborg invader is clearly a remnant of the struggle faced by our ancestors. We must act to protect our society. It would not bode well for us to wait here for the assassin to return. I suggest that we delegate a platoon of fighters willing to pursue our adversary before he regenerates from the damage we inflicted.”
“I agree, Red,” offered Nightwolf. “If memory serves the previous mining settlement of Tranquility was accosted by a cyborg similar to the one we faced today. The majority of the people were slaughtered within the walls of their town. I suggest that we hold council and pursue the cyborg in the wilderness. As you all know there are many hazardous creatures in the forests and plains of Skorsis. We will be on the alert for attacks from both the assassin and the native predators. Perhaps it would be wise to consult with the skorite hunters of the xyrix carapacia. They assisted our ancestors in the past and may be convinced to share their global communication abilities with us once more.”
Redlion and his companions spread word of the planned meeting throughout the settlement. In an hour the residents gathered at the center of the fort. The council of Serenity was filled by the eldest living anthromorphs. Their group was headed by Jack Rhinodon. He was a massive, hulking rhinoceros anthromorph. Among the gathering of elders sat Hopper and Ling Panda. Each of the dozen members of the council had narrowly escaped destruction by the initial cyborg assassin that was sent to Skorsis by Captain Iguana two generations ago.
Nearly all of the current residents of Serenity sat in chairs before the broad table of the anthromorph council. Jack Rhinodon was the first to speak.
“Welcome, all of you. As you already are aware another cyborg sent by the ancient Network has become activated of late. It was originally intercepted by Redlion who was chased to sanctuary here in Serenity. We are gathered here to determine our next course of action. Our chance for survival is greater than that of our ancestors in the now defunct settlement of Tranquility. We have weapons of our own device and a force of defenders that are armed and ready. Our companions, native to this planet, the skorite hunters, must be informed of the presence of the cyborg. They are also a sturdy group of hunters and will do well in the task of surveiling and confronting the new invader.”
“Jack, I volunteer for the search party to intercept the cyborg,” said Redlion.
“As do I,” said Hopper.
“Tigra and I also wish to join the group,” offered Nightwolf. “We can use the digital interfaces on our jet bikes to scan for the mechanically enhanced humanoid.”
“Very well, courageous fighters,” replied Jack Rhinodon. “Ling Panda and the rest of the elders will focus on raising the defensive capabilities of Serenity. We advise you to seek the assistance of the skorite hunters. They have their own means of defending themselves and will be interested to know of any potential threats to their large hive. The carapace hunter, known to our ancestors as Arthur, has successfully formed a new habitat in the depths of the old growth, tropical forest. I will download the coordinates of the xenomorphs’ location to your vehicles. Keep in mind that the cyborg assassin, if similar in disposition to his predecessor, will take the knowledge of any sentient habitat as an opportunity to predate it.”
“We will fly with caution, Rhinodon,” said Tigra. “We are adept pilots and will take care not to become disabled by the lasers and missiles of the malevolent cyborg.”
“Very well, young searchers,” declared Ling Panda. “We wish you luck in your endeavor and will contact you on your com-units if the Network cyborg returns to this location. Farewell.”
The platoon of anthromorphs exited from the council gathering to the applause of the residents of Serenity. They each mounted jet bikes and engaged their thrusters to maximum velocity. Trails of water vapor formed in the air behind the hydrogen-powered engines as they rose to cruising altitude above the walls of Serenity.
The searchers did not travel far over the great canopy of the native trees when their helmets’ heads up displays chirped. Their advanced, electromagnetic scanners indicated the proximity of Zarges.
The mechanized humanoid was engaged in battle with a handful of skorite hunters. The equine natives to the lush planet rolled and tumbled to evade the scorching laser beams emitted from the cyborg’s shoulder cannon. Several trees in the vicinity of the fight were chopped to pieces by the ruthless, Network attacker. The skorite hunters responded to the flurrying barrage by emitting a high frequency electronic burst. Zarges was clearly shaken by the counterattack and did not turn in time to intercept the diving platoon.
Tigra, the tiger anthromorph, was the first to unleash blasts of flame from the torches installed on her vehicle. The cyborg, would-be assassin was scorched from behind. It would take several minutes to regenerate from the damage instilled by the flamethrowers.
Zarges had no choice but to flee from the ensuing melee. He fired rockets built into his metallic feet to shoot through the massive, skorian trees. Numerous branches and boughs were broken by his blundering passage, leaving a trail of detritus on the shady forest floor.
