Stranded on a Tiny Planet

After the grim task of burning the pieces of the slain Rogashay and the sand dragons, Merco placed Boroxle on his shoulder and he and the three Ansheetans made their way through the forest toward the distant ship that grew larger and more detailed the closer they came. Eventually, Merco realized he needed to get low in order not to be seen above the trees. Ducking down he stealthily crept until finally they were near the edge of the tree line where the forest met the Wasteland. He all but laid on his belly, keeping a very low profile as he stared out over the mauve sands at the dark-metaled ship. He wasn’t totally familiar with the ship’s design. It wasn’t an Earth military ship and it wasn’t big enough to be a commercial cargo ship. It was a sizeable ship and Merco could see several weapon arrays and radar devices bristling on its outside. In any case it didn’t look like something from Earth.

But there was one thing Merco was certain of and that was he needed that ship to get home. The question now was were the occupants of the ship willing to give him transport or was he going to have to take the ship by force? He honestly didn’t want to resort to hijacking someone’s ship, but the sudden urge to return home and see his family again now tore at him with the sighting of this ship.

Anu, Traynar, and Pixie all landed in a tree just above his head while Boroxle perched on his back and shoulder.

“Do you know the ship?” Traynar asked quietly but loud enough for Merco to hear him.

“No.” The man whispered back.

The ship appeared idle and the engines were quiet. All the outer doors and ramps were closed so he couldn’t see who was piloting the vessel.

“Think we’ll have to wait and watch until someone comes out.” He conjectured in a quiet tone.

The three Ansheetans nodded and settled in the higher branches of the trees above him, scouting. Boroxle watched the ship intently as well. It was almost an hour before finally the ship hissed and groaned, lowering its outer ramp. The group went silent with anticipation of who would emerge from the huge ship. With a casual gait, a white-skinned figure wearing a dark shirt and pants with numerous holsters and high-tech accoutrements descended the ramp. He was slight of build but almost as tall as Merco.

But what Merco noticed was the distinct dark blue mohawk dividing the halves of his bulbous white head and the double sets of goggles that covered his four eyes.

He knew that alien.

"Shiiit.” Merco swore in his language, hissing.

Pixie landed on his opposite shoulder noting his intense stare, “What? What is it Merco?”

“That’s one of the mercenaries who dumped me here.”

“What is it?” Boroxle asked as he stared at the tall mohawked alien, “It’s not your species.”

Merco shook his head, speaking in a whisper even though the mercenary was too far away to hear him, “I’m not exactly sure what kind of alien he is...but he’s the pilot. He’s also the one who did most of the talking...which means he’s the brains of the pair.”

“Pair?”

“Yeah. He’s got a partner...a Gret’nal.”

“What’s a Gret’nal?” Pixie asked.

Merco grit his teeth slightly, “Looks kinda like a sand dragon on two legs, but a lot bigger, a lot stronger, and way nastier. I don’t see him just now.”

“So, they are dangerous?” Traynar inquired seriously.

Merco nodded, “Very.”

Boroxle’s eyes were intense, “Which one killed my son and my people?”

“The other one...the Gret’nal.” Merco confirmed.

Given Boroxle’s horrid description of his son and sand dragon’s fate and the pieces they found in the Rogashay camp, Merco knew of nothing else that would leave such carnage.

“Then that’s the one I need to kill,” the Rogashay leader growled with assurance.

Merco grunted but held his tongue for now. He didn’t know much about the pilot or his abilities but his frame didn’t bespeak of brute strength. Still... if he was a mercenary he definitely was not shy about lawbreaking and murder for hire. Merco could only guess he was a weapons specialist given his utility belt adorned with laser pistols and charges.

A Gret’nal, on the other hand, was raw bestial power wrapped in an armor of tough skin and scales and weaponized with claws and hundreds of razor-edged teeth. Even on his best day when he was a young man he couldn’t beat a Gret’nal in a hand to hand fight. A weapon would even the odds but all he had was a pocketknife and his prosthetic arm. It was two against one and he was weaponless. He couldn’t win against those odds. But now it was clear that he was going to have to take their ship and the only way to do that was to kill both of the mercenaries.

Merco glanced up in the tree over him at the three Ansheetans, “We need to go back to Anashee and warn everyone about this.”

He slowly backed up in a crawl until he was crouched again. Cautiously he walked in a ducked stoop beneath the treetops to avoid detection.

Boroxle hung onto his shirt but the smacked the side of Merco’s neck, “Where are you going? They’re right there! We can attack them while they...”

“Boroxle...” Merco interrupted sharply, “I know you want justice for your son and your people but this is not the time to attack.”

The Rogashay hissed with frustration, “You said you would help me!”

“I did and I will. But...these guys are mercenaries. They are paid to steal, destroy, and kill. We need a plan and there are other lives at stake here.”

He looked up at Anu and Traynar who were flying above him, “One of you should go to Trit and tell the Ansheetans there that they should evacuate. They are the closest to the mercenary ship and we don’t need another massacre.”

