Stranded on a Tiny Planet

Anu and her saboteur team sat hiding in the deep channels of ramp door, watching. They had to be on their toes if they were going to disconnect the door mechanics at the correct moment and avoid being crushed by them. Once Traynar and his team flew inside the ship it was a watching and waiting game...a dangerous one.

Half of the saboteur team remained toward the front of the ship to help lure out the mercenaries. So far they managed to get the big lizard-looking one to stomp outside. The other remained inside. It wasn’t long before the other mercenary exited the ship as well with a light and a metal kit of some kind; most likely a repair kit. The hulking lizard mercenary returned and went back into the ship which made Anu nervous for the weapon retrieval team. According to Merco that was the one that ate the sand dragons and several Rogashay the other night. He was the really dangerous one.

She hoped Traynar and his squadron could find something to help Merco and get out unseen. Several long minutes ticked by until finally the other mercenary with the Mohawk returned and walked up the ramp into the ship again. Then a massive mechanical droning sounded and the huge door began to raise up.

“Get ready!” Anu called over the cacophony of mechanical noises to her small team.

She held some wires and so did the others, ready to unplug them from their power source. Closer and closer the door raised, each moment threatening a horrible crushing death should they fail to shut it down.

“NOW!” she shouted.

As one the team pulled the wires and much to their relief the huge door’s hydraulic motors whined in a power down, stopping the action. There was plenty of room for a weapon and an Ansheetan to escape through.

Anu and her team slipped out of the crevice into the air to wait for the retrieval team. Someone whistled and from the sands nearby two sand dragons ridden by Boroxle and Kriees appeared below the ship. They waited.

Suddenly Anu’s heart leaped with dread when she heard several screams followed by a storm of thunderous bangs from inside the ship. A harsh metallic clang sounded and a big object fell haphazardly out of the partially closed ramp and thumped into the sand below. It was followed by the panicked flurry of fleeing Ansheetans. Anu’s eyes darted frantically trying to find Traynar in the frenzy of movement.

But she was distracted by a shout from Boroxle calling her down to help them. She darted down to help tie up the weapon to the two sand dragons’ saddles. When it was secure the two Rogashay leaders urged their steeds to the forest, dragging the weapon behind them. Several members of the EFP flew in behind them with sweeping branches to obscure their tracks and leave little trace should the mercenaries come searching.

“Back to the forest! Everyone!” one of the team leaders shouted.

The mission was complete.

Now it was time to assemble in the safety of the trees and meet up with Merco to give him the weapon they’d acquired. As she flew Anu’s eyes scoured the air for Traynar but it was too dark to see much of anything. A twinge of a bad feeling crept into her but she pushed it aside knowing she would probably see him at the rendezvous point.

...

On the ship...

Milliseconds from being eaten, Traynar now found himself clutched in the long-fingered hand of the other mercenary. Unlike Merco this giant had four fingers that were more closely designed to his own. He was holding him firmly but not to the point of hurting him. Traynar flinched with terror when the giant Gret’nal took an aggressive snap at both him and his partner’s hand. But much to his surprise the smaller mercenary whipped out a weapon from his belt and had it firmly stuck into the neck and chin of his partner. They spoke in that strange alien language Merco used. The white alien spoke in a higher tenor voice that sounded almost friendly despite his violent posturing and the Gret’nal spoke in a voice so deep and guttural it sounded more like growling than actual speech.

Finally, the two seemed to calm down and pull away from each other.

Traynar still was a bit disoriented from the violent shaking he’d endured. But his crest went up with alert when his vision was filled with the white alien’s dark goggles.. He could hear mechanical whirring and ticking from within the huge eye pieces as he was held up and scrutinized like a specimen

This mercenary had pure white skin that was smooth yet faintly scarred in places. His head was large and bulbous with strange forward pointing ear tips. Unlike Merco this alien didn’t have a protruding nose; more like a thick ridge of skin with four thin nostrils beneath. Not completely horrifying to look at like his partner, but Traynar didn’t feel the least bit safe either. This guy didn’t look like he’d eat him but he was sure he wasn’t a kind soul either.

