CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The same day Joey head back to the camp with his escort. After explaining the situation to the camp, they breathed a sigh of relief that a peaceful resolution could be found, though they still had contingencies in place in case the other side decided to break the contract.
Immediately that day Joey rested up in his home in the camp, was prepared a big meal by Tololon, and began his honoi class with Lezura behind their home on the slope.
“What we need to do is try to increase your honoi output, Joey,” Lezura said, sitting on a rock. “So basically four the next five days you will be doing purely honoi exercise.”
Joey, sitting on the ground before her in leather shorts a yellow shirt, said, “It’s about time we got to the good stuff—eat the icing and leave the cake!”
“Actually,” said Heliri floating around their heads on her Sugarstick, eating a bunch of hespi berries, “the cake is the best part! The icing kinda reminds me of frothy sperm…”
“Anyway…” Lezura said, “Joey, you will have to push the limit of the amount of honoi you use, and we will be learning a new technique called the Novunongen, or Scattershot. Now, I myself do not know how to do it, so I will have to be going by the instructions from my data-scroll.”
“Okay,” Joey said, getting up.
Lezura opened the scroll and read the instructions beneath the diagram. “It says here that the Novunongen is basically firing multiple Bluebursts at once in a compact form, like a shotgun. The user has to have at least six separate streams of honoi channeled into his arm, which must be held steady by the other hand.” Lezura looked up from the scroll and said, “Go on, try it.”
Heliri lowered to the ground and found a seat a few meters away to watch. Flivi perched on her shoulder and nibbled at a bug on her head.
Joey held his right arm behind the wrist and pumped his honoi into it. It felt like his blood was flowing backwards painfully. He had to feel that vein of honoi in his arm, channel another one beside, and another—
And the result was the unstable honoi popping out of his hand and sending him flying back. The force knocked off a chunk of the stone Lezura has been sitting on.
Joey shrieked on his back, clutching his bleeding hand. When Lezura and Heliri hurried over they found that the flesh in Joey’s palm was shredded. Lezura quickly held his hand and healed it with her honoi. She couldn’t blame Joey for this, she was the one that forgot to tell him not to put too much at once, and do it slowly.
Joey hissed, saying, “This shit’s goanna take long…isn’t it…?”
“I am afraid so,” Lezura said. “Perhaps we should try a different technique.”
For the next five days Lezura and Joey were constantly at it, from 6 in the morning to eight in the evening, taking half hour breaks in between and large meals. Lezura too, was trying to push her honoi abilities has well, but tried to spend most of her time teaching Joey. Heliri would help when she could, taking over for Lezura and directing Joey from the data-scroll. She wasn’t as drilling as Lezura, but she got the job done nonetheless.
When Joey’s hand had recovered fully after Lezura’s healing the previous day, she had started Joey with a technique known as the Gunkshot.
“How this technique works,” Lezura had said, “is by mixing honoi with the user’s saliva or mucus. A bit disgusting, I must say….”
“But still cool though,” said Joey.
Lezura said from the scroll, “Honoi is gathered in the mouth along with saliva, compressed and mixed with it, and spat out is a sticky substance that immobilizes the user’s target. It was first invented by rapturans.”
Joey first attempt at the Gunkshot was spitting out a wad at blue saliva at the stone-based target. After several attempts the wad of glowing blue saliva moved up to blob, but it was still mostly water based, and left a bitter taste in Joey’s mouth that made him vomit more than once.
Within two days, Joey went from firing five Bluebursts and three Bluebolts that would usually snap in his honoi fatigue, to eight bursts and four bolts. When it came to executing the Gunkshot, Joey not only found it was very difficult, but also dehydrated him to some extent.
Lezura explained that it was much more difficult than firing regular honoi because the Gunkshot involved mixing other elements into it.
On the third day Joey could release ten Bluebursts and eight Bluebolts. Still the Gunkshot was imperfect.
When Joey checked the diagram in the data-scroll for a demonstration, the demonstrator, a dracoid woman, made a snorting sound like she was sucking mucus down her throat, and spat out not a blob, but a steady stream of glowing blue fluid at the feet of a yautgan helping with the demonstration.
The alien tried in vain to break free from the fluid that had quickly taken on a rubbery quality. Only the assistants nearby could free his feet with fire and cutting into the matter.
