Chapter 41: Divide and Conquer

Morning…

Traynar was startled awake by a loud mechanical [CLANG!]. His dark iridescent plumage flew up with alarm. It apparently startled the mercenaries too as they both sat up and looked at the ceiling of their ship.

A second [CLANG!] rang out.

Cresh lowered his goggles back down over his four eyes and they activated, “Hm. Think we’ve got company, Gurt.” He smirked, “Perhaps some more of our little friends come to make our hunt easier?”

The scaly behemoth rose up, back spikes rattling with a morning shake. His thick neck rolled a bit making a horrible cracking noise and then he tasted the air.

“Sounds like someone with a death wish.” He growled.

“Alive Gurt. We need them alive. Remember… eating our profits is bad for business.” Cresh chided, reaching for a couple devices and weapons from the adjacent ship wall. He tossed three purplish black discs the size of coasters to Gurt, “Here. Use those instead of your teeth this time.”

The Gret’nal caught the discs in a scaly hand and blinked at them, “Stun disks, huh?”

“Exactly. Just put it to the lowest setting, wide range, throw it and it should stun anything that’s moving in front of you. Might make it easier since these little buggers fly.” Cresh explained, dialing in his discs’ settings.

Traynar watched as the two huge mercenaries seemed to prep themselves. A third [CLANG!] hit the outside of the ship. The tall white mercenary passed his clear box and tapped the top.

“Don’t worry little fella…we’ll bring you some company.”

They lowered the ramp to the ship and disappeared. Traynar could only helplessly watch as they left, leaving him alone and trapped.

…

Cresh scanned the air, his high-tech eye pieces trying to detect the signatures of the little flying creatures. Something was hitting the outside of their ship; rocks from the sound of it. Their small size would make seeing them challenging even with the eye pieces, especially since they were pretty fast.

“Hmm…well where are you?” he murmured, head turning slowly.

Gurt’s tongue was flicking, scenting the air.

And then both of them were hit with dozens of little objects that popped loudly upon hitting them in the back and head. Cresh flinched, head ducking down from the sharp noise and mild pain along the bare parts of his head, but Gurt didn’t act like he felt anything, merely turning his head toward the loud pops.

“OW! What the-?” Cresh whipped around, catching a brief glimpse of several little figures darting to the topside of their ship.

He grimaced, massaging the back part of his head which procured a bit of his milky pink colored blood, “Why you little… they’re throwing grenades!”

“Still don’t want me to eat them?” Gurt growled, undeterred by the explosives since his skin was too tough.

Cresh touched his eye pieces, setting them to a different parameter which allowed him to have “eyes” in the back of his head.

“No. Not until we catch a few.” He rubbed the blood between his fingers and said slyly. “Just walk that way a bit…when I tell you, turn and throw one of your discs. Let’s see if they’ll try that little tactic again.”

Seeming to pay no mind to the attack the two mercenaries walked away from their ship with Cresh monitoring through his eye pieces. They hadn’t taken four steps when suddenly he spotted several signatures appear as bright white lights and shoot toward them.

“Ready…now!” Cresh barked, turning fast and throwing a disc up high behind him.

Gurt did the same.

The discs flew up, glowed with green lights, and flashed brightly with two tight circles of stunning energy. Everything within the green circles dropped to the ground. Then the discs hit the purplish sand with two thuds.

Cresh smirked and walked toward the stunned figures laying on the ground, “Well! Got a few of em…and we didn’t even have to go far.”

But suddenly more figures descended from high in the air, picked up their fallen comrades, and shot up into the sky again. Cresh and Gurt tried to catch them but they were already well over their heads and flying back into the trees. They could see some fly left and another group fly right, splitting up.

Cresh ground his dental ridges with frustration, ”Ok…guess this won’t be as easy as that.” He sighed a bit but smirked again, “But I’ll bet they can’t fly very long with the extra weight. Might get more than we initially thought.”

His Gret’nal partner rattled his back spikes, tongue flicking. The blue Mohawked mercenary retrieved his discs, placing them in a recharging port on his belt since they were only good for a stun before they needed charged again.

“I’ll take the ones that went left and you go after the ones that went right.”

Gurt nodded and began stalking toward the trees, scenting the air for his prey. Cresh frowned and adjusted his goggles’ settings. He sure hoped the extra work would be worth it.

…

Later at Bent Peak…

Merco waited, pensively turning the knife between his fingers. He never thought he’d have to be in combat again; never thought he’d be sitting quietly psyching himself up to plunge a knife into an enemy. Oddly, much like a glove, the old Merco he’d long since shoved to the back of his psyche was reemerging. That Merco knew what to do when facing an enemy hand-to-hand. Of course, facing a Gret’nal in a fight was not something he hoped to ever add to his list of “life accomplishments”…or perhaps written on his tombstone.

Nearby Anu was perched over his head on the rocks. In light of her mate’s death she opted to keep close to Merco and aid him if she could. She wasn’t a combatant but she was his ambassador and as such she would help him in any way she could. Kriees and Boroxle were nearby as well on the ground. Amazingly, Coroc (whose legs had mended) had a small squadron of his own standing by. It pleased and also surprised Merco when he arrived and offered his skills to aid him rather than attack him.

Merco’s plan was he would engage/jump whichever mercenary was led to Bent Peak. Whilst distracted, Coroc’s team would make an attack on their eyes. If they could blind the mercenary then Merco stood a better chance of winning.

It wasn’t long until he spotted movement just over the trees. The distinct humped shoulders and bulky stature left little doubt it was the Gret’nal. Merco’s heart began to pound with adrenaline. The feeling was all too familiar; exactly the same as preparing to sweep a building for enemies. Potential death and injury breathing its foul breath down his neck. His grip on the knife became intense.

“He’s coming…” Merco whispered, eyes never faltering from the figure in the distance.

“Is it the monster?” Kriees asked.

He nodded.

…

Anu couldn’t believe her mate was gone. Though he was a combatant and she understood the danger of the profession and the mission, it didn’t lessen the painful ache of loss. She had told him she loved him and to be safe, to which he replied the same in turn. But now it was just a memory; his voice, the shape of his tall plumage, the smiles that would break through his stoicism.

As she sat above Merco’s head she noticed the giant alien begin to become more intense. Typically, he acted relaxed and friendly, but now his hands were fiddling with the knife, turning and rolling it before holding it with a powerful grip. His eyes were almost blank but intense. She’d honestly never seen him look like that before. Merco had told them all of his experience in war but few had ever seen him act violently. And even his “violent” acts had been restrained. Anu had the distinct feeling there would be no restraint in the coming battle and a chill passed through her.

…

Soon thereafter…

Gurt had pursued the small group of little flying aliens through the trees but had no success in capturing any. The predatory part of him was of course exhilarated with the whole chase, but the more impatient side of him was starting to grow weary of this endeavor. He wasn’t sure if he cared how much money Cresh said these things might be worth. He’d never know if he ate a few more…they were tasty. As he stalked further through the small trees, they seemed to be retreating to a tall rocky landmass that jutted up above the forest as a natural marker. Perhaps that was where they lived and there’d be more?

It didn’t take him too long to reach the massive landmark and around it the small trees seemed to thin out into rocky upward ascending rocks. He could see several of the little aliens dart toward the rocky landmark and take shelter in the crevices and cracks. A bit more work than he first thought, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He stalked toward the rocks, scenting with his tongue which told him where each one was hiding. Everything living radiated some sort of scent and his species could discern each one as a hazy colored cloud. The brighter the color the closer the victim.

As he drew closer however a second scent caught his attention; one he didn’t expect at all. He lifted his head, tongue flicking rapidly to draw in as much information as he could to make sure he wasn’t mistaken…but he wasn’t. He smelled a human.

“There’s no way…”

And that’s when something sizable landed on his back.

Gurt instinctually bucked his head forward, tucking his throat down to try and throw the attacker clinging to his back off of him. He could feel a blade slashing and stabbing just behind his head, vying for his eyes and jaw. It hurt a bit but more than anything it made him mad. Gurt snarled and reached around and snagged what felt like the attacker’s shirt. He clawed harder and gripped flesh to which a grunt of pain rewarded him. With a hard toss he chucked the attacker over his shoulder and down the rocky slope.

His scenting didn’t lie to him…what he saw was a human male. He was dressed in a strangely colored short sleeved shirt, sported a full but tended beard and mustache, held a knife, and most notably to Gurt he saw the familiar black elbow-length glove.

“Son of a bitch…you survived.” He growled as the human recovered and righted himself in a crouched position, knife at the ready.

“Surprised?” the human retorted, maintaining his knife-fighting stance.

Gurt rumbled with enthusiasm and began circling, “Partly…but that can be fixed.”

The man shrugged, knife still ready, “I’m gonna need your ship.”

Gurt growled, “I’ll bet you do.”

“If you won’t surrender it to me I’ll take it by force.”

The Gret’nal flicked his tongue with bright eyes, “Tell ya what human. You can get a free ride on the ship. I’ll be sure to throw your body in the freezer to keep you fresh after I kill you.”

“Figured you’d say that.” The man conceded, “Just thought I’d give you a chance to surrender.”

…

Merco’s first attack was quick as he dropped down on the lizard creature’s broad back and began hacking at him with the knife. Dark red blood appeared as glistening marks of hope for victory. The Ansheetan and Rogashay onlookers kept themselves out of the way and hidden as the two titans briefly struggled. Coroc and his small squadron were ready but it didn’t take long for the Gret’nal to get a hold on Merco and with tremendous strength tossed him off of his back as if he weighed nothing. The mere act was terrifying and the very rocks seemed to shake from the huge body’s impact. Merco hit the rocky ground but seemed to soften it by rolling to his feet in a fighting stance.

Then the two titans began circling each other slowly, rumbling in a language none of them understood. It was tense and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Watching them in close proximity it was never more clear that the Gret’nal out-sized Merco by a notable margin. It definitely put into perspective the caution Merco had voiced about facing this foe.

In an instant the fight was on. The huge Gret’nal charged in first, shaking the ground with his every movement. He swung a heavy arm in a clawing motion at Merco but the human was quicker and ducked to the side. Merco brought the knife back and stabbed repeatedly but the blade couldn’t find a soft spot in the Gret’nal’s tough hide and only managed to make small cuts along his side. In response, the Gret’nal bashed his huge shoulder and arm into Merco and flung him backward. With fast feet, Merco maintained his balance, keeping the knife in front of him, but the Gret’nal wasn’t giving him a moment to recover as he charged and slammed into the man, throwing him down the slope into the trees.

The deafening discord of snapping trees and quaking, earth tearing impacts shook the forest. Nothing could stand before the battling titans as the landscape was torn to pieces in their wake. It was almost so shockingly destructive that none of the natives could react beyond staring paralyzed at the scene below. To them, Merco was the most powerful being they’d ever met and to see him get thrown around and driven back was terrifying.

Anu looked over at Coroc and his squadron, “What are you waiting for?”

Coroc only gestured subtly as he analyzed the battle, “Not yet…we need a clear opening.”

Worry covered Anu’s face until, without hesitating, Boroxle and Kriees urged their sand dragons down the slope toward the battling titans.

Coroc swore and finally shot up into the sky, his squadron following him.

…

The pain was scraping and rocketing through Merco when the Gret’nal threw him down the slope near Bent Peak and into the trees below. The blow, nor the landing on his back were soft and his body felt it harshly. He knew the lizard humanoid would be strong but feeling his power firsthand was another matter; like getting hit by a truck at low speed. Even with the superior knife and surprise he only managed a few minor cuts as the Gret’nal’s scaly skin acted as armor. He couldn’t get a throat jab as the Gret’nal was leading his attacks with his thick arms and shoulders whilst tucking his head. Obviously he knew his own weakness and expertly kept himself guarded.

Merco’s heart was pounding loudly as he quickly pushed himself up from his awkward fall in the trees. But the Gret’nal was charging down the slope after him, not giving him any time to recover. He’d only sat up a bit when the Gret’nal swung a scaly fist down at him. Merco rolled to the side quickly, dodging the initial hit. With a fast slash he swiped the knife across the Gret’nal’s wrist. An angry hiss and a flash of blood rewarded him. Merco arched his back and brought his boot up fast, kicking the reptilian assailant in the head. The Gret’nal turned his head slightly against the blow, but certainly didn’t seem very injured from the kick.

“Cute…” the Gret’nal growled.

Suddenly his clawed hand swiped down at Merco, cuffing his legs out of the way. With an iron grip he seized Merco by the neck, effortlessly hauled him up, and threw him back further into the forest. Slamming to the ground hard, the man felt the sharp trees scrape unforgivingly across his sides and tear his skin roughly. He grimaced with pain, adrenaline forcing him to roll over and try to get to his feet.

That’s when he felt the sharp stabbing pain pierce his right shoulder in the front and back. Merco’s back arched reflexively and he cried out when he felt the abrupt scaly snout blowing hot air next to his neck and the hot sticky mixture of saliva and his own blood soaking his shoulder and arm. The Gret’nal had his shoulder in a deadly sharp-toothed bite. Through his teeth the reptilian growled and then violently shook his head. Merco tried to resist the attack but the sharp teeth tore his flesh mercilessly as he was shook from side to side like a rag in the jaws of a dog. White pain light exploded in his vision and a ringing clouded his ears. The hot wetness invaded his back and sides.

He was being shredded.

Just when Merco was certain his body could endure no more the Gret’nal’s bite released him. The lizard humanoid gave a shrieking rasp and stepped back. Merco heaved himself away from his opponent through pure adrenaline alone and turned to see the Gret’nal clawing at his left eye and whipping his head around. Dark blood and fluid appeared, running down the side of his face. Merco caught a glimpse of several blurs of maroon and one blue in the air. Coroc and his attack squadron had seized the moment and taken out one of the Gret’nal’s eyes.

Merco gripped the knife his right hand and the pain shot through the whole of his arm. The injury compromised his grip strength. His shirt was torn and blood soaked it across his chest and shoulder. As he painfully sat up a blip of movement entered his periphery and climbed up his side to stand on his gloved arm.

It was Boroxle, brandishing his combat spear.

