It had been a long time since Winters had felt that thrill, the anticipation of combat. It had disgusted him at first. His body and mind would respond well; almost too well. His blood would thrum and his thoughts would clear. His lungs filled themselves to capacity, expanding his chest with satisfying oxygen and pressure. Heat had scorched his armor as his rifle kicked into his shoulder, a wonderful kick that reminded him constantly of the power he could wield. He barely remembered the actual fighting on that volcanic world. All he knew when it was all over was the dim red lights of the drop bay, shaking from adrenaline withdrawal, latent fear, and the thrill of victory. Before long Jess had found him, soothing him with voice and touch. At her insistence he’d seen the ship’s doctor and recounted his experience. ‘Battle trance’ was the phrase the physician had come back with, something akin to the berserkers of Nordic and other lore, where certain humans came alive in the fires of combat, performing at peaks beyond their own ability. Jess had stayed with him; assured him that she would be there to anchor him, ground him. He’d never lost himself in the battles after that. It wasn’t enough to fight and die victorious. It was imperative to return alive, and he had. But now Jess was gone.

Winters felt the pounding of his boots on the packed earth, rushing towards the now closing gates. The reactive fibers of his under-suit flexed and strained with the activity, propelling him forward at speeds beyond that of a normal human. He would feel it later, but for now it was the difference between getting through that gate and being locked out; powerless to help Veera, whom he could no longer see amongst the now panicking crowd. A thrill surged through him as the archers above the gates realized what he already knew. He was going to make it. They couldn’t stop him. The two Cauthan knocked and released arrows at him. One missed, flying past his right shoulder. The second was easily deflected by Winters’ shield. He was close now, close enough to see the fear in the eyes of the remaining guards who had formed a small wall of spears in front of him. They were shaking, but under the gaze of their captain the held. They were brave. Winters gave them that. C’mon you bastard. Winters stared right at the captain, who to his credit, stared right back at Winters with an appraising look. You must realize why I’m doing this. Don’t make your men die on this hill. He willed the Cauthan to understand. This wasn’t an invasion, it was a rescue mission.

Just as Winters was about to burst through the gates, the captain barked out orders to his men who immediately raised their spear tips, moving to form a semi-circle and provisionally allow him access. Slowing to a trot, Winters paused as he entered the village, allowing himself to regain some composure. His presence was imposing. In his armor he was a good four inches taller than even the guard captain, who seemed to be the tallest Cauthan around. The remaining townspeople had either fled into the streets or proceeded with the group that had taken Veera, leaving Winters, the guards, and a few curious onlookers poking their heads out of windows or around corners. Winters noticed a sensor reading on his HUD. Fine, let them try. Shortly thereafter an arrow ricocheted harmlessly off his back plating. Winters didn’t move, allowing the point to sink in. The guard captain gave the offending archer a stern look. I’m not some French chevalier at Agincourt you bastard. Winters scoffed, it was time to make them understand exactly what they were dealing with.

With deliberate, unhurried steps Winters approached the guard captain, drawing close to emphasize the differential in height and bulk. He was rather imposing for a Cauthan, with a strong looking body covered in leather and more metal than his soldiers. Where his armor didn’t reach Winters could see black fur and scales. Like Winters he bore a sword and shield. Winters wasted no time, pointing over the guard’s shoulder with his shield hand and speaking his goal, “Veera”. If the guard was surprised he chose not to show it. Instead he signaled to his men, who formed two columns on either side of Winters and the captain. To the uninitiated it would have looked like an honor guard, though it was really anything but. Acknowledging the sign of de-escalation, Winters replaced his sword on his back. No Cauthan moved to disarm him. With another barked order the guard began walking forward. Winters kept pace. “Io, I want you devoting every spare processor to constructing a translation program. You can even shut down the proximity sensors. If their projectiles can’t do anything I suspect hand to hand will be no better.”

‘That is an insane risk sir, though it seems to be a day for insane risks. Have you not noticed you just invaded an alien village, on a whim, because of one scrawny girl?’