The blue Mohawked giant stared at him carefully for a few moments before speaking with his counterpart.

...

“Hm.” Cresh murmured as he observed the tiny, green-skinned being dressed in what looked like a mauve colored jumpsuit that was the same color as the sand outside, “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Gurt grunted, “No...but they taste good.”

“I’ve never seen something like this either. But look...” he pinched at the uniform it wore, “...little clothes. This isn’t just some random animal. This little guy is a sentient species.”

“So?”

“So... this is probably what was messing with our ship...” he glanced at the slightly ajar door, “...and stole my knife. Now the disconnected lines make more sense.” he tightened his grip slightly when the little being tried to wriggle free, “You’re quite the little gremlin aren’t you? Trying to wreck our ship.”

Gurt growled, “Great. Mystery solved. Now can I eat it?”

Cresh waggled a finger at him, “Oh no, no, no. I can’t have you eating a potential profit.”

His partner’s reptilian eyes narrowed at him. “Profit?”

“Once again, you’re not seeing the big picture, Gurt. Think about it...neither of us have seen anything like this and we’ve been to how many worlds?”

Gurt shrugged, “A lot.”

“Exactly. Which means...this little thing is a rare species.”

“So?” the Gret’nal was growing more annoyed.

Cresh put an exasperated hand to his head, “[Sigh] Rare Gurt...rare species are worth a lot of money.” He glanced at the tiny little being in his hand, “And I saw quite a few more fly out the door just now. Which means...?”

“More money...”

“Exactly, Gurt. And we are the only ones who know where this planet is so we have exclusive access to these.” He held up the tiny humanoid.

Gurt frowned slightly, “But who would pay for something like that?”

Cresh smirked turning the tiny being around introspectively, “Well you say they taste good, maybe a rare delicacy...an exotic pet perhaps? I happen to know a couple filthy rich kooks who are always eager to buy the next rare, bizarre thing.”

The Gret’nal huffed, “So we’ve got to catch more?”

“Of course. Maybe just a dozen or so to test the market.” Cresh began looking for a container to put the captive in. “And even if it turns out they aren’t worth much, you can have them as a snack. Win, win.”

...

As the two mercenaries talked to each other, presumably talking about him, Traynar was trying to wriggle out of the hand that held him. If he could just get loose he could make a fast flight out the door and be free. But, the thin hand that held him wasn’t giving him any breaks. If anything, it was tightening the longer they conversed. He could now feel what Merco would be capable of doing were he not concerned with gentility.

Then with a slight movement the white-skinned mercenary crossed the ship to a series of drawers and touched one which opened electronically. Inside were numerous vials lined in foamed padding. He eyed them a moment and then went for a different drawer which contained larger specimen containers. He selected one that looked like a clear plastic rectangle and placed it on the ledge near his bunk. Before Traynar could react he was dropped down into it. Fast as he could Traynar flew up toward the opening. But a glow lit up the top of the container and he hit something invisible but solid. The Ansheetan combatant fell to the bottom of the clear container with slight pain and confusion.

What had he hit? There wasn’t anything covering the container!

As if he could read his baffled expression, the white giant tapped the seemingly open top and his finger made the top of the container light up with each touch.

“There we go. No escape for you. But don’t worry, this will allow you to breathe. I have a feeling you’ll be worth more alive than dead.” He spoke in that alien language.

Once again Traynar tried to fly out but not as forcefully. His hands touched an invisible wall which lit up every time he touched it. Like a desperate butterfly, he flew from one corner to the other trying to find a way out but there was no escape.

...

“Aw. And look at that. They fly too!” Cresh remarked, patting the plastic cage.

Gurt snarled peevishly and also returned to his bunk laying down with a grumble, “Fantastic...”

Cresh sighed and walked over to the ramp to inspect it, “Well...guess I’d better fix this before tomorrow. Then we’ll go out and see how many we can catch.”

...

At the rendezvous point in the forest...