He gestured strongly whilst shouting, “Merco! We have to enact my plan! Now!“

Merco winced trying to fight through the pain. Looming nearby, the Gret’nal shook his head and leaned so his good eye was directed at Merco. He snarled nastily, pain fueling his vengeful aggression to a new level.

Boroxle anchored a second spear into the leather of Merco’s glove and gripped onto it tightly. His yellowed eyes were intense and serious as he stared back at Merco. The man gave the small warrior a look that said he didn’t want to enact Boroxle’s suicidal plan but suddenly the Gret’nal lunged down at him, mouth agape. There wasn’t a choice now. Gritting his teeth, Merco thrust his mechanical forearm in front of him as a shield and an offering at the same time. Like a crocodile slamming its jaws down on the leg of a hapless wildebeest the Gret’nal clamped down on Merco’s prosthetic, engulfing it and Boroxle in one fierce bite.

Chapter 42: Kill or Be Killed

Merco grunted when the massive pressure of the Gret’nal’s heavy body shoved him onto his back into the dirt. Sharp teeth tore through his glove and screeched against the metal of his prosthetic as the humanoid clamped down aggressively. It happened so fast but Merco instantly realized Boroxle was somewhere in the mercenary’s mouth and he had to prevent the Rogashay leader from being swallowed and give him the chance drive his spear into a vital spot.

The Gret’nal stared at the man with his one good eye, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Despite the bite injury to his right shoulder, Merco swung the knife up to stab his attacker. The Gret’nal, however, saw the movement and caught his knife hand, easily halting the stabbing motion. It didn’t take much for the Gret’nal to slam his arm into the ground and jar the knife from his grip.

A surge of brief panic shot down Merco’s body when he felt the weapon leave his hand. It was the only defense he had against this powerful mercenary and his strength alone would not be enough to win. Especially when he became increasingly aware of the hot wetness soaking through the right side of his shirt.

Uttering a deep and dangerous growl through his teeth the Gret’nal crunched down hard on his prosthetic and with predatory violence shook his head. Merco was thrashed from side to side and though his prosthetic didn’t register pain his upper arm and shoulder felt as if they were going to be wrenched from their socket. The man suddenly threw his long legs up, hooked around the back of the Gret’nal’s leg and using the momentum of the shaking, rolled the lizard humanoid to the side. Merco rolled with him, placing his knees into the scaled chest. He then leaned forward, jamming his mechanical forearm back further into the Gret’nal’s mouth until it was up against the juncture of the jaw and his skull, forcing it to remain open. He strained with every ounce of strength he could muster to hold the position.

Merco held his own for several moments until the Gret’nal’s growling stopped and he suddenly made a strange noise. The yellow reptilian eye widened slightly and before Merco could react he was smacked with powerful open-handed swipe. The hollow thud of the hard, scaly arm impacting his side seemed to echo through the man’s body as he was cast aside. He couldn’t breathe easily for several agonizing seconds as he lay sprawled against some trees. His ears began to ring and a swirling dizziness was accompanying. With pained determination, Merco grit his teeth and rolled onto his stomach, trying to get up.

But as he pushed himself, buckling against his shoulder injury, he spotted the Gret’nal in much the same body posture except he was thrashing his head from side to side. At first it looked like he’d caught something and was throttling it but the reptilian began gagging. His forked, pinkish gray tongue lolled out the front of his agape mouth. Dark thick blood drizzled down through his sharp teeth and onto the ground.

Merco knew Boroxle had done something damaging but he was instantly distracted by the glint of his knife laying just beyond the humanoid.

…

The snapping of trees and the thundering titanic bodies slamming to the ground was almost deafening to the Ansheetans and Rogashay whom were watching from the slope of Bent Peak. In a terrifying manner, the Gret’nal was clearly overpowering Merco; tossing him around like we weighed nothing. It was when the monstrous brute took Merco’s entire shoulder in his vicious mouth and began shaking him that Anu felt genuinely afraid for the human’s life. The gathered witnesses cried out in horror upon seeing their defender being torn up by those vicious teeth.

Just when they thought he might be killed, Coroc and his small squadron landed a decisive blow; blinding the monster on his right side; which made him release Merco. But the man’s deep crimson blood flashed with bright wetness on his shoulder and across his shirt; spreading like a red flood. Anu felt the air leave her chest upon seeing the horrible wound.

He was hurt…bad.

The only time she’d seen Merco hurt that badly was when he first arrived on their planet with a head wound that turned septic. Even Coroc and his forces didn’t hurt him that badly. To most he was nearly invulnerable and none but a select few had seen him lain low.

But, even half blind, the Gret’nal was not helpless; far from it. If anything, his next assault bore even more viciousness. His sharp teeth flashed briefly and the lizard creature lunged downward at Merco, clamping onto his arm and pushing him down where the onlookers couldn’t see him through the trees. All that could be seen was the Gret’nal’s spiky, humped back arching monstrously over the trees like a scaly mountain. Horrible rumbling sounds vibrated the air, echoing across the landscape. Again, the Gret’nal lashed his head from side to side with such ferocity the gathered witnesses thought for sure he would wrench Merco’s arm clean off of his torso.

Then suddenly, amid the violent chaos of the fight, Merco resurged. His huge legs shot up, wrapped around his attacker, and managed to roll the Gret’nal underneath him.

A cheer went up, “Get him, Merco! Get him!”

Anu noticed the giant didn’t have the knife as before. She held her breath, knowing that wasn’t a good thing.

“Come on, Merco…” she whispered with a lowered head plume.

Just as it seemed the battle had turned, the Gret’nal swung his arm and all but slapped Merco off of him. Trees cracked and were flattened to the ground beneath the huge falling body.

“NO!” Anu cried out.

Several tense seconds passed by with both combatants seeming to be in a similar hands and knees posture. It seemed strange because to the onlookers Merco hadn’t landed a decisive blow that would warrant the Gret’nal being in that pained posture.

And then Merco moved with a quick lunge to the left of the Gret’nal. When he stood up they could see the knife clenched firmly in his prosthetic hand. He all but fell on top of the lizard’s back and plunged the knife into his other eye. The Gret’nal reared up fast, thrashing his head around until Merco twisted the blade hard. All movement seemed to cease in the great beast as it froze, mouth agape. Dark, purplish red blood poured in thick hot falls from the bottom jaw. Merco was breathing very hard, gritting his teeth as he forcibly retracted the knife and plunged it again and again. Finally, a cringing convulsion undulated through the reptilian’s thick neck and it collapsed, shaking the forest. Merco’s whole huge frame was trembling until he too collapsed.

No one could believe it. It was so visceral and violent. From the Gret’nal the onlookers expected it but seeing Merco their gentle giant act in such a violent manner disturbed them. But very quickly they overcame that initial shock and an elated whistle rang out from the watchers. He had done it!

However, Anu knew Merco was hurt and she immediately signaled, “Medics! To me!”

With urgency she flew from Bent Peak to the place where she’d seen him collapse.

…

Once Merco had his hand around the knife handle he could hear only his heart booming in his ears accompanied by his hollow breathing. He switched it to his prosthetic, which despite the Gret’nal’s attack, still functioned. The Gret’nal still was hunched over, appearing to choke, when Merco seized the moment. His heart raced as he charged forward and aimed the blade for the Gret’nal’s remaining eye. This time he found his mark as the blade slid into the lizard’s eye socket, exploding the organ in a viscous spray. His prosthetic knew no pain as he used its formidable strength to drive the blade in all the way to the hilt. A crunching of bone signaled the blade’s entrance into the skull. The Gret’nal reared up hard like a bucking bull, trying to throw him off.

His heart was so loud…his killer instinct screamed even louder.

“Kill…kill or be killed…KILL OR BE KILLED!”

He hadn’t heard that command in years…he hoped he’d never have to hear it again. But he obeyed, nevertheless.

“Twist the knife…twist it! More damage…he won’t get up again.” It hissed morbidly.

A crunching sounded as the blade was twisted and jerked. Merco felt the Gret’nal’s entire body go ridged and then convulse. He knew that feeling.

Brain trauma…nerve severance…death.

Even so he stabbed again, wrenching the knife hard to ensure maximum damage. His vision was starting to tunnel when the Gret’nal finally succumbed and slumped beneath him. Merco wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or exhaustion that hit him first but he released the knife and collapsed right beside the mercenary. He gasped heavily and repeatedly as if his lungs had forgotten to work during the whole ordeal.

As the man lay on the ground he stared across at the now dead Gret’nal; chest still and agape mouth slathered in blood.

“Boroxle…” he stated in a raspy voice, grasping for the knife.

He didn’t know if the Rogashay leader was even still alive. Had he been swallowed and needed to be cut out? Was he crushed?

Merco barely had touched the knife to find out when a thick clot of blood slid out along the Gret’nal’s forked serpentine tongue and oozed onto the ground. It wasn’t until the clot rose up, moved forward a bit, and then splatted back into the dirt that Merco realized what it truly was. He soldier-crawled on his belly to get closer, reached out, and lifted up Boroxle, absolutely slathered in blood and saliva. His features were barely recognizable until Merco rubbed him gently against his shirt. An eager gasp escaped the exhausted Rogashay as he lay sprawled over Merco’s hand.

“You crazy son of a bitch…” Merco whispered to the gasping warrior, “…you did it.”

Boroxle wiped his face with one weary hand and only nodded as his little chest heaved rapidly.

Merco was breathing just as hard and was gradually feeling weaker as the hot wetness of his shoulder was more noticeable. The Gret’nal had torn him up pretty badly and he needed to stop whatever bleeding was soaking his shirt.

As he laid there, trying to keep himself from passing out he heard Anu nearby and suddenly she was on the ground in front of his face, “Merco! Merco, where are you hurt?”

He managed a pained smile, “Where doesn’t it hurt would be an easier question.”

Anu’s sharp blue eyes darted across Merco’s massive body as she flew over him, “Merco…I need you to take off your shirt and press it to your shoulder. You’re bleeding too much.”

The man managed a nod and very gently he laid Boroxle down up against a tree to rest whilst he set to removing his shirt. His prosthetic gripped the bottom of his shirt and peeled it off uncomfortably over his head. He cried out painfully when he tried to raise his injured arm. Once the torn cloth peeled off the damage was clear. Open gashes from each of the Gret’nal’s teeth made small crimson flaps peeled up off of his shoulder. It looked like he fell on a running hedge trimmer. Blood poured down his chest. With hissing breaths of pain, he pressed his shirt into his shoulder.

Anu nodded, her head plume alert, “Good, good. Just hold it there until our medics arrive. They’ll get you fixed up.”

Merco’s massive chest rose out and then shuddered painfully with a cough that shook the air. His face scrunched with pain. It wasn’t long before dozens of medics arrived and began their fast assessment of Merco’s injuries.

As he was getting looked over, Merco exhaled deeply with a wince, “What about Boroxle? Did you medics look at him?”

“I have him.” Kriees piped up.

She was kneeling beside her battle gored mate, cleaning his face with a piece of cloth and water from a canteen.

After a few moments the head field medic of the EFP flew before Merco’s face, “We need you to get to Anashee Lake. We’re going to need a lot of water to help close and clean those wounds.”

Anu shook her head, “Anashee Lake? But that’s too far! He won’t make it with that wound bleeding like it is.”

“We have to have water to help him. Those are bite wounds and they’ll need washed before we stop the bleeding or else they’ll go septic when we go to close them.” The medic insisted.

“Not if he bleeds out first.” Anu argued.

“Kriees,” Merco asked wearily, “Isn’t there a water source by your settlement?”

The Emissary nodded, “Yes. We trenched it from a part of Anashee Lake with our sand dragons.”

Merco nodded, “I’m going there then…it’s closer.”

The gathered Ansheetans floated and moved backward when Merco shakily rose to his feet. He staggered briefly to regain his balance as he held his shirt to his bleeding shoulder and the knife in his other hand. Anashee Lake was more than an thirty-minute walk from Bent Peak but the Rogashay settlement was half the distance. Given how shaky he felt, he wasn’t sure if that was even close enough.

He knew the feeling of blood loss. When he lost his left arm he’d nearly succumbed to that dark tunnel that threatened to swallow his vision and rip him from consciousness. This feeling was similar in feeling but not as quick as that first time. Either way he knew he had to get moving before he lost the battle of keeping cognizant. As he limped through the woods, the Ansheetans of the EFP guided him, flying and flitting before his vision to keep him on the path to the water.

The adrenaline that had been roaring through his body since the first attack was slowly beginning to ebb and with it the painful reality of what he’d just endured. His back hurt from the numerous tree scrapes, his chest felt tight and painful from the Gret’nal’s fierce blows, and of course his shoulder felt like it was burning with a fiery pulse. Each step he took became harder and harder, as if cement had begun to harden around his legs.

A cold sweat was beginning to chill his body. Neither were hopeful signs.

Fifteen minutes may as well have been fifteen hours. But miraculously, Merco made it to the Rogashay settlement and to the water source that was there. He collapsed thunderously, feeling the weakness and fatigue shake his body.

Anu was praising him, “Good work Merco! You made it! Just hang on. We’ll help you.”

The dozens of medics were flying about furiously to gather their supplies and begin their triage of Merco’s wounds; the first being his bleeding bite wounds. A pair of medics were mixing some knockout powder into one of the Rogashay cooking pots with water. When it was finished they brought it over to him.

“Merco, you need to take this so we don’t hurt you so much when we close the wounds.” One of the medics explained.

Merco winced but took the pot in his fingers to shoot back the bitter drug. It didn’t take long for the weary feeling to consume him and finally he was out.

…

Meanwhile…

Cresh was pursuing a small group of the little flying aliens and had managed to stun and capture four for his efforts. Not exactly the number he was hoping for but he hoped his partner had caught a few more. Then again…he probably ate more than he caught.

As the white-skinned mercenary walked further through the woods he was about to turn back and call it a day when his goggles began showing an indicator in the left menu. He activated it to see what it was and much to his surprise his goggles were picking up a communication signal. Unless it was part of their job locating a particular individual, he rarely scanned communication signals due to the fact that it could get them discovered. That didn’t bode well for a profession of stealth and anonymity.