“Yes. Single handedly I might add. Get to work Io, now.” Winters snapped, leaving no room for rebuke. He understood Io’s concern, but he was more than committed at this point. There was nothing to do now but press forward, and he would not entertain doubts in the middle of a potential combat situation. With the crisis temporarily abated, he took the time to observe his surroundings. The roads of the village were also dirt, though there did seem to be a system of drainage channels dug along various larger avenues. The houses and architecture reminded him of an odd cross between a medieval European village and a Native American settlement. Buildings were universally made of wood, some with thatched roofs, some with soil or bark coverings. From the looks of it, Winters figured he was walking down the main thoroughfare. In the distance he could see another gate, marking the opposite end of the village. The buildings to his right appeared more industrial in nature, devoted to crafts or cottage industry. They were better made and seemed to double as residences. A couple even had stone chimneys or second floors. To his left were more modest one story dwellings. He didn’t see any glass. The houses either had no windows or possessed openings covered with thick furs or leather. Through such openings he spied many a curious face. He admired the young ones and their bravery. A few even tried to run out at him, only to be snatched up by a scolding parent. The majority of the Cauthan simply watched from a distance, following behind the group as they passed. Whatever was about to happen, it seemed no one wanted to miss it. Let’s hope curiosity doesn’t kill the cat today. Winters thought, hoping he’d be able to leave without ending anyone.

A short while later they came upon a large circular cleaning in the middle of the village, clearly the town square. Yelling orders again, the guard captain ensured the crowd of chattering Cauthan parted. Winters took quick note of the buildings to his right. They appeared to be temples or shrines now, devoted to worship. Symbols and idols were carved into the façades, and a few sported metal ornaments, something he’d not seen yet. At the top of the circle was the main one, he reasoned. It looked almost like a miniature, wooden Aztec pyramid. It was certainly the grandest building he’d seen so far, if any of them could truly be considered grand. The stout Cauthan Winters had seen prior was descending the exterior steps of that building, an ornamented staff gripped in his hand. With a sweeping gesture at the gathered crowd he began what sounded like a proclamation, pointing to the large wooden pole in the center of the square. Winters followed his gesture. “Veera!” Winters yelled, seeing the young Cauthan being bound, hands behind her back, by one of the ceremonial looking guards. The preachy Cauthan, who had apparently just now noticed the intrusion, turned to Winters and the guard captain with angry eyes. Immediately he began yelling and ranting, pointing alternately at Winters, Veera, the sky and the ground. “Io, I need that translation program yesterday.” Winters pleaded. All around him was a fierce din of chatter as the gathered townspeople tried to make sense of the spectacle unfolding before them.

With an unknown gesture that likely mean ‘stay put’, the guard captain left Winters’ side and approached the one with the staff. The two began arguing almost immediately, the guard with stoic posture, the other waving and gesticulating wildly. Soon a couple other Cauthan had come forward from the crowd and joined the conversation, much to the fat one’s displeasure. The normal guards had fanned out to form a protective circle between the civilians and the action inside the ring. There weren’t nearly enough, but it was the appropriate gesture as far as Winters was concerned. He’d shown no overt signs of hostility yet. If Io could manage to get the program working, perhaps he could reason with the captain. With all the commotion going on around him, he was sure she had enough sample data. Everywhere he could see feathers fluttering and shaking in communication, adding to the feeling that he’d just stepped into an arena. “Io, status!” Winters demanded. The ceremonial guards had begun moving at orders from their superior, one pushing Veera roughly to her knees. The other walked up the stairs and disappeared into the temple. Winters could see Veera physically struggling against her bonds. She was tall, but frail. She was no match for either the rope or her captor.

‘Sir, I estimate 40% completion and-’

“Whatever you have get it running now!” Winters yelled. “We don’t have time and I don’t need to know how to ask them home for tea!”

‘Yes sir, activating translation protocols now.’