“Now is our chance to destroy this hostile entity once and for all,” Hopper cried.
The rabbit anthromorph unsheathed his curved samurai blade and blasted his vehicle along the smoldering trail left by the Network cyborg.
“Wait, Hopper, we must tend to these brave skorites and proposition their support,” Tigra yelled.
The lupine fighter did not respond and continued on his chosen course.
“Let Hopper go, Tigra,” said Redlion. “We will track him with our global positioning devices. Let us consult with these skorites while the time is ripe.”
“Very well,” replied Tigra.
The orange and black striped anthromorph turned her vehicle from Zarges’ trail and decelerated to a stop at the group of fighters and xenomorphs.
Thank you for coming to our aid, hummed the largest of the five skorite hunters.
Each of them had minor injuries from their bout with the hostile cyborg but they were of little consequence.
We must confer with Arthur and the other elders in our habitat, said a smaller hunter. They will be thankful to know of the existence of this newfound adversary.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
Suddenly it seemed like we were hovering, invisible within the Network Security Headquarters. The elders were consoling.
Don’t be alarmed. We want to share with you what we have dreamed. Your compatriots are planning many things of which you are ignorant.
Captain Iguana and Doctor Mbabwe sat alone in the darkened briefing forum. They were in the middle of a heated argument. Captain Iguana was angry.
“I don’t want anymore screw-ups. This time I say we revive a real soldier from cryosleep. What have you got from the Synthsis Cadre?”
“Are you serious?”
Doctor Mbabwe was equally frustrated.
“Have you forgotten what happened the last time they activated a cyborg programmed for extinction?”
“How do you think we won the Synthesis Wars?”
“Some of those species are still recovering. Some species were completely obliterated!”
“There is no substitute for cost-effectiveness.”
“You insensitive bully! What about the possibility that Balancer Graylion has run into some unexpected contingency preventing him from reporting? Don’t you think you should give him the benefit of the doubt?”
“I have no doubts. This is insubordination, plain and simple. In the Network, failure to comply with orders is punishable by immediate Acquisition, Tranquilization and Execution.”
Captain Iguana was not swayed by Doctor Mbabwe’s words.
“Computer, begin cryosleep revival program, Cyborg Six.”
In the cold, dark storage cells of the Security Headquarters a convoluted, mutant mind began to dream.
Dr. Mbabwe was upset with Captain Iguana’s murderous intentions.
“I’ve had it with you and your Network. You people never did appreciate or understand the ethical responsibilities inherent in genetic manipulation.”
She left the Network briefing forum and began the necessary preparations to get down to Skorsis.
“Is the world going insane?” she declared aloud. “I’ve got to warn the people down there about the cyborg.”
The elders slowed the dreaming. The multitudes of mindvoices from throughout the planet diminished until we were alone. Sunwolf, the elders, Arthur, a few other hunters and I remained in the nucleus of the enclave.
Sunwolf said, “Captain Iguana is a madman. I had my doubts about him during the Synthesis Wars. Those were desperate times and a lot of people who had no business in the Network were let in. That was before our Indoctrination, though, wasn’t it, Graylion?”
I was also surprised at the rash nature of the decision of Captain Iguana.
“We’ve got to contact the miners at Tranquility, otherwise they won’t even know what hit them.”
Sunwolf addressed the skorite hunters and the elders.
“We must leave. Graylion and I will travel to the mining colony and warn them about this cyborg. We can leave some weapons here. The utility lasers are quite…”
That won’t be necessary, interrupted the elders. We have our own ways of protecting ourselves. When the time comes, we will be ready.
Arthur led us out of the enclave and along a mountain trail heading down to the foothills. We traveled for the next five days. By the following morning we could see the coast. Settled within a shallow ravine in the foothills was the mining town, Tranquility.
Arthur spoke with his mindvoice.
This is as far as I go. The last time I ventured further I was assaulted by one of those digging machines.
The town was built on the delta of two rivers. The roads were bordered by dilapidated shanties made from corrugated tin, wood and adobe. The miners were a hardy lot. Most worked driving large drills from shaft to shaft.
A burly, tattooed miner stopped his vehicle, a device with a long conveyer belt covered with steel scoops.
“You guys look new here. I’d say you’re looking for Burgomeister Chavez. You’ll find her in the Bow and Hammer down this road, first tavern on the left.”