It wouldn’t surprise him that the little aliens might be sending an SOS upon their arrival…but, this signal was aimed off world. Who were they trying to signal off world? Normally he would ignore such a thing but the whole point of them coming to this backwater planet was hiding from the law. If this signal was broadcasting an SOS then that could draw in other ships…and that was something he didn’t want.

He changed course slightly and began pinpointing the signal that seemed to be coming from a nearby mountain chain at the edge of the forest.

Chapter 43: Invader

In Anashee…

Seraysa had been sent back to Anashee following the daring plans that had been made to take out the mercenaries. She had wanted to remain at Merco’s side, but the giant alien had insisted upon her remaining as far from the probable fighting as she could. From his tone, Seraysa could tell Merco was worried and the impending fight had him on edge. So, she returned to Anashee where it would be safest.

The day the plan was to be enacted, Seraysa found herself floating aimlessly around the Temple of Emergence since she wanted to be close to her brother Verin instead of in the home she was given as Merco’s ambassador. She didn’t want to be alone right now.

“It’ll be alright, Seraysa.” Verin mentioned after she crossed the room for the fiftieth time.

Seraysa looked at him but she didn’t look wholly convinced, “Merco was just…he just seemed so worried before I Ieft.”

Her brother shrugged, “Probably was more worried about you and our friends.”

“You didn’t see the Rogashay settlement, Verin…it was awful.” Seraysa mentioned, gripping her uniform front. “What if those mercenaries…?”

She stopped, not wanting to think about such a horrible outcome as Merco being killed or mortally wounded.

Verin frowned but then said, “Well, Merco was a soldier, so he knows how to fight. I’ll bet he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” she agreed quietly.

But her worries still weren’t alleviated. Very gradually she wandered outside the Temple of Emergence to get some fresh air. Without hurrying she wandered the streets of Anashee. As she did there came about a commotion in the street and up above. She could see several citizens pointing up toward the mountain that bordered the back half of Anashee. Seraysa flew up between the buildings and into the air so she could see what the fuss was about.

Had Merco returned?

But when she looked up her eyes widened. It was a gigantic figure walking along the top of the mountains that bordered Anashee, but it wasn’t Merco.

…

Cresh followed the S.O.S signal toward a mountain range that ended up being a few miles from where he started. The closer he got the stronger the signal got and he had a feeling the long walk would be worth it. Finally, he came to the base of a smaller sized mountain and looked up. His goggles zoomed in toward the top of the peak and there perched atop it was a small building with a tall tower poking up from it.

“There you are.” He mentioned to himself, already trying to work out a way up to it.

Part of him thought about shooting the signal tower down but he honestly wanted to see what the set up was all about before he destroyed it. He hiked up the mountain and finally came up to the tower at the mountain’s peak. The little antennae was taller than him, probably over ten feet. He twanged it with his hand curiously making it wobble at its top.

“Hm. Primitive setup…” he commented, circling the building.

That’s when he looked down over the other side of the mountain and raised a brow ridge. The mountain was bordering a large valley and in the valley below was a miniature city with organized farmland just beyond.

A pleased smirk crossed the mercenary’s lipless mouth as he tapped the clear tube that contained the four aliens he’s captured earlier, “Well, well. So, this is where you little things come from. Looks like I’ll get more than my quota after all.”

Cresh reached up to his communicator that was in his ear to activate it, “Gurt. You can stop your searching. I found where these little guys come from. Start making your way to my coordinates; there’s money to be made.”

Normally he’d at least get a short guttural reply from the Gret’nal but only silence answered his communique.

Cresh impatiently waited for his partner to respond, “Gurt? You get that?”

Still silence.

“Gurt?” Cresh growled with frustration after a minute of nothing.

“Stupid lizard…” he thought to himself. He wouldn’t dare use the “L-word” within Gurt’s hearing. That was a death sentence.

He gripped the tower beside him and began bending it over. The metal was surprisingly resilient so he placed his boot near the base and pushed with more force. Unable to take that kind of abuse the tower creaked and it folded it over with a violent spark of severed wires.

“There. That shouldn’t call anyone unexpected now.” He mentioned.

Cresh surveyed the valley below for a bit through his goggles which switched to binocular vision. There were huge black trees roped with dozens of walkways above smaller structures below. He could see hundreds if not thousands of the little flying aliens flitting about in the air above the city and traversing those walkways. A wall encircled the entirety of the miniature city beyond the natural one created by the mountain. He couldn’t see nor detect any heavy armaments along that wall which meant he and Gurt would have no trouble invading it. But he wasn’t in a hurry yet. He’d wait for his partner to respond or show up so he wouldn’t complain about him hogging all the action. Besides, the walk here and up to this mountain had been tiring. He could take a brief sit down and wait.

With a relaxed sigh he crouched down and finally sat on the top of the mountain just above the city.

…

A fearful lump rushed into Seraysa’s throat when she saw the unfamiliar, gigantic silhouette looming forebodingly at the top of Sweelishi Mountain. He was standing right next to the communication tower they had built to help Merco call his people. With terrifying ease, he reached out and gripped the metal tower and gradually flattened it to the ground, effectively destroying it. Seraysa and the others of Anashee seemed to all hold their breath, awaiting the giant invader’s next move. He spoke a few phrases, his voice rolling out across the air. Then, unexpectedly, he took on a pose of relaxation as he sat on the mountaintop.

He wasn’t attacking…yet. But he loomed over Anashee with impending menace.

With quick movement, Seraysa flew back to the Temple of Emergence and threw open the door.

“Verin! Dr. Jasta! One of those mercenaries is here!” she shouted loudly so they would hear her.

Verin nearly dropped the instrument in his hand, “Here? You mean here in Anashee?”

She pointed upward, “He’s sitting up on Sweelishi Mountain!”

Dr. Jasta appeared from his office after hearing her proclamation, “Where’s Merco?”

“I don’t know…” Seraysa had a hopeless tone. “Not close enough.”

“Verin, check all the incubation pods. Make sure they are of proper temperature and dryness. I’m going to initiate the lock down protocols.” Dr. Jasta commanded, moving across the room briskly.

“Lock down protocols?” Seraysa asked.

Verin was already going into action but explained whilst he checked the pods, “The Temple of Emergence can shut itself in protectively to ensure the pods are kept safe. Metal doors, thicker walls, plated blinds that cover the glass dome, and enough supplies to keep anyone inside secure for sun cycles. It’s one of the few places in Anashee with these protocols. That and the High Elder’s place of meeting and the underground shelters beneath the tree towers.”

Seraysa blinked, unaware of this information.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be safe in here.” Dr. Jasta insisted as he stood at a panel that housed the building controls.

“I have to find Merco!” Seraysa insisted strongly.

“There’s no time for that.” Dr. Jasta shook his head, still working, “If that mercenary is right outside Anashee we have to prepare for the worst…Seraysa!”

The doctor shouted when Seraysa flew off the floor and out the door in a hurry.

Verin rushed after her shouting, “Seraysa! What are you doing?”

From the air she shouted back, “I have to find Merco and bring him back here! He’s the only one who can defend us!”

He tried to argue the brashness of her action but his sibling was already flying up and away out of Anashee.

He nearly went after her but Dr. Jasta insisted, “Verin! Please! I need you to help me or we risk these chrysalises!”

Responsibility was tugging him in two directions at once. However, he knew he wasn’t as strong a flier as his sister and wouldn’t be able to catch her so he opted to stay and help Dr. Jasta.

“Seraysa…be safe.” He stated to no one but himself as he closed the door.

…

Out at the Rogashay settlement…

All of the medics caring for Merco’s wounds were slathered in red. They had never undergone such a task as cleaning and mending the wounds of a being Merco’s size. Some of the ragged bite wound holes were big enough they could fit their whole torsos down into them and they bled like a slow waterfall. Each hole had to be cleaned and hit with a cauterizing laser to stop the blood flow. Lights from dozens of laser burners flashed sporadically across Merco’s shoulder and back as the Ansheetan medic teams worked. Then the medical teams covered each wound with large bits of absorbent material and leeching weed to cover the wounds. Stitching them was not an option since it would take too long and bite wounds could not be sealed without risk of infection.

They were almost finished with the last few holes when Merco began to show signs of waking. The giant alien groaned loudly and began to twitch, threatening to rise. Anu flew over to Merco’s face and could see his eyelids parting with groggy awareness.

“Merco! Merco. Stay still. Don’t move.” She insisted firmly, touching his nose to gain his attention.

He didn’t seem quite awake though and blinked several times slowly. Anu jumped with a start when one of his massive hands impacted the ground just beside her and shakily began pushing himself up. His head bobbed woozily.

Seeing the medics staggering for purchase on his shoulder and back, Anu flew up to his face again shouting, “NO! NO! Don’t sit up just yet! Lay down!”

His grey-green eyes seemed to tremble back and forth a moment as coherency was still trying to fight its way past the drug’s effects.

“Lay down!” she insisted, gesturing broadly so he could perhaps see her.

Merco’s hand gouged the dirt as he heavily lowered himself back down. He winced with pain.

“That’s right big guy. Just stay down. They’re almost done. Just a little longer.” She encouraged him.

…

Merco was breaking through the fog of the sedative and everything was spinning weirdly. He was laying on his side and could feel the tiny presences on his shoulder and touching his shoulder blade. He tried to get up but Anu was in his face insisting he hold still until the medics finished. He laid back down with compliance and sighed wearily. Fatigue and pain were all over his body now. He hadn’t really felt the pain so acutely until the adrenaline had worn off and now it was asserting itself in harsh fashion.

A few more minutes of work and the medics poured the last of their pain-relieving poultice into Merco’s wounds and fled to give him room to get up.

Anu patted his forehead and told him, “Ok, Merco. They’re done. You can get up now. But don’t rush yourself.”

Merco groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His body ached horribly from the abuse he’d taken in the fight being punched and thrown around like a sack of potatoes by the Gret’nal. The sharp pain in his chest bespoke of a fractured rib or two or at least a bruised one. Merco was aching all over but he was also still tired. He wanted to lean back against something but his back burned terribly from the scrapes he endured from being thrown around in the trees. Gradually, he opted to lay back down.

He closed his eyes in pain, “Thank you all. Probably saved my life again.”

Anu flew into his view, “You probably saved ours too.”

“There’s still one more.” Merco reminded her. “Any word on where he is?”

She shook her head, “We sent out some scouts to try and find out but they aren’t back yet.”

Merco squirmed uncomfortably when the pulsing throb of his injuries stung him more, “Hope that guy isn’t as tough as that Gret’nal.”

Though his tone on the surface seemed to make light of the situation, Merco knew things had probably gotten more complicated. It wouldn’t be long before the second mercenary figured out that his reptilian partner was dead. He guessed he would either seek vengeance for that or he’d hop back into his ship and flee the planet. Neither was an ideal option for him. But if the mercenary left rather than seek retaliation then less lives would be lost. However, he’d be saying goodbye to his first and probably only chance of getting home.

“Are you going to be all right?” Anu asked him with a concerned look when he winced.

The man managed a smile, “Eventually…I think. That Gret’nal beat me up pretty good.”

His eyes roved around the area, “Is Boroxle all right?”

“Emissary Kriees was taking care of him but we haven’t heard any word since you went under. Just rest.” Anu assured him.

Merco closed his eyes again but he didn’t get to rest too long before a familiar voice was calling him. He cracked an eye open to see Pixie flying in fast and losing a bit of her flight control when she collided into his neck and shoulder. He sat up quickly and took her gently in his hand.

“Pixie? What are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in Anashee?” he asked with sternness.

Her bright blue eyes met his and then shimmered when she saw the state of him. His shirt was gone and his entire right shoulder was covered in wounds that followed the pattern of a bite. He had scrapes and dark bruising all over him. She hadn’t seen him look that bad since she Emerged.

“Are you ok?” her voice quavered slightly.

He managed a nod, “I’ll make it. But why are you here? It’s too dangerous.”

She righted herself back into a hover and cried out, “Merco! He’s at Anashee! He’s there!”

“Who’s there, Seraysa?” Anu asked, floating closer.

“The mercenary! He’s on Sweelishi Mountain!” she insisted breathlessly, “He destroyed the communication tower and when I left he was sitting up there watching Anashee.”

Merco’s head perked up, staring in the direction of Anashee even though they were too far to see anything. A look of urgent concern flashed across his features as he carefully placed Pixie on the ground away from him. With lurching, pained movements Merco rose to his feet. He staggered a bit, sending any nearby Ansheetans scattering to keep out of his way.

“Merco! You shouldn’t be moving so soon!” Anu shouted at him.

Pixie too had noticed Merco’s injured state and she shook her head, “No, wait! You’re hurt!”

Merco attempted to straighten his back but a crackling pain in his sides made the action horrible. He winced, slumping over a bit. However, he knew he had to get to Anashee as fast as he could. If the second mercenary had found Anashee there was no telling what horrific damages he would inflict on it and its citizens if he didn’t stop him.

“You stay here. I don’t want you anywhere near Anashee if that mercenary is there.” He stated with insistence as he began walking in the direction of the city far away.

Both Anu and Pixie flew up into his path but he didn’t allow them to stop him.

Pixie pressed her hands against his chest as if she could halt his movement, “You’re too hurt, Merco!”

“I have to stop him…I’m the only one who can.” Merco insisted, not slowing his march.

Anu knew there was no stopping him so she made a call to arms for the EFP members who were still nearby, “EFP! To Anashee! Hurry!”

From the trees dozens of EFP fliers took to the air and like a horde of dragonflies, flying as fast as they could to Anashee. Merco tried to protest their departure but they were already far ahead.

Pixie conceded that Merco would not be dissuaded so she perched on his shoulder.

“Pixie, I don’t want you anywhere near Anashee. It’s going to be dangerous.” He rumbled.

“I don’t want you to go when you’re hurt.” She shot back.

He gave her a look of protest but mentally decided he could take her most of the way and then drop her off when they got closer. He proceeded on.

“Did you beat that Gret’nal?” she asked after a time.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

She gave short sigh of relief hearing that. It was no wonder he was so injured but she was so glad he was the victor.

“And you’re going to beat this guy.” She stated.