Merco had been waiting patiently but nervously for several hours for the Ansheetans and Rogashay to return from the mission. He had no idea if they would succeed or not. They were smart, determined little beings but the opposition was huge, ruthless, and just as intelligent. He worried for their safety like members of his own band of military brothers. Sometimes everyone would return from an uneventful mission and other times only a handful would return if the mission turned deadly. It was always a sickening time of unease and uncertainty; seeing a friend at breakfast and being told that afternoon that they’d been KIA. Merco could feel his hand twitch with anxiousness at the familiar feeling. He clenched his fist to restrain the jitters.

A snapping in the trees made him perk his head and very soon from the dark two sand dragons ridden by Boroxle and Kriees appeared. Behind them they drug an object that was almost as big as the sand dragons themselves.

“Merco! We got a weapon!” Boroxle announced loudly.

The man smiled gratefully and shifted himself toward the object. His hand grasped the handle and he knew instantly that it was a large knife. His heart sank a bit with disappointment that it wasn’t a gun which would’ve given him a greater advantage. A knife meant he’d have to be much closer and personal with his opponent...much more dangerous. But when he unsheathed the dark colored blade he raised his eyebrows. It looked like a Czidin steel blade which was very rare. Czidin steel blades were said to be the hardest known alloy ever made with an edge so sharp you could look at it and get cut (or so it was marketed). But they were so expensive and rare that only the most wealthy and influential would own one. As far as knives went, it was the best he could’ve hoped for.

“Wow. This...this is a good knife.” He commented.

Boroxle nodded, “Does this even your odds?”

Though he knew a gun would’ve been better he said, “Yes. This helps.”

“Will it be enough to kill that monster who slaughtered our people?” Kriees asked with a serious and yet angered tone.

Merco nodded, “If I can get close enough and find a softer spot on him...there’s a chance.”

Commander Madala, who had remained at the rendezvous point to plan their next moves, flew down from her perch on the tree, “Tell me more of this Gret’nal. What are its weak points?”

Merco thought a moment and drew a rough outline of what somewhat looked like a Gret’nal, “In hand to hand they don’t have many.” He made dots in a couple places, “The eyes are always a good target and the juncture of the head and neck and the underside of the jaw is softer but it stretches so it’s harder to puncture. Everywhere else is thick, tough hide that even I would have trouble penetrating.”

Boroxle and Kriees glanced at the rough picture and then glanced up at Merco, “What about inside the mouth?”

The man dipped his head slightly, “Definitely a soft spot but the teeth are the last thing on a Gret’nal you want to be near. What are you thinking about?” he inquired.

Boroxle shifted his spear to a longer energy blade that was double pointed and barbed aggressively on both sides and held it up, “There are wild sand dragons in the Wasteland and they are dangerous to us and our tame dragons. If we want to kill them quickly we thrust one of these in the back its throat. It severs a major blood vessel and sometimes the connection to the spine.”

“That’s insanity!” Commander Madala balked.

“It works.” Boroxle stated definitively. “And I’m willing to bet this monster is very similarly designed.”

Merco’s expression was one of disbelief, “You’re saying you’d go inside a Gret’nal’s mouth and stab it like those sand dragons?”

The Rogashay nodded his crested head.

He thought about the wildly dangerous idea and though plausible, Merco shook his head, “I can’t have you risking your life so recklessly.”

“If I kill it then my sacrifice will not be for nothing.” Boroxle said definitively. “I swore I would get vengeance for my son and my people and I will do whatever it takes.”

Merco admired the brave Rogashay leader but still shook his head adamantly, “It’s suicide...”

“It’s victory.” Kriees insisted.

The man sighed and slid his jaw to the side slightly, ”Only if I can’t beat him...then I will consider your idea.” He glanced at the knife, “Problem is, it’s not just him we have to worry about. I can’t fight both of these guys at once because once I focus on one, the other will come in behind and kill me.”

“Then we need to separate them somehow...draw them away in opposite directions.” Commander Madala stated with concentration.

