[Sonat]

Sonat joined her brother in their quarters within moments of his “capture” at the hands/appendages of the engineering crew. For once though, she was not humming a tone of privilege. She had been caught by Di'her directly.

How had she been supposed to know that the medical officer would spend an entire rotation on a simple outwalk? Not like it mattered now, they were stuck with the only individual on the ship besides Yitale that could truly hold them in place.

The human had been given strict “suggestion” not to let them leave until Yitale could figure out what the most frustrating ship jobs were available in the next ten rotations, and pass them off to the two captive spawn.

As such, the pale creature sat against the door in a crosslegged fashion: with its arms folded along it's chest. And, as always, it hadn't spoken to them. Both Syzah and Sonat knew it could though. They had both heard it talk to Yitale, and actually speak at length with Di'her when it thought no one was listening.

For some reason though, it didn't ever seem to talk to either Sonat, or Syzah, beyond the occasional simple greeting.

Sonat watched, as her brother Syzah's expression shifted to something familiar. If nothing else, she knew that Syzah had a low tolerance for boredom, and a high curiosity for things he shouldn't know.

So, the human wouldn't talk?

Well... it seemed Syzah was going to try and change that.

“I heard you talking to Di'her a few rotation's ago.” Syzah paused to try for some positioning, perhaps trying to emulate what he'd seen Yitale do when trading. His casual attempt to pretend he knew more than he did was just a pale imitation. “You told her about the planet you came from. She was telling you about ours.”

The human didn't seem to acknowledge that Syzah had spoken, which caused Sonat to let out a quiet, but pleased, song of laughter. She had tried this all before her brother, of course, and had drawn up the conclusion that the human just didn't like to talk. Perhaps it had something to do with how long it hadn't been able to.

Di'her had told them it's throat was injured even before it had come to their ship. Sonat could only imagine how long it had waited in silence, like a crew member in mourning. To the human, a single silent rotation stuck in silence watching them was nothing.

That logic was really based on her ego though, and she knew it.

If the human would talk to Di'her and Yitale, it should talk to them, too. What was the real difference anyways? A couple cycles of difference? Some battle scars? It truly did grate on her nerves that she was so casually ignored by the creature when it wasn't guarding her.

Sonat watched from a detached slouch on the bunk as Syzah tried a different approach. He had broken out his holo-board.

A game buzzed to life on the field as her younger sibling placed it in front of their tight lipped bodyguard, and began to play out before them. The glow from the screen filled the room, as the lights auto adjusted and the graphics buzzed with low hums of a tiny, distant battle.

She could never get used to how the human's eyes would change, from calm and aloof, to fierce and focused. The tiny black dot in the center of each, changing in size as some biological design adjusted on an automated set of muscle memory and instinct.

It's attention was on the board now.

As she watched the human from her perch on the bunk, Syzah made his first move.

Using the tip of his fingers to interact with the holographic display, he signaled his pieces. Tiny ships broke off from the main body on his side, and began to fan out- firing tiny slow moving projectiles at the opposing fleet. The main body began to form a solid wall that staggered as ships began to rearrange themselves.

Heavy blasts rang out from them, tiny little sounds, but heavier in weight when compared to the previous, as the first projectiles made contact with the opposing side. Little flashes of light popped as the ships dissipated. The human leaned in and watched, observing and taking in every tiny detail.

Soon, the game was over, and the board reset. Syzah motioned to the human. “Would you like to try?” Sonat held in her breath as the human met his gaze, and finally it spoke. "The AI in this game is not very good. It is much more fun to play against someone else."

"Hmm..." The human hummed, and Sonat sat up in surprise.

That was more than she'd gotten, despite her best attempts.

"Are you interested?" Syzah pressed, tone clearly excited.

“This is something I have seen before.” The human's teeth were visible now, but it was not quite the same gesture they often got out of him. His lip was curled into something that resembled a predatory grimace. “Many times before.”

Sonat almost choked on her own tongue.

Syzah had done it now, and she hoped with every fiber of her being that he simply backed away and was done with this. Her curiosity was quickly being replaced with a feeling of anxiety. The human still gave her the chills sometimes, and she remembered all too well what it had been capable of when it was angry. From where she sat, the room had suddenly grown much more tense.

Much to her dismay though, Syzah was completely oblivious.

“Fantastic? Then you know the rules?” His song bubbled with excitement, and jumped an octave. “You can begin, I don't mind.”

The human paused as it's hand touched the board.

Slowly, it did begin. With patience, and methodical movements, it initiated the tiny pieces. It seemed to know what the game was, but not how to interact. As Sonat watched on, she tried to understand what it was thinking. It had experience with the game somehow, that quickly became apparent with what it did- or more often attempted to do.