He sighed but managed a smile at her confidence in him, “I’ll certainly try.”

Inside his own head though he wasn’t so sure about that white lie. He was hurt and it took everything he had to beat the Gret’nal. The other mercenary wasn’t strong like that but he had weapons and Merco was certain he would use them. All it would take was one accurate laser projectile through the chest and he’d be done. Not to mention he had other lives in play now if the mercenary was at Anashee. He needed to hurry but he also didn’t want to give away his position too soon. He still had stealth with this one and he couldn’t pass that opportunity.

…

At Anashee, not long after Pixie left…

Anashee had taken on an air of dread since the giant alien intruder had darkened the peak of Sweelishi Mountain. Commander Madala, whom had retreated back to Anashee before Merco’s attack on the Gret’nal, was already sending out her remaining EFP squads to get Anashee’s citizens into lock down shelters. Mostly the shelters were in place for past war times but they were also used for electro-storm shelters. Never had they been used in such a situation. Anashee was abuzz with movement as the citizens made their way out of their homes and to the shelters located beneath the black bark trees.

From her lofty vantage at the Elder’s dwelling, the Commander kept a wary eye on the mercenary looming above. He hadn’t moved much and simply sat, watching. She couldn’t comprehend what he was doing rather than attacking. It was almost like Merco’s first appearance all over again. The air and the streets were bustling with Ansheetans all making their way to the closest shelters.

But then the mercenary stood up again and began moving down the mountain toward Anashee.

The Commander whistled sharply to her nearby EFP members, “He’s coming! Prepare for your attack!”

The white-skinned mercenary made his way down until he was much closer and almost to the cliffside where the markets were located. He stopped.

Suddenly, not more than a minute later a flash followed by a deafening blast rocked the city.

…

Cresh grew very tired of waiting atop the mountain. Gurt still hadn’t replied to his calls which wasn’t the most atypical behavior for his surly partner, but it still irritated him. Below in the little alien city Cresh could see the citizens beginning to bustle through the streets and in the air above. Apparently his presence had caused a bit of a stir.

Deciding he’d better get to work rather than wait much longer, he hailed his partner one last time, “All right, Gurt. Fine. I’m going to raid this little city by myself and unless you get your scaly ass over here I’m taking most of the profit on this little venture.”

Curtly disconnecting communications, Cresh moved down the mountain to gain a better vantage for his next move. When he was in the ideal spot overlooking the alien city, he set his sights on one of the black-barked trees that towered amid the city. It seemed from this vantage point the little aliens were coalescing near them. His nimble thin fingers expertly withdrew his energy pistol from his holster. His goggles synced with the sights as he took aim and fired. The bright white energy projectile flashed briefly and slammed mercilessly through one of the trees. Shrapnel exploded from the large tree followed by a uniform, screaming keen that rang out over the city.

Just as Cresh predicted, the shot created panic and hundreds of little aliens shot up into the air, fleeing the destruction. With a hefty toss he chucked three stun disks off the side of the mountain over the city below. The timer set them off and several large sections of city were bathed in green light. It flashed and Cresh watched as the fliers and the pedestrians caught in the light dropped where they were.

He nodded with a pleased smirk, holstered his pistol, and began trekking down the mountain, “Like picking money up off the ground.”

As he drew closer to the city below his goggles detected several of the flying aliens shooting toward him in a formation from both sides.

Guards defending their little city no doubt.

Cresh smirked as his hands went to his belt and with expert precision he pulled out more stun disks, and flung them into an arc in the air. They flashed and the opposition sent to fight him was caught in the stun beam. They fell just like falling leaves.

Cresh laughed darkly to himself, “That’s right…fall before your god.”

Chapter 44: Abduction

Commander Madala was spun through the air when the shock wave slammed into her. She managed to right herself when the deafening sound subsided and continued to echo off the walls and the mountains of Anashee. Screams of panic and shock filled the city. Commander Madala’s head plume lifted high with alert when she stared over at the black barked tree known as the Third Tower. A huge hole was blown clear through it and debris lay everywhere behind it.

She barely had time to process the horrific scene when a loud whirring sound made her look upward. Three large disks were falling toward the city at various points. The Commander recoiled when the disks made a sharp chirping noise and each one shot a beam of green light beneath them onto the city below. At first she wasn’t sure what was happening until the light stopped and she saw hundreds of Ansheetans fall where they stood and drop out of flight to the ground.

She shook her head in horrified disbelief. What just happened? Was everyone caught in those beams dead?

Then the tall, thin mercenary, looming on the mountain above, began to descend toward Anashee.

He was coming.

The city began to boil with panic as those who were not caught in the green beams of light took to the air to get over the wall and out of Anashee. The air became filled with fliers like a bee’s nest that had been destroyed. Those whose flight was not very strong began running for shelter; buildings, the tree towers, or even toward the gates to escape the city.

With an intensity she hadn’t felt in a long time, Commander Madala opened her communication channel to her EFP squadrons, “All EFP! Converge on the invader using formation 11! Do whatever you must to keep him away from Anashee! Fly out!”

From various points she could see the maroon and blue uniforms take to the air; combatants and scouts alike. The mercenary continued his descent and then he stopped. Forming their combat pattern, the EFP flew at him from across the city. But with calm intensity the mercenary’s thin hands went to his waist and suddenly he tossed more disks out over the oncoming fliers.

“BREAK! BREAK FORMATION!” Commander Madala shouted urgently over the channel.

But it was too late. The disks chirped and the green light enveloped most of the formation. There was another flash and anyone caught in the beam crumpled and fell from the sky. Fallen fliers struck the sides and roofs of buildings. The Commander could only stare in horror as most of her force was dropped. Her mind whirled furiously, trying to formulate a strategy. Shock had rendered her mind to muddled soup. But the giant mercenary continued his path toward Anashee, growing larger and more menacing by the second. Soon he came down just above the Cliff Markets and stopped.

…

Cresh kept walking until he came to a drop-off bordering the city. He peered over the edge and discovered that it formed a carved cliff face lined with what looked like shops and walkways. Cresh stopped and gauged the height before he jumped down and landed in an open area paved with colorful stones. He stood up and looked around, noting the buildings were only about as tall as his shoulder at their tallest. Most were only up to his waist. The area was clear and as he glanced around he noticed a couple unconscious aliens laying in the street ahead. He smirked and strode forward to collect his prizes. Both were that mint green color like the first one he’d caught back at the ship. With quick efficiency he retrieved the container from his hip and placed the two inside with the four he’d caught earlier. He held up the clear container to examine his catches like a bug collector. The four he’d caught earlier were awake and seemed horrified by the two new-comers unconscious states.

“Aww. Don’t worry. They’ll come out of it…hopefully.” He assured them with a smirk before returning the container to the clasp on his belt.

Cresh wandered through the little city, running his hand absently over the building roofs as he passed. There were several more aliens on the street ahead of him which he picked through selectively. A couple were dead, their light blue blood staining the stones of the street. He wondered if he could get anything for the dead ones. However, he had limited container space and he figured live specimens would be much more valuable. He could always come back.

As he collected the aliens something suddenly hit the right most lens of his quadruple goggles. Cresh flinched slightly and lifted his head. Automatically, his goggles switched to broad-range motion detection which revealed a single alien flying away from him.

“Oh? So, we have a hero who wants to play do we?” he remarked as he glanced at the bold attacker.

…

The giant white-skinned humanoid landed with a quake in the market square. He stood just as tall and imposingly as Merco, but he seemed to be more closely constructed to an Ansheetan; thinly built, four fingered hands, tall blue hair that resembled a crest. He was wearing a slightly baggy set of dark pants with a tight-fitting dark green shirt and utility belt that crossed his chest in an ‘X’. Several high-tech looking armaments rounded his entire waist belt and studded the ones crossing his chest. He looked armed and ready for anything.

Commander Madala watched with dread as the mercenary began walking almost casually through the streets of Anashee near the market square. He stopped briefly, crouched down, and picked up something. It wasn’t until he stood back up and reached for something shiny on his belt that the female commander realized what he was doing. He was collecting the Ansheetan citizens that lay unresponsive in the city streets.

She didn’t know why he was doing it but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t let him take any of Anashee’s citizens without a fight.

Not to mention there were so many who still were trying to get to the shelters beneath the black bark trees. They needed more time. She couldn’t let this mercenary get close to any of them where the population was densest. There were so many affected there by those strange green beams that she couldn’t let him get to those helpless citizens.

The commander reached around for her energy staff and shifted it to a large double ended blade. With a fast surge of flight, she shot toward the mercenary from his back. Her heart pounded loudly in her head as she psyched herself up for the attack. The closer she flew in the bigger he got until she was right behind him. With a fast arc she flew around him, swung her energy blade, and struck him in one of his eyes. Except, his eyes were shielded with what looked like high-tech lenses. Her strike merely bounced off the metal and glass and gained his attention. Strategically she retreated.

The white-skinned titan looked up and turned his head toward her, speaking in a voice that sounded amused at her attempt to blind him. Though his thin smile was more sinister than his tone. However, he didn’t make a move toward her and simply returned to his task at hand.

She fluffed her plumage with indignation at his apathy. Her attack barely distracted him. She watched from a distance as he pulled a clear tube from his belt and with careful counting placed several of the unconscious Ansheetans he’d collected inside it. He rose up and placed the container back onto his belt before continuing on toward the heavily damaged Third Tower tree.

Foregoing her own safety, Commander Madala flew into his path just out of his reach, swiping her energy staff before her aggressively.

“NO! Stay away!” she shouted at the top of her voice, even though she knew it was futile.

The towering mercenary surprisingly stopped and stared at her with his four lens goggles turning and focusing. A snide smile crossed his face as he tipped his head.

He spoke though she didn’t understand him, “A hero looking to stop me? Now this is interesting.” With nonchalance he ran a hand through his blue Mohawk, “I don’t have time to play with you, little hero. I’ve got money to make, so unless you want to fly into this container and help me do that I suggest you run and hide like the rest.”

Commander Madala didn’t understand a word he spoke though it sounded like the language Merco used before he learned Ansheetan. Unconcerned with her threat, the huge being continued his forward motion toward the Third Tower. Every part of the commander’s body screamed for her to just fly away, but her proud mind wouldn’t allow such cowardice. She tightened her grip on her energy staff as the mercenary bore down on her, eclipsing her in his shadow. Commander Madala flared her head plume wide and the folded it back as she shot up with all the speed she could muster straight at the giant alien’s face. She was much faster than his reaction. With a mighty swing of her bladed staff she scored a strike right at the mercenary’s upper lip. A bright pink splash erupted from the slice she carved and she darted away with haste.

The mercenary flinched, making a loud noise of discomfort as his hand flew up to his face. He touched his wounded mouth and brought his fingers before his goggles to see the blood. His triangular tongue probed up and felt the slice she had left which was bleeding down into the corner of his mouth. His fingers rubbed together pensively before a sneer curled his mouth.

Despite this, Commander Madala placed herself in front of him again defensively; pink blood dripping down the energy blade.

“You will go no further, monster!” she shouted valiantly.

He didn’t understand her but he replied, ”Ok. Guess we’re going to play then, little hero.”

His hand went for the belt across his chest. With delicacy he pulled out a thin tube with metal ends and a blue substance inside. It wasn’t very big at all, probably Madala’s height. He gave her a look that oozed with sinister glee as he pinched the two metal ends, producing a crunching sound. Then he rocked the tube back and forth in his hand, making a loud ticking noise with his mouth; imitating the ticking of a clock. Suddenly, his fingers flicked the tube to his left like one would discard a toothpick. Commander Madala watched it spin through the air down several city blocks away from both of them until she was distracted by the mercenary whom held up his hand and began to drop each finger in a counting manner.

“4…3…2…1…” he mouthed silently.

His last finger dropped. A bright white light flashed.

[BOOM!]

Commander Madala felt herself thrown through the air and finally collide against the side of a building when a massive shock wave and sound slammed into her. A ringing filled her ears and she swooned, unable to orient herself as she spun down to the ground in slow circles. She could feel the solidness of the street beneath her when she finally stopped falling. The commander winced and rolled onto her back, stunned. All she could see was the brightness of the sky above her but nothing definitive. Her crested head lolled to the side when suddenly the sky went dark.

Even through the ringing in her head she could hear the mercenary speaking in a muffled low timbre as his tremendous silhouette filled her vision.

…

Cresh dearly enjoyed getting to use his trinary thermal explosives. So small, so easy to smuggle, and yet so delightfully devastating. The tiny glass tubes, which contained three exothermic compounds, would only go off when the chemicals were mixed by way of crushing the metal ends and shaking it. While the explosions were not the biggest, they were good enough to blow down most doors, kill closely spaced groups, or in this case crater a tiny city block.

While the explosion gave a thump to his chest and ruffled his hair, it sent his tiny opponent flying into the side of a nearby building and spiral down to the ground like leaf. He briefly glanced over to see the destruction his little bomb had caused. A smoking, dusty cloud of debris rose from the crater of the demolished city block. Cresh refocused his attention on the tiny challenger who lay stunned on the ground before him. He approached slowly and stood over her. With unhurried movement he crouched down.

“Oh? Are we done playing now?” he asked mockingly.

The little lavender alien’s blue eyes darted and she haphazardly raised the staff with the green energy blade at him. Unfazed by her weapon, Cresh reached down and effortlessly plucked it from her grasp and held it up for scrutiny. He curiously touched the glowing energy blade and it surprisingly felt like a solid metal blade with a slight electric tickle.

“Hm. Energy mass conversion into a blade…I’m surprised.”

Near his boot the little alien was trying to get up. She hovered off the ground in an almost drunken way and tried to gain some distance but Cresh plucked her out of the air. The lavender-skinned alien protested and kicked, her little voice tittering like an angry bird.

Cresh stood up with her, “Well, well… still have a bit of fight in you yet.”

The sting from his cut upper lip prompted him to give her a reproving squeeze. She squeaked loudly at the mistreatment. Cresh then reached for his container, gave her a smug smirk, and promptly added her into his “collection”. Briefly he observed his catches. His container was growing rather crowded. He clasped it to his belt and moved up the street, turning sideways to squeeze through the narrower paths to collect more of the little creatures.

