《Space Intrigue》


 The Planet Thez

    Seven new recruits, fresh out of the Oblahomian Empire''s military academies, and a medic were assigned to a remote outpost on the jungle planet of Thez. The official dossier painted a sparse picture: a humid world dominated by dense forests and a single vast ocean. The forests were believed to be ancient by the current team of researchers that were studying the planet. In regards to the trees, and more important to the aims of the Empire, the dense vegetation indicated there were ample resources on the planet for crops to be harvested.


    The Oblahomian Empire, a dwindling force among the intergalactic governments, had recently lost the farming planet L¨¹nenstern V to the conquest of the Association of Simulated Existences. The new leader of the A.S.E., as they were often referred to as via acronym, had a grand vision of transforming their capital into an Ecumenopolis. A nation that had previously existed as a singular, albeit ultra developed, planet now needed to expand outwards to match its ambition. The loss of the entire L¨¹nenstern system had thrown one of the Galaxy''s oldest governments into disarray. The Oblahomian belief in the divinity of their realm was something necessarily upheld by victory. Every loss threw a wrench into the stability of an empire that otherwise enjoyed much tranquility in its lands.


    Facing a crisis, Oblahomian leaders chose action over despair. They called upon their citizens to adapt and reignite the pioneering spirit that had once defined their nation''s rise. However, the facile rhetoric of restoring Oblahoma''s former glory yet needed to confront the arduous path required to achieve victory. An uncertain uphill battle remained for the Empire.


    Within the Empire''s borders, the planet Thez had become a target for development. Though initially a low priority in the capital''s two-month-old reinvigoration project, Thez held the attention of a leading researcher. Based on atmospheric drone readings, he theorized that one of the planet''s native species could produce a potent medicine. Despite the Empire''s greater interest in food resources, the researcher, leveraging his considerable reputation, secured sponsorship for a Thez expedition. As part of the sponsorship, a detachment was to guard the research team and ensure the safety of the minor development planned around the spaceport.


    The recruits were part of the mission, tasked with relieving soldiers due for leave. None had requested leave, but bureaucratic regulations ensured their rights were upheld. Four days aboard a cramped transport had carried them what felt like a vast distance from the Empire''s bustling heart. In reality, even the more direct routes across the galaxy took two years. Four days was comically short in the seriousness of the grand scale of the galaxy.


    The transport shuddered as it landed in one of two hangars at a small, prefabricated spaceport ¨C the only human presence on the planet. The V-23 transport was designed long ago and had served its purpose in carrying a small amount of troops a considerable distance quickly. It was a vehicle rarely used in times of war due to how weak its armor was in comparison to the newer ships. Accordingly, V-23s had earned the nickname of "Leave Carrier" among the warriors often ecstatic to see its arrival.


    Thirty soldiers were assigned in total. The new arrivals were merely there to refresh the ranks. At least, that is why thought until they were briefed by the Colonel. The recruits, still green, were in for a sudden shock about the situation on the planet Thez.


    Any uncertain speculation as how life would be here was soon remedied with certitude by the gruff voice of Colonel Urmanm. "Recruits! You''ve arrived just in time. There is a situation on the planet, if you are not yet aware," he barked. The recruits, like high command, were not yet knowing of any problem. They were all under the impression that their assignment was to be something appropriate for a recruit to get adjusted to military life. The four days of travel and mostly eager anticipation dissolved into a harsh reality. With a mix of nervous excitement and trepidation, the recruits assembled in a line, their military careers were about to begin in earnest.


    Colonel Urmanm, a veteran with weary eyes and a face etched with the lines of command and stress, paced before them. He clarified the situation, "we are in an active combat engagement with indigenous creatures. A cadre of beasts have been routinely attacking our small settlement with extreme effectiveness."


    Colonel Urmann was no fool. He knew even the best recruits wouldn''t entirely trust their commander''s judgment immediately. He felt an explanation was in order, hoping to inspire confidence and thus, more effective fighting. "Textbook tactics call for separating the spaceport from the main defensive line, creating a fallback position," he explained, "but circumstances have overtaken us. We can only manage a perimeter right outside the door. This grim reality, however, is no excuse for disobedience. Trust me to handle the strategy. Your job is to follow orders."


    His pacing wasn''t just for show. He was calculating the best way to deploy his limited forces. Truthfully, the good Colonel should have figured out how he was organize his men long before the shuttle arrived, but he was yet uncertain whether they were to come at all. The message he had sent to high command of extreme distress had yet to be responded too. The tactic his enemy was to employ was almost certainly be an assault designed to overwhelm. The recruits'' inexperience was a liability. He needed a balance of raw numbers and seasoned fighters to have a hope of morale holding. "Medic Volkov," he commanded, "you''re with the first two recruits on the right flank. You will exit through the door only on my signal. A counter-charge might turn the tide." Anya, the only woman among the military personnel, nodded curtly and moved to her position with the two nervous recruits. Her rank of sergeant was a product of the combat she had seen combat in the tail-end of the short war between the Oblahomian Empire and the A.S.E. Colonel Urmann trusted her to not falter in fear when hearing the noises of combat on the other side of the wall.


    "The rest of you," Urmann continued, addressing the remaining five, "you''re on the front line. Check your gear. There''s no time for repairs and there is no time for me to help you get things straight." He rubbed his temples, a rare external display of fatigue. He could only pray their equipment was in good order. "Put your helmets on now to ensure your armor''s cooling units are running at full capacity as soon as possible. I estimate we have about half an hour before the next wave. To your posts, double time now! I wish I could escort you myself, but I need to consult with your pilot."


    The Colonel''s tiredness was palpable. While he demanded obedience, he also felt a deep responsibility for his men''s survival. He cared for his soldiers greatly, some said he was too cautious of a commander. The recruits'' inspired sense of calm was being quickly replaced by a sense of unease as they made their way to the front gate. They all had wondered, but were too scared to ask, whether they heard Urmann right when he said "beasts." The spaceport main entrance, outlined in a pulsating green light, hissed open as they approached, revealing a ramp leading down to the alien world.


    The jungle loomed just forty yards away, a wall of towering trees that blotted out the horizon. Though the spaceport''s immediate perimeter had been cleared, the untamed forest still felt oppressive to the alien visitors. Strange, unidentifiable plants speckled the undergrowth, a seemingly mundane sight compared to the glowing blue vines that snaked across the upper branches of the trees. From the battle line, these vines appeared to crackle with electricity, leaping from tree to tree. Venturing into that wilderness seemed impossible without a dedicated path and a well-constituted plan.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The hastily constructed defensive line, a semi-circle of crumbling sandbags, lay thirty yards from the forest''s edge. Some sandbags were alread gouged with deep claw marks. Scattered before the line were the charred remains of creatures, too badly burned to offer any clear indication of what the attackers really looked like.


    Each recruit took their position behind the sandbags, their energy rifles raised, their senses on high alert. The waiting began.


    Deep within the jungle, a pack of Thezian beasts gathered. These quadrupedal creatures were jet black, save for a fiery red mane that ran down their backs. Their jaws were filled with razor-sharp teeth, perfect for tearing up any living thing that had the nerve to cross the beast''s past. In spite of the planet''s oppressive heat, their thick fur was incongruous. Unbeknownst to the soldiers, the spaceport¡¯s artificial coolness was a beacon for the beasts. Their primitive religion prophesied the coming of a great coolness, a gift from the heavens, and they believed it was theirs alone. This belief coupled with their keen ability to detect heat, or lack thereof, drove their relentless attacks.


    Their leader, King Rawls, was one of the most cunning and ambitious beasts of the species had seen. He was destined to be revered in their history. In the language of the Thezian Beasts Rawls name meant "he who deceives all but his wife." Their language was admittedly simple. The beasts communicated in loud, chilling howls, a mix of tactical discussion and religious fervor. The beasts only needed their language to hunt their pray, and, sparingly, praise a place cool enough to lay down in.


    The soldiers huddled behind their flimsy defenses, and were only capable of interpreting the howls as a prelude to violence. Rawls prepared his forces with a call to reach the promised land. Through the common spiritual ambition, he had united several tribes under his banner. The king was ready to claim the coolness as his gift to his people. A gift that he hoped would propel himself to immortality. The general strategy was simple, overwhelm the enemy with numbers. The prophetic nature of their assignment drove the beasts to become willing martyrs.


    Among the human defenders were two veteran officers: Lieutenant Vanders, a portly man whose experiences were weighing as heavily upon on him as the meat on his bones. Sergeant Mallory was a solider lean and sharp. He had never wanted to be a soldier, but had found himself always reenlisting. Perhaps, in his mind, he owed it to a system that had been good to him. He typically enjoyed meeting new blood, but now was not the occasion to take much joy in anything. Mallory, sensing the recruits¡¯ fear, tried to lighten the mood. "What are your names, soldiers?" he called out over the helmet comms.