Winters was immediately floored. What had been a constant of unintelligible noise before suddenly became a roar of scattered words and phrases. Heretic. Mutt. Madness. Gods. Avatar. Guard. Priest. Punishment. Unjust. Veera. White Devil. Invader. Kill. Then there were words that went without translation, seemingly with purpose. Uthos. Kel. Seil. Vash. Antoth. There was a whole lot that went untranslated. “Damnit.” Winters growled. “Io, can you make any sense of this? Maybe some clues from the feathers?” He didn’t think he could stand still much longer, but to act without knowledge of the situation was to invite disaster.

‘Sir, from what I’ve gathered, there is quite the debate raging amongst the general populace and the more important Cauthan before us.’

“About what?”

‘The nature of your divinity, sir.’ Io replied with great contempt.

“What?!”

‘Yes. The short fat one yelling at everyone, he is the high priest and apparent leader of the village. Goes by the name of Vash. These Cauthan are polytheistic. He serves Seil, their sun god and primary deity. He has apparently connected you with the sky rock that fell to the surface, as he calls it. Not only does he believe you are an agent of Kel, the god of death and darkness; therefore the antithesis of light, but he believes Veera has sheltered you and hidden you. In leading you here she has committed blasphemy.’

“So he’s not stupid, just crazy. The others?” Winters asked with great impatience.

‘The guard captain is actually a priest as well. Apparently he serves Uthos, the sentinel. I believe the connection is more than obvious. His name is Antoth. He is trying to explain the incident at the gate, that you only forced entry out of concern for Veera. Vash did not witness this and is accusing Antoth of providing aid and allowing entry to the avatar of death. Quite the show really. The older Cauthan in black robes is the priest of Kel. Priest might be a stretch but perhaps he oversees funerals and the like. In any case, Vash is demanding that he explain you. He is obviously failing. Oh dear. Sir, you may wish to intervene now. Your scrawny girl might be in some danger.’ Io sounded almost anticipatory.

Winters noticed the second ceremonial guard was descending the steps. Now that he looked closer, the ornamentation on their armor certainly evoked the star of the system. Winters cursed, making sure to conceal his voice. He wanted to preserve the advantage of his partial understanding of Cauthan language for now. Io had continued work in the background and he was catching full sentences. The robed Cauthan, the priest of Kel, had just finished trying to explain that nothing in his texts or oral histories described Winters. Vash didn’t seem to like the answer and chose to address the crowd instead, stepping forward and pointing his staff directly at Winters.

“Truly a master of deceit and death has come before us! Behold its unnatural form all hard and jagged! It descended in anger and fire from on high to our world! For a time, we were safe. Seil, in his wisdom, kept us protected; kept this being away from us! Now this urchin, this mutt, has led him to us!” He spat in Veera’s direction. “Not only that, our guard has failed us! Without struggle or contest they allowed this being entry. So now it falls to me and to the champions of Seil to defend us.”

“It doesn’t strike you as odd that this ‘aspect of death’ has yet to inflict death upon anyone?” Antoth replied as sarcastically as he could manage. A small rumbling in the crowd seemed to agree with him.

“Silence!” Vash screamed. “Seil’s will shall be done! The blasphemer shall be purged of her sin and those blessed by the sun shall vanquish the invader; after its accomplice has been turned from its service and back to the light, of course. Now!” Vash stepped aside and a great wave of sound erupted from the crowd around him. Some chanted justice, others for mercy. A few even yelled what he assumed were expletives, though he wasn’t sure. The reason for the uproar was clear though. The other sun guard was walking towards the pole where Veera remained captive. In his hands was a long flail of leather straps. Every few inches along the bands were sharp metal spurs. They were long enough to pierce and cause extraordinary pain, but not long enough to kill…at least not quickly. Veera began crying, straining harder against her bonds. “I’m sorry! He’s not, please listen to me! I didn’t mean to!” Her pleas fell on deaf hears. The word “mutt” emanated from various points in the crowd again. Antoth and the other Cauthan stood back, apparently unable or unwilling to push the matter further.