After watching the diagram, Joey got a better idea of how to strengthen his Gunkshot. After further attempts it was getting sticky like mucus, but far from the finesse of the true technique.
On the fifth day, Joey stood in front of a line of rocks put up on a sunken wall by Heliri, some yards to the back of the camp. Both his hands were scarred like burns from the many failures and healings during his exertion of the Bluebolt, and even now they still throbbed from the harsh ordeal yesterday.
Forget the pain, Joey, he thought, ‘cause if you screw this up a whole lot more people will be in pain!
Like two mothers watching their son at the soccer game, Lezura and Heliri stood behind Joey, anticipating either failure or success. If Joey could destroy that wall with only three hits of any of his honoi attacks, then sufficient strength has been developed behind them, but that was only the first test.
“Go!” Lezura said.
Joey started off with a Bluebolt. The attack plowed into the wall and sent dust and chips spewing out like bomb. But even with a fist sized hole in the wall it still stood; but cracks were scattered across it. Joey fired one more Bluebolt to the far end, popping another hole and spreading another web of cracks. Finally Joey raised both hands, hooked them together between the thumbs and index fingers and connected the honoi in both hands. The result was a massive burst in the center of the cracks.
The wall was obliterated out the back, leaving the rest in a weak frame that collapsed on itself.
“Hat’taa!” Heliri said.
Joey breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to grin, but he knew he wasn’t finished yet.
Lezura simple said, “We are moving onto the survival test.”
The test was simple to understand; all Joey had to do was last a full minute firing everything in his arsenal without succumbing to honoi fatigue. His target was anything but Heliri, Lezura or where the people were living. Lezura gave the go, counting away in her mind as Joey unleashed hell on a mountain of rubble. For a whole minute debris plumed into the air around them, creating a thin shade beneath the dying sunlight. When it was over and the dust settled, all that was left were stones in a mound of dust.
Lezura exhaled and dropped in the dirt on her butt. She rested her head on her arm as Heliri and Joey hugged each other and leaped around, both singing songs native to their own planet.
“Please let it work,” Lezura whispered, “I want to live to see my daughter. Please let tomorrow end in peace…”
She felt the weight of Joey and Heliri bring her to the ground in their embrace.
“I can do it, Lezura!” Joey said. “I can full that machine up! I just know it!” he rolled off her and lay on his back, breathing heavily. He thought; I’m goanna stop a war! I’m goanna bring peace for these people! I’m not goanna fail!
The next day they marched back to Ussia Town. This time at the gate, the wyassies, being the only lead nycarmans amongst Joey’s group, were allowed to enter with the community with Joey and Lezura.
Without hesitation they were marched up the warehouse, but Lezura noticed that the activity on the streets wasn’t like the previous time they came here. She fell back from Joey and went amongst the wyassies.
Even with their escorts tight around them, Lezura still said, “I do not like the feeling I am getting from this place.”
“Then we will stay here,” Telkit said.
The wyassies stopped, causing their escorts to pause.
“What the hell is the problem?” Oleon at the front said.
“We want to take in the sights,” said Dunit merrily, “it is our first time here, after all.”
Oleon knew that they were just messing with him, and that they were suspicious of them and their leader. But as far as Oleon knew, if Joey was able to full the generator everything would be fine. They could be cautious if they wanted.
Oleon said to Joey and Lezura, “Come on,” and turned away.
In the warehouse they saw Stralin slowly pacing around in his thoughts. Upon seeing them he stopped and said, “It better work, today…”
Finally, Lezura lost her patience. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, and said, “Listen, you cannot possible defeat all of us here, you stupid old fart. We have hundreds more of use waiting at the camp. I dare you to attack. And even if that does not get you, the orderrans will—who should be arriving any time soon…” Lezura ignored the startled look on Stralin’s and Oleon’s faces patted Joey on the shoulder. “Go ahead, Joey.”
Joey waltzed over to the fuel port of the generator and took out the compass. He called out Fopi and told him to get ready. Once they were set Joey pushed the key inside the port, and with a chain reaction from honoi to the key he pumped the key’s energy inside the generator.
Some seconds in and the gauge was filling up, well beyond fifty. It seemed that Joey was going to pass out at one point, but he gritted his teeth and pushed harder. When Joey hit his limit he stopped and supported himself with hands on his knees.