    "L.W. Hausteller," one recruit responded.


    "L.W.? Stands for?" Mallory asked.


    "Lawrence Willem," Hausteller replied. Sergeant Mallory knew that the names were both in honor of legendary heroes of the empire. "Welcome to the front line, soldier," Mallory said, his voice laced with dry sarcasm. This place here was neither a front, nor a real line. This was a last stand if there ever was one.


    Vanders cut off the opportunity of the others to provide introduction by pointing towards the forest. "When the howling stops," he said grimly, "the attack will begin soon thereafter. Expect a silence that is only interrupted by the crackling of the trees."


    Hausteller wondered why they weren''t defending the spaceport door from the inside, but was unwilling to speak with being first spoken to. He thought it must be a pitiful way to die if there was no good reason for not holding the bottleneck. The veterans knew the reason why behind Urmann''s tactical decision. Retaking the bottleneck would be equally as difficult for the soldiers to do as the beasts trying to enter. Further, the Colonel held out hope to restore functionality to the spaceports automated turrets. Still, if the beasts breached that line, they would be overrun. Why Colonel Urmanm hadn''t called for reinforcements or sounded the alarm baffled Hausteller, but his discipline kept him from voicing his concerns. Hausteller knew his place was to follow orders.


    Simultaneous to Hausteller''s worried silent analysis of the situation, Urmanm and the pilot were in a desperate race against time. They had a risky plan: cannibalize parts from the transport ship to repair the damaged turrets. The argument had been intense, but the pilot finally relented against his better judgment of dismantling the one way off this planet.


    Twenty minutes passed. The howling ceased and the beasts emerged. What began as a distant gallop emerged into a terrifying sprint as soon as the creatures were confident they could reach their enemies at full speed. The charge froze two recruits in terror. The others opened fire, their energy rifles spitting bolts of light. It would have been quite a pretty sight if only the light display did not end in death. The air quickly filled with the wallows of dying Thezian beasts. The veterans appeared to be acclimated to the sound by now to the recruits, but really they were just unaware that the helmet was able to cancel out designated noises. The sheer number of attackers was overwhelming and quickly the beasts were gaining ground.


    King Rawls had organized his forces into a diamond, aiming to shatter the center of the human line. A hundred massive creatures were still charging, their eyes burning with primal fury. Chaos erupted as the beasts slammed into the sandbags. Vanders¡¯ last order before hell broke loose, ¡°Don¡¯t surrender! They show no mercy!¡± was swallowed by the roar of battle.


    The sandbags offered little resistance ultimately. The beasts, now within striking distance, lashed out with claws and teeth. The first casualty was one of the frozen recruits, caught by a beast jumping over the sandbag. The human line buckled soon after the first casualties. The soldiers were forced to retreat to gain enough room to fire their weapons.


    Rawls sauntered across the plain far behind the battle. He was a king; a planner, and a deceiver. Fighting was generally assumed a task not fit for a Thezian king. From his distant view, King Rawls was sensing that this was, perhaps, the precipice of a victory he had been desiring for the greater part of two weeks. The King, becoming more certain of the outcome, gave a mighty roar for his reserves to engage in the battle. Any soldier''s hope of the beasts thinning in number was dashed by a fresh new wave emerging from the shadows of the forest.


    Hausteller, now among the last eight active human combatants, found himself alongside the officers and a few other veterans, retreating towards the spaceport ramp. The beasts, using the bodies of their fallen comrades as cover, halted their attack momentarily.


    The door illuminated green and once more opened. The counter charge organized by Colonel Urmann was revealed with the two soldiers eager to continue the fight. The medic Volkov beckoned them forward as was hoped for by the Colonel. The momentum lasted but a minute until they too realized that stepping any farther left them open to attack by the beasts. Their initial surge faltered as the futility of the situation set in.


    A beast slashed at Vanders, wounding him in the arm. The standard metallic gray Oblahomian armor had ensured the laceration was not too deep. Still the pain was debilitating and the lieutenant slumped down on the ramp. Hausteller, firing his rifle with one hand, tried to drag the lieutenant towards the door with the other. Mallory pounded the metal exterior of the spaceport, desperate for escape. All seemed lost and there was truly no other option but to retreat into the interior.


    Then, a welcome sound appeared. The previously inoperable turrets were miraculously repaired - whatever issue with their power supply before had been overcome by Colonel Urmann. The turrets accrued as much life as an inorganic killing machine could, unleashing a barrage of laser fire into all of the beasts targetable. The sudden appearance of the turrets, coupled with the devastating energy blasts, sent the remaining beasts into a panicked rout.


    Colonel Urmann opened the door, and the battered survivors stumbled back into the spaceport. They had won, against all odds. For a moment, none of them had truly believed that there was a path to survival. The final accounting tallied ten surviving men who, all of them ready to fight another day.

 The Prophet Mathkar

    King Rawls retreated to his territory after the clear defeat. The sun was rapidly setting behind him as the saunter pressed on. The diminishing amount of light, however, was no threat to identifying the path. The trek remained well lit from the glowing blue vines draped along the treetops. His home was not a long journey from the battlefield. The surviving Thezian warriors followed him, regrouping under his now precarious leadership. The king was at a total loss on what to do next.


    The forest indeed had paths that the creatures could follow. One might not expect roads from the beasts, but they were quite integral to the creatures. The paths had existed since the dawn of the Thezian culture. For a tribal leader to earn respect it was required of him, or her, to maintain these paths. The inability to do so marked their failure as a leader and left to being overthrown.


    There was very little trade that occurred, but the Thezian beasts were a social creature. The only thing ever materially exchanged was art. Still within not so distant memory, survival was their preeminent concern. However, within the past century, their hunting skills had become so refined that the act of living was now almost trivial. Adding significantly to their progress was the development of restraint. Learning to restrict their hunting was now leading to a steadily growing population. Even a decade ago, 200 beasts coordinating anything was an unimaginable thought. The attack on the spaceport was proof of the forward path they were on, even in spite of the defeat.


    The species'' motivations were increasingly becoming driven by a desire for comfort rather than survival. The heat was a perennial detractor from comfort. The heat was mitigated somewhat by the few underground caves scattered around the surface of the planet Thez. These caves, due to their scarcity, were traditionally reserved for royalty. However, as a consequence of defeat, King Rawls was now obliged by his culture to share the luxury with all of those who fought under his banner. The King was still pondering how he would accommodate so many warriors in his royal abode.


    Of the tribes already aware of the appearance of the cold structure,  the belief in its divine status was prevalent. The man-made spaceport''s holiness was deeply reinforced by its symbolic location only a few hundred yards away from the southernmost tip of their expansive road network. The placement happened to align with a pilgrimage that some of the wandering tribes forced their young adult members to undertake. Upon hearing the news of the arrival of the building, many a spiritual advisor were quick to point out the name of the first great Thezian King being the word for "South" in their native tongue.


    The beasts of Thez were always reluctant to stray too far from the ocean. The tribes located on the coast were viewed as possessing a higher status due to how comfortably cool life was there. Accordingly, Rawls would be traditionally viewed as a lesser king.


    The ocean was not just a physical necessity but also held a sacred status in Thezian culture. The beasts'' religion revered the ocean as the primordial source of all coolness. The priests would posit the body of a water to be a vital counterbalance to the otherwise sweltering world they inhabited. It was widely accepted that the rain was drawn directly from the ocean''s vast reserves. The pseudo-scientist who offered proof of the rain''s connection with the ocean made the Thezian culture more willing to accept those who did more than just hunt. Without the ocean, the Thezians believed the relentless heat would eventually lead to their demise and would do nothing that would possibly harm its health.


    Fish teemed in what the Thezians affectionately called the "great pond," an endearing term for the vast ocean. Despite an abundance of food that they once enjoyed, the beasts staunchly refused to hunt aquatic life anymore. The reluctance stemmed from a prophecy made long ago by a revered seer who warned that consuming the fish would cause the rains to cease entirely. The dread of losing this essential source of water was potent enough to halt many immature practices. The threat of no rain became a common parental admonition to keep children in check. The adults would often joke about the threat, but still there was a adamant refusal to eat fish among beasts of all ages.