“Oh no. Oh hell no!” Any calm Winters had felt at his reasonable treatment from the town’s guard was immediately shattered. The adrenaline was back, the rush of blood, the tinge of red in his vision. Turning his helmet’s audio projection back on, Winters decided he was done being a bystander. Turning off the outgoing translation, Winters yelled at the sun guards. “Hey! Shitheads!” They turned to look at him. “Exactly, at least you know who you are! Why don’t you stop picking on the girl and tangle with the aspect of death! Let’s see how your sun god stacks up!” He was just venting at this point, knew it was empty words they wouldn’t understand, but it was accomplishing his goals. He hadn’t gone on a murderous rampage and they’d not yet committed the barbarism that would see him burn their temple to the ground if it was the last thing he did. He closed the distance at a measured pace, putting on a bit of a display for the crowd with his strut. Winning the audience was at least as important as winning the inevitable brawl. He heard Antoth shout orders to his men not to engage, they weren’t warriors of light after all. Winters turned his armored head at the guard. Antoth had removed his helmet behind Vash’s back and raised his short black and white head plumage at Winters. Whatever was meant by the act, Antoth clearly wanted no part in getting his men killed for no reason. Good commander that one. Winters thought. Perhaps we can talk later.

Returning his focus to the approaching ceremonial guards, Winters sized them up. The one still clearly intended to use the flail in battle, along with a long dagger drawn from a belt at his side. The other wielded a long polearm with three metal tips at the end, like a small trident of sorts. If they pierced, they would leave internal wreckage on their way out of a body. The sun god was apparently fond of torture. While that one circled behind Winters, the one with the flail remained to his front. Winters heard himself growling, returning his shield to his back. It would give him some added protection, in addition to freeing up his hands. He would need them for what was to come. “Let’s do this.” He challenged, pointing a finger at the guard in front of him. The guard seemed to have been incensed by Winters’ apparent disarmament and yelled at his fellow. The phrase didn’t come through clearly but Winters knew what was coming. His ploy had worked. He hadn’t just challenged the sun guards, he’d insulted them. Now they only had one option, to embarrass him.

First mistake. Winters thought as his sensors indicated the guard to his back rushing him. He chuckled softly as his opponent brought the handle of his polearm across his chest, pinning him. He turned his head so a single ‘eye’ faced the assailant. “You wanted me? Well, you got me.” Winters taunted, bringing his left foot to his center, sliding it back and out to the side again. In the same motion he let himself fall backward, forcing the Cathan to support his entire armored weight. Reacting naturally, the guard backed up, right into Winters’ waiting foot. “Gotcha.” Winters smiled as the guard tripped and fell backward with a cry, one that was strangled out of him as the entire weight of an armored HEL jumper landed on his chest. “Believe me when I say you’re the most comfortable landing I’ve ever had.” The guard wheezed in response. Quickly righting himself, Winters brought a single knee down on the Cauthan’s sternum. Two right hooks from his gauntleted fist laid the sun guard out cold. Without ceremony Winters stood to face the other.

Shocked into a state of temporary immobility by the sight of his partner so easily bested, the other guard shook it off and charged. With considerable speed he lashed out with the dagger, occasionally bringing the flail to bear when he thought he’d scored a hit or opened up Winters’ guard. Winters grudgingly acknowledged the Cauthan knew how to fight. Were he unarmored he certainly wouldn’t have survived too long without a weapon. Given the situation though, he was more than happy to allow the guard to have his shot. Let the people see just how impotent Vash and his cronies were against him. The metal weapons rang out against his combat armor. The yelling of the crowd, which had died down somewhat after he dispatched the first guard, had come roaring back. With their attention secured, Winters stepped back with his right foot, sidestepping a thrust and grabbing his opponents arm. A quick twisting of the wrist into an unnatural position had the dagger in the dirt. Circling around and pinning arm to back, Winters drove his foot into the back of the Cauthan’s knee, forcing him to the ground much as he’d done to Veera a short while ago. Resisting the urge to kill the fool, as it would only enforce Vash’s characterization of him as a servant of Kel, Winters delivered a powerful blow to the base of the Cauthan’s skull, leaving him in an unconscious heap next to his partner. He raised his arms to the crowd, blood from the first guard’s face staining his hand. “Are you not entertained?!” He yelled into the stunned silence.