The first game seemed clumsy, and Syzah ruthlessly dominated. His cocky tone barely held from his melody as the board reset.

“This is the only thing Sonat doesn't beat me at.” His tail flicked casually in her direction, as he ignored her irritated stare. “This was our father's game board, he taught me to play. He always said it was a good thing to know.” Syzah paused for a moment, and his tail stopped it's waving to curl around his shoulders in a reserved manner. His song grew soft and reserved. “It's really old you know, an antique. We never had a name for it.”

“If you beat me again...” The human's eyes reflected the board as it motionlessly held it's focus. It's face caught shadows and it's scars seemed to grow dark as it shifted to meet Syzah's gaze with it's own. “I'll tell you what my people called it.”

...

[Rukkali]

Rukkali Bolsorg awoke to find himself trapped by heavy straps holding him to a crude metal seat. How was he alive? How was he ALIVE?

He roared in anger as it hit him. Those loyal troops had betrayed him, those fracking bastards had betrayed him. Insubordination at the highest level.

They had fought tooth and nail to get to the fusion center of his command ship. One by one they had gone down, until it was a single mechanized unit and the two heavily armored Rullah; both of which were down to simple plasma cutters drawn from their faltering personal shields. Four survivors, and only one life pod.

Rukkali Bolsorg had planned to overload the center, to take the ship and everything on it, back to the void. He had even issued the order that the youngest of them take the pod and leave while there was still time.

Obviously the three Rullah had held a different opinion on the matter. Those brave fracking bastards.

And they said he was the one with honor.

He had been knocked out, strapped in, and sent off. First commander Rukkali would live another day, and it felt worse than anything.

The craft he was on rocked with violence as it exited FTL and crashed back into real space, entering an atmosphere within the system. Which one he could only speculate as there were no windows.

The lifepod had probably seen better cycles. Sparks and flashing lights emitted from every possible place, and the monitor cut in and out too quickly to get an real information out of it.

Turbulence rocked, and the monitor cut loose entirely, slamming into the side of the inner hull. The landing probably wasn't going to be eas-

Rukkali's head slammed back, and then whip-lashed forward, only to slam back at a different angle. Vertigo was prevalent as the sensation of rolling took over and the pod crashed through material that apparently wasn't strong enough to slow it in any major fashion.

Finally, it came to a stop.

The atmosphere shielding activated, and the pod doors blasted off away from the ship with an abrupt, automated detonation. For the first time Rukkali was able to see where it was that he had arrived. Through the shield, cool moist air percolated to greet him as he unstrapped himself from the seat to stare out beyond the veil.

What he saw wasn't good.

In a rush of fear, Rukkali reached out and slammed the large red button on the wall of the pod. He prayed it still functioned. The distress beacon was of utmost importance now, because there would be no help for him to find on the surface. Of all the places the lifepod had the potential to throw him, he had to land here?

Void take him, he wouldn't last the night.

...

The pack had circled the strange intruder to their territory for hours in the dim twilight of the day, and many more in the pitch black of night. Still that had not brought out the tender flesh of their prey. It seemed capable of defending itself in ways they were not accustomed to. A long silver claw was it's only apparent offensive option, but it was a formidable one.

Their numbers did not dwindle though, and their dead were simply recycled. There was no waste in the pack, especially not blood. Never did they waste blood.

Cautiously another attempted to reach inside the strange hollow object and retrieve the flesh that lurked within it. It howled in pain as it's limb was smashed from it's torso, but it had many more. To lose one was not a tremendous difference in the greater scheme of things.

The sounds of impatience clicked from the many hungry members as the wounded fell back into the crowd. To lose a limb wasn't normally a death sentence, they could grow back. To shed blood before a feeding frenzy though... that was a different matter. A scream began, and quickly cut off, under the crunching of bone and carapace, and the grinding of mandibles.

The pack hungered.

A lone call rang out, reverberating through the heavy undergrowth in all directions. It was deep, heavy, and unmistakably primal. One by one the pack seemed to still, and listen. This may be their territory, but not all things were bound by their rule, especially not at night.

Another call, closer now, echoed through the alien jungle. The beasts and creatures of flight above grew silent as trees began to shift. Soon, nothing moved at all, but the slow damp pulls of wind as it rustled in the defoliated clearing. Nothing but slow steady thumps. Impacts that began to shake the very trees. The pack remained in wait, perhaps they would be able to continue uninterrupted this evening. Their many eyes and limbs began to stir as they tried to situate where their foe could be though the thick coverage.

The impacts were growing quicker now, and the ground was beginning show the signs, as puddles pooling in the newly grooved soil shook with tiny waves. The treeline began as well, small rustles of fleeing creatures shook the strange branches. The pack started to move, but it was too late- the true predator had arrived.