Merco nodded, “That’s what I was thinking too.”

The Commander was thinking, her feathery crest flicking, “I can divide our forces into two large squadrons; one for each mercenary. If we can distract or lead one in one direction and bring the other to you...”

“I could hide and ambush them one at a time.” Merco concluded. “But we need to keep this fight away from the settlements...and Anashee.”

The Commander nodded, “Pela Canyon would be an ideal place for an ambush...but there’s too many civilians there.”

“What about Bent Peak?” Kriees gestured, “That rock formation is away from settlements and there would be ample places for Merco to hide and ambush these mercenaries.”

Commander Madala nodded, “That could work... What do you think Merco?”

The man nodded as well, “I agree. And they still don’t know I’m alive so I’ll have the element of surprise.”

“Which one should we lead to you first?” the Commander asked.

Merco sighed weighing his options mentally. If he fought the Gret’nal first and was able to kill him, then the more dangerous opponent would be dealt with. However, the Gret’nal would be the more likely one to wound him in a fight and if he got hurt bad enough (which was likely) he couldn’t fight the other one. The biggest problem was he didn’t know anything about the white-skinned alien’s species to conjecture if he was the lesser danger. Either way, he was going to have to kill them both and he wasn’t sure if the order of death mattered...only his. If he was killed then the Ansheetans and the Rogashay would stand little to no chance against them.

“I...don’t think you’ll get much choice. Just make sure you split them up.” Merco finally admitted.

As he held the knife he began to notice the Ansheetans flying in toward the dim lights of the rendezvous point. He was greeted by them and they seemed hopeful when they saw him holding the knife which he then sheathed. Merco’s face brightened a bit when he saw Anu flying up to him. She landed on his gloved arm. He put down the knife and gently patted her shoulder and back with his finger.

“You made it back! Your mission was a success?” He stated in a congratulations.

She nodded and then her gaze wandered around, “Where’s Traynar? Has he come back yet?”

Merco frowned slightly and sat up straighter, staring around him, “I...haven’t seen him. But you all just showed up and I haven’t seen everyone yet.”

Anu’s expression held discomfort. Then she floated around the area and began calling for her mate. Not long after a couple members of the EFP approached her, their faces dour. Merco couldn’t hear their conversation but when Anu crumpled over in midair and sank to the ground with a high-pitched keening sound, he realized what was said. He felt his own throat tighten. Traynar wouldn’t be coming back to her because of him. This was the very reason he didn’t want to have his friends risk this mission.

Even though he thought better of it, Merco reached out and laid two fingers against Anu’s back to provide comfort. Much to his relief she didn’t react violently with rejection but instead placed her arms on his fingers and leaned into them as she wept.

“I’m...I’m so sorry Anu.” He all but whispered, trying desperately not to cloud himself with grief for his friend.

He had a mission now and he needed to keep himself sharp as his mind sorted through his own personal battle plan. He couldn’t let the Ansheetans’ sacrifice for him be in vain.

...

Traynar sat in the bottom of his clear prison. Once the white skinned giant had fixed and closed the ramp door, he too went to sleep in the cot next to him. Traynar tried multiple times to find a switch or a weakness in the container. His efforts yielded no rewards and he sat alone with his thoughts.

Anu was probably told he’d been eaten and was grieving him. He desperately wanted to at least let her know he was alive to spare her that heartache. Although...he wasn’t sure how much longer he had. It was obvious the white alien mercenary had something planned for him and wanted him alive while the Gret’nal would probably just as soon eat him. Either way, he didn’t like his options.

As he stared through the clear prison at his two titanic captors he honestly wondered if Merco stood a chance against them. He wondered if he got the knife they had stolen and if he did would it make any difference against these two killers. It was hard for Traynar to imagine that a rotation ago he’d believed Merco was just as evil and dangerous as these mercenaries. If not for Anu and Seraysa he probably would never have given the human alien a chance to prove his docility...and ultimately his friendship.

Exhausted, Traynar tried to get some sleep, though he knew it would be difficult.