    The beasts had, centuries ago, organized into tribes that delineated the rough boundaries of what could be considered counties. A lack of conciseness of the border was always an issue that was ultimately rectified by fighting. There was a system to the violence that prevented chaos from ever getting too out of hand. A tribal leader who successfully annexed three counties could proclaim themselves a king. Beneath kings ranked a viscounts at two counties, with tribal chiefs forming the lowest echelon of leadership with one domain under their command. While viscounts generally showed deference to kings, the latter''s influence was limited to force rather than any formal authority. Over millennia, history recorded the rise of great kings and, occasionally, queens. However, the peak of territorial control was held by one beast who managed to rule over 100 out of the total 200 counties.


    King Rawls, with a modest fifteen counties under his belt, was far from joining the ranks of these legends, though he harbored aspirations to one day stand among the greats. The recent alliance to conquer the spaceport had ballooned Rawls'' control to 25 counties.  All pledged to follow him in the conquest. Following the defeat, Rawls was unsure whether those who were just a few days ago so enthusiastic to follow his lead would remain so eager. There were many ten county kings on the planet Thez as things stood. The presence of political rivals only served to add pressure on King Rawls. Truthfully, he had not imagined defeat was possible today.


    The return to King Rawls'' underground keep was carried out mostly in silence. One could occasionally hear the cries of the wounded. However, their pain was often silenced due to the disgrace they felt. Only when it was completely unbearable would a beast let out a whimper. Finally arriving, the wounded went immediately into the cool underground. One or two Thezian beasts had to be pushed into the keep, refusing to be rewarded for the shocking defeat. The creatures who had survived remained above ground. The beasts wondered aimlessly around the camp trying to comprehend the sudden end of the battle.


    The emergence of weapons without organic owners had penetrated the psyche of the beasts deeply. Their intelligence was enough to comprehend that the turrets were not like any foe they had seen before. Still, they were not yet developed enough to grasp who exactly was in charge of the machines. Waiting for King Rawls at the head of the cave was his wife, the queen, and another male beast who he did not recognize.


    "King Rawls," stated the elderly beast with a bow of his head. His fur was a unique sight. It had begun to develop patches of gray. Such an advanced age of a Thezian beast was quite a strange sight to see. This beast, known as the Prophet Mathkar, was easily twice the age of the oldest member of Rawls'' tribe.


    "Greetings, King Rawls, I can see from the faces of your soldiers that you have suffered defeat today," he spoke with a tone of respect, knowing that he was on foreign ground.


    "Indeed, we have. And who are you?" replied the King.


    The elder beast introduced himself as Mathkar, "...a prophet to some. Perhaps, I can be of service to your conquest. I am capable of bringing the power of the gods to your campaign. I assure you that your conquest will serve our species well. I can prevent the interference of other kings in your conquest."


    Rawls had encountered the name Mathkar before. The name of the prophet was often whispered by those discontent with a leader. A very small minority of beasts were more interested in religion than the rule of tribal chiefs.


    When he spoke, Rawls'' voice carried a sharp edge of frustration given that the beast had shown his face only now, "I am well aware of this eastern religion. I¡¯ve heard the tales of their cunning attempts to undermine the tribal chiefs. They think they can sway our people, erode our authority, and bend us to their will with promises and visions that we are more than capable of delivering ourselves. You may have been successful in the East of the great pond, but here I have little patience for you." Rawls paused, his gaze steady yet guarded, as if measuring the stranger before him.


    The prophet Mathkar was unbothered by the initial refusal. He began to clarify his intentions, "I can understand why my sudden presence here might stir your suspicions. We come not to conquer a tribe ¨C and would never attempt to deceive a King like you. Our purpose is pure. We seek only to unify our people under a shared dream of reaching the cool, together."


    Rawls hadn¡¯t risen to his position as king by naively trusting the words of strangers, particularly those bold enough to request a role of influence in his court. He strongly suspected that Mathkar, this so-called prophet, had conned his wife into granting him an audience. Despite his reservations, Rawls decided it was prudent to at least hear the man out, if only to gauge his intentions. Yet, no sooner had he prepared himself to endure the prophet¡¯s lofty wisdom than a commotion interrupted his thoughts. Viscount Mallaw, one of his most outspoken nobles, was striding purposefully toward him, each heavy step ringed of indignation. The viscount¡¯s posture radiated displeasure so fiercely that words seemed almost unnecessary.


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    "How could you possibly have lost this battle?" the viscount demanded the king''s attention, but not answer. His voice was sharp with incredulity. "There were so few enemies¡ªbarely a handful compared to our forces. Do you take us for fools that are blind to your incompetence? Or is it something more sinister. Perhaps, this delay of inevitable victory was a deliberate scheme driven by your ambition to thin our ranks and pave the way for you to seize control of the remaining counties? Regardless of the reason, I have had enough. I¡¯m withdrawing my troops from your command, effective immediately. I¡¯ll conquer the place myself." He delivered his declaration with finality. There was no pause to entertain the possibility of a reply.


    Rawls had long held the view that Viscount Mallaws was a coward. His cunning had long masked it well. Rawls vented his frustration with a booming roar right on top of his hall. Yet, beneath his bluster, the harsh truth remained that his alliance was crumbling. He couldn¡¯t afford to confront the desertion of Mallaw with his own forces in such dire condition. The battered state of his men was the crisis that demanded his more immediate attention.


    Perhaps, in a twist of fate, this turn of events might ultimately serve Rawls¡¯ interests. The viscount had made it abundantly clear that he intended to press the offensive, a decision that could unwittingly benefit the king. If Rawls could rally and reorganize his weary troops, he might seize the opportunity created by the pressure Mallaws was applying to his enemies. As the treacherous viscount stormed out of the encampment, Prophet Mathkar seized the moment to speak again, "I have seen a vision, young king¡ªa path to resolve your troubles. I can not only stop the interference of the Kings to the north, but provide you a plan approved by the cool itself." Exhausted from the day¡¯s turmoil, Rawls replied with a curt nod, his tone weary but firm. "I will hear you in the morning. For now, I need rest."


    <hr>


    The victory, at first, rang hollow in the hearts of the Oblahomian soldiers. This muted response was only natural in the wake of the battle¡¯s end. Exhaustion and contemplation dulled the thrill of triumph. Their Oblahomian upbringing was rooted in a culture that revered peace above all else. Historically, the empire had never been the first to declare war on another political entity, priding itself on restraint. Yet, it would be naive to deny their skill at provocation. Subtly goading rival sovereignties into striking first, only to respond with overwhelming force, was how the empire had once ballooned in size with a population always passionate to defend the homeland. This conflict was yet another instance of the doctrine of aggressive defense. Unbeknownst to them, however, the Oblahomians had stumbled into a fight with a beast capable of organized maneuvers.


    Colonel Urmann, ever decisive, had already issued his orders to the weary troops: relax, take a drink, and rest. He assured them that the automated defenses encircling the spaceport would hold firm for the night. The experienced colonel knew that often after such an arduous fight that good soldiers would fear that they were still needed on the front lines. Despite his knowledge, a much needed respite was being granted for the soldiers, and he needed them to appreciate it. Recuperation was a cornerstone of any strategy the colonel was to employ moving forward. He intended to see his soldiers restored before any further action.


    Every Oblahomian prefabricated spaceport came equipped with what was formally dubbed a "drinking station." This was a purely utilitarian name coined by its designer who was infamous for the practice. Thomas de Vries was a man with a penchant for labeling structures with blunt, functional descriptors. The station''s design was old, but still functional. So old was the design that de Vries had lived 700 years before Hausteller''s arrival on Thez.


    The hallway connecting the front gate to the bar was short in physical distance. It spanned no great empirical length, yet it felt endless to the recruits. The spiritual weight of the battle clung to them heavy. A veteran¡¯s steady stride stood in stark contrast to diminished gait of a recruit, the difference marking them as clearly as any badge of rank.


    The spaceport¡¯s gray metal walls, nearly identical in shade to the soldiers¡¯ armor, lent the interior a cold, utilitarian air. The typical green glow of an Oblahomian door framed the door. As the soldiers shuffled into view, a team of researchers stationed within erupted into joyous applause, their cheers were full of praise. Colonel Urmann, stepping forward, was the first to voice his praise aloud. "Take off your helmets, men," he declared, his tone still firm. "There¡¯ll be no more orders today. Your bravery was nothing short of commendable. I would give you a medal if I could. Don¡¯t for a moment think it was technology alone that won this fight¡ªit was your spirit that held the line!"


    From behind the bar, each soldier received a drink¡ªbeer from a renowned distillery on the capital planet, its familiar label a comforting sight amid uncertainty of their surroundings. The clinking of glasses had scarcely begun when Colonel Urmann raised his voice again, cutting through the budding camaraderie with a somber note. "We¡¯ll tend to the fallen in due time," he said in a moment of dourness. "For now, this drink is to their memory!"''