“How did I do?” Joey said.
Oleon, Stralin and Lezura checked the fuel gauge. It was at one hundred percent.
Lezura suddenly kissed Joey on his cheek, sending ripples of warmth all over his body.
“You did it, Joey!”
Joey finally was able to grin for good reason. He pulled away from Lezura and pointed at Stralin.
“Hah!” he said. “Take that you racist piece of shit! Who can’t compare to the first Rakai now, huh? Hey, you better hold up your end of the deal now!”
“We will,” said Oleon with the tiniest smile of delight on his face as Stralin walked pass him. Oleon patted the generator. “The immigrants can have that part of the city, so long as they do not cause any trouble with us over here. With this loaded we can have energy for years.” He went into contemplation for a brief moment. “Thank you, Rakai…”
Joey nodded at him. Something crossed his mind, and he turned to Lezura and said, “Hey, Lez, do you think we could get a generator for the camp?”
“Now that you mention it…” Lezura rest a hand on her hip and rubbed her chin “…we could ask the captain to deliver a generator for us. He must be able to find a spare in the city…!”
As Oleon watch Lezura and Joey exchange opinions, some hurried movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned, and saw Stralin hurriedly typing away at one of the screens.
Alarmed, Oleon stepped to him and said, “What are you—”
“POWER DISTRIBUTION NOW INITIATING,” was the words from the computer that cut him off.
“What is he doing?” Lezura said. She looked at Stralin and back at Oleon. “What the devil is he doing?”
Oleon raised his voice and said, “General?”
General Stralin took a radio off his belt, switched it on and said, “This is the general, commence the operation…”
“You piece a shit!” Joey said, reaching for his pistol.
But the general was faster, snatching his off his waist and firing off a round in Joey. The bullet dented Joey’s armor underneath his shirt, but the force was enough to knock him back and sting him.
“Dammit!” Oleon said, hurrying into the street.
Oleon thought about where the hell the general could have sent the power. What he could be doing with it now. And why the blasted man would want to start a confrontation after all of this. He was always weary of the general’s own ideals, even if they both shared the same dislike for aliens.
But to risk his people in a senseless battle…? Oleon pondered.
The Vicekens!
The realization hit Oleon like a wild punch, sending him off course to the hanger were the mechsuits were kept; were he already saw armed men heading. He saw two of the operational mechs heading to the front gate with the other combatants.
And he saw the wyassies become huge blue giants.
Running inside the hanger, Oleon spotted the men, and found the highest in rank and command. It was a trimmed-haired Outo nycarman, wearing a light grey merino and green trousers. He had a Malcer slung across his back, and was waltzing towards the mechsuits locked down on the ground and against the walls.
Oleon grabbed him and spun him around; looking into the man’s scarred face.
“What the hell are you doing lieutenant?” Oleon said.
“Following the general’s orders,” he said crossly, lifting the Malcer into his hands.
Some men already snapped up the latch at the base of the cockpit, opened the door and entered the suits.
“Are you insane?” Oleon said, “The general wants to start a war at our expense! Think about your kids—”
A blow from the butt of the Malcer to Oleon’s head knocked him down. The lieutenant looked down at him and said with distaste on the tip of his teeth, “I am thinking about my children, and I will not have them enslaved to wretched aliens!”
Two mechsuits lumbered pass the Lieutenant, prompting him to board one of them. Once he did he followed the last of the seven Vicekens out of the warehouse. He turned off to go and help the general.
The first thing that prompt the wyassies into action were the shouts from Lezura and Oleon from inside the barn. They saw armed men slipping out of the buildings around, along with the Vicekens, and finally they heard a gunshot.
But they couldn’t simply run off into the unknown like that, plus they were already occupied with a few Hapchenan coming their way.
“Boys,” Murbella said.
“On it,” Dunit and Telkit said.
The three wyassies emitted their honoi which shrouded them completely. Their bodies grew with the continuous output of the honoi, until finally three 7 meter tall blue giants with glowing veins all over their bodies stood amongst the scattering Hapchenan. Two of them had a definite male anatomical design, as did the one female, with a head of misty energy.