Absently, he reactivated his communications channel, “You’re missing out, Gurt. Making all the money over here.”

Where the Hell was that bastard?

As Cresh gathered four more aliens in his new container, he noticed a building that was a bit different than the others. Water cascaded down the outer walls decoratively and it had a metal dome that seemed to be made out of pleated metal covering its top. The metal dome seemed out of place on the ornate structure but nevertheless it attracted Cresh’s attention.

He approached the building which came up to his waist at its highest point. An open plaza bordered it. Inquisitively, the white-skinned mercenary ran his hand over the metal dome until he spotted a seam at the bottom. It looked like a metal cover that was designed to protect something beneath it.

But what were they protecting?

There wasn’t a locked door, safe, or building Cresh couldn’t get into if he wanted something and he was just curious enough to want to find out what was so important about this building. Experimentally, he pressed his fingers against the bottom of the pleated metal and tried to muscle it open. It dented a bit against his strength but he couldn’t get a good grip.

Unhurried, he unsheathed a knife from his boot holster. The thin blade ejected from the handle with a loud [Snick!] and then he scraped the tip along the seam. With a forceful jab he slid the knife under the metal shield at ground level and wrenched it upward like a stubborn garage door. The extra leverage made the metal creak loudly and give way. Then, like peeling back the top of a sardine can, Cresh forced the shield to roll open.

As he did this he noticed the four conscious aliens plus the little “hero” were acting rather desperately to his actions; banging on the side of the tube and looking horrified.

“Hmm. Must be something very important in here for you all to react so brashly.” he mused to himself.

Beneath the shield was a green energy dome, sectioned off with metal framework that resembled stained glass. His goggles automatically scanned into the room beneath. Inside he could see many computer stations and from what he could tell they were all synced with several glass and metal pods about the size of avocados.

Intrigued, he flipped the knife in his hand and slammed the hard butt of it down on the dome. It flickered and the metal dented inward. Again, he struck it and this time it broke the connections in the energy barrier when the framework snapped. The green lights flickered with a spark and disappeared. Cresh pulled at the metal framework and forcibly ripped it from its struts in the ground. He chuckled darkly to himself, realizing how easy it was for him to dismantle the building.

With curious intent he reached down into the building for one of the pods. His fingers grasped the device.

[TAP!]

Something small and hard struck the side of his hand giving him a static shock. He flinched slightly, more from surprise than pain. Then he heard a little voice inside the building tittering at him like an angry bird. His goggles focused inside the building and he saw two green-skinned aliens, one in a dark green jumpsuit and one in a lab coat. They were both brandishing metal staffs similar to the one he’d taken from the “hero”. He narrowed his eyes with annoyance and with a curt flick of his fingers he swatted the pair into the wall and out of his way. They hit hard, dropped their weapons, and slumped to the floor.

Cresh ripped the pod from its base and cords and pulled it out of the building. He held up the container and turned it around. Inside he could see a smaller dark teal pod with faint silvery veining.

“Huh. All that excitement for this?” Cresh questioned, absently tapping the container at his hip whilst observing the one in his hand.

The conscious aliens in his container still looked very horrified and were angrily banging on the walls. Cresh touched the side of his goggles, toggling through the menu settings to find his scanner. When it was ready he slowly turned his head in front of the pod to gather info for his scanner. A white grid formed over the metal container first; sizing it, analyzing its make. Then it went inside and scanned the teal colored pod. Much to the mercenary’s surprise it was registering a life-form inside the pod; one shaped just like the aliens he was catching.

“Oh…I see. So, you come from eggs.”

This was something new…and potentially very handy. If it turned out these aliens were worth quite a bit, he could actually hatch them in his own incubator by reverse engineering the pod. Then he’d have a steady supply of them even if he couldn’t make it back to this planet.

He was about to gather up the rest in the building when he noticed something beyond the city wall and out past the fields. There was a silhouette near the rocks that encapsulated this valley. Cresh’s goggles switched to binocular vision and shot out across the expanse. His four eyes widened behind his goggles when he beheld what it was.

“Well son of a bitch…you survived.” He mentioned aloud.

Chapter 45 Fight to the Finish

Despite the pain, Merco tried to maintain an urgent pace toward Anashee. Pixie could tell he was struggling though. She kept telling him to stop or asked him if he was ok but he stubbornly kept going. If what she said was true and the other mercenary had found Anashee, he couldn’t waste any time. Though he didn’t know the mercenary’s intentions he could only guess they were not friendly or benevolent to the little Ansheetans. He only hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

As he could visually see the arc of mountains that surrounded Anashee he heard the distinct cracking sound of an energy projectile being fired. His heart skipped a beat as his head perked.

“What was that?” Pixie asked from his shoulder.

“We need to hurry.” Merco said, hopping a bit to gain some momentum to jog.

But when he tried to go faster his injured body protested with harsh painful lightning across his nerves. He grunted and stumbled, falling to his knees.

Pixie yelped, flew up off of his shoulder, and over his head. Merco’s face was tightly scrunched with a pained expression as he tried to subdue the pain stabbing through him.

“Merco? Are you all right?” Pixie cried out with concern.

He breathed heavily but didn’t answer her. The answer was “no” but he was determined to not convince himself to give up. Again, he forced himself to stand. His torso was wracked with burning pain. Pixie darted around him in an anxious manner. She kept protesting his forcible resolve to get to Anashee but he tuned it out. The last time he had to force himself through this much pain was during the war with half of his arm blown off. That was worse than this, but he was tougher, younger man back then.

Merco kept going with Pixie trailing close by. It wasn’t until he exited the forest and neared the “gate” to the Anashee valley that the silence was shattered by a loud [BOOM!] Both Merco and Pixie jerked with shock. The hairs on the back of Merco’s neck prickled with familiarity.

That wasn’t an energy projectile…that sounded like a bomb.

“No…no nonono.” Merco shook his head anxiously as he hobbled on.

When they were very near the outer rock gate they saw a huge crowd of Ansheetans gathered there. A group of EFP members appeared from over the rocky border; Coroc and Anu among them.

Anu flew down to him quickly, “Merco! He’s within the city walls! He’s by the Temple!”

Merco’s face scrunched with concern in his eyes. Though the group of Ansheetans outside the valley was indeed numerous it wasn’t the entirety of the population.

“Is this all there is?” he asked.

Coroc gestured to them, “These are the ones who fled the city after the Third Tower was attacked. There are many more in the First and Second. But these evacuees have said the mercenary deployed those stun devices we faced earlier. Many were paralyzed and are still in Anashee.”

The man nodded, listening carefully, “He’s probably wanting to collect a few of you if he’s using stun disks.”

“What does he want with us?” Pixie asked.

“Probably thinks you’re worth something to others outside this planet. Money is the major motivator for guys in his line of work. Otherwise, he’d just be killing you for fun.”

Coroc nodded, “I’ve sent several scouts along the perimeter. They are awaiting my command. What do you want us to do?”

Merco’s eyes wandered slowly as he thought, “If I go through that gate he’s going to see me…and he’ll probably shoot me on sight. I don’t know what he is, but I can almost bet he’s going to use a weapon before he fights me hand to hand.” He sighed, “And I don’t think he’ll let me get close enough to use this knife.”

“You need a distraction.” Coroc concluded.

“Maybe…” Merco was still trying to formulate a plan in his head.

Coroc raised his plumage a bit, “My scouts have informed me this mercenary wears some sort of device over his eyes, so going for his eyes like we did with that other won’t work if he’s wearing them.”

Merco moved his mouth a bit, “But…if his vision were obstructed…”

And then he had an idea; one that was crazy and very dangerous. But it might just work. He discussed his plan with Anu, Coroc, and other members of the EFP who were gathered. Very soon it was decided, items were gathered, and he stood up.

“I want to help you.” Pixie announced, flying into his view.

With abrupt gentleness Merco scooped Pixie out of the air and held her close for a moment.

He placed her on the ground outside the rocked opening, “You can help me Pixie if you stay here where it’s safe. I don’t want you to follow me for any reason. No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear, you stay away.”

The worry written on her tiny face was evident as her plumage dropped. Satisfied she would listen, Merco nodded to Anu, Coroc, and four other EFP members. They flew up and floated just behind his back out of sight. He squeezed through the entrance to the valley and kept close to the rock wall, slightly ducking to keep low. He needed to maintain stealth for as long as he could but he also needed to get close enough to execute his plan without getting shot.

He’d made it down the path a bit when suddenly a light flashed and a piece of ground near him erupted upward with a spatter of dirt. Merco jumped slightly which made the EFP behind his back do the same. He stared off toward Anashee and could plainly see the mercenary standing amid the little city, arm up with an energy projectile pistol aimed.

“I can put the next one straight through your head, human!” the familiar, tenor voice of the mercenary shouted out across the distance. “Let me see your hands!”

Compliantly, Merco raised his hands over his head, hands open in a surrendering gesture.

The mercenary moved through Anashee until he was near the wall. With a brief hop he climbed on top of the stone wall and stood tall with his pistol trained on Merco.

He gestured with the weapon, “Now nice and slow come this way!”

“What does he want?” Coroc asked from behind Merco’s back, not understanding their exchange.

Merco whispered subtly in Ansheetan, “He wants me to come closer. Just follow me and stay out of sight until I give the signal.”

Gradually, Merco walked across the river land until he was about fifty yards from the city wall. The mercenary watched him, never lowering his pistol.

“Well, well, human. I’m honestly surprised to see you survived. Gurt owes me fifty credits. I gambled you’d live at least two weeks.” he commented. “I told him humans can be resilient.”

But then as the man drew closer he noticed the distinct bite wound encompassing the man’s bare shoulder amid the other injuries, “That’s far enough, human.” he gestured with the weapon, “I see you’ve already met my partner.”

“I saw the ship…thought it was a rescue.” Merco called out, hands still aloft. “Your scaly partner tried to kill me.”

He shrugged, “Not surprising.” His mouth twitched, “What is surprising is that you’re here and he’s not…you kill him?”

“Didn’t leave me much choice.” Merco replied evenly.

For a moment Cresh was quiet, his finger tapped the tube of Ansheetans at his belt absently, “Hm. So that’s why he’s been MIA.” He clenched up on his pistol a bit, “Do you know how hard it is to find a good Gret’nal these days?”

“Can’t say I do.” Merco replied evenly.

Cresh sighed, “Hm. Very surprised you got the better of him. Not much brain in that one…but damned useful muscle.”

Merco noticed the containers at his hip and could blatantly see the Ansheetans trapped inside, “I see you’ve discovered the locals.”

Cresh smirked, “Teeny little things aren’t they?”

Merco smiled back, “That they are. What are you going to do with them?”

“What do you care?” was the flippant reply.

The man shrugged, “Well I’m just hoping you don’t take too many of them. Not much to eat on this planet. They aren’t too bad if you cook ’em right.”

Cresh made a face of mild surprise, “Huh. Gurt said they tasted good too. But then again, he’d eat anything.”

Very quietly Merco clicked his tongue in Ansheetan so the mercenary wouldn’t hear him, ”Fly in front of me, Anu.”

Anu, who had flown down and hid behind Merco’s leg, obediently flew up into the air in front of him. With a fast sweep of his hand, Merco snatched her out of the air dramatically. She squeaked loudly for effect but also because Merco had never grabbed her so fast before. It was honestly scary.

Cresh raised a brow ridge at the catch.

Merco held Anu up, “Might I make a proposition?”

The mercenary shrugged.

“Say I help you catch and collect some of these little guys…would you get me off this planet and dump me at the nearest space port?” he proposed.

Cresh seemed to think a moment, “Not really sure I’d trust you. I did maroon you here in the first place. You might be wanting to pay me back from that.”

Merco flipped his free hand subtly, “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and forget it ever happened if you’ll just get me off this planet.”

“Get ready…” Merco tittered in Ansheetan almost without moving his lips.

Again, the mercenary took on a pondering expression and then a slow smile split his face. Merco didn’t like the look.

“Go.” He whispered.

“I think I can manage without you.” Cresh announced aiming the pistol more deliberately, “So turn around and keeping walking back the way you… ACK!”

Before Cresh could register the movement, a blur entered his periphery and suddenly his goggles were splattered with a thick purple substance that was reminiscent of paint. Everything went black. He cursed and wiped his sleeve across his face to clear his vision. But before he could do that Merco released Anu, surged forward, struck Cresh in the legs, and threw him off of the wall onto the ground. The mercenary growled and blindly aimed his energy pistol, firing a couple shots. But Merco quickly kicked his hand and the weapon went flying, bouncing off the wall nearby.

In an instant, Merco was on top of Cresh, gripping his throat with his strong prosthetic arm. He quickly gripped the clear canister full of Ansheetans and the one containing the chrysalis pod, pulled them off the mercenary, and with a fast squeeze he unlocked the mechanisms to free them.

…

Commander Madala had been trapped in the mercenary’s plastic cage along with several other Ansheetan citizens; some awake, some unconscious. Every attempt to escape was met with disappointment and nothing she or the others did made a difference; the container was impenetrable for them. Despair set in when the mercenary went about his dastardly business, even breaking into the Temple of Emergence and stealing a pod. He acted like he was going to gather more when his attention was drawn elsewhere. Commander Madala hovered near the top of the container, trying to see what it was but couldn’t.

Was it Merco? Had he finally arrived?

The mercenary reached down into a pocket on his pant leg and pulled out a thick metallic disk that resembled the top of the container they were imprisoned in. He twisted the two metal tabs in opposite directions and instantly a second container formed. Madala could only watch helplessly as he placed the chrysalis pod into the container and attach it to a clip on his belt beside them.

It wasn’t until the mercenary walked through the city at a brisk pace, powerfully moved upward, and was standing on the front wall of Anashee that she was able to see. All the way across the valley, past the farm and river lands, the EFP leader could see Merco’s huge silhouette in the distance. A deafening boom made her and the others fall down to the bottom of the container when the mercenary fired his projectile weapon. The sound hurt it was so loud and was followed by the thundering voice of their captor.

Had…had he shot Merco?