    With that, the colonel excused himself from the drinking station, mentioning unspecified business that required his attention. In his absence, a party took shape within the bar. The soldiers were craving social interaction.


    The initial loudness of the introductions would gradually settle into a murmur. The soldiers and the researchers began to intermingle. . Hausteller, a young recruit still unaccustomed to the weight of battle, sat perched on a stool near the edge of the bar, his helmet resting on the counter beside his half-empty glass. The beer¡¯s bitterness was unfamiliar. He was not from the capital and was only a citizen of the empire through his parents. He eventually looked down to see his armor, scuffed from the day¡¯s clash. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight had long since ebbed away. It seemed forever ago since the time he picked himself up from the ground on the battlefield after falling over in retreat. He was staring into the amber liquid, lost in thought, when a shadow fell across his reflection.


    ¡°Hausteller, right?¡± spoke a measured voice. He looked up to see a figure standing before him. The easily thirty year old woman was clad in the sleek, slate-gray attire of the research team. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, and her eyes carried an intensity that seemed to pierce through the dim lighting. She extended a hand, more a formality than any gesture of warmth. ¡°I¡¯m Dr. Kiel, head of the research contingent here.¡±


    Hausteller straightened instinctively, setting his glass down with a soft clink. ¡°Uh, yes, ma¡¯am, Recruit Hausteller of the 31st Pioneer Division,¡± he replied, his voice betraying a flicker of unease. He had never spoken with a person of rank. ¡°Is there something I can do for you?¡±


    Dr. Kiel didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping to conspiracy. ¡°I need your help, Hausteller. There¡¯s something out there in the forest that I need, it is the very reason that this mission began. There was some mention of farming being the reason for this planet to be researched. This is a cover of sorts. There is an electric vine that I believe might be the key to unlocking great scientific progress. I¡¯ve spent the past months lobbying the empire to fund this mission just to get my hands on one, and now that we¡¯re here, I can¡¯t let it slip away.¡±


    He blinked, caught off guard by the objective. ¡°A vine? I don¡¯t understand what it could possibly offer to science.¡±


    She straightened, folding her arms nervously as she was about to reveal a theory she had yet to test, ¡°It¡¯s not just a vine. I believe it is the key to activating nanomachine medicines. If I¡¯m right, the vine¡¯s electric properties could fuel nano-machines with enough energy to function and not harm the body.¡±


    The other soldiers were too absorbed in their drinks or conversations to notice the mission being assigned to Hausteller. ¡°I do not mean to be rude, but I¡¯m just a recruit. Shouldn¡¯t you be asking Colonel Urmann for a soldier to go on the mission?¡±


    ¡°Urmann is a fool. I do not trust him. Do you trust him? I fear I am only motivated to ask you because I can trust you. Your abilities are something I can only infer from your survival. I also know you are not the traitor that has sabotaged us.¡± she said plainly.


    Hausteller had figured something was slightly off given that no one had alerted high-command of the situation, but for her to put forth the accusation of treason so bluntly was a shock. The recruit was growing to admire her demeanor, especially in favor of the strange Colonel Urmann.


    ¡°I do not know if you have figured this, but there is a traitor in our midst. There must be some internal subterfuge that has prevented our reinforcement. This is why I refer to Urmann as a fool. His priority has been maintaining the exterior defense when he should have been attempting to locate the source of the interference. His repair of the defenses only showed to be a better mechanic than leader." Dr. Kiel knew she had perhaps gone too far with her open insubordination. She gave a quick nod to this in asking Hausteller to not repeat any of her criticisms.


    She continued after taking an audible breathe. "But to me, the whole traitor business is neither here nor there at the present. I do not think those beasts are capable of overcoming the bases'' automatic defenses. I also think the Colonel will not dare to venture out of the spaceport. I just need one of those vines. I need my theory to be proven before the reinforcements arrive."


    Hausteller opened his mouth to ask how she knew reinforcements would be on on the way, but Dr. Kiel¡¯s urgency cut through his attempt to question. ¡°Listen, Hausteller,¡± she said sharply, ¡°this is a priority we must resolve by tomorrow. The ship that dropped you recruits off? When it fails to return on schedule, they will send reinforcements. Once those reinforcements flood in, this place could be abandoned. I might be taken away from the planet and never have a chance to return, if the cost of fighting the beasts is deemed to outweigh the value of an unproven world. I can not take that risk. We have two days to procure a vine for research. I will give myself six days to construct a report and then we can say that we have accomplished something here." Hausteller¡¯s mind quickly pondered what was being asked of him. The massive jungle forest outside the spaceport was certainly home to the beasts he had fought today. He knew that the Colonel would definitely not approve any mission that further risked the danger of his men. He thought of the fallen comrades honored just moments ago. Maybe this was a chance to make their deaths mean something more than just casualties in a skirmish.


    ¡°What exactly do you need me to do?¡± Hausteller asked.


    Dr. Kiel¡¯s lips curved into a smile. She was close to being granted her request from the young soldier. ¡°Tomorrow, at 5:00, meet me by the gate. Bring your full gear. We¡¯ll slip out, find a vine at the nearest tree, and get back before anyone notices."


    Hausteller hesitated to affirm, but eventually relented.


    ¡°Good,¡± she said, stepping away from the table to return to her scientific comrades. ¡°Get some rest tonight. You¡¯ll need it. You look tired.¡± With that, she left. leaving Hausteller alone once more with his drink.


    The recruit did not loiter about any longer than he needed to, and went off to his quarters. The other soldiers had taken to a drinking game and were still quite noisy by the time he left. Hausteller was a bit too worried about partaking given his new assignment. He would eventually need to find the time to sociable with his new brethren in arms, but that would have to wait for another time.

 The Trees

    Dr. Kiel lingered by the front gate, her foot tapping restlessly at 4:50. She had told Hausteller to meet at 5:00, expecting they¡¯d be through the door precisely on the hour. Their planned departure time remained intact, but tension creased her forehead. She wondered if he¡¯d still show. Her sharp words to Colonel Urmann earlier, delivered in front of a fresh recruit, echoed in her mind. It hadn¡¯t been a shrewd move, politically speaking, and she felt the weight of that misstep now.


    The mission she¡¯d outlined to Hausteller the day before carried no exaggeration in its gravity. She hadn¡¯t revealed one crucial detail: how vital the research on Thez was to her career. Studying nano-machines had consumed her life since her early breakthrough in the field. Years ago, she had developed an enhanced energy projection system, one that absorbed many energy bolts. Unlike older Oblahomian designs tethered to bulky power generators, her innovation ran on a simple portable battery. This compact energy source formed a protective wall, portable enough to shift as needed. Generals had seized on its potential, redrawing battle lines with swift precision. Yet a decade after her initial discovery, pioneer divisions still used sandbags. They saw no need for her tech in their underfunded operations.


    Hausteller emerged from the hallway, and slight relief washed over Dr. Kiel. She leaned toward him, her voice a hushed burst of gratitude for his arrival. He met her enthusiasm with a quiet adjustment to their plan. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about our mission,¡± he said. ¡°We should slip out the side. Those beasts are likely watching the front gate for any sign of us.¡± His words carried a calm certainty, redirecting her focus to the task ahead.


    Dr. Kiel used the improvisation as a means to feed the recruits ego slightly, "You have made a wise change indeed. I think you may have a future ahead of you." Even though the man had shown up, she still was in fear of him abandoning the covert mission. Feigning admiration was a tool she believed could help her accomplish the objective.


    Hausteller replied to the compliment, "I indeed have a future ahead of me. I do not know whether good or bad, but I can be certain that I plan to be alive." When speaking these words, Hausteller once again deliberated whether going on this mission was the proper course of action. Proper to him was escaping the situation intact. He had not reluctantly joined the military, but still was not the kind of person willing to take unnecessary risk. Her flattery begged him to consider if he was doing the smart thing here, or just what was brave.


    The two now made their way to the side exit. It was initially locked, but the doctor was able to override the security code. Hausteller was not aware of any override protocol. This prompted him to ask if a traitor might be able to do the same. Dr. Kiel was quite adamant that only her and the colonel would be able to alter the security system ¨C that was at least when away from the colonel''s office. There the controls are available to all that can distract the colonel enough.


    Now outside, it was raining lightly. Gray clouds appeared overhead. There was little light shining down upon the pair ¨C only enough to know that it was indeed morning and not night. The system''s sun should have been visible by now, but it still was quite obfuscated. The darkness was forboding, but they had come this far and could not afford any delay. Dr. Kiel knew that their exit from the base would be discovered around 8 a.m., when the daily briefing was supposed to occur for the soldiers. She feared they would not have the freedom to attempt such a mission again if discovered by Colonel Urmann.