We followed the miner’s advice and entered the rough-looking tavern.
The music was nearly deafening. The band, if you could call it a band, was the most motley group of individuals I’d seen since my Indoctrination. The synth-lute player was a jaguar woman.
The drummer and bassist/vocalist were both dressed lavishly.
I grabbed the arm of one of the waitresses and yelled into her ear.
“We’re looking for Burgomeister Chavez!”
She yelled back.
“You’re looking at her!”
She pointed at the musicians entertaining the crowded tavern.
I didn’t know what to say.
“The bass player, are you serious?”
She smiled.
“No, silly, the synth-lute player.”
I thanked the waitress and approached the Burgomeister after the song finished.
“My name is Graylion. This is Sunwolf. We came here as representatives of the Network. Now we represent someone else, a people that are native to this planet.”
Burgomeister Chavez led us to a more secluded corner of the Bow and Hammer.
“This is a desert wilderness in more ways than one. If it wasn’t for the nightly show, we’d all be bored to death or at each other’s throats half the time.”
Despite her garb, which was reminiscent of the late Renaissance, Burgomeister Chavez seemed like a down-to-earth person.
“Allow me to introduce a man who is my head of security, and a personal friend.”
Across the table from where Sunwolf and I sat was a muscular, Stygian mutant. He was tattooed with a tribal style.
“Caleb,” said the man who extended his hand in greeting.
The stage crew finished arranging and tuning the equipment for the next act, a reggae band.
Caleb stared at us with his three, feline eyes.
“If you’re from the Network then you can explain how our prospecting units have been failing all over our southwestern perimeter. What kind of animal can shatter the magnesium housing on those units?”
Sunwolf explained the territorial needs of the skorite hunters to Caleb.
The music was wonderful. It made me think that despite the differences between we Network mutants and the alien elders, there was more in common than appeared on the surface. The music of the saxophone wailed in a unique way.
“There is the potential for a lasting, peaceful coexistence between the miners and the skorites,” offered Sunwolf.
“Unfortunately our ex-employer is about to introduce a third variable into the mix, a defrosted cyborg from the Synthesis Wars.”
The Stygian Caleb looked confused.
“What does this cyborg have to do with us? Why should we care what happens to those unit-destroying, super bugs? They have been costing us copper.”
“You should care because you share a common environment,” argued Sunwolf. “You miners may have a different origin and story of how you came to be here on Skorsis, but the fact of the matter is that this is your home now. It is yours and theirs.
“Secondly,” continued Sunwolf, “the Synthesis Wars were an ugly time for all of us. The cyborg represents the worst of the internecine genocide of that era. If one of them is reanimated it won’t know that the War is over. To a ruthless cyborg we are all going to be seen as expendable, xenomorph threats to the Hydrodyne Corporation’s expansionist interests. Efficiency and cost-effectiveness are the new gods of the Network home world. Anything that stands in the way of the juggernaut of progress is going to be eradicated.”
“What exactly does this cyborg do that is so worthy of our concern?” demanded Caleb.
“If anyone makes trouble in Tranquility, the Burgomeister throws them in the hoosegow.”
Unfortunately I did know.
“When I was a Phalanx Leader my troops were ordered to respond to a distress call from some godforsaken system in the Scutum Arm. The enemy landed on the newly inhabited planet’s surface and the colonists panicked. They activated a cyborg from their cryotanks. It was a big mistake. By the time my men got down there, nothing was left; no enemy, no Network colonists, just the shriveled husks of the poor, de-liquified souls. It was all that remained after being sucked dry by that cyborg.”
“What can we do, then?” replied the Stygian.
“Shall we just go out like that?”
Caleb did not look ready to acquiesce.
“We can hide in the old mines and fight the thing on our own turf.”
Burgomeister Chavez was kind enough to offer Sunwolf and me sleeping quarters. This was despite the fact that we planned to sleep lightly, if at all.
“There’s plenty of room in the tunnels along the old, depleted copper veins beneath the town.”
In the streets of Tranquility miners and vendors sealed off their homes and booths. The frightened mutants would depend on the expended shafts of the earliest, initial mines that now lay unused and vacant. An intersecting network of lateral and vertical corridors permeated much of the soil under the town and delta.
The agora was a central marketplace in which many businessmen gathered, looking to barter copper for goods or vice versa, all under the watchful eye of Network tithing clerks. It was a bustling conglomeration of tents in the street. They stood from the front of the Bow and Hammer and extended along the rest of the trading district.