It wasn’t until a few minutes passed that Commander Madala could see what was happening. Merco was approaching the wall of Anashee, hands in the air whilst the mercenary menaced him with the energy firing weapon. The two giants spoke to one another in that low, vibrating language that Merco used. None knew what was being said but the Commander made sure she and the others who were awake were moving inside the container with lively energy. She needed Merco to see them.

They continued to speak until suddenly everything happened at once. Madala saw the flash of EFP uniforms, the mercenary cried out, Merco charged forward, and they were all thrown down with tremendous force. She and the others trapped were momentarily stunned from the ground shaking movement. Above, Merco was straddling the mercenary and holding him down. His eyes were intense when they met hers. Though it was intimidating to witness as his huge hand swooped down and grabbed both containers in a powerful grip, Madala had never been so happy to see the giant alien. A mechanical chirp from the top made her sigh with relief; they were free.

Her relief didn’t last long when the mercenary fought back and Merco lost his grip on the containers. A cry of terror rang out from the prisoners when they were flung through the air and hit the ground. Ansheetan bodies toppled on top of one another as the clear container rolled and finally came to a stop. Madala’s crest vibrated with pain as she crawled out of the tube and flopped out onto the ground. Several others followed. They were free.

Her head was still foggy when someone was pulling her to her feet, “Commander! Are you all right?”

She looked to see Combatant Coroc and several others landing to aid her and the others, “I-I’m fine…help the injured…and find the other container with the chrysalis pod.”

“Already on it.” Coroc assured her.

And suddenly, the fight turned…and not in Merco’s favor

…

Suddenly, Cresh swung his arm up and struck Merco in his wounded side. The man grunted and accidentally tossed the container a few feet from them. He didn’t have time to check if anyone was hurt before Cresh reached up and slapped a hand on Merco’s bare stomach.

[ZAP!]

Every muscle in Merco’s body seized up, tightening with painful rigidity. The electrical current running through his body rendered him helpless and unable to move as the alien mercenary removed his cybernetic hand from his throat and crawled out from under him. Whilst Merco trembled, Cresh managed to wipe the purple gunk from his goggles enough to clear his vision. The dark goggles focused on Merco for another second until he remove his hand. The shocking stopped and Merco fell over on his back. His muscles couldn’t react. A cold sweat beaded on his skin as he gasped for air.

Cresh smirked, a bit of sweat beading on his head as well, “Guess you don’t know what I am do you? Otherwise, you would’ve known not to do that.” He wiped his goggles again, “I’m a Gymnoti.”

The white skinned alien with the tall blue Mohawk stood up and reached around on his belt to withdraw another energy weapon, “You see, my species, if stressed, can produce a powerful electric shock to defend ourselves. Physically taxing… but effective. Been awhile since I’ve had to use that little defense mechanism.”

…

It all happened so fast but Merco suddenly went stiff, his great body shaking without control until he collapsed. The mercenary was up, speaking in a tone that sounded friendly but was decidedly not.

Coroc swore with frustration. The plan was they would blind the invader long enough for Merco to step in and kill him. However, it seemed the mercenary had gained the upper hand.

And then the Commander straightened herself with her plume raised slightly, “Coroc, I need a distraction.”

“Commander?”

“Distract that monster for me. I don’t have time to explain.”

…

As Cresh stood over the paralyzed human, he cocked his head inquisitively at the man’s belt and made a face when he tugged the familiar knife from Merco’s belt.

“This is my knife.” He commented and then sneered, “Oh…so you’re in league with these little pipsqueaks? How interesting.”

Cresh tucked the knife into his belt and his hand reached for another energy projectile pistol at his leg.

“You know, it’s ironic how close you came to actually leaving this mud ball.” He leveled the pistol at Merco’s head, “But I guess you’re going to rest here forever.”

Just as he was squeezing the trigger, several Ansheetans flew right into the mercenary’s view and latched on to his goggle lenses, blocking his vision again.

[CRACK!] the energy pistol shot.

The projectile of white energy missed Merco’s head by mere inches.

Cresh pulled back slightly with a shout of frustration, swatting at the tiny attackers, ”Gah! Get off me, you little pests!”

Shaking, he sat up just in time to see Anu fly in front of him, pointing and shouting.

“Merco! The weapon!”

Not far away, Merco could see the first energy pistol he’d kicked from the mercenary’s hand laying in the dirt. His muscles felt only partially functional as he rolled onto his knees and crawled for the weapon.

Just as he gripped it with his prosthetic…[CRACK!]

Merco flinched as he felt dozens of sharp stinging sensations against his side. The end of his amputated arm went numb. When he opened his eyes, he lifted his left arm and saw the metal and silicone of his prosthetic dangling in mangled pieces from the end of his stump. Biohydraulic fluid squirted all over like milky pink blood.

“Tsk. What a damn shame…could’ve sold that little piece of hardware for a pile of credits.” Cresh shook his head with his pistol still leveled at the human.

Merco was momentarily stunned by the sight of his prosthetic shattered and broken. Other than the shrapnel that had pierced him, he felt no pain from it. He looked over his shoulder at the mercenary who stood four feet away with an energy pistol aimed at his head again.

At that moment Merco saw what looked like Commander Madala flying in stealthily behind the mercenary. She had her arms wrapped around something small and shiny and it was glowing blue. With a quick drop she released the object down the back of the mercenary’s shirt. Cresh flinched, feeling the object and swung a hand around, swatting the tiny commander to the ground. Then he felt his back and felt the tiny tubular shape.

His brows lifted with horror, “Oh SH–!”

[BOOM!]

Chapter 46: Aftermath

Merco barely had time to react when the concussive force of the explosive coupled with the hot stinging mist of fluids and viscera hit him. He automatically rolled over, covering his head until the echoing sound slowly faded into the air. The shaking was there; loud noises always made him flinch if not tremble. Rolling over he sat back up, wiping a pink substance from his face. It wasn’t until he viewed the mangled, meaty framework of the mercenary laid over on the ground that he realized he was covered in a mist of his blood. He clenched his fist, trying to stop the shaking. It subsided quicker than he anticipated, most likely because it was an enemy and not one of his comrades who got blown to pieces.

It was over. The mission was a success.

He looked down at the broken remains of his prosthetic. It was surreal to see a once functioning part of himself now turned into a useless pile of junk. With slow movements he twisted the special ring that connected the device to the end of his arm. It clicked and the damaged part came free leaving his stump topped with an electronic, metal connector cap. The numbness was the most disturbing part. Even though his prosthetic didn’t register pain it still was connected to her nerves in such a way that we could detect pressure and texture. Feeling nothing was disconcerting.

Whistling cheers rose up from within the city and in the air.

In seconds Anu was in his view, “Merco! We did it!”

The man smiled and nodded, “Yeah. We did it. Are you ok?”

“A bit deaf…but I’ll be fine.” Her eyes grew almost horrified seeing Merco without his prosthetic arm, “Oh…Merco.”

He looked at his left stub and managed a gentle look, “Yeah. Kinda shocks me too.”

Merco suddenly noticed a small group of EFP members gathered not far from the mercenary’s remains. Painfully, Merco stood up and approached. It wasn’t until he was a couple steps away that he realized what had happened.

Commander Madala lay on the ground lifeless whilst a medic was urgently trying to revive her. Combatant Coroc stood nearby, trying to remain stolid.

“Oh no…” Merco whispered as he got on his knees.

The commander wasn’t responding at all and from the way her tiny head lolled every time the medic touched her, Merco knew she was gone. The impact of being swatted from the air by the mercenary was powerful and fatal. At last, the medic stopped her efforts, shaking her head with frustration.

The man sighed with regret for her, his eyes stinging. Though there were many times when she didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt and always aired on the side of caution when it came to matters involving him, he knew she cared deeply for her people and Anashee. Her sacrifice to safeguard it was proof of this and only emphasized her bravery.

Very softly he touched her little forehead with his finger, giving her plumage a stroke, “She saved us…all of us.” Merco mentioned quietly.

“Her heroism will be remembered by all of Anashee.” Coroc said solemnly, “She must be brought to our Elder.”

Several of the EFP began lifting her up but Merco held out his hand next to the tiny body, “I will take her.”

Coroc waved his arm and gestured to the capsule laying across the field, “We’ll take her. You should take the chrysalis pod back to the Temple.”

Merco nodded and marched over to the capsule laying in the field. Several attending Ansheetans backed away from the capsule when he knelt down and plucked it up in his hand. He stood, moved to the city and stepped over the wall with a bit of difficulty considering he only had one arm but he managed to enter Anashee.

As he tip-toed through the empty streets, minding his steps for any who were still unconscious, he heard a little voice calling his name. Before he could turn around Pixie hit his neck and was clinging to him with earnest.

“Pixie?” he tried to see her but couldn’t get his neck to bend that way.

“Merco! What happened? Your arm!” she gasped.

He automatically wanted to raise his left arm and comfort her with it but it was gone, “I know. Don’t worry about that. I’ll be ok.” He felt her cling to his neck even more and then held up the pod, “Come on. Let’s take this back to the Temple.”

Merco carefully traipsed through the city, whilst Pixie flew on ahead to reassure herself that her brother and Dr. Jasta were all right. Though the temple was damaged and they were both injured, Verin and Dr. Jasta had made it out with non-life-threatening wounds from the encounter. Pixie and Merco were both relieved. The pod was too damaged to be reinstalled so Merco helped remove the chrysalis and place it into a brand-new pod to incubate further. All life signs were still reading as normal.

Once that duty was performed, Merco decided to head back out and check the mercenary’s ship since it was his now. Pixie wanted to accompany him but he convinced her to stay in Anashee since he planned on returning once he assessed the ship to see if it was fine to fly. His trip was slower than usual considering he ached all over and walking was difficult. But he had to know the condition of the ship.

When he finally arrived he almost laughed aloud seeing that the mercenaries had left the back ramp open. One less hardship to overcome since prying open a ship ramp was next to impossible without heavy-duty tools or a passcode. He stepped onto the ramp and slowly ascended, feeling sharp bolts of pain through his body with every upward step. Merco winced and had to grab the handles along the bulkhead to keep himself standing. Inside it was a wide metal grated floor with numerous panels lining the bulkhead walls. Each panel no doubt was a storage compartment. Two unoccupied bunks bordered the right wall and the cockpit lay beyond.

As Merco walked toward the cockpit he noticed a small clear container sitting on a ledge next to the furthest bunk. There was a flicker of movement inside it which drew his attention. And then he all but dropped to his knees next to the bunk when he saw the familiar maroon jumpsuit and tall, dark plumage.

“Traynar!” he exclaimed seizing up the container. “You-You’re alive!”

Even in the container, Merco could see the little EFP fighter’s face light up with relief and joy as he leaned into the clear wall, “Merco! Get me out of here!”

“Ok, buddy. Hang on.” He assured, setting the container on the bunk pad.

With a careful twist he deactivated the barrier on the top, allowing Traynar to fly out. However, he didn’t get very high before he dropped weakly to the padded bunk. Merco very laid a finger on his back.

“Are you ok?”

Traynar flicked his plumage a bit and rasped weakly, “Thirsty.”

Merco’s eyes scanned around the ship a moment until he saw the icon for water against the wall, “I’ve gotcha. Just hang on.”

He touched the water panel on the wall, it slid open, and a ball of water appeared in the slot. When going on long space faring voyages liquid water could free-float about the cabin in low gravity situations and that could prove disastrous to the electronics. To combat this, water was contained in clear permeable pouches that dissolved once drank. He plucked up the water ball and brought it over to Traynar. The little alien could see the water but he’d never seen such a method of distributing it. Merco gently squeezed the pouch as he would when drinking and a couple droplets bubbled up from the access point. The Ansheetan all but fell against the waterbed-sized pouch and greedily drank the droplets.

“Easy. Easy. Not too fast now.” Merco encouraged.

He squeezed it again and Traynar drank more. At last, he no longer felt the dry rasp of thirst.

“There you go. That better?” Merco asked.

Traynar nodded, sighing with relief and fatigue as he laid on the water ball.

After several moments he smiled at Merco, “I’ve never been so glad to see your hairy face. I thought I was going to die in there.” He looked around with caution, “We-we’d better leave before they come back.”

Merco shook his head, “No need. The mercenaries are dead.”

Traynar glanced up at him and then noticed his armless stub as well as the wounds covering the giant alien, “You killed them?”

“One of them…Commander Madala got the other one.” He admitted, a sad tone creeping into his voice.

“The Commander?” Traynar asked with amazement.

“Commander Madala was killed…she made a brave sacrifice.”

The Ansheetan flier shook his head with disbelief.

“It’s a long story. But what about you? Anu and I thought you were dead.”

Traynar’s dark plume lifted at the sound of his mate’s name, “Anu!” he stumbled off the water ball, trying to fly.

Merco’s fingers gently wrapped around him, “Whoa, whoa. Easy, Traynar.”

“Anu! I have to go to her.” He insisted, weakly pushing against the giant’s gentle hold.

“We will. We will. But you’re too weak to fly.”

With slight movement he placed the Ansheetan on his bare shoulder, “Just ride up there for now. We’ll go back to Anashee with this good news. Could really use some right now.”

Traynar wanted to argue but knew he was too weak to fly to the forest, much less all the way to Anashee. Taking up the water ball, Merco drank the whole thing; he hadn’t realized how thirsty he was after the whole ordeal. He went for a couple more in the wall, finished those and then began walking down the ramp.

As he crossed the sands and into the forest he spoke, “You know Anu grieved for you. She helped me so much today during the battle.”

Traynar had to hold back his emotions at hearing that. Typically, Anu stayed away from the fighting as she was a trained scout. Her anxiety and emotions usually prevented her from doing too much in the way of “bravery”. However, ever since he helped and befriended Merco, he had seen Anu become less fearful and a more confident flier overall.

“Merco!” a voice shouted from the trees below.

The man stopped and glanced around for the source of the voice. A waving Rogashay rider sitting astride a sand dragon caught his attention.

“What word on the battle, Merco?” the rider called out. “Were you victorious?”

Merco nodded, “Both mercenaries are dead. We won. How is your leader, Boroxle?”

“He is resting, but he wanted to know the outcome of the other battle.” The rider shouted. “What were the casualties?”

