LF Friends, Will Travel

Baithe scrambled as she searched through the bundles of supplies for the needed items, pushing the pounding headache she had to one side. Murderous Raha were patrolling and swarming the research station; she would have time to be properly hungover later. Right now she needed something to fight back with, something to even the odds. A gun would be useful, but in the Terran’s great wisdom they had decided to limit such supplies, lest accidents happen on the highly controlled scientific station.

“Worried statement: What are you doing? What are we doing?”

Steve was next to her, having half filled the metal containers they Scythen had been given with water, awkwardly holding them aloft on their hovering transport disk. Baithe didn’t answer, simply causing another cascade of items to scatter onto the floor as she pulled out the item she needed. Pure Potassium.

While she might not have weapons, she did have a scientific mind and a room full of fun and interesting chemicals. She dropped a large handful of random bolts into one of the water filled metal containers and carried it into the hallway, setting it down and tying a piece of string to the container and stretching it across the passage. Then, carefully and slowly Baithe attached a sizable chunk of Potassium to the underside of the container’s lid and started ever so gently screwing it into place.

“Worried statement: Is that what I think it is?”

A childhood of Terran media consumption, as well as browsing the Terran Galnet nodes, had given the Hatil a knowledge of things normal civilised members of the galactic society didn’t know. Like how to make bombs. All they had to do was wait for any unlucky Raha to make their way through that corridor.

“Yea it is. Explosions!”

They didn’t have to wait long, taking refuge in the furthest corner away from the bomb as they heard the skitter scatter of insect feet approaching. The first in line hit the trip wire, toppling the container of water over and mixing it with the Potassium.

BOOM.

The sounds of destruction and pain echoed around the corridor, Baithe waiting a few moments for the noise to die down before poking her little furred head out of the doorway. The white translucent blood of the Raha coated the walls, along with scatterings of carapace and other associated gore. Large gouges in the wall showed where pieces of metal had gone flying at a very high velocity, turning the group of three Raha into swiss cheese.

The Hatil ignored the one remaining Raha who lay clicking erratically on the ground as she took the time to retrieve the guns each of the ex-assailants had been using, taking a moment to hand one over to Steve, expectantly waiting for the Scythen to take it from her, who instead just flashed a series of annoyed colours.

“Annoyed statement: Really?”

The Hatil gave a shrug, tossing the declined weapon to the side.

“Was worth a shot. Maybe your pacifistic religion thing had an emergency clause for being invaded.”

“Sarcastic clarification: It does not”.

Baithe started instead piling the supplies she had gathered into the disk Steve was floating on, forcing the bundle of tentacles to compress themselves as tightly as possible

“Well if you’re not shooting you can carry around the supplies!”

“Unconvinced statement: The bomb making supplies?”

The Hatil took a moment to hold a paw up to correct her friend and coworker.

“No, right now they’re normal supplies, until I put them together into explosives, upon which they become bomb making supplies. Perfect loophole!”

—-------------------------------------------

Spot desperately moved the oxygen canisters around, desperately looking for what the uplift had stashed here so long ago. An insurance policy, something he hoped he’d never actually need. Identical green pressurised canisters were stacked one after the other as Spot continued to search for the one that was special.

There!

Five rows deep, six from the left, a little notch in the nozzle he’d made to signify that his one didn’t contain oxygen. He gave the top a twist, the entire metallic top screwing off in one go as he dumped the fake container’s goods onto the floor: A small submachine gun and several magazines of ammo. On the one hand there were not supposed to be any weapons on the research station, lest accidents happen. On the other hand, while Spot wasn’t human, he was most definitely a Terran. A Terran who had grown up and lived in Texas. If those in charge of funding this project didn’t expect him to bring something with him, then that frankly was on them.

The uplift knew they were in trouble. The Raha were swarming the research station, a good twenty or so vicious, dangerous, and heavily armed psychopaths. Amander was also out of action, stuck behind the heavily enforced lockdown of her room for the next three hours. The good news was they didn’t have to wait that long. Because of the warning DRAKE had given them, they had been able to launch an emergency message to the closest possible aid, which cut down the time needed to delay to merely an hour. 60 long minutes before more Terrans with a lot more weapons descended upon the base.

A barrage of plasma interrupted Spot’s thoughts, forcing him to duck for cover into a small lab as the group of three descended upon his position. With gritted teeth he responded with his own burst of fire, bullets hitting the centre mass of a Raha who clearly wasn’t expecting a group of researchers to be armed.