Now there was only the occasional, lonely mongrel that rummaged for edible tidbits among the discarded inventory, forgotten in the wake of the already spreading news of the coming cyborg.
Caleb rose and was about to leave the tavern when I was startled to hear a somewhat drunken miner yell.
“It’s a good thing this monster is coming. Maybe it will relieve us hard-working miners from the bureaucrats that have their fingers in every Network pocket from their precious tithes.”
“Is this going to be the second time this month that I have to throw you in the cooler, Gnash? Why don’t you go sleep it off?”
Burgomeister Chavez gathered herself to her fullest possible stature. She pierced the intoxicated, zebra miner with an icy, maternal stare. Caleb stood beside her. Together the tri-optic Stygian and the sometime musician made an intimidating pair.
“What should I care?”
The nonplussed, black and white-striped mutant had equine features. His dilated irises glinted with a belligerence that told me this was not the first time a miner had spoken his mind about what he saw to be unfair Network monopolization of the groundside economy.
“We dig the copper. We breathe in the dust, dirt and toxic drill emissions and then have nowhere to buy food, grog, even the clothes on our backs except from these overpriced rip-offs.”
Gnash brought his face within inches of Caleb’s as he returned his punitive stare.
“The miners have been itching for breathing room from you management leeches. This cyborg is a blessing. When the cyborg is dead there’s going to be a new social order in this town.”
“That’s enough, Gnash. You’re out of control. Don’t make me have you tranquilized.”
I saw that Caleb’s ire was also rising.
“Let me buy everyone a drink and we’ll see if we can come to some sort of an understanding.”
Burgomeister Chavez wrapped her arms around the waists of Caleb and Gnash.
“We’re going to need every able-bodied miner to help take down this monster. There is no time for divisionist revolts. We’ll deal with the issue of our independence from the Corporation after we resolve the priority of survival.”
It was early the next morning as Sunwolf and I were asleep in our corner of the main transport shaft under Tranquility that I was awakened by a familiar embrace.
It was Doctor Mbabwe. I was surprised to see her. I touched her fur to convince myself that she was real.
“Ibis,” I exclaimed, “what are you doing here? You didn’t need to come down to the surface to contact us.”
“Yes, well I didn’t want Captain Iguana or Anaximander to eavesdrop on my transponder signal so I just followed your global positioning implant beacon. Graylion, I came here to warn you of what Captain Iguana is planning…”
“To summon a cyborg from cryosleep,” I interrupted.
“What?”
Doctor Mbabwe was astounded.
“How did you know? You’ve been incommunicado for the last week.”
I described the abilities of the skorites to Ibis. I told her how the enclave was the communication terminal for their species and allowed them to observe events that transpired anywhere near their elder planet.
I took Doctor Mbabwe’s hand in mine and bestowed it with a kiss.
“I was afraid I might never see you again,” I confessed.
Both of us were smitten by a trembling shockwave emanating from the town above. Sunwolf awoke.
“What was that?”
“Graylion, listen to me. All of us must leave this place. It isn’t safe here. Cyborg Six is already up there in Tranquility.”
Ibis’ tone was fearful and urgent.
“Are we leaving? Good. I was getting tired of this place anyway.”
The miner, Gnash, emerged from the shadows of the transport shaft, laser unit in hand.
Sunwolf said cynically, “Hello, Gnash! I thought you were going to stick around to establish your new social order.”
Another shockwave rumbled through the tunnels. Small fragments of stone and earth knocked loose from the walls.
Gnash clutched his utility laser like a protective talisman.
“Caleb and the Burgomeister are fighting back. I can hear them!”
The miner’s brow was dotted with cold perspiration. He was several shades paler than he was in the Bow and Hammer the night before.
The Burgomeister arrived in the nick of time. Her face and hands were covered with char and ash. Her visage exuded her distress.
“Alas, Caleb insisted that I retreat. Our only chance is to escape through the sluice line that dumps into the delta.”
Gnash led us quickly to the sluice line, where large hoppers would normally drop mineral-rich ore into a canal that flowed through filters to the river junction. All of us were eager swimmers, considering it was our only means to exit Tranquility.
As we rode the current downstream we saw a column of black smoke reaching miles into the sky from its origin over the charred remains of what had been the mining town.