    They set off at a steady jog toward the first tree in sight. The forests powerful silhouette rose just beyond the spaceport¡¯s cleared perimeter. Th bare ground that stretched between them and the forest¡¯s edge offered little cover as their boots tread the dirt. It took only two minutes to reach the tree¡¯s base, where visible roots sprawled into the barren muddy soil. The dense canopy of the jungle loomed behind it. The wall of shadowed green swallowed what little daylight was being offered. Dr. Kiel stopped abruptly, her breath steadying as she turned to Hausteller. ¡°I need to scan the tree,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯ll confirm the sample¡¯s viability. One minute, that¡¯s all.¡± She pulled her electro-pad from her pack, its sleek surface catching the faint light filtering through the branches. With a tap, she launched the program. A glowing progress bar flickered to life, projecting outward in a soft blue arc. It hovered in the air, visible to both the scientist and the soldier, ticking upward as the device hummed softly. Hausteller shifted his weight, his rifle resting loosely in his grip, eyes scanning the forest¡¯s fringe. The open ground they¡¯d crossed left them exposed, and the rustling leaves ahead stirred his unease, hinting at the unseen presence of the Thezian beasts.


    While Hausteller kept his eyes sharp, his other senses were being received more kindly. The forest pulsed with noise today, far livelier than the stillness he¡¯d encountered the day before. Leaves rustled overhead, and distant hoots and screeches layered the air. The thick tangle of branches and vines hid the creatures responsible, but their presence was unmistakable. He couldn¡¯t spot a single animal, a fact that worried him greatly. The clamor suggested more than a few lurked nearby. A sudden gust of wind tore through, strong enough to sway the trees slightly. Their trunks creaked as they moved, the blue vines released energy with each gentle push. Hausteller tightened his grip on his rifle, the uneven ground beneath his boots shifting slightly with the breeze. In the direction from which they came, the bare expanse near the spaceport lay silent. He wondered if the Thezian beasts stirred within.


    The air felt cooler today, a sharp departure from yesterday¡¯s stifling heat. Rain had fallen earlier, leaving the soil damp and the leaves glistening with stray droplets. The temperature drop brought relief, but the gusts that followed bordered on excessive. They whipped through the forest, rattling the undergrowth and sending a chill across his skin. Hausteller found the noise beautiful in a way Hausteller glanced at the sky, partially obscured by the towering trees, and noted the clouds drifting swiftly overhead. He pondered how often this weather struck Thez. The spaceport¡¯s metal ramp, visible in the distance through a gap in the foliage, gleamed faintly under the overcast light, a reminder of their tether to safety. Interrupting the practical assessment of safety, the wind came again and he felt a sense of euphoric glee.


    Hausteller refused to let his focus drift too far from his objective. He grounded himself by studying the fauna beneath his boots. The previous day, he had only caught glimpses of orange mingling with the green undergrowth. Now, with a closer view, he picked out faint traces of purple and blue woven into the ferns. These hues stood apart from the vines draped across the highest tree branches. The blue in the plants here was more faded, lacking the vivid energetic glow of the vines. He shifted his stance, the damp soil yielding slightly, and kept his rifle steady as the forest¡¯s chorus hummed around him.


    The analysis was finished with a positive result, instantly prompting Dr. Kiel to order the soldier to climb up the tree and cut the vine off. Hausteller made like a bandit up the tree. He did not even stop to question why they had no flying probe capable of fulfilling the task. Hausteller simply trusted the doctor to be thinking everything through. In truth, she had forgotten the probe. It was a mistake she was severely admonishing herself for. The only other viable option was to shoot a branch off. However, that idea only broached her mind by the time Hausteller had reached the halfway point. She was not willing to risk the noise of communication at this point.


    Climbing the tree tugged Hausteller back to his childhood on Earth. For a brief second, he heard his friend Patrik yelling from below. ¡°Lawrence, get down and play fair,¡± Patrik would say. ¡°Climbing breaks the rules.¡± He caught Hausteller only twice in twenty tries. Each failure he shrugged off, blaming a lack of effort. Regardless of his poor ability, Patrik always chose the predator role in their games. Eventually, Patrik stopped coming over. Hausteller¡¯s hand tightened on the bark when remembering he was no longer growing up and that he could possibly die here.


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    The armor he wore crushed the memory fast. No moment from his youth carried this burden. Back then almost everything felt weightless, a stark contrast with the heavy plates weighed on his arms and legs. Climbing became a slow, taxing chore. On level ground, the suit¡¯s mechanics eased his steps and balance. Here, they did nothing for lifting his body. Metal scraped the tree with a faint clink. The vines above swayed in the breeze, their blue glow strong in the absence of strong light. His boyhood climbs had been light and quick, not like this.


    Recalling those childhood days failed to ultimately lighten the strain. He considered a word with Dr. Kiel below. The idea faded fast. Noise traveled too well in this place. Even though the forest buzzed with life, Hausteller knew the Thezian beasts lurked out there somewhere near. Their unseen eyes felt closer than when he had begun his climb,. He pulled himself up another branch. His muscles ached. The mission pressed harder than any urge to talk.


    The recruit had climbed about 35 feet up the tree. With just a few more efforts, he could reach the lowest vine. Suddenly, the forest fell silent. No sounds crossed the air except for a light wind. Hausteller felt a growing unease, a heavy certainty that the Thezian beasts were about to disrupt their time in the forest. Dr. Kiel sensed it too. She pulled out her pistol, her face showing immense fear.


    Hausteller hesitated for but a moment. His hand hovered near the vine then grabbed it and tugged. A faint electric shock jolted him, but he shrugged it off. He plucked the blue growth and tucked it into the storage container on his back before starting his descent. Halfway down, he noticed a rustle in the foliage. The circumstance changed and he broke his quiet. Hausteller shouted at Dr. Kiel to shoot at the hidden threat. She fired as ordered, though her shot veered far off target. Her hands trembled more violently now. Hausteller hit the ground with a heavy thud as the brakes on his descent was abandoned. The rough slide down the tree left bruises on his skin, injuries that would need attention later.


    Two Thezian beasts emerged from the undergrowth ¨C their fur was as black as death. Hausteller yanked his rifle from his shoulder in one swift motion. These creatures were smaller than the hulking monsters he¡¯d faced on the front line the day before. Their size resembled the jaguars on Earth more than the lions he saw yesterday. They darted and weaved among the fauna, evading his shots with uncanny agility. He fired again, the blasts echoing through the trees. Yet, the beasts stayed far ahead of the bolts each time. He grabbed Dr. Kiel¡¯s arm and pulled her along, determined to reach the spaceport¡¯s side door with her still alive. The doctor stumbled behind him. Her balance had gone awry as the creatures shadowed their retreat. Hausteller could not afford to be afraid and kept on trying to keep distance between him and the creatures, even if he was unable to hit a single shot.


    The darkness had cloaked the approach of a third beast, its padded feet silent against the bare, ground. Dr. Kiel was looking the opposite direction of Hausteller, who was firmly affixed to tracking their announced attackers. Her deep blue eyes caught the surprise in time. She spotted the creature as it crouched low to jump at Hausteller¡¯s unprotected back. Her voice pierced the ether with a sharp yell, urging the recruit to turn around. Hausteller reacted instantly, swinging his rifle and squeezing the trigger before his brain fully registered the threat. The shot rang out with luck guiding his aim. The energy bolt tore through the beast¡¯s chest, halting its leap mid-air. It crashed to the ground mere feet from them. The beast''s fierce look was forever locked into its face as death was instantaneous. Its frame now thrown across the barren dirt was just another object to step over. Hausteller was now exhaling heavily. His boots scuffing the soil as he steadied himself upon crossing the corpse. The spaceport¡¯s ramp loomed just ahead. The side door was only a dozen yards away. Dr. Kiel gripped his arm, her shaking hands urging him toward safety.


    Hausteller assessed their position. They had moved far enough from the forest¡¯s edge that the beasts no longer had dense enough cover to mask their approach with evasive movements. The sparse bushes and bare ground left the creatures with one clear option: a coordinated assault. He doubted their odds of survival against such a move. The memory of the beasts¡¯ charging speed from the previous day lingered in his mind. Without consulting Dr. Kiel, he settled on a risky plan. She would serve as a distraction to disrupt their timing. He shoved her forward, her stumble drawing the attention of one beast. It broke from its companion and lunged toward her exposed position, acting alone without any sign of coordination. The attack split as Hausteller had hoped. He aimed his rifle and fired, dropping the beast charging Dr. Kiel with a single shot through its side. It crumpled mid-stride, lifeless, two feet away from the terrified doctor. He pivoted swiftly, sighting the second beast now closing in on him, its pace slightly slower upon seeing his comrade dead. His next shot caught it in the shoulder. It hit the ground with a thud. Hausteller ran to Dr. Kiel and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. Together, they sprinted across the open ground toward the spaceport¡¯s ramp. Their footsteps were quite loud on the metal incline as they reached the side door, slipping inside. The mission had succeeded.


