⫸ [ TIME: 21:45 LOCAL PLANETARY TIME ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: CRASH SITE – KILL ZONE ]
⫸ [ STATUS: TERMINAL VELOCITY INTERCEPT ]
Gravity is a constant. It does not care about bravery or fear. It only cares about mass and distance.
Elian fell from the fuselage. The 8.5G environment grabbed him and pulled him down with the violence of a collapsing star.
He accelerated past sixty miles per hour in less than a second. The wind roared in his helmet. The ground rushed up to meet him.
He held the prototype Gravity Hammer in both hands. The copper coils glowed white-hot as they channeled the last dregs of the capacitor bank of the ship.
He did not aim for the Warlord. He aimed for the magnetic slate directly between the feet of the Warlord.
[ Brace for impact. ]
[ Discharge in 3... 2... NOW. ]
Elian swung.
THOOM.
The hammer struck the earth. The capacitor dumped its entire load into the coil.
The result was not a simple impact. It was a magnetic rejection event. The polarity of the ground and the polarity of the hammer clashed.
Physics dictated the outcome. Newton's Third Law stated that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
The ground exploded downward. It created a crater three meters wide. The magnetic recoil blasted upward. It hit Elian like a solid wall of air. It arrested his fall instantly. It turned a lethal impact into a controlled hover for a fraction of a second.
The Warlord was not so lucky.
The shockwave hit Target-Bravo from below.
The massive giant was lifted off his feet. His obsidian sword flew from his grip. He was thrown backward through the air. He smashed into the wreckage of a burning tree.
Elian landed in the center of the crater. His boots crunched on the glass-slag created by the heat. Steam hissed from his thermal skin.
He stood up. The hammer was smoking. The copper coils were fused and useless. He dropped it.
He drew his spear.
◤ COMBAT ANALYSIS ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Target: Warlord (Target-Bravo)
⬢ Status: Critical Damage
⬢ Totem Activity: Spiking
⬢ Threat: Berserk State Imminent
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Across the clearing the Warlord rose.
He should have been dead. His legs were twisted at unnatural angles. His chest was a ruin of burns and shrapnel. But he did not fall.
The red light in his chest cage flared brighter. It pulsed like a second heart. The bone totem was vibrating. It was feeding.
The Warlord screamed. It was not a sound of pain. It was the sound of biology being rewritten by force.
His broken legs snapped back into place with wet cracks. His muscles swelled. The grey skin around the totem turned black and necrotic. The parasite was consuming the host to keep the weapon fighting.
[ Warning. The Totem is overriding the nervous system of the host. ]
[ He is no longer sentient. He is a biological puppet. ]
The Warlord roared. He charged.
He moved faster than a biological entity of that mass should move. He ignored the mud. He ignored the gravity. He was a train made of meat and hate.
Elian did not run. He did not have the energy to run. His caloric reserves were dangerously low again. His vision swam with static.
Geometry, Elian thought. Vectors. Leverage.
He dropped into a low stance. He grounded his boots.
The Warlord swung a massive fist. It was a blow meant to decapitate.
Elian did not dodge. He stepped into the guard.
He activated the micro-thrusters on his dead suit. They had just enough residual charge for one burst.
Hisssss-CLACK.
The thrusters fired. Elian launched himself forward like a spear. He slipped under the arm of the giant.
He drove his own spear upward.
He didn't aim for the heart. The heart was protected by the bone cage.
He aimed for the chin.
The monomolecular tip entered the soft tissue under the jaw. It slid through the tongue. It punched through the palate. It pierced the brain stem.
The Warlord froze.
His momentum carried him forward. He crashed into the mud. He slid for five meters and stopped at the feet of Elian.
The red light in the chest flickered. The totem tried to repair the brain. It pulsed violently. It sent tendrils of black vein racing up the neck of the giant.
[ The parasite is attempting to bypass the brain stem. ]
[ It is trying to pilot the body manually. ]
"No," Elian said. His voice was cold.
He walked over to the twitching corpse. He placed his heavy boot on the glowing bone cage.
He raised his spear.
"Physics lesson number three," Elian whispered. "Structural Integrity."
He drove the spear down.
He slammed the point into the center of the red light. He put all his weight behind it. He put all his anger behind it.
CRACK.
The alien bone shattered.
The red light died instantly. The Warlord let out a final exhaling breath that smelled of rot and sulfur. The black veins receded. The body went limp.
Silence fell over the ravine.
The rain began to fall again. It washed the mud from Elian's armor. It hissed against his hot skin.
Elian looked up.
The army was watching.
One hundred and fifty giants stood in the fog. They held their weapons. They looked at the dead Warlord. They looked at the small grey figure standing on his chest.