More bright blasts of plasma were hurled in his direction, lighting up the small room as the energy based weaponry zoomed past the window and into the doorway, making popping back out that entrance an inadvisable act. Still, it wasn’t as if he was trapped, the room had a second exit on the opposite wall. Spot gave a blind hail of fire of his own to dissuade anyone advancing on his position, before slowly crawling along the floor, below the window and out of sight.

He popped out the second exit in an instant, gaining himself a perfect angle on the two unaware Raha who were attempting to take their own form of cover. Two centre mass bursts of fire were all that were needed to end this skirmish, just as Amander had taught him.

God damn it, Amander is going to lord this over me, isn’t she?

The human had been very insistent on teaching the doctor how to shoot and some basic combat skills, something that Spot had insistently called “A waste of time.”. He was a doctor and now a researcher, not someone jumping into the middle of a warzone. Right now he was rather glad he’d seceded to Amander’s request, no matter how much crow he was going to have to eat when he met her next.

He made his way down the hallway, stepping over the bodies he’d left behind as the uplift headed towards the location he knew the rest of his team must be. Meet up with Steve and Baithe, then delay. That’s all they needed to do: delay.

—---------------------------------------

Broken glass lay along the floor, the remains of the isolation chamber that had been trapping Fluur lay in pieces on the ground. Extracting the Zorthian from the medical piece of equipment had been the easy part, getting out of the room was proving to be far harder.

Amander kicked the bolt she was working on, watching the metal bend as she continued to pant heavily. The door was completely out of the question, the blast shielding was locked tighter than a miser’s purse, but there were other ways to get out of a room. The Terran was currently spending her time trying to undo the panelling that lined the walls.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t find us here?” Fluurs voice was small, worried, uncertain. “I thought this was supposed to be fine.”

“Look I don’t know what to tell ya.”

The Terran shoved the chair leg in between the gap she had created and started applying leverage, feeling the metal slowly start to bend. Ever so slowly. The fact is she really didn’t know what to say, nobody should know of this place, nobody should have guessed, how the hell the Raha were here defied all logic and reason.

“Are they going to be ok?”

The chair leg snapped in half, causing Amander to stumble, tossing the broken piece of metal to the side before returning to just trying to kick the thing open.

“Spot can handle himself, he’s a tough cookie.”

“What about Steven and Baithe?”

The bolt finally gave away, allowing Amander to peel back the part of the wall, shoulders slumping in dejection as she did so. It had taken her ten minutes to undo that piece of panelling, only to find further reinforced metal behind that. Guilt filled her mind, guilt that she was stuck in here, guilt that her problems had followed them to this location.

“I don’t know.”

—------------------------------

The Raha and by extension Lut’har were not having a good time. By all accounts this should have been an easy assignment, the research base was known to host only three non-combatants and they had a severe weaponry and personnel advantage. However, much as the unfortunate Raha were learning, those defending the research facility were not lacking in ingenuity and had the advantage of knowing the battlefield.

Every passageway seemed to be rigged with some form of explosive or flashbang, every corridor led to a hail of energy or kinetic based weapons. Even more insane, even by Terran standards, was that every room was seemingly hooked up to a plasma based organic cleaning system: Many Raha found themselves locked inside a random storage room or lab, then “cleansed” in an instant of superheated flame.

Even worse, they were running out of time. Somehow the researchers had managed to get warning of their deception and had sent out an emergency broadcast before the Raha could block communications. This meant they had a time limit for how long they could stay here before they bit off far more than they could chew.

Lut’har heard a hail of plasma decimate another group of Int’ch soldiers deeper into the research station, a feeling of annoyance filling his body from the top of his antenna to the bottom of his feet. It was unfortunately an open secret amongst anyone smarter than a pebble that man for man, the Raha army was not up to standard, preferring to win wars through technological superiority and pure numbers, against foes who were not a challenge.

It turns out having a society based on nepotism and stabbing each other in the back didn’t create good soldiers, watching the reinforcements he’d ask for get humiliated by a set of researchers filled him with annoyance. Without the tools of surprise and chaos they'd had upon the Ritilian vessel, it was rather embarrassing. Even if they were Terran researchers it shouldn’t be this difficult.