I thought about Captain Iguana. My onetime commanding officer was responsible for the slaughter of the miners. I was forced to admit that the Network home world was run by mutants with the same, monstrous apathy as the Captain but with a thousand times more power and resources at their disposal.
I was a part of it.
***
So ends Graylion’s Report. After the destruction of both the mutant settlement and the enclave of the skorite hunters, Captain Iguana withdrew all Network influence from the planet and it was deemed unsuitable for future colonization.
Although crushed by the annihilation of his home, Arthur led his people deep into the continent Remus to become the first of a new brood of elders in an enclave hidden far from alien intrusion.
Sunwolf, Gnash, Burgomeister Chavez, Ibis, Graylion and a handful of others were the only mutant survivors of the massacre at Tranquility. They too sought safety in the vast wilderness of Skorsis. Doctor Ibis Mbabwe and Balancer Graylion founded a race known only as the People of Skorsis.
They taught their children vigilance so that they may one day unite to confront the cyborg that still wanders the ruins of the Network mining colony.
--Felix Liebert, Andromeda Database
CHAPTER TWO: RECONSTRUCTION
After the diaspora of the skorites into the wilderness of their planet, little data was uplinked from that system. Generations passed and the scions of miners met with the offspring of Ibis and Graylion. They formed a new population of anthromorphs in the outer reaches of the Milky Way. Rather than pursue the environmentally hazardous and destructive policies of the Hydrodyne Company they adopted the philosophy of their parents.
The survivors bonded with the hive builders in pseudo-symbiosis. The telepathic xenomorphs kept the humans posted as to the presence of the xyrix carapacia and other, large predators native to their planet. In turn the expatriates helped the creatures to keep their hives safe and to complete their hunting cycles of the great, shelled mollusks.
The following is my compilation of satellite correspondence and high definition camera recordings of infrared and visible light that I found in the archives here at the database in Andromeda.
--Liebert
Redlion marched through the tropical terrain of Skorsis.
Grandfather Graylion did well to choose this place as a home, he thought.
The birds and wildlife of the area called out into the air. The young lion man was accustomed to the sounds of the natural world and relied on them to reveal places where hunting game were abundant. The anthromorph settlement, Serenity, was doing well, as was the transferred habitat of the skorites. Redlion was experienced with the movements of the hunters native to the planet. The people used the hunting tactics of the skorites as a model and secured a steady food supply of their own by mimicking their strategies.
The canopy of the tropical forest loomed high above the trail that Redlion hiked. The ferns and bushes were lush and bore a variety of colors ranging from bright green to auburn. Redlion enjoyed the foliage and frequently followed game trails and routes that were replete with prey. The people of Serenity thrived on the wildlife of the region and assembled maps indicating places where food was plentiful.
Unbeknownst to Redlion another cyborg had been released by Captain Iguana to the surface of Skorsis. This assassin was not programmed to awake until recently. Now the mechanical workings within the discharge craft, covered with vines and ivy, whirred and ticked with newfound electricity. The cyborg, Zarges, opened his eyes and watched the indoctrination program that the now absent captain left in the landing craft’s debriefing dossier.
“ … destroy the colony … eliminate the skorites … “
The cyborg exited from the landing craft and headed into the tropical forest. He was unfamiliar with the changes in the terrain. The roads and trees changed over the passage of years and Zarges needed time to become reoriented.
Redlion was unaware of the presence of Zarges when he was narrowly missed by a flurry of laser fire. The anthromorph dove for cover. He rolled behind a nearby log and ducked as he heard another blast of lasers strike the wood in front of him. Redlion activated his com-unit and addressed his friends, Nightwolf and Tigra, in Serenity.
“Hey guys, I can use some help here. A maniac is going crazy with a utility laser north of town. How soon can you get to my coordinates?”
“Tigra’s not here, Redlion. This is Nightwolf. I can ride my jet bike to your location in about ten minutes. You’ve got to hold your own until then.”
“I’ll do my best, Wolf. See you soon.”
Redlion ran in a serpentine pattern through the ferns and underbrush. He headed in the opposite direction of the random laser fire. As he moved the shots became increasingly inaccurate.
The red-haired explorer ran a while longer when Nightwolf appeared on a hovering jet bike. The vehicle stayed aloft with a pair of microjets. The high-powered hydrogen engines shifted from vertical to horizontal positions depending on the aircraft’s altitude and velocity. Redlion climbed aboard behind Nightwolf and they headed back to Serenity.