Tusks ripped through them in a furious charge, and heavy scaled feet tore through everything the previous had missed. The puddles below were stained with blood and innards as it rampaged through them oblivious of the claws and limbs that flailed in desperation to escape. Nothing could penetrate the thick hide of the monster.

Soon all that had remained in the clearing were dead, and the surviving few ran through the jungle in blind panic, scattered among the foliage and their brethren were feasted upon. It was their territory no longer. The primal world held no refuge for the living, such things were not in it's design.

…

Rukkali was trying extremely hard not to move, not to breath, not to think, not to do anything- at all.

He had just witnessed the most terrifying creature in his entire life, destroy the previous holders of that title as though it they were nothing but small pests. Small edible pests: this monster was devouring them in a fashion that made him feel horribly ill, but he looked on in fascination.

The creature was easily as large as the pod he cowered in, and probably weighed twice that. Scales, that were thick and jagged, seemed to grate into one another as the behemoth chomped down and twisted off limbs of it's prey. An odious feast that Rukkali watched until dawn, all the while certain he would be next. He waited, but the creature never turned to him, and in time it simply walked away. It's heavy foot steps stomping off into the distance as it went. Soon the strange sounds of alien life returned to the forest outside of his pod, and it was as though such an event had never even occurred.

So much death and carnage, was simply reduced to thick muddy foot prints and discolored puddles of water. If he had not been there to witness it, Rukkali would never have known the horror that lucked outside of his damaged pod. With great caution, he slowly peered out into the clearing, and took in his surroundings.

Without the pack of primal crustacean-like creatures attempting to rip him from his damaged shelter, it almost seemed beautiful. The plant life was like none he had ever seen before, and the sky above was simply a pale fog that stretched on for eternity. The light that reached him was simply an eternal twilight beneath it, as if the sun had not quite risen, as he finally took the first true steps out onto the surface.

Beneath his armored feet, he felt the mud give way slightly. He had to make a difficult decision now. Assuming the pod had followed propre protocols, Rukkali would be within 15,000 units of an outpost base. Though it probably wouldn't be manned by much of anything but some automated systems, it would have food, shelter, and likely a military weapons. His current life pod offered practically none of these things when put in comparison. Any rations that might have been stored had been destroyed upon landing, and the shelter against the elements wasn't very useful if the life on this planet could simply walk in and kill him.

Quickly he searched the outside of the pod for any undamaged compartments, and finally found the lucky break he had been waiting for. A small locker on the outside had actually survived the reentry, and inside it was a full military gear kit, complete with a light shielding stretch suit. Wasting no time he shed his shambled mess of armor.

His body seemed light and strange without it. A huge weight taken off of him, which matter all the more in the level of gravity he was experiencing. Compared to the force applied on his command ship, the planet had a tremendous amount of pull, and his limbs were already feeling it.

He had always been physically weak when compared to many of the species that had been under his command, and in the pale light of the planet, his thin legs and arms seemed very frail. From some no name species, and orphaned very young, Rukkali had only been able to survive by enlisting. To this day, he had never seen another of his kind to compare with, but he suspected something was physically wrong with him.

His body had always been weak, and only nanobot treatments on a cyclic basis kept him from true deterioration. That had been one of the reasons he had enlisted at first, for the medical treatment. Orphans along the fringes only had one real option anyways, and that was to join the ranks. They took anyone they could get, and it didn't matter who or what you were.

Rukkali had grown up aboard a ship that was constantly engaged in battle. Constantly on the move from planet to planet, purging one system after another. It was only on rare periods of leave that he ever stepped onto soil. Strange as it might sound, he almost felt as though the heavier gravity was good for him, as if he had been craving it.

Donning the armor, it was decided then that he would have to leave while he had the chance. A HUD screen adjusted to his facial layout as he powered up the suit, and began to live feed the available information. Several other pods had landed, but no signs of life pinged him. It appeared Rukkali was on his own.

Mounting the small light-pistols to his hip, he paused, and then picked up the piece of metal he had been using to defend himself prior to that point. It was a crude thing, simply a bar that had broken off from the shelving upon landing. Only two and a half units in length, it was still stained with gore from the long night. One side of it came to a jagged point where the metal had been shattered.

A primitive spear. Truly a fitting weapon for the situation at hand, and probably far more effective than his side arm considering what he had already witnessed on the planets surface. Shouldering the metal rod, he began to make his way toward the nav-point indicated on his HUD screen. Hopefully the base was still in one piece and he could make it out of this mess and get back to the 33rd lines. Void only knew what would happen if they couldn't get that hole plugged in time.