Which means he’d have to do it all by himself, like always. Because Lut’har didn’t have nepotism to fall back on, he’d been born in a cave as deep and as far away from the guiding light of Int’ch as you could get, and Lut’har had clawed and fought his way to the position he was currently in.

Slowly the Raha crept forwards, taking care to make no sound and telling the others with him to stay back. He could still hear his targets, the ones who had taken out the group in front of him, seemingly unaware of his approach. A more experienced opponent would have made far faster haste to leave as he tracked them, or made less noise. But they were just researchers after all, not experienced fighters.

He could now see one of their shadows as Lut’har pressed himself against the wall, the outline of his target cast upon the steel floor. Silently he lifted the Terran made weapon he was now using, angling it at the wall, knowing from experience it would blow a hole straight through the metal and into the space beyond.

Lut’har had to admit that he rather liked the weapon, it had a heft, a power to it, the first time he’d fired it the thing had almost broken his wrist. Compared with recoiless energy weapons, a kinetic weapon felt personal. A feeling he rather enjoyed as he aimed the gun at the figure on the other side of the wall, and pulled the trigger.

—----------------------------------------

The plasma bolts were accompanied by cries of pain from the Raha as the Hatil rained death down upon them. Her shots weren’t exceptionally accurate, but then again they didn’t need to be when your targets were disorientated by a jury-rigged flashbang.

Things were going surprisingly well, while the invaders were travelling in groups, the research station was surprisingly large and well stocked, allowing the Raha to be isolated and picked off in groups of three. A rhythm had been established: lead or wait until the attackers triggered some form of improvised explosive created by Baithe, then follow up the disorientated survivors with gunfire.

“Statement: You seem to be enjoying this a worrying amount.”

While Steve did refuse to hold any active weaponry, the Scythen had been carrying the various materials that Baithe was using the Macgyver her way through the situation they found themselves in.

“Firstly, we’re an outnumbered ragtag group of heroes. This is basically every single Terran movie I watched as a cub. Yippee-Ki-Yay, Motherfucker!”

Baithe paused for a moment to add more bolts and nails to the next bomb she was concocting.

“Secondly, if I stop to think about this for more than 10 seconds, I’m going to have a mental breakdown. We’re halfway there, only 30 minutes left, just gotta keep going.”

“Positive confirmation: You are doing a good job Baithe. There is no one else I’d rather be in this none optimal situation with.”

That caused the Hatil to break into a smile, giving a stress filled sigh in response.

“Well we’ve still got work to do, could you go ahead and pass me some of the potassium. We’ll setup the next ambush point and-”

BANG

A spray of black viscera covered the Hailt as a golf ball sized hole tore itself through the wall and then through Steve, time seeming to stand still as the new reality of the situation started to take hold. The Scythen’s tentacles started contracting and randomly spasming as the black blood flowed onto the floor in a torrent of gore, the items he had been carrying clattering to the ground as the disk shuddered and tipped.

“QUERY ERROR: ERROR ERROR ERRORR… ERROOOR………. ERRROOORRRR”.

The lights on the hover disk finally gave out, the entire contraption clattering to the floor with a bang, dumping the remains of the Scythen onto the floor

“Steve. You ok? Steve! Oh god!” Baithe rushed over to the remains, screaming out as she did so, scrambling as she attempted to put all the pieces back together. As if anything could undo what had just happened. It was then she saw the approaching Raha, a large menacing figure of evil and competence.

The Hatil bared her teeth in rage as she reached for her gun.

“I’m going to fucking KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD. I’M-”

BANG

An agonising pain caused Baithe to scream out as that paw that had been reaching for the gun was now gone, replaced with nothing more than blood and pain.

“Where is Amander Blake? I know she’s here and I don’t have time for this.”

The voice of the Raha was annoyed, as if all of this was taking far too much time, which in reality it was. He would have given an eye roll if he was physically able to do so as the Hatil instead decided to attempt to scurry away, ducking behind an upturned table. Int’ch turned to the rest of his men, motioning for them to deal with the researcher.

“Get what you can from the runt, I’m going to deal with the last one as none of you can seemingly do your jobs.”

Baithe sat there behind the table, cradling the remains of her right paw tears in her eyes. Fear, desperation and shock washed over her as Raha started filling the room, jeering and taunting as the excitement of a new plaything spread among the remaining attackers. One of them reached and hoisted her into the air, antenna twitching with joy as she helplessly squirmed in his grasp.