The townspeople were already aware of the prowling of the cyborg. Their global position surveillance systems alerted them to the digital activity in the sector as soon as the aged landing pod opened in the brush. The residents battened down the hatches of their stores and prepared themselves for battle. They remembered the stories of the previous destruction of the settlement of Tranquility and were prepared for such a contingency.
The anthromorphs had a variety of weapons at their disposal. These included blow torches, air guns and sharpened steel blades. They prepared their weapons and waited to see what would happen next.
Redlion helped Nightwolf to close the main gate of the settlement. It was constructed of bound wood covered with sheets of wrought iron. The friends joined the other guards on the scaffolding that was attached to the inner edge of the protective wall surrounding Serenity. The entire village was square in shape so that it would be easily defensible from an outside attack.
A volley of laser fire erupted from the nearby forest.
“Those blasts are the same as the ones I saw earlier,” said Redlion.
“Nightwolf, sound the alarm. We’ll need every able-bodied resident to help us repel this mysterious invader.”
A dozen villagers emerged from their homes and booths. They gathered with the town guards at the ramparts. They soon spotted Zarges roaming around the outer perimeter of their settlement. The cyborg unleashed a barrage of laser fire at the defenders who stood on the topmost level of the ramparts. The anthromorphs were prepared and each raised a reflective, metallic shield to protect themselves. The laser streams ricocheted off of the mirror-like shields and made smoldering patches in the dry brush surrounding the fort.
Redlion’s compatriots then issued fire of their own from their makeshift flamethrowers and bolt guns. Zarges was hit with some pieces of shrapnel and was mildly scorched by the jets of flame. The cyborg’s internal defense systems quickly repaired the damage and the predator continued his search for weaknesses around the outer rim of the settlement.
Other members of Serenity approached Redlion.
“What shall we do, Red?” asked a lupine anthromorph.
The rabbit-like humanoid carried a samurai sword and dagger in his waistband.
“It’s up to us to decide, Hopper. This invader must have been affiliated with the battle initiated by our ancestors. There are records of such cyborgs as the one before us in our community database. If we remain vigilant and focused we will overcome this newfound challenge.”
Zarges fired a pair of thrust rockets installed in his mechanized anatomy and scaled the outer wall of Serenity. The defenders of the village turned their mounted weapons 180 degrees and continued to bombard their adversary. A fierce battle ensued. Volleys of flame and laser fire were exchanged at a fast pace. Hopper tumbled along the ramparts, successfully evading a pair of missiles launched by the cyborg.
The rabbit anthromorph retaliated with his sharpened, steel blades. He rendered slashing blows to the armor of the cyborg, causing significant damage to the assassin’s electronic systems. Zarges’ armor sparkled and smoldered with rampant arcs of electricity. The attacker turned and fled to the surprise of the citizens of Serenity.
“Well done, Hopper,” said Redlion. “You made a lasting impression on the would-be invader. I expect that it will be some time before he returns to assault us again.”
The members of the settlement embraced Hopper in a warrior’s salute. They hoisted the lupine fighter aloft on their shoulders and yelled a trio of hurrahs.
“Please, my friends, we must prepare for another attack. There is no time for this foolishness.”
The anthromorphs lowered Hopper to the floor and he took a moment to clean his weapons of the plastic and grease left by the cyborg.
“We must hold a meeting,” said Redlion. “Send word throughout the settlement, my friends. A decision must be made. The cyborg invader is clearly a remnant of the struggle faced by our ancestors. We must act to protect our society. It would not bode well for us to wait here for the assassin to return. I suggest that we delegate a platoon of fighters willing to pursue our adversary before he regenerates from the damage we inflicted.”
“I agree, Red,” offered Nightwolf. “If memory serves the previous mining settlement of Tranquility was accosted by a cyborg similar to the one we faced today. The majority of the people were slaughtered within the walls of their town. I suggest that we hold council and pursue the cyborg in the wilderness. As you all know there are many hazardous creatures in the forests and plains of Skorsis. We will be on the alert for attacks from both the assassin and the native predators. Perhaps it would be wise to consult with the skorite hunters of the xyrix carapacia. They assisted our ancestors in the past and may be convinced to share their global communication abilities with us once more.”