Traynar nodded and shot off quickly in that direction.

“Anu, you fly ahead to Anashee and tell Elder Felreh what you’ve seen.” He glanced back, “I don’t want to lead them to Anashee even by accident. Tell the Elder and the Council to meet me outside the borders in the first forest clearing so we can make a plan.” Merco ordered.

It was strange to both Anu and Pixie how Merco shifted to a more militaristic mindset. He seemed focused and slightly more intense. But the situation was growing ominous and he was adapting to the situation. With a curt nod Anu flew up and out toward Anashee as fast as she could fly. Merco watched her go, keeping his pace steady and low to avoid detection.

After a few moments Boroxle asked, “What’s your plan Merco?”

The man glanced at the Rogashay on his left shoulder, “I don’t know yet...”

Pixie meanwhile was growing more and more worried. The heinous scene at the Rogashay settlement was testament to what these alien mercenaries were capable of and it was horrific. It was everything the Ansheetans and Rogashay had feared of Merco when he first arrived. But he was not a being of malevolence and violence. These mercenaries were.

...

Much later in the clearing outside Anashee’s borders...

Merco had sat in the clearing for a few minutes with Pixie and Boroxle when the Ansheetan Council, the higher-ranking members of the EFP, and the Elder arrived. Traynar and Anu also arrived at different times.

It was in that moment that Boroxle scurried down Merco’s arm to the ground when he saw Kriees ride through the trees on her sand dragon Zay-za. She had escaped the horror of the other night. The pair rushed to each other and all but collided in an embrace of relief, their crests pressed together.

However, they both seemed to break when Boroxle told Kriees of their son’s fate. The female Rogashay hit her mate’s chest, grieving with buckled knees as the weight of her son’s death collapsed atop her.

It took her several minutes to compose herself enough to say in a strangled rasp, “It will die. Our son...our people... will be avenged.”

They gradually joined the gathering and Elder Felreh addressed Merco, “We are all here Merco, what can you tell us about these visitors?”

The man took a breath and began, “The ship that has landed in the Wasteland is a mercenary ship. These are the same mercenaries that dumped me here on your planet and I know they are not friendly nor peaceable.”

“What do these mercenaries want?” Commander Madala asked.

“I’m not sure exactly. But, mercenaries will do almost anything illegal for money; steal, kidnap, murder...doesn’t matter as long as it’s profitable.” He explained.

She gave him a hard look, “Did the signal we sent out for you bring them here?”

That thought had guiltily crossed Merco’s mind but given what he knew about mercenaries it didn’t add up for him, “Mercenaries don’t respond to distress calls on planets unless they think there’s profit in it. They’re sticking close to their ship which makes me think they’re here because they’re trying to hide on a habitable planet where the interstellar authorities won’t find them. No one knows of your planet except for me and them.”

“How many are there? What are they?” a member of the Council asked.

“There are two for certain. I don’t think there are more. They are not humans like me. The pilot’s species I’m not familiar with but he’s the planner and most likely the one calling the shots. The other is a Gret’nal and he’s the one who likely attacked the Rogashay settlement.”

He quickly explained the species and the looks of horror were evident on the Ansheetan’s faces. Boroxle and Kriees however looked intense with vengeance on their minds.

“Emissary Kriees and several Rogashay survivors arrived in Anashee today. They’ve told us of the atrocity that happened last night in their settlement.” The Elder explained, “Do you believe these mercenaries will attack again?”

Merco nodded, “This Gret’nal is a predatory species. They eat just about anything living...and he won’t hesitate to do so to any one of you. I’ve read Gret’nal’s can go for a few days without eating again but I won’t trust that fact. We don’t know how long they’re going to be here and clustering populations together makes his hunting easy. I would strongly recommend that the outlying settlements be evacuated. Especially those closest to the Wasteland.” He looked to Traynar, “Did Trit agree to evacuate?”

Traynar sighed, “Some were but many didn’t believe me enough to take action.” He looked to Commander Madala, “I think a second wave of EFP troops should be sent to aid in the evacuation and show the seriousness of the situation.”

The Commander nodded in agreement.

Another council member asked the giant, “Will you protect us?”

Merco nodded but said seriously, “I promise I will do what I can to defend you.” his expression became dour, “But... these mercenaries are extremely dangerous.”

Commander Madala stared at him carefully, noticing his expression change, “Can you defeat them ?”

Merco stared back and sighed, “No.”

That seemed to worry and horrify the gathered group at the same time. Merco didn’t want to admit that and make them lose hope, but he also needed to be honest and allow them knowledge of the danger they were in.

“They have an arsenal of weapons in that ship...I don’t have anything except wooden spears and my arm.” He flexed the prosthetic introspectively, “And I can’t kill that Gret’nal without a weapon.” he stated with conviction. “However, they don’t know I’m still alive, so that gives me the element of surprise. But without a suitable weapon I’m at an extreme disadvantage.”