“I’ll give you a deal, tell us what we want and we’ll make it quick.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Baithe spat in his face, causing the Raha to slam the Hatil into the floor in anger, leaving her dazed and confused, head spinning from blood loss. She could see the body of Steve, the Scythen she’d been joking with just minutes before now deathly still. She was surrounded by Estorians and completely defenceless.

Then she spotted it… the button.

Not completely defenceless

In every room in this research facility, there was a button. A button that Baithe had been repeatedly told never to push unless absolutely needed. A button with a clear plastic casing to prevent an accidental activation and painted a bright “Don’t push me” red.

Baithe wasn’t able to delay any longer, she couldn’t save Steve or take out all the Raha or even save herself. But there was one thing she could still do. Some species believe that Terran insanity is contagious, that anyone of any race or background will eventually become insane if they spend too much time around Terrans. Those same people also believe that such insanity is always lethal.

Baithe had spent a lot of time around Terrans.

In an instant she leapt off the floor towards the button, flipping up the plastic guard and slamming it down with one quick motion. The Hatil could hear the sounds of the Raha shouting, a few even drawing their weapons as she moved, a handful even laughed at the sheer gall of their new playthings attempt to “escape”.

None of that mattered however, as in an instant the room was consumed with fire.

—---------------------------------

Lut’har felt the heat from the flash of flame behind him, causing the Raha to spin around to face the room he had just left. A room which was now an inferno of bright blue fire. The Raha’s communications network was filled with screams of pain for an instant before everything went silent. Lut’har stared incredulously as the flames eventually died down, leaving behind no trace of the men he once commanded.

By the grace of Int’ch, how had they messed that up? A mere minute ago he left them with a single unarmed injured researcher to interrogate, and now… Nothing remained. The Raha took a moment to send a message out for anyone left to make their way to his location. Nobody responded, Int’ch was alone.

Was this really the best the Raha royal house could give me?

After getting the warning from the Oracle he’d asked for reinforcements, but based on this might as well have not bothered. There was still a job to be finished, the murder of a prince to be avenged, a-

Lut’har spotted the movement reflected off a wall, giving him a mere second to whip his head out of the way as a burst of bullets thudded into the wall where his head had just been, ducking into a doorway before peaking back out. It was a Terran, machine gun in hand, teeth bared as it approached his position. Not the Terran Lut’har was after, it was one of those… uplifts they called them. He could use this, an idea started to form in the Raha’s mind.

He fired his own shots back, forcing the Terran to take their own cover. Lut’har could have easily hit him, but killing the uplift wasn’t what he needed right now. The Raha quickly made his way forwards, continuing to fire and pin down his quarry as he approached.

Lut’har could see the uplift attempting to move to another angle, the Raha giving one final shot to keep them in place, the sound of an empty magazine echoing out through the halls. The Terran tried to react, tried to swing his weapon around in time to take advantage, but it was already too late, Lut’har had already closed the distance needed.

Lut’har’s hand wrapped around the wrist holding the weapon, driving it forwards and slamming it into the wall. Without waiting a kick to the knee caused the uplift to stumble. A final brutal twist of the arm caused the Terran to let go of the weapon and drove him into the ground with a sickening crack of bone and a pained canine yelp.

“Where. Is. Amander. Blake!”

—-------------------

Amander had found a weakness. The ceiling wasn’t as heavily armoured as the rest of the room, a nice gap seemingly lay up there in order to supply the room with the various wires and pipes that it needed. Both occupants of the room remained in silence as the Terran stood on the desk, trying to rip free the final piece of metal.

“Amander Blake. I know you’re in here somewhere and I don’t have time to find where you’re hiding.”

The distinctly Raha voice echoed around the room, causing the Terran to stop what she was doing.

“You could stay where you are, but I have something I think you want. I remember reading a Terran saying, ‘A dog is a man’s best friend’.”

There was a sickening crunch followed by a scream of pain broadcasted through the room, a distinctly canine sound. Anger ripped over the face of the Terran.

“I’m waiting for you at the communications centre. Until then….”

Another howl of pain sounded out as Amander gave her own scream, finally ripping the remains of the ceiling panel off its bolts, finally providing a small hole to squeeze through. With anger and hate in her eyes she quickly grabbed two bags of medigel and checked her weapon, before climbing into the