Redlion and his companions spread word of the planned meeting throughout the settlement. In an hour the residents gathered at the center of the fort. The council of Serenity was filled by the eldest living anthromorphs. Their group was headed by Jack Rhinodon. He was a massive, hulking rhinoceros anthromorph. Among the gathering of elders sat Hopper and Ling Panda. Each of the dozen members of the council had narrowly escaped destruction by the initial cyborg assassin that was sent to Skorsis by Captain Iguana two generations ago.
Nearly all of the current residents of Serenity sat in chairs before the broad table of the anthromorph council. Jack Rhinodon was the first to speak.
“Welcome, all of you. As you already are aware another cyborg sent by the ancient Network has become activated of late. It was originally intercepted by Redlion who was chased to sanctuary here in Serenity. We are gathered here to determine our next course of action. Our chance for survival is greater than that of our ancestors in the now defunct settlement of Tranquility. We have weapons of our own device and a force of defenders that are armed and ready. Our companions, native to this planet, the skorite hunters, must be informed of the presence of the cyborg. They are also a sturdy group of hunters and will do well in the task of surveiling and confronting the new invader.”
“Jack, I volunteer for the search party to intercept the cyborg,” said Redlion.
“As do I,” said Hopper.
“Tigra and I also wish to join the group,” offered Nightwolf. “We can use the digital interfaces on our jet bikes to scan for the mechanically enhanced humanoid.”
“Very well, courageous fighters,” replied Jack Rhinodon. “Ling Panda and the rest of the elders will focus on raising the defensive capabilities of Serenity. We advise you to seek the assistance of the skorite hunters. They have their own means of defending themselves and will be interested to know of any potential threats to their large hive. The carapace hunter, known to our ancestors as Arthur, has successfully formed a new habitat in the depths of the old growth, tropical forest. I will download the coordinates of the xenomorphs’ location to your vehicles. Keep in mind that the cyborg assassin, if similar in disposition to his predecessor, will take the knowledge of any sentient habitat as an opportunity to predate it.”
“We will fly with caution, Rhinodon,” said Tigra. “We are adept pilots and will take care not to become disabled by the lasers and missiles of the malevolent cyborg.”
“Very well, young searchers,” declared Ling Panda. “We wish you luck in your endeavor and will contact you on your com-units if the Network cyborg returns to this location. Farewell.”
The platoon of anthromorphs exited from the council gathering to the applause of the residents of Serenity. They each mounted jet bikes and engaged their thrusters to maximum velocity. Trails of water vapor formed in the air behind the hydrogen-powered engines as they rose to cruising altitude above the walls of Serenity.
The searchers did not travel far over the great canopy of the native trees when their helmets’ heads up displays chirped. Their advanced, electromagnetic scanners indicated the proximity of Zarges.
The mechanized humanoid was engaged in battle with a handful of skorite hunters. The equine natives to the lush planet rolled and tumbled to evade the scorching laser beams emitted from the cyborg’s shoulder cannon. Several trees in the vicinity of the fight were chopped to pieces by the ruthless, Network attacker. The skorite hunters responded to the flurrying barrage by emitting a high frequency electronic burst. Zarges was clearly shaken by the counterattack and did not turn in time to intercept the diving platoon.
Tigra, the tiger anthromorph, was the first to unleash blasts of flame from the torches installed on her vehicle. The cyborg, would-be assassin was scorched from behind. It would take several minutes to regenerate from the damage instilled by the flamethrowers.
Zarges had no choice but to flee from the ensuing melee. He fired rockets built into his metallic feet to shoot through the massive, skorian trees. Numerous branches and boughs were broken by his blundering passage, leaving a trail of detritus on the shady forest floor.
“Now is our chance to destroy this hostile entity once and for all,” Hopper cried.
The rabbit anthromorph unsheathed his curved samurai blade and blasted his vehicle along the smoldering trail left by the Network cyborg.
“Wait, Hopper, we must tend to these brave skorites and proposition their support,” Tigra yelled.
The lupine fighter did not respond and continued on his chosen course.
“Let Hopper go, Tigra,” said Redlion. “We will track him with our global positioning devices. Let us consult with these skorites while the time is ripe.”
“Very well,” replied Tigra.
The orange and black striped anthromorph turned her vehicle from Zarges’ trail and decelerated to a stop at the group of fighters and xenomorphs.
Thank you for coming to our aid, hummed the largest of the five skorite hunters.
Each of them had minor injuries from their bout with the hostile cyborg but they were of little consequence.
We must confer with Arthur and the other elders in our habitat, said a smaller hunter. They will be thankful to know of the existence of this newfound adversary.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
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