Once the Hapchenan distanced themselves from the giants they unleashed a hailstorm of bullets at them. It did nothing more to cause ripples of popping honoi in the bodies of the Zeromuos.
But damn could the Zeromuos do much worse to them!
Murbella strode forward and stomped a woman flat, splattering yellow fluid from beneath her feet. Before two men could run away she stooped and swung her forearm, sending their broken bodies flying into the roof of a house.
Dunit ran into a group of men and kicked three of them sky-high.
Telkit grabbed two people in his massive hands like he was holding two dolls. He clapped his palms together with a booming thud. Gore splattered between his fingers.
The mechsuits opened fire, 60 cal. rounds ripped chunks off the bodies of the Zeromuos. Dunit shielded his chest where his main body was and charged into the mechs.
One of them managed to hop away, but the other got a clothesline that knocked it across the chest, flipping into onto its back. Before Dunit could stomp the mech in the head it raised its other gun, a large version of the Plasmapumper, and fired two blasts that dissolved off Dunit’s right shoulder.
His arm fell off like a broken piece of a statue. The shock was enough to Dunit’s real body to send a jolt of pain in his shoulder, and he staggered away.
With feline reflexes the Viceken rolled onto its feet and fired more blasts of plasma at Dunit. One shot knocked Dunit’s head clean off, causing his real head to throb violently. But Dunit still had his real eyes to see.
He ducked and fired a Blueburst into the pelvis of the mech. The blast was intercepted by the mech’s frontal shield projectors, but it sent a crackling wave of electricity that shorted out the shield. The jolt momentarily sent the mech off balance, giving Dunit the chance to ram his should into it, crashing it into a house.
Before it could get back up Dunit repeatedly stomped the cockpit until it was out of shape. The mech stopped moving, but the use of the Zeromuos also took its toll on Dunit. The honoi fatigue was massive, knocking Dunit unconscious. The blue giant disintegrated and Dunit’s body fell in the rubble.
One of the two mechs got pass Telkit and Murbella, leaping over their heads and towards the gates were the others were converged in a fierce gun-battle with the few members of the Dielengann Path and refugees.
The other mechs were quickly filing into the streets outside, pushing the people back with gunfire and stepping on and over their slain victims of aliens and animals.
Between those retreating and those advancing was a firework of bullets, the greens of plasma rounds, yellows of hot lead and the blues of honoi. Amongst the Dielengann Path and the refugees, they had scattered themselves down the street where the woods began, abandoning their animals to take cover. Bensaur and Jivel each commanded their own people, with a man named Halirit leading the Tyhunies.
A greshku running scared through the midst of the gunfire got chewed up by gunfire, its sides ripped open and its guts spilled out. The same was for a lazhinian next to Bensaur. Plasma rounds burned into his chest and cooked him from the inside out.
He fell at Bensaur’s feet. Bensaur waited until the gunfire ended before popping around the tree and firing a Blueburst, downing a Hapchenan member.
He saw one of the mechsuits entering the thick woods of thee street, and shouted for those nearby to spread out. The mech unleashed a stream of bullets that ripped up plants and the bodies of those unfortunate to be in the way to bloody shreds.
As they pressed the people back the nycarmans spread out at its sides to try and close in on them.
The mech spotted a Xemingi and refugee just as she shot a nycarman and fired a blast of plasma. The bullet hit the woman, immediately disintegrating her torso to a steaming bloody mess that splashed everywhere. It caught the dracoid next to her on the chest and face, boiling his flesh like acid. He rolled in the grass screaming, and gunfire from approaching nycarmans silenced him.
Bensaur leaped over a mossy rock, crouched behind it, feeling it jerk each time a bullet struck it. Around him were two Xemingi and three civilians from the camp. He made to fire but hearing the gunshots chipping at the rock forced him back down. A blast of dirt and mass slapped in his face and into his mouth. He spat the stuff out.
“Is anyone here a projectile user?” he said.
A female dracoid said after firing some shots with her crossbow and stooping, “I am!”
Bensaur said, “Everyone else, provide some cover for her! Miss I need you to disable the mech’s shield.”
“Yes!” she said.
Once a few plasma blasts went over their head, they popped up with a hailstorm of gunfire at Bensaur’s signal. The nycarmans around the mech took cover while the mech advanced.