“Then why fight them? Can’t we just remain hidden until they leave?” another Council member suggested.

Kriees and Boroxle didn’t like the sound of that statement, “We will NOT hide like cowards! Our people were slaughtered at these monsters’ hands and we will have justice for them!”

“And I need their ship.” Merco added, “In order for your peoples to be safe and for me to get home these mercenaries need to be gotten rid of.”

“You mean kill them.” Kriees gestured strongly.

Merco nodded grimly.

Then Traynar asked, “What if you could get one of their weapons?”

Merco tipped his head, “That would better my chances but there’s no way I could sneak aboard their ship undetected.”

“What about us?” Traynar postulated, “What if we got you one of their weapons?”

Commander Madala nodded, “Sneak aboard their ship, steal one of their weapons, and get it to Merco. THEN would you have a chance?”

Merco frowned, “I...I can’t ask you take that risk. Besides, it would take many of you to even move one of those weapons, never mind carrying it out of their ship undetected.”

“What if they were distracted somehow?” Anu piped up.

The man thought a moment, “A ship like that probably has proximity alarms. Something my size would trigger it but I don’t know if it could detect you. But...if you were to sabotage parts of their ship that would trigger alarms and they would come out to fix them.”

“Then when the door opens we can sneak in and find a weapon for you.” Anu stated.

“But if that door closes you’ll be trapped and there’s no guarantee they’ll both exit the ship.” Merco warned. “You can’t be seen or they’ll kill you.”

“Then we jam the door.” Traynar said with conviction, “We only need enough space for a weapon to fit outside. It doesn’t have to open all the way.”

Merco nodded, “Good point, but you can’t jam a heavy door like that very easily. Unless...unless you were able to disconnect the hydraulic lines that lift it then it wouldn’t go anywhere.” He frowned, “But you still have to get a weapon out of the ship and fly it all the way to the trees without being seen. They don’t know about you yet and they don’t know I’m still alive so if we can keep that then we have the element of surprise.”

“Our sand dragons.” Kriees suggested, “If the Ansheetans can drop a weapon out of that ship one of our sand dragons could carry it to the trees.”

The man scratched his beard with thought, “That might be inconspicuous enough. But it’s too risky... I can’t ask you to undertake such a plan.”

Elder Felreh raised her feathery crest, “Merco, if what you have said is true, these mercenaries are a threat to us all. If we don’t do this then more lives could be lost. You are our best chance of defeating them and if we can give you a better chance to do that, then it’s worth the risk.” She looked to her left, “Commander Madala. Divide our EFP troops into squadrons for this mission.”

Commander Madala flipped her crest in a salute and began preparations with her EFP subordinates.

As the bustle of planning was underway, Merco was thinking deeply about everything.

A thought that ate at him was the idea that he would not be able to bring down these mercenaries. He wasn’t as young and strong as he once was. If he lost and they killed him, the Ansheetans would have little chance of repelling them. If they killed him he would never see his family again and they would never know what became of him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tiny touch to the left side of his neck. His eyes tipped in their sockets to see Pixie leaned up against him, her eyes distant with what looked like worry. Very delicately he brought his opposite hand up and touched her back in a gentle pat.

He knew what he had to do. He had two families to fight for; the one he wanted to get to and the one he had formed here on Anshai-tee. But he dreaded bringing back that old part of him that he left behind in the war. He never wanted to see that part of him again but he knew it was absolutely needed for this mission.

...

...

That night...

It took some time to get everything coordinated. Their plan had to be worked and reworked until they were certain everyone knew their part in it. Trit had been evacuated through the day and the population dispersed across the lake and into the forest to make themselves less of a target should the Gret’nal go out hunting again.

There were three teams made for the operation: a saboteur team that would provide the distraction by activating the proximity alarms and pulling any wires they could find to get the mercenaries to come out of the ship; a weapon retrieval team that would sneak aboard the ship, find a weapon for Merco, and drop it outside the ship; and finally a transport team made of Rogashay and two sand dragons that would haul the acquired weapon to the shelter of the forest. They were all dressed in mauve and gray uniforms that blended in with the Wasteland sands and they also hoped the cover of darkness would keep them undetected.

Merco meanwhile would remain out of sight and out of range to avoid detection unless something went wrong in which case he would look for the glowing energy spears to begin waving as a signal to come. He had to remove and hide the shirt given to him by the Pela citizens as it glowed in the dark and he didn’t want to be seen yet. Quietly he hid in the forest nearby just in visual range.

Traynar was part of the weapon retrieval team and Anu was part of the saboteur team. Pixie was sent back to Anashee with the Elder, despite her protests of wanting to remain by Merco’s side. He adamantly denied her request, not wanting her anywhere near should he be prematurely discovered and have to engage the mercenaries sooner than he planned. When the teams were gathered and ready the plan was enacted.