They were confused. Their hierarchy was based on size and strength. Elian was small. But Elian had summoned lightning. Elian had commanded the earth to throw them. Elian had killed the Alpha.
[ Commander. Psychological opportunity detected. ]
[ They are leaderless. They are terrified. ]
[ Do not show weakness. ]
Elian nodded. He reached up to his collar. He adjusted the gain on his vocal synthesizer to the maximum setting.
He ripped the spear from the corpse. He held it high.
"THE ALPHA IS DEAD."
The voice rolled across the ravine like thunder. It shook the leaves of the iron-trees.
"HE WAS WEAK. HE FED ON YOU. HE LED YOU TO THE SLAUGHTER."
Elian pointed the spear at the army.
"I AM THE ENGINEER. I DO NOT FEED ON YOU. I FORGE YOU."
He turned to the six defenders. Grom was leaning against the landing strut. He was bleeding from a deep cut on his shoulder but he was alive.
"Grom!" Elian bellowed.
The Giant straightened up. He banged his fist against his dented shield.
"IRON," Grom roared.
Elian turned back to the army.
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR JOIN THE PILE."
The silence stretched. The rain hammered against the hull of the ship.
One warrior at the front stepped forward. He looked at the corpse of the Warlord. He looked at the acid burns on his own arms.
He dropped his spear.
Clatter.
It was a domino effect.
One by one the weapons fell. Stone axes.
Obsidian swords. Bone clubs. They dropped into the mud.
The warriors fell to their knees. They exposed their necks. It was the universal sign of submission.
◤ DIPLOMATIC VICTORY ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Hostiles Converted: ~140 Units
⬢ Status: Vassals
⬢ Resource Acquired: Labor Force (Alpha Class)
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Elian let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His knees buckled. He caught himself on the spear.
"A.R.C.," Elian whispered. "Tell me Alara is okay."
[ Scanning Cryo-Hold... ]
[ Vibration levels normalizing. ]
[ Subject Alara Vance is stable. Pod battery at 93%. ]
[ She is sleeping, Commander. She is safe. ]
Elian closed his eyes. The adrenaline crash hit him like a physical blow. The hunger returned.
He looked at the army of giants kneeling in the mud. He didn't see savages. He saw miners. He saw builders. He saw an assembly line.
"Grom," Elian said. His voice returned to normal volume.
The foreman limped over. He looked at Elian with a mix of fear and religious awe.
"Sky-Man wins," Grom grunted.
"We win," Elian corrected. He pointed to the pile of dead bodies blocking the funnel. "Process the dead. Harvest the meat. Harvest the totems."
Grom's eyes widened. "Eat... enemies?"
"The meat is for you," Elian said. He turned toward the ship. "The bones are for me. I have a reactor to feed."
⬡ ─── ⬡ ─── ⬡
⫸ [ TIME: 22:00 LOCAL PLANETARY TIME ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: HORIZON SEEKER – CARGO BAY ]
⫸ [ STATUS: AFTERMATH ]
The cargo bay was a field hospital.
Elian sat on a crate. He had stripped off his chest plate. His thermal skin was cooling down. It turned from a dull red back to matte grey.
He watched the Giants work. They were efficient. They carried the wounded into the shelter of the bay. They piled the weapons in the corner.
A.R.C. projected a holographic schematic of the main reactor of the ship.
[ Commander, we have secured a massive quantity of biological material. ]
[ The Warlord's totem contained a high-density Aether concentration. ]
[ If we refine it we can fully restart the Main Reactor. ]
"And then?" Elian asked. He cleaned his spear with a rag.
[ Then we can activate the Long-Range Sensors. ]
[ We can scan the planet. ]
[ We can find the materials to fix the Warp Drive. ]
Elian nodded. He looked at the blast door of the Secure Cargo Hold.
He had survived the crash. He had survived the hunger. He had survived the war.
But the war had barely started. The flash of the gravity hammer would have been visible for miles. The noise would have been heard by everything in the jungle.
And somewhere in the sky the Federation was scanning for his signature.
"One problem at a time," Elian said. He stood up.
He walked over to the fabricator. It was dark again. The bug batteries were dead.
He placed the shattered remains of the Warlord's totem on the workbench.
"A.R.C.," Elian said. "Analyze the bone structure. I want to know exactly how that creature regenerated its legs."
[ Analysis: Rapid Cellular Mitosis triggered by Psionic Stress. ]
[ It is not just healing. It is adaptive evolution. ]
Elian smiled. It was a cold and tired smile.
"Good," he said. "Because if we are going to fight the Federation... I am going to need to regenerate a lot more than legs."
[END OF CHAPTER 8]