The woman snuck around almost the right side of the mech. Once there she fired two Blueburst at the shoulder where the shield projector was. The shield crackled until it evaporated. A nycarman spotted the woman and opened fire. The woman took four rounds with a grunt and wince. They were lead; the nycarmans had run out of plasma rounds rather quickly.
The woman fired two shots at the tree where the nycarman was and waited. Just when the nycarman though she had stopped and showed his head she fired another round in his head.
Seeing the flashes of electricity Bensaur switched to his Plasmapumper and took aim at the mech before it became stable again. He fired off two shots at the head, completely destroying it. He lowered the gun and fired three more into the cockpit. The first shot softened it and the other two blast their way inside, melting the pilot before he could even scream.
The mech toppled over, exposing the nycarmans behinds it.
“Advance,” said Bensaur. “Keep shooting!” He leaped over and led the charge.
With the nycarmans out of plasma rounds, shots were just pinging off Bensaur’s acril-iron armor.
A Malcer round tore a huge hole in Bensaur’s neck. Bensaur staggered forward with blood streaming form the wound. Feeling himself slowly losing consciousness he pointed at the man who shot him, firing off the last round in his weapon
The round exploded the man’s torso and splatted his friend, distracting him with burns long enough for a Xemingi to pop two rounds from her pistol in his head.
Bensaur pressed his hand against his round, but it did nothing to stop the blood gushing out. Gasping heavily he toppled over. He still had enough strength to lift his Malcer rifle with one hand, and squeezed of stream of bullets at a nycarman coming up behind a Xemingi with a knife. The shots spun him head over heels, and Bensaur’s vision went dark.
The Sekku and Halirit led their people against three mechs in the woods; the projectile honoi users firing at the machines while the gunners behind them took shots when their shields were down.
Some plasma weapons were taken from the slain Hapchenan and were being used to drive back the foot soldiers and damage the mechs, but unfortunately there weren’t enough plasma rounds for either side, and with the Hapchenan hiding behind their mechs they were laid waste to the opposition.
One of the mechs had a large, plasma arc-charger it used to spray a sweeping beam of energy at the aliens, scorching trees and reducing bodies to charcoal covered bones.
The heat from the beam was so intense that Jivel simple brushed against it and the flesh on her shoulder was scorched to a blacken crisp.
“Are you find, Sekku!” said a Tyhuny next to her.
Sekku gritted her teeth and used her honoi to dull the pain. “I am quite dandy!” she said. She fired from her lancegun while retreating down a slope.
“We need to take out those mechs!” shouted Halirit with short, curly golden hair from a gopto tree across her. Some mech-sized bullets slapped into the side of the tree and sent splinters flying. Halirit flinched and withdrew further from the edge.
A raizean running from the assault had his legs clipped from beneath him by the mech’s gunfire .He only manage to wail and crawl a few feet before a bullet entered the back of his head.
“I know that!” the Sekku said. “Blast! Where are those damn geckoids already?”
For days now, since they first departed from the group on their first journey to Ussia, Hanim and some two dozen geckoids had been hiding in the woods the whole time, feeding on nothing but little birds, tapikes and insects they whipped raw into their mouths with their long tongues.
They were the contingency plan the allied forces had put in place; stealthy little people not so adept at tight, bloody battles, but excellent when it came to delivering quick decisive strikes.
They had stripped down to nothing but pieces of tree bark and leaves hiding their tender privates from the elements, and even painted their weapons in camouflage colors.
With great leaps they went from the tree to tree, crossing over the unsuspecting Hapchenan and their mechs below. They carried small bags with what little explosives the Dielengann Path could buy from the dealers in town, mostly shrapnel, but it still worked.
Like a passing jet delivering a missile, they leapt over their heads and dispensed the explosives. The explosions cracked apart the shields of the mechs. By the time they could respond gunfire rained down on them, falling nycarmans with riddled bodies.
Two geckoids, both honoi users, stood on a limb over a mech mowing down Tyhunies and Felkremin. One of them was a molder, who produce a blob of honoi in his cupped hands, stretched it until it was a javelin. The other, a melee type, augmented his fist with a Hiranien. On Hanim’s signal, with her Plasmapumper ready, they attacked.