Merco frowned, “Commander Madala was lost…but I don’t have an official count. Tell your leader Boroxle to rest and I owe him a great debt for his bravery in helping me today.”

The rider gave a Rogashay salute and wheeled his sand dragon back around to deliver the news.

A smile formed on his bearded face, “I’m sure Boroxle will have an epic story to tell for generations to come.”

“As will you. Tell me what has happened?” Traynar insisted.

All the way to Anashee the two told their stories of the battles and the capture.

…

Later…

It was dark by the time Merco returned to Anashee with Traynar riding on his shoulder. The EFP soldier stood, holding onto Merco’s ear for stability as he tried to survey the damage. It didn’t look profoundly as bad as he imagined it to be. He expected the entire city to be in ruins. Yet…it was still sobering.

Many Ansheetan voices called out to Merco as he approached across the river and farmlands and he tried to acknowledge all of them with small waves or nods. Then one voice they both recognized rang out.

“Merco! You’re back!” Anu called as she flew over the wall toward him.

Upon seeing his mate, Traynar leaped from Merco’s shoulder and flew straight at her. It was dark enough, Anu could only make out the outline of someone flying toward her. She stopped, veering to the side to give him room to avoid a midair collision. But he veered with her and all but tackled her through the air.

At first Anu was confused but then the familiar forehead pressed to hers and the voice, “Anu.”

Disbelieving, Anu grabbed Traynar’s head and pulled it away from hers so she could look at him. Tears flooded her eyes and her plume fluffed.

“Traynar?! Is it really you?”

He grasped her hands and put his forehead against hers again, “It’s me, Anu. I’m back.”

Anu was sobbing with tremendous emotion rolling inside her, relief, joy, disbelief.

“They-They said you were dead! That you’d been killed on the mission.” She blubbered.

Traynar closed his eyes with a smile, “Close… but I’m here.”

Midair the pair embraced, reunited. Merco smiled at the reunion, thinking on how he might receive a similar reception upon returning home to Earth. But now, he was exhausted and needed rest. He trudged past Anashee to his sleeping “quarters” and groaned audibly when he knelt down to sprawl out on his sleeping mat. Laying down wasn’t too much better than standing; his rib cage felt traumatized and everything else hurt too. He flopped over on his back, tucking the “pillow roll” underneath his head. Merco sighed deeply and patiently waited for sleep to wrap around him.

It wasn’t until a bit later when he felt something small land on his chest, “Merco?”

He smiled softly hearing Pixie’s voice though nearly asleep, “Hmm?”

She laid down on his chest just over his heart, “I’m so glad you came back.”

“Me too.” He whispered sleepily as he laid a gentle hand over her in a protective tent. “I’m happy you’re ok too.”

His mountainous chest lifted her with every breath. In no time he was asleep but Pixie was still awake listening to the familiarity of his inner sounds. Though Merco had returned Pixie’s heart was troubled. She knew his victory meant he had the mercenary ship. And if he had the ship then he would be leaving. Merco didn’t feel the tiny tears plopping down on his chest.

Chapter 47: Leaving

In the days that followed, many things happened. A grand ceremonial funeral was held for Commander Madala as well as all others who lost their lives in the attacks. Their bodies were reduced to ash and were poured back into the waters from whence they each Emerged. From water they Emerged, to water they returned so their energies could awaken more Emerged Ansheetans who came to the waters.

When he was feeling better, Merco set to removing the bodies of the mercenaries. He deposited them out in the Wasteland to be buried. Luckily for Merco and his one-armed state, the ship contained some anti-grav movers. Otherwise, he probably couldn’t have accomplished the feat.

Anashee was repaired and of course Merco lent his strength to the task; albeit awkward at times with one arm. The Rogashay settlement was also being rebuilt and the warrior clan coalesced once again after the horrific attack.

And whenever he could, Merco was out at the mercenary ship, checking everything to ensure she was flight-worthy. Luckily enough there wasn’t much to do other than reconnect a few wires that the Ansheetans tampered with in their previous mission. In fact, all it needed was a pilot and the ship would be off Anshai-tee.

The day before Merco had decided to take off a celebration/farewell party was held in the Anashee valley. Ansheeta from all the bordering lands came from Pela Canyon, the lake town of Trit, and even the Rogashay. It was an event filled with food, drink, and fanciful aerial acrobatics to celebrate the victory and also to bid farewell to the giant alien who came to live on their planet. As Merco sat, surrounded by the crowds and being honored with a speech from the Elder, he noted that Pixie wasn’t around. Typically, she’d been so close to him in the days following their victory, but he hadn’t seen her since the party began.

Amid the party, the Rogashay leader and his mate approached him. Merco gave him a respectful nod in greeting.

Boroxle had endured a broken arm from his heroic actions but was recovering. With a curt jerk from his back weapon sling he unsheathed an energy spear…or at least half of one. He held it up high to Merco in a “take it” gesture.

Very delicately, Merco took the spear half which wasn’t much bigger than a toothpick, “What’s this all about?”

“That is for you, Merco.” Boroxle stated with importance.

He reached around and withdrew the other half of the spear, “This is what’s left of the spear I used in our great battle. It was snapped in half. I want you to have the other half and never forget what you did for my people and for me. I will never forget.”

Humbled by the gesture, Merco nodded to him, “I will treasure it, Boroxle. Thank you.”

Boroxle saluted him in the Rogashay way and Kriees did the same before speaking, “May you journey safe, Merco.”

“Thank you, Emissary.”

As it began to get dark and the celebration beginning to wind down, Merco finally stood up and bowed his head to those gathered.

“Tomorrow I will leave Anshai-tee for my home world of Earth. I want to thank the kindnesses and generosity I’ve been shown by you all and know that without that I probably would not have survived here.” He glanced around but still didn’t see Pixie, “I wish to keep your peoples and this world a well-guarded secret. Know that I may never return but I hope one day I can return here to visit.”

Several whistles filled the air and the crowd gave him room to move as he left the Anashee valley, crossing the farm and river lands for the last time. He turned and surveyed the city, twinkling with lights one last time before heading out for his ship.

…

Later near sunset…

Merco stood back from the ship looking at it from a short distance. All was in readiness. Thanks to his little friends the repairs had been made and the ship sat ready and able to transport him home. It almost brought tears to his eyes. Though it had only been a little more than an Earth year, he’d yearned for this moment; the chance to leave Anshai-tee and see his family once again. He’d given up hope many times and too often in that time he figured this would be his final resting place. But now, hope gleamed in all its beautiful radiance.

A small touch on his shoulder signaled the landing of Anu and Traynar whom had flown after him following the party. He smiled gently as he turned his head a bit.

“Is it ready?” Traynar asked, looking up at the massive ship.

Merco nodded, “Ready as she’ll ever be.”

“She? It’s… a ship…” Traynar seemed confused.

“We humans call our ships “she”.” Merco explained with a quiet laugh. “Silly, I know.”

Anu also looked up at the ship looming over them in silence, “When will you depart?”

“Tomorrow at sunrise I think. Just have a few things to gather and need to get a good sleep so I’ll be fresh to pilot her. [Heh!] Been so long I hope I remember how.” He looked at his stump, “And piloting one-handed might be challenging”

There was a silence until Anu said, “I know this is what you want, but we wish you didn’t have to go.”

A smile lifted the corner of Merco’s mouth, “Yeah. I know. Believe it or not, part of me wants to stay. You have all been so good to me. I can never repay the kindness you’ve shown me.” His eyes roved around a moment, “By the way, have you seen Pixie?”

Anu lowered her plumage, “She said she wanted to be alone for a bit and flew off before the celebration.”

The man sighed deeply, “I think I might know where she is.”

..

Anashee Lake…

Pixie sat alone on the sandy shore of Anashee Lake in almost the exact spot where she Emerged. The place was special for her. It’s where she met Merco for the first time and where they had spent several nights camping out together. She’d seen him haul massive Gold Scaled Leviathans from the depths of the lake and cook them on the shore. He’d shown her how to swim albeit from the safety of his hands. So many memories in just a couple rotations and they were about to be just that…memories.

Selfish as it was, Pixie didn’t want Merco to leave. She didn’t want him to fix up the mercenary ship and go back to his home planet. She couldn’t be at the party only to be constantly reminded that he was leaving.

Why couldn’t he stay?

Everyone saw him as a hero now. There probably weren’t a dozen Ansheetans or Rogashay on the planet that didn’t like him.

Behind her Pixie could hear the trees snapping and the faint tremors of Merco’s approach. A part of her wanted to fly away and hide from him simply because she knew what it would bring. He seemed to search for her for a bit until he spotted her and stepped through the trees toward her.

“Hey, Pixie. Is this where you’ve been the whole time?”

She sat with her knees up, hugging them. With a rush of air, Merco’s enormous body settled near her as he too sat by the lake. Pixie tucked her head; she didn’t want to look at him just now.

“I thought I might find you here.” His deep voice rumbled gently.

They were quiet for a time, just staring out across the surface of the water. It was smooth and pristine, very unlike the feelings boiling inside of the young Ansheetan.

Merco’s sigh rushed out of him with a deep hollowness, “I’ll be taking off tomorrow morning. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay one more night.”

Pixie’s delicate fingers clenched at her jumpsuit legs.

“Why do you have to go?!” she suddenly blurted out in a loud accusation.

Merco closed his eyes and frowned, “You know why, Pixie.”

Pixie’s bright blue eyes filled with tears as she spoke, “But why leave now? Why can’t you stay longer?”

“Waiting wouldn’t make it any easier for…for either of us.” Merco admitted, choking slightly on the words, “I miss my family on Earth, Pixie. I need to see them and let them know that I didn’t just disappear. I-I have a new baby granddaughter whose never met me…”

The little Ansheetan sobbed, burying her face in her knees.

Merco felt his own eyes stinging with tears as he reached over and gently plucked her up, “Oh…oh. It’s all right, Pixie. Don’t cry.”

He held her so delicately as he lifted her up. Suddenly she shot from his hand and hit against his chest, clenching the cloth of his new shirt. His chest shuddered as she clung to him in a hugging gesture. Merco brought his hand up and covered her with it, returning the human gesture he’d taught her. His heart was being torn. Of course, he wanted to see his family but this little Ansheetan had almost become one of his children. He’d watched her Emerge from her chrysalis and since that day they were rarely apart.

“I-I want to go with you!” Pixie cried.

Merco shook his head with a soft smile, “I know. But that wouldn’t be safe for you.”

She sobbed and shook her head, “I don’t care! I want to go with you!”

The man felt saddened by her pleas but knew he never could take her with him, “Pixie. You belong here on Anshai-tee…I belong on Earth.” He sighed, “I do wish you could come with me…but not all humans are kind like me…or other species for that matter. I don’t want anyone to know of you, your people, or this planet. We have to keep this a secret so anyone like those mercenaries won’t find you and exploit the Ansheetans or the Rogashay.”

Pixie clenched his shirt more as if refusing to let him go.

Merco delicately stroked her back with his finger to soothe her until he said, “Hey. Hey? You know what?”

Her little head looked up at him.

“That ship can go wherever I want it to go. Someday, I’ll try to come back here and visit. How about that?”

Her blue eyes blinked back tears as she hit his chest and said as a command, “You will come back.”

“I promise, Pixie. I promise.” He assured her softly, “But you must promise me something too.” He plucked her up from his chest and held her before his face, “I want you to promise me that you’ll live your life and not let missing me interfere with that. I want you to be happy and successful.”

The little Ansheetan bobbed her head with tears.

He smiled at her, “And another thing…do not try to sneak aboard my ship. I WILL bring you back.” he gently poked her stomach with his thumb.

Pixie shed her tears but couldn’t hold back her small laugh when his thumb brushed against her stomach.

“You promise?” he smiled.

She nodded only after her poked her again, “I promise.”

“Good.”

With her arms she wrapped them around his thumb in a small hug which made him tear up again.

“Can we ‘camp out’ here?” she asked, using his words for “sleeping outside”.

Merco nodded, “For you, Pixie, of course.”

…

The next morning…

Merco awoke with the rising of the suns and with Pixie sleeping in his pocket. He rose from his prone position and gently began walking through the forest back toward his ship, all the while trying not to rouse Pixie from her slumber. He’d open the flap to peek in at her from time to time but she was resting peacefully despite his movement. A sadness filled him as he walked, viewing that content tiny form nestled next to his heart. He would miss her. He would miss Anu and Traynar. He would miss all the little peoples he’d met here on this alien world.

When he finally arrived at the ship, glistening in the morning sun, he paused a moment. He could hear many voices in the trees around him. Merco made sure he was careful as he moved and finally came to the sands.

Anu and Traynar appeared before him and he gestured to the crowds, “What’s all this?”

“No one has ever seen an alien ship take off before.” Traynar explained. “And…it wouldn’t be proper to not be here to watch you go.”

Merco nodded, “You may want to get everyone back a bit further. A take-off, even from here, will be intense.”

The pair nodded.

Anu blinked back tears, “Well…travel safely, Merco. We’ll miss you.”

Merco smiled and scooped them both toward his chest with a hand. They seemed a bit bewildered at first as he held them in place.

“I’ll miss you too.” He said softly, “Take care of yourselves.”

Gradually his hand released them and they floated backward. Then they began shooing everyone back a bit further as he instructed.

Merco took two steps and gently nudged the tiny body in his pocket, “Pixie. Wake up.”

The lavender alien stretched and soon was poking up out of his shirt pocket. Her eyes locked on the massive ship and seemed to glisten again as she sagged sadly.

Merco plucked her out, held her up, and slowly brought his forehead to hers in the Ansheetan affection greeting. When he pulled away he stared at her, trying not to cry.

“I’ll miss you little one.”

“I’ll miss you too.” She choked.

He opened his hand and gradually she floated out of it. Unhurried, he turned from her and began walking toward the ramp of the ship. He ascended and the heavy door groaned shut behind him. Everything was quiet for a time as Merco situated himself into the pilot seat and did all the preflight checks needed. Though he didn’t like them, he grabbed the safety harness and buckled himself in. Then he activated the ship’s engines and they screeched loudly. Sand flew in all directions from the backwash as heat belched forth from the thrusters. The rumble was so loud none could help but cover their sensitive ears. Despite its bulk the ship began to hover. Its landing gear folded smoothly into set compartments along the ship’s underbelly. Higher and higher it rose into the sky, the sound deafening.

Pixie never tore her eyes from the ship as it ascended higher into the yellow Ansheetan sky. It seemed to rotate slightly and then with an incredible blasting burst of sound and speed it shot away. Further and further, it seemed to shrink until it and the sound died away. A faint flicker of light signaled the ship’s departure from the planet. A gradual cheer of amazement whistled from the crowd at the amazing experience.

Pixie could only stare at the sky and whisper, “Come back soon, Merco.”

…

…

Earth…many days thereafter…

Four “days” of flying saw Merco to the nearest space port. He promptly reported to the nearest ILE (Interstellar Law Enforcement) office to report his appearance and to contact his family to assure them he was all right. Never had so many disbelieving words and tears been shed through a communication portal. Like speaking to a ghost his sons were stunned by the image of their father alive and well but wanted to meet with him as soon as possible. Per protocol, he was quarantined and tested before he was shipped back to Earth to reunite with his family.

Since he was flying a known mercenary ship with numerous warrants, the ILE had many questions for Merco. Merco said nothing of the Ansheetans or of Anshai-tee. He only spoke of being marooned by the mercenaries for about a year on some desolate planet, surviving by his wits alone. And when the mercenaries returned to finish the job he got the drop on them and stole their ship. Luckily, given Gurt and Cresh’s extensive rap sheet as well as Merco’s impeccable record, the ILE felt no need to deny Merco’s account nor launch an extensive investigation. If there were two less notorious mercenaries prowling the galaxy and were lost on some remote world it was not worth wasting resources.

It was a few more days before Merco reached Earth via transport ship which landed in one of the larger spaceship ports in the Northern Hemisphere. Carrying only his worn leather jacket, the clothes on his back, and his passport permits, Merco walked out of the ship down the long corridors that lead into the extensive port. When he exited he glanced past crowds of humans and a few other species, searching for a familiar face.

A waving pair of arms drew his attention and as joyful tears clouded his vision he spotted Martin in his uniform and then Tony with his wife holding a dark-haired toddler. As one the man rushed forward and his sons did the same as they caught each other in a heartfelt embrace. Only having one arm, Merco couldn’t quite wrap it all the way around his two grown sons but it was wonderful. He hadn’t embraced someone his own size in so long it almost felt strange. The feelings were so powerful it was a blubber of emotions. Martin pulled away first, examining his father’s bare stump.

“Are you ok, Dad? What happened to your arm?” he asked with genuine concern.

“It’s a long story…very long.” He admitted as he sighed so deeply, “Oh, my boys! My boys. I never thought I’d see you again. And Claire!” he reached around and embraced Tony’s wife.

And then he noticed the toddler balanced on her hip staring at the whole affair with suspicious brown eyes. His granddaughter, Tony’s first child. She was brown skinned like Tony but with hints of lighter complexion peeking in from her mother. Her dark hair was curly and everywhere to compliment her round face. She was beautiful.

“And…who is this?” he asked, trying to reign in his sobs.

“This is your granddaughter, Millie.” Claire announced, looking at her daughter.

Merco laughed and sobbed in the same breath, “H-Hi, Millie. Hi.”

The child seemed unsure and shyly put her head into her mother’s shoulder.

Claire bounced her a bit, looking at her, “That’s your grandpa, Millie. Your grandpa. Can you say, “hi”?”

Still the child was shy and wouldn’t look at this new stranger.

Merco shook his head, heart full, “It’s ok, Millie. I’ve got some catching up to do, haven’t I?”

Reunited the family made their way together through the port to go to a restaurant for chats. There was much to say and now it could be said. Even though Merco wanted to tell them of his adventures and the tiny aliens who had befriended and helped him, he kept the secret close to his heart. Perhaps someday he’d tell them. Perhaps someday he’d show them. But for now it was his secret to keep.

Epilogue

Two years later…

“Gampa tell me a story!” the four-year-old begged.

Merco smiled fondly, setting Millie down in her bed and tucking her in, “What story would you like to hear my little pixie?”

“Tell me about the fairies again!” she begged, brushing her pile of dark curls from her face.

Again, Merco smiled at his granddaughter. Even though he’d kept his adventure with the Ansheetans a secret, even from his own sons, he would tell Millie stories of little flying “fairies” that echoed the real experience he had not two years prior. Millie loved to hear about Pixie’s adventures and about her friends Anu and Traynar the brave warriors. She particularly loved it when her grandpa would speak in “fairy talk”, clicking and whistling amid funny words. For the little girl they were wonderful bedtime stories, for Merco they were memories.

In his mind though he had been formulating a plan for a visit to that remote world. He’d taken leave of his job as a transport pilot for a while, so getting aboard a ship would be the first obstacle. He was determined to return and keep his promise…as well as tell his sons the whole story.

…

Sometime later on Anshai-tee…

The day had begun just like any other. Seraysa awoke and put on her EFP uniform to report for her scouting duties and to make a diplomatic trip to see the Rogashay settlement. Since Merco left Anshai-tee and there was no longer need for an ambassador, the Elder appointed her to be the liaison between the Rogashay and the Ansheetans. Though peace had been established and relations were diplomatic, there were sometimes minor spats that needed to be ironed out. Since the Rogashay leader Boroxle and his mate Kriees had high respect for Merco they gave little argument when Seraysa was appointed. If Merco trusted her then so did they.

With a small hop she ascended into the air to the reporting station where Anu her scouting leader would establish where she was to go today. Both Anu and Traynar had ascended the ranks of the EFP. Traynar, through democratic selection of the EFP and the Elder, had become the new Commander of the EFP upon Commander Madala’s death. Anu his mate and Seraysa’s mentor, had become the leader of the EFP scouting division.

Her new job was fulfilling and she had even started to catch the interest of a few males in the EFP. And yet, she still missed Merco. Some days she would venture out to the empty mat that he used to sleep on; unmoved and undisturbed since he left rotations ago. More often than not she would swing out to Lake Anashee to her place of Emergence just so she could stand in one of the massive footprints he’d left behind. They were slowly fading with each passing rotation but they always reminded Seraysa of her friend. She even had a dried scale of a Gold Scaled Leviathan decorating a wall in her home.

But, as she promised him, she carried on with her life.

She often wondered if he’d made it back to his home planet and reunited with his family. Who knew how far his home world was from Anshai-tee anyway? He might still be traveling. It had been almost five rotations since he’d left.

When she arrived at the scouting hub to get her daily assignment she entered Anu’s new office and received a smile.

“Hey, Seraysa. You’re early for your shift.” She commented.

“I have to go meet with Boroxle today don’t I?” she inquired.

Anu checked her assignment notes and nodded, “Yep. Apparently there’s a dispute about fishing rights in a part of Anashee Lake that needs smoothed out between the Rogashay and the Trits.” She made a face, “Shall I go with you? Might help to have two peacekeepers?”

Seraysa shook her head, “I can handle it.”

“Very good, then.” She noticed the young female’s far-off look, “You’re missing Merco aren’t you?”

Seraysa’s plumage lifted with surprise and then fell before she nodded.

Anu gave a sympathetic smile, “He’ll come back one of these days. He promised he would.”

The young Ansheetan managed a small smile and then nodded, “Yeah. I hope so.”

With that, Seraysa left the hub, flew over the wall and over the rocky border of Anashee to the forest beyond. She was halfway to Anashee Lake when a distant hissing seemed to cut the air. Seraysa picked at her ears to make sure she they weren’t plugging up. But the hissing continued and seemed to grow in volume. She stopped midair and stared up into the sky. A metallic flicker caught her attention from way up and her jaw seemed to drop open in disbelief.

It couldn’t be…

But as the hissing morphed into a deep rumbling and the metallic shape grew larger and more distinct her heart bloomed. She tipped forward and flew as fast as she could over the forest, never taking her eyes off the descending ship. But no matter how fast she flew she knew it would land before she ever reached the Wasteland.

Excitement filled her, anticipation. It had to be Merco…it had to be! However, as she watched the massive ship grow larger and louder in the distance she noted that it didn’t look anything like the ship he’d left in. Part of her dreaded to think that it wasn’t Merco but some other alien. But still she flew on.

Just as she thought the ship landed in the Wasteland long before she made it to the edge of the forest. Its landing impact coupled with the gust of wind from its backwash made the trees ahead of her rustle wildly and throw off her flight.

When she finally arrived at the border she could easily see the ship looming larger than almost everything she’d ever seen. It wasn’t the same ship Merco left in, that was certain. It looked more box-like and was a whitish color. Uncertainty halted her eagerness. She paused in favor of caution, landing in a tree to observe a moment. If it wasn’t Merco she needed to maintain secrecy.

From across the expanse of sand, Seraysa scouted the scene. The ship’s ramp was lowered on the backside and she could see a tall, dark silhouette that definitely looked like Merco. But then she saw a second silhouette moving down the ramp and then a third. She held her place. That is, until she heard the rumbling deep voice calling out across the expanse.

…

Martin and Tony had grown very impatient with their father’s cryptic explanation of this “vacation” they were taking. The last space port had been near the outskirts of anywhere they’d ever been before and the vague explanation of this entire trip was making them doubt their father’s sanity.

“All right, Dad. Enough. What’s this all about? Where the Hell are we?” Martin finally asked when they’d landed on a world that neither of them recognized or had even heard of before.

“This is it.” Merco stated, unbuckling his harness once he landed the ship and it powered down.

“What is?” Tony asked.

Their father gestured out the window, “This is where I was marooned.”

Both his grown sons looked at him and then one another, “Here?”

“That’s right. This is where those mercenaries left me.” He stated as he stood up from the pilot seat and moved to the back to lower the exit ramp.

Martin grabbed his dad’s new prosthetic arm, “Wait, Dad. Is this safe?”

Merco bobbed his head.

Before he pressed the button to lower the ramp he faced his sons, “Tony, Martin, I want your word of honor that you will never speak of this place or this location. We will wipe our ship logs of this place once we leave. Do you understand?”

Tony squinted, “But Dad, wiping the ship’s logs is practically illegal.”

Merco nodded, “I’ll still pay for the fuel but I don’t want anyone but myself and you to know about this place. This is a secret that I’ve kept from you…from everyone. But I’m sharing it with you now.”

“Why? Why the secrecy?” Martin asked.

A knowing smile crossed his bearded face as he pressed the ramp button, “You’ll see momentarily.”

The ship ramp lowered and he exited. Both Martin and Tony gave each other worried looks as if they were certain their father had gone completely off the rails and they were going to have to do something drastic. But they both exited the ship after him to stand on a flat sandy expanse of ground bordered by a huge swath of vegetation that was mostly chest high.

Merco walked out a bit, scanning the area pensively.

Then he raised his voice and called out, “Pixie?”

Martin and Tony stared at him when he suddenly began calling “Pixie” and then began whistling and making strange nonsense words. Tony had heard him using the strange noises when he told his daughter Millie stories.

Merco was silent for a moment, waiting.

“Um…Dad?” Tony cautiously questioned.

“Shh.” Merco shushed him with a subtle hand gesture. “Just wait…and don’t move either.”

Martin leaned in and whispered, “What’s he doing?”

Tony shrugged.

And then suddenly Merco made a happy, gentle noise and both the men saw a blur of blue and lavender fly toward them. Merco’s hands came out in front of him and all but caught the tiny blur, bringing his hands to his chest.

…

When Seraysa heard Merco’s voice it was instantaneous relief and a landslide of joy. With all the speed she could muster she flew out to the ship over the sands.

“MERCO!” she shouted as she flew.

Eventually she was close enough that he could see and hear her. He had a new robotic arm and his facial hair was shorter now but it was him. The giant human’s hands opened and she flew into them with notable energy.

“Merco! You came back! You came back!” she cried, jumping from his hands and clinging to his shirt.

His massive hands followed behind her, covering her completely in a huge but delicate hug, “Pixie! Oh, my little Pixie. You’re here.”

She gripped to his shirt as if to never release him as her eyes flooded, “I thought you’d never come back!”

“I’ve been trying to get back here for a while. But I finally made it.” He assured her. With a gentle pinch he held her up, “You’ve gotten bigger. And your little feathers are so tall now.”

She smiled and fluffed them, “And you got your arm back!”

“Yeah. Got a new one.” He laughed.

At length, the little Ansheetan felt another huge presence encroach closer and her eyes shot open when she beheld a second gigantic human and a third approaching Merco.

Merco smiled knowingly and looked up from his little friend to his sons, “Martin, Tony, this is Pixie.” He switched to Ansheetan, “Pixie, these are my sons, Martin and Tony.”

“From the pictures?” she inquired.

“Yes. From the pictures.” He confirmed.

He moved his hands and Pixie floated up and slowly toward the two enormous humans who were just as big as Merco. She stared at each of them and strangely she could see parts of Merco’s features in them: the color of their eyes, the shape of their jaws, their statures. They looked just like the pictures she’d seen save for the imposing size. The two giants stared at her with expressions that appeared almost fearful or bewildered.

“Sey-tala, Mar-tin. Sey-tala, To-ny.” She greeted, somewhat fumbling over their alien names.

“It-it talks?” Martin sounded stunned by the tiny being.

“She, Martin.” He corrected.

“What did she say?” Tony asked with amazement.

“She said hello.” Merco smiled.

Awkwardly, the men gave small waves to her.

Pixie stared at them and then looked to Merco, “Do-Do they like me?”

Merco chuckled, switching to Ansheetan again, “I think they’re a little shocked. I never told them about you…but I wanted them to meet you.”

“You-You speak her language? How?” Martin asked. “What is she?”

Merco held out his hand and Pixie landed in it, “I’ll tell you all about it.” Merco assured him, “Now, I can tell you the whole story.”

A/N: And that concludes my story 🙂 Thank you all so much for making me feel like it was worth it to put hours/days of my existence into this story. I had this concept and a few drabbles written on my computer for years but I never did anything with it and holy cow it actually became something. So thank you SO SO much for all the support!