    The two crossed through the now open door, all of their energy seemingly exerted. If there was not a crowd in wait, Dr. Kiel would have demanded explanation for Hausteller''s shove. They faced five soldiers standing alongside Colonel Urmann. The soldiers waited and stared in silence. Their expressions were mostly unreadable, but the Colonel¡¯s face betrayed stark confusion. His brow furrowed deeply as he brushed past Hausteller and Dr. Kiel, moving to secure the door via the lock pad. The group stood in tense stillness, each man likely piecing together the chaotic scene that had just spilled into the spaceport. Only a few moments ago they were prepared to take on a rescue mission. Dr. Kiel broke the quiet first. She straightened her posture, catching her breath, and spoke with a calmness that was absent outside. ¡°I can explain everything. I ordered him on this mission, and we¡¯ve secured what we came for. I¡¯ll deliver the research sample to the team. We can start work at once.¡± Her words hung in the air, as she grabbed the container holding the blue growth from Hausteller''s pack. She was in no mood to talk with the Colonel and simply just walked away. Hausteller was not so lucky and was ordered by Urmann to follow him to his office.


    The office sat on the far side of the spaceport, just off the hangar housing the grounded V-23 transport. This room felt more personal than any other in the building. Trinkets lined the shelves. Paintings hung on the walls. Colonel Urmann¡¯s metal desk bore a layer of green felt. A brass nameplate read ¡°Rex Urmann¡± in bold letters. An interactive star map glowed faintly in the corner. Two chairs faced the desk¡¯s guest side. Urmann gestured for Hausteller to sit.


    ¡°Hausteller, right?¡±


    Hausteller nodded. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± he said.


    ¡°Your comrades barely recalled your name when I asked who was missing. Sgt. Mallory pulled it out, though. You left a mark on your officers yesterday. Still, talk more with your peers. They¡¯re more likely to watch your back when trouble hits. That holds true even as an officer.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°Want a drink?¡±


    Hausteller shook his head. ¡°No, sir,¡± he said. He knew little of military rules yet, but drinking on duty seemed unwise. Lieutenant Vanders expected him to report for duty at 8:00. Even with this being more than an hour away, alcohol now felt like a poor decision to him."


    Colonel Urmann poured himself a glass anyway. ¡°Dr. Kiel may hold the rank of  science commander here,¡± he said. ¡°But she can¡¯t just call a mission. That¡¯s my responsibility. I¡¯m not mad at you. I agreed with her yesterday it had to happen. She wouldn¡¯t wait for reinforcements to arrive, though. She gambled your life, and hers, for her career. Remember that, soldier." Urmann paused before changing the mood, "You said you killed three beasts alone on the walk over here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Hausteller replied. A nervous laugh escaped him.


    ¡°You¡¯re like me as a young soldier. I ignored rules when I saw a better path. Our backgrounds differ, though. I grew up in a respected military family.¡±


    Urmann downed his shot. He poured another, making it all but clear that he was about to expose his life story to a soldier who had not asked.


    ¡°I loved the early days as a soldier. A renegade captain with a name people respected. They welcomed me then whenever I appeared on the battlefield. Get too high, and no one¡¯s glad you¡¯re around. My mistake was saving a general on L¨¹nenberg V. That got me promoted to colonel. Privateers targeted the staff. I had raided their base, discovered their plans, and raced to cut them off. Our forces drove them back somehow. I even defused their backup bomb in the command tent personally. Bravery landed me the 8th Infantry Division. My command there didn¡¯t end well. The war was lost regardless. They sent me here. Went from 3,000 men to 10 now here. A colonel just runs a division. Sometimes I¡¯d rather they demote me.¡±


    He finished his second drink. ¡°Sorry your punishment for Dr. Kiel¡¯s stunt is hearing me ramble. Are you hurt?¡±


    Hausteller had only shed his helmet. ¡°I might be bruised,¡± he said.


    Urmann nodded. ¡°See a medical droid. Report to Lieutenant Vanders once you¡¯re cleared.¡±


    Hausteller stepped outside. Sgt. Mallory stood waiting, presumably to talk with the Colonel.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the medical droid?¡± Hausteller asked. The sergeant replied, ¡°usual spot, clinic.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take you there myself.¡± He seemed eager to tag along. Whatever he¡¯d meant to discuss with Urmann fell away from relevance.

 The Sea

    King Rawls stood at the cave¡¯s mouth. Sleep had eluded him the night before. Thoughts of the battle were still clinging to him heavily. He turned fitfully on the ground, unable to settle well for a long time. His wife lay there next to him worried at the state of her husband. For the first time, she was seeing the stress of leadership take effect King Rawls.


    A human may have been slightly annoyed at the glow of the blue vines overhead, but a Thezian beast was more than acquainted with the constant illumination. The slight hum the vines even made for distinct comfort. It would be difficult for any beast to imagine a world without the pulsing blue at night.


    The source of Rawls'' anguish was purely mental. The disturbance was caused instead by his constant worry that the battle was lost due to his own failings. His soldiers had fought with his plan in mind. Rawls thought that no one else could be blamed for the loss besides him. He had made the choices and now he had to live with the consequences. He chose to forgo his typical strategy of deceit for a more direct approach.  The decision was now haunting his thoughts. Before the battle, his idea was now is the time to step out of the shadows. All of his political success before was something he thought possible to replicate far into the future ¨C but, the glory of the charge was something the Thezian beasts would remember fondly when retelling how the sacred cool was conquered. In his mind, the gods of the planet should be pleased with his direct approach. Rawls thought their appeasement ought guarantee victory. This lack of results made him very reticent to trust the words of Mathkar ¨C a prophet who he heard evoked the gods as the determiners of results.


    His wife tried to offer solace to Rawls in his restlessness, but her words failed to accomplish anything. The weight upon Rawls was too large to be pushed aside by the love of his wife, for he feared for her safety should anything happen to him. Her care had ironically only served to drive him to further discomfort.


    Thezian tradition held that a queen¡¯s role leaned toward governance. Usually, a queen was responsible for facilitating the mating for the entire tribe ¨C sometimes her duties included medicine, but this was a role diminishing in popularity for centuries now. Many mates in beast''s culture were not romantically motivated. However, Queen Wallader was an exception and cared deeply for her husband, even despite the marriage being arranged. She had never met Rawls before the ceremony and only knew him through the recommendation of her mother. He was a tribal chief that her late father had become quite fond of. With her father''s insistence, the word of a respected warrior, Wallader''s mother negotiated the marriage with Rawls. The union helped to make the now-king a more respected figure, compensating for his family''s earned reputation of being dishonorable. This doubt of his dubiousness was something that allowed Rawls to meet with a weaker king named Dulthac. A few months of swindling later and the five counties that once belonged to the sovereign were now under the rule of Rawls. Dulthac was not someone who could be left around to claim his territory back and Rawls had him summarily killed.


    Rawls, as his name claimed, did wield deceit with ease against all but his wife. He took his name to be practical instruction from his father on how to behave in the world. His family was a cohort of swashbucklers for as long as their family history went back. To Wallader, he was always willing to show his true self. He considered it a great honor to be chosen to marry her. His family line was not as distinguished as the other candidates vying for her betrothal. His life''s mission was motivated by the trust Wallader''s father had given him.


    Wallader used all her energy the night after the battle to convince Rawls to sleep some. Despite all of the encouragement, he did not accept her claim when she stated that the failure to achieve victory was not his fault.


    Morning broke over the jungle, and the brief attempt at rest concluded. King Rawls had no room for delay in chasing their goal. The coolness of the spaceport still was calling. Even from such a distance away, Rawls could sense the presence of the building. Every Thezian beast certainly had that same feeling. The cool was a beacon that took a very strong will to look away from.


    The king descended into his underground keep, its cave walls were slick with moisture from the rain. His first task was to check on his warriors¡¯ health. The cave stretched narrow until a flatter open area was revealed. The air was thick with the scent of sweaty fur. The beast''s blood was purple, but the color could hardly be seen on the cave floor with absence of light. The lack of illumination was no issue for the predatory beasts, at least in matter of seeing that their was a thick liquid spattered on the floor. Their eyes held the capability to see well in the pitch black, although the occasion rarely happened where they needed such an ability. The electric vines usually kept the whole world alight, even in the dead of night. The warriors had recovered more than he had dared to hope the night before. While a few soldiers remained incapacitated, many of his soldiers were ready to make war again. Mumbles could be heard among the soldiers of their desire for revenge.


    As Rawls passed and assessed what remained of his army, each beast rose from the cool rocky floor. They offered salutation  with low polite howls. All were honestly eager to see their king once more. A young warrior started to speak to the king, "I am sorry my lord for our failure yesterday." Rawls had no response. He did not wish to appear weak by blaming himself, but also did not want the warrior to feel at fault. The best solution, he thought, was to ignore the remark.


    Rawls completed his rounds among the wounded. Once content with his assessment he climbed out of the cave¡¯s coolness, stepping into the faint light filtering through the gray clouds. The weather was cool, occasional drops of rain were being felt by the beasts outside of the cave. He sought his commanders and allies. The search for news after the defeat was frantic. Rawls was worried he had missed something during the time he was attempting to sleep.


    The prophet Mathkar approached first as Rawls emerged from the shallow depth. The elderly beast dipped his gray-patched head to motion a bow. Behind him came Raltham, a senior warrior. His muscly body emerged quickly from some ferns on the edge of camp. Raltham was a trusted figure who had fought by Rawls¡¯ side since the very beginning of his ascension. The king¡¯s gaze slid past Mathkar, more eager to hear from his commander. Raltham¡¯s voice was something welcome to hear indeed. King Rawls was fearful of asking the question the night before of whether his most loyal soldier had survived. The prophet¡¯s words could wait until after he spoke with Raltham. The warrior stepped closer, his claws visibly sharper than the prophet who stood next to him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got news from the scouts tracking Viscount Mallaw¡¯s troops,¡± Raltham relayed. Rawls was confused as he had ordered no one to follow Mallaw. Before he could question Raltham, the warrior clarified the situation,  ¡°I ordered them to follow his contingent after you began your rest. They¡¯ve kept a steady watch. Just now, three of Mallaw''s warriors clashed with a soldier and some other figure of the same species ¨C maybe a woman. The Thezian beast''s physiology did not differentiate much between the two sexes ¨C women were slightly smaller and their mane was slightly less red. The beasts, however, recognized the differences between sexes, as their prey varied sharply in form depending on whether it was male or female.


    "The second one wore strange garb, not like the combatants we have seen. Mallaw¡¯s forces lost the fight and were met with death,¡± finished Raltham. Rawls¡¯ jaw tightened to not express any emotion. He pictured the viscount¡¯s forces being eager to attack, but stumbling into the occupiers of the building so immediately was still an unexpected surprise. The death of Mallaw¡¯s men was something that Rawls was ecstatic about. Despite being reticent to show the extent of his emotion, he was still furious with the betrayal. The more he processed the words of his faithful commander the more joyous the king became. Rawls shook his head to hide the positive emotion he was now feeling. His mind was already turning to the next move.


    Rawls raised his head while pondering his exact words. ¡°Gather,¡± he called. His voice rumbled deep, cutting through the low conversation inhabiting the camp ¨C mostly concerned with the call of the cool. ¡°I have words to share. Viscount Mallaw fights the invaders who hold the cool. The cool remains our objective. I will not forget it. His choice to leave our ranks displeases me. Yet I won¡¯t hinder his attack. He pursues the same end as we do. For now, we need to plan well given that the pressure is still on our alien enemy¡± The speech was over and the party began to disperse. His gaze swept over the gathered beasts, their black fur blending with the shadows of the ferns well. Rawls began to ponder what possessed him to have shadowy hunters charge down a forced with no cover. Despite his perceived failure, the other viscounts and tribal chiefs were eased by his words that no civil war was coming. They dreaded a split. Infighting would benefit nobody in their minds. Still, they would be bound by honor to follow Rawls to the end. A clash among their own that might diminish their ability to seize the spaceport. The coolness of that human den still beckoned. Rawls knew that Mallaw¡¯s boldness could serve them yet, even if it galled him to admit it. He let the silence settle, before turning back to the prophet to finally talk.


    Rawls faced Mathkar. ¡°Prophet,¡± Rawls began, his tone sharp, ¡°what can you give me? Forgive my bluntness, but your courtesy in waiting doesn¡¯t change my desire to know your plan. I am aware you carry some scheme. I too am knowing that you will claim the gods whispered this course of action to you.¡± He paused to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He resumed after deeming the noise of all the other beasts sufficient in covering their conversation. ¡°I am no devout creature. I speak a prayer before my meals, but I have no wish to bow to any priest¡¯s rule or rule in the name of a religion.¡± His eyes narrowed, emploring Mathkar to get on with the conversation.


    Mathkar understood the King¡¯s pragmatism in his dealings. He tailored his reply to what he believed to be most effective given the circumstance. Religious motivation was only touched upon briefly. ¡°The gods urge you to ally with the most powerful king of the coast,¡± he said. ¡°King Melsar awaits your visit later today. I¡¯ve arranged the meeting.¡± His voice remained calm despite the great risk that was being taken..


    Rawls was shocked at the admission, ¡°You¡¯ve planned for a king without his knowledge?¡± he asked. ¡°That¡¯s a daring move. For a beast your age, your recklessness borders on absurdity.¡± He found the thought of an old beast acting so foolishly to be amusing. A deep laugh rumbled from Rawls'' chest.


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    Mathkar stood firm, unfazed by the possible consequences for his deceit. ¡°King Rawls, I¡¯d struggle to sway a beast as pragmatic as you to my gods without proof,¡± he replied. ¡°Attend that meeting with your army behind you and I promise an alliance with Melsar¡¯s fifteen counties will be your reward. If I¡¯m wrong, banish me from the sacred cool forever. You shall never see me again.¡± The gambit was laid bare, an intriguing result for Rawls. This alliance could be what was needed to save face from the disaster the day before. His current organization was a tentative union in the mind of the king, but the addition of Melsar would help to shore things up in Rawls'' opinion.


    Rawls summoned his forces. His voice was now a resonant bellow. He strode before the cave¡¯s maw. The cool exhalation of the air hidden from the sun was a cool balm against the now returning heat with the rain''s absence. ¡°March with me once more,¡± he commanded, "this time north to the domain of Melsar." They gathered swiftly, a line of jet-black fur and glinting claws, their numbers a testament to Rawls'' sway. There was little question in the crowd why they would march away from their objective.  If any doubt lingered that Rawls had lost his alliance¡¯s favor, the evident loyalty of his soldiers to his latest command should have dispelled that notion. A total of 90 Thezian beasts formed their marching column and were prepared to follow Rawls'' northward.


    Queen Wallader joined Rawls leading his men before he left the territory. She walked alongside him to strike up a final conversation before the journey north. The queen was to stay behind to care for the wounded that still resided within the keep. When approaching the king, her worry was outwardly visible, "Do you think it is right to leave the wounded here unprotected? I fear Viscount Mallaw might attempt to attack us here if he gets word of you heading north."


    "My dear wife, I do not think he would attempt such a misguided maneuver. If he were to move away from the coolness, I think his few remaining subjects would be quite upset. He knows I will come for him if he dare to attack my keep while I am away."


    "Still, I do not feel right about staying here without guard. You may hunt him down, and I know you would avenge me, but I would miss you terribly so" she replied.


    "Stay strong, we are close to eternal glory. Mathkar might be a blessing to our situation. The gods may have rescued us, not spiritually, but in a political sense." The queen gave a rub across Rawls'' shoulder. She then left the march and returned to the keep to perform her duty as caregiver.


    Rawls led his troop toward Melsar¡¯s territory. To a human, the jungle might seem uniform. The beasts, however, were able to differentiate and identify every area with ease. They had hunted these same lands for countless generations. Tales of notable events were spread and eventually almost everything under the sweltering sun had been described.


    As the column continued their march, Mathkar trailed somewhere in the column. For someone who had schemed this meeting, he was not ready to take credit for tis completion. Still, Rawls could hear his voice occasionally, it was always a low murmur speaking of the cool¡¯s sacred nature. The coastal cave lay two days off at a brisk pace. Their food, a meager stash of meat, wouldn¡¯t last the trip. They¡¯d need to halt one night to hunt. The delay in their expedition was something the king was quite comfortable with. Rawls figured six days away from his keep might give Mallaw enough time to wear his own forces thin.


    The march followed the well-kept paths. If not for a cleared road underfoot, the coolness of the ocean would have eventually led the army down the right path. Rawls imagined this march being talked about in the future. An unlikely partnership organized by a strange prophet was to yield the force that conquered a holy land.


    In the Thezian beast''s culture, no pact bore weight without a display of strength. An alliance needed more than words; Thezians demanded the visceral proof of might. Rawls knew this well. His gait was resolute as he marched closer to the edge of Melsar''s realm.


    Rawls did not trust Mathkar, but a break of his promise could easily prove as a worthy justification for a war against his tribe in the east. However, should the alliance come to fruition, Rawls would be able to conquer the sacred cool and cement his name among legends. The young king knew that the only way for him to fail now was in his own hands.


    The march halted as Rawls¡¯ column reached the boundary of Melsar¡¯s domain. Scouts emerged from the sides of the trail to meet them. It appeared as if the warriors were expected guests. The scouts'' fur blended well with the shadows of the coming night. The beasts¡¯ ability to sense heat had tipped Melsar off to the exact time of arrival a day ago. The warmth was overwhelming, a welcome sign to Melsar, who eagerly anticipated the cementation of an alliance.


    Melsar was not surprised by Mathkar delivering Rawls as promised. The coastal king worshipped the gods devoutly. His days revolved around worshipping the cool, only sometimes paying attention to his kingdom. Often, Melsar would perch on beach, gazing at the water¡¯s motion. The breeze would sweep over him, cool and steady, brushing his grizzled mane. Older than Rawls by decades, Melsar had watched countless young leaders build themselves up only to crumble. He relied on Mathkar to fetch him an ally with backbone, not some frail pretender.


    Rawls trailed the scouts toward Melsar¡¯s position, his army being told to wait near Melsar''s keep. The air grew sharper as it became increasingly laced with salt. The trees of the jungle had stopped growing only a few yards away. The coastal king loomed ahead, standing solid on the sand with his rib cage visible. Despite his skinniness, his frame was unbent despite his years, or at least that was what was proclaimed from his pose. Despite such strength in posture, King Melsar was skinny for a Thezian beast. Melsar¡¯s vision of Rawls matched what he predicted: a younger beast carrying himself with a quiet dignity. Melsar felt the approaching King''s intensity. The older king stayed still, studying him, his mane continuing to ripple on the windy beach. Few beasts ever earned the privilege of walking on the beach.


    Rawls closed the gap between him and the pondering Melsar. His claws were touching sand for the first time. ¡°I¡¯ve come to join you in seizing the cool from the alien forces,¡± he stated after finally comfortably grasping the ground underneath.The ocean¡¯s waves pounded the beach, a low roar rolling up the shore. Rawls stood square before Melsar, his intent plain. He had no room for games or hidden plans. Taking the spaceport was all that drove him at the current moment. What came next didn¡¯t concern his mind. Dodging the issue was not some political ploy to the southern king. Rawls just wanted the glory of victory and not necessarily the spoils. He kept his eyes on the older sovereign, waiting for a response.


    Rawls banked on Melsar¡¯s faith to seal their pact. The coastal king¡¯s devotion to the gods ran apparently deep. Rawls figured that zeal alone could bind them, no elaborate promises were required. If Melsar asked for complete control of the spaceport, Rawls would agree without a moment''s hesitation. He stood steady, waiting for Melsar¡¯s reply.


    Melsar broke his silence at last. ¡°The gods call me to stand with you. I can hear their words being spoken out there in the ocean¡± he said with hints of craziness. His voice continued with all due zealousness, ¡°I¡¯ve weighed my decision long enough. Mathkar asked me for this alliance with you awhile ago. He¡¯s been at my side since my earliest days. I consider him a friend, though his counsel often serves my ends well regardless.¡±


    Rawls was glad that Mathkar had told him the truth, but his curiosity was piqued. ¡°How long have you known him?¡± he asked.


    Melsar¡¯s gaze drifted briefly to the sea. ¡°Since I first led a tribe,¡± he began his reply. ¡°Thirty wars I¡¯ve fought against rival clans in my time. I handle things through power. I¡¯ve heard tales of your cunning, how you outmaneuvered King Dulthac to strip him of his lands. I prefer taking what¡¯s mine with raw strength, but results are indeed results.¡± He paused, clearly not wishing to divulge anything more about Mathkar. ¡°Now, these invaders in the cool land. How strong are they?¡±


    Rawls stepped closer, his fur was cooling down significantly. The novelty of this amount of cool served only as momentary interruption to his thoughts. ¡°At first, we took them for behaving like our typical prey. Their blood was very warm,¡± he answered. ¡°Once they were alerted to our presence, they would not go far beyond their walls. It, however, seemed only a matter of time before we could enter the holy building. Things changed during our last attack. Something lifeless struck us down ¨C weapons with no soul behind them. It was a soldier inorganic. They cut through my ranks with such terrifying ease. My warriors broke and ran at the sight. Facing them head-on might not work.¡±


    Melsar nodded, his mane caught the beach''s wind ¨C a feeling that gave him great relief from the terrifying heat of midday. ¡°Let¡¯s plan, new friend,¡± he suggested. Rawls agreed to begin strategizing, but had very few ideas to put forth. ¡°Can we draw them out of their stronghold?¡± Melsar asked.


    Rawls responded, ¡°They ventured out often in the beginning. It seemed as if they were interested in finding something. Their curiosity stopped once we showed ourselves. We are proud of the fear the aliens had right before their death. It might have backfired as they no longer show their faces."


    Rawls continued to explain the incident with Mallaw''s warriors three days before, "A few days back, just before we started this march, two aliens left the building. There was no clear objective mentioned to me by my scouts. They returned fast to the cool quickly ¨C within moments, but not before slaying three warriors of a rebellious viscount.¡±


    "Two aliens were able to slay three warriors?" Melsar was taken aback. No single creature on the planet Thez had been able to slay a beast in a millenia. Tales of ancient monsters were rare among the Thezians by now, but the stories persisted in some more remote counties. "They are armed with weapons ¨C nothing like you have seen before King Melsar.  They do not kill with their claws ¨C they have none. They use some sort of energy to instantly kill our brethren. They point their weapon at us and we just die."


    "I see, young ruler. Mathkar told me that the creatures defending the building were fierce, but such strength and unwillingness to venture out poses a unique challenge. That being said, everything worthwhile requires sacrifice."


    Melsar scratched at the sand with a claw. ¡°I need more time to think our approach over,¡± he said. He looked up, his eyes steady on Rawls. ¡°Let me feed your warriors tonight. I too must think on a solution. Join us for a meal. We¡¯ll make it a feast, then afterwards we shall depart.¡±


    Rawls acknowledged the request and started walking to where he thought Raltham was to update him on the plans. He didn¡¯t get why Melsar placed so much emphasis on a feast. The older king¡¯s frame was lean, almost bony, his black fur clinging tight to a body that didn¡¯t look like it savored much. Rawls glanced at the coastal camp ahead, where the beasts from both camps were already gathered. The scent of meat drifted over as Rawls told his force that they would be dining here tonight.


    ¡°Do not eat too much,¡± Rawls said, now within earshot of all of the soldiers here gathered. ¡°We march tonight to the sacred land. Our alliance is now set. We stand 200 strong now. A hundred fresh warriors, ready to claim what¡¯s ours.¡± Melsar was now walking behind Rawls, his thin frame cutting quite meager to his fellow king. Then he let out a roar, sharp and booming. Rawls hadn¡¯t expected such volume from someone so slight. Melsar''s sound rolled over the camp, and the entire force joined in. Their howls rose toward the sun as it was slowly dipping below the horizon, its last light glinting off the ocean¡¯s surface.


    The feast passed in a blur. The warriors tore into the meal without delay, their claws ripping through the fresh meat piled on broad leaves ¨C a tradition customary for the beasts living on the coast. Melsar¡¯s hunters had brought down a big animal that morning, its flesh still warm and tender from the kill ¨C perfectly timed for the army''s arrival. The scent of blood from the meat permeated the air. Each beast who had arrived with Rawls ate exceptionally fast, jaws snapping, filling their bellies after days of lean rations. The meat held just enough for all, no one left scraping for scraps. The food was fuel, nothing more, and everyone knew the march back to war loomed close. Around the camp, there was an overall eagerness to get back to fighting.


    As the column reformed with the addition of Melsar''s warriors, a scout came sprinting on the trail. The speed at which he ran was extremely fast, as if prey was only a few feet away. The scout ran right to King Rawls, "I bring news. Viscount Mallaw has attacked the keep, slaughtered the wounded warriors, and the women too. Us scouts escaped, but I do not think there are any other survivors." Rawls roared loud, knowing the implication was that his wife was dead. If he were not at the head of the formation, the king would have cried. Rawls raised his front paw and slashed the scout across the face in rage, blood now dripping down the face of the scout. The scout remained still, attempting to accept the wound with dignity.