The geckoid with the javelin threw it at the mech’s shoulder near the core of the shield projector, the shield boomed with static that evaporated. The geckoid with the Hiranien leaped off, landed on the mech’s shoulder and socked it in the head. His little fist was powered up with the Hiranien, allowing it to smash into the side of the head and hit the vitals.
The pilot’s vision was killed instantly, and immediately before he panicked blew his breath on the sensor screen in front of him and activated the cockpit door ejection. He pressed the yes button and the door popped off with a thud in the dirt, revealing a windshield if front of the pilot.
Hanim opened fired at the mech, ripping off its right arm with three well placed shots as the geckoid leaped off into a nearby tree.
The mech spun.
When the geckoids started, the Sekku went to work. She dropped her pistol and ran towards a mech at the front, its shield rippling with static that told her it was vulnerable.
“What the hell are you doing?” Halirit said.
“Take out the foot soldiers while I deal with this one!” she said.
She zigzagged to avoid the shots. Some reached her and broke her armor apart, but she got there.
The mech instinctively kicked at Jivel, the swift woman dodged it, but the mech swung its arm around, nearly cleaving off her head. Jivel molded her honoi into thick sword. She jumped for the mech’s foot, slashing the tendons in the knee clean through.
With the mech dragging a dead foot, it was slowed down enough for Jivel to follow up with a thrust to the other knee, punching right inside it. The crippled mech sunk in a squat, unable to move. The torso spun around about couldn’t find the Sekku, who was hiding beneath it.
But all its searching ended with a two plasma bullets pumped into the cockpit from Hanim above.
The mech with the one arm spotted the geckoids above. It raised the gun on its other arms and opened fire, sweeping its arm in an arc. The bullets ripped up three geckoids and took them out of the trees. Hanim turned around to the mech and fired a shot in the cockpit.
She had the unsettling sight through the clear windscreen to see the plasma round melt the pilot to a green-yellow pulp in his seat.
A bullet clipped Hanim in her foot and took her out of the tree. She lashed her tongue around the limb. She hung there, bleeding from her leg while the counter attack of the allied forced below pushed on.
Crap! Hanim thought, I’m naked, missing one foot and hanging from a tree by my damn tongue. It’s a good thing my boys aren’t here to see this.
A bullet clipped Hanim’s tongue. She screamed a gargling sound as she fell. An Oikumi was in hot pursuit of her. Hanim watched as it got closer to collect her soul.
No! I can’t die! My husband! My boys!
A question sign popped up in her mind when she saw the Oikumi veer off. She fell on a soft surface like a pile sheets.
But it was actually a blob of honoi in someone’s arms that she landed on and squished into a fine mist. She pulled her bleeding tongue into her mouth, and slowly moved her large eyes to look up in the face of someone she recognized from way back at Suride Town.
Commissioner! She wanted to say, but her tongue gave her hell over and over again.
Commissioner Oldam took a vile of lazhinian blood from out of his coat, carried Hanim behind a lucaysha tree and injected her with it. Hanim shut her eyes and whimpered.
“Don’t worry,” Oldam said, “help is here…”
Jeeps roared through the woods on the side of the thinning allied forces, scattering them tomake way for the mechanical beasts let loose upon the unsuspecting. But they had some control, and quickly turned into a bumpy drift that nearly toppled over a few of them to allow their passengers to jump out while providing a wall of cover.
Nesten, Coenter and Dinon split up with the others, already leading their groups around the last mech and the nycarmans. A shrapnel grenade exploded and sent up clouds of dust, gunfire sparked like twinkling stars in the murkiness, along with shouts, screams and the enraged laughter of one dracoid.
The snipers up at the towers were picked off those who dared to break their cover to attack. One such unfortunate fellow was a yautgan, who had a bullet rip through his neck. The nycarman that shot him grinned with delight. His partner at the other side scored a hit in the head of a Tyhuny, snapping her around and dropping her on her side.
“Yeah!” he said
And he saw something fly through the air, leaving a faint trail of orange light.
“What…?”
Heliri flew pass the tower again, tossing in a dirty grenade inside the tower and disappeared all in a split second as the nycarman shot at her and missed. When he looked at the thing the woman threw inside at him, his face went pale—
The bomb went off; the force along with the shrapnel ripping apart his body and tossed him out the room.
His companion looked at the smoke coming out of the other tower, and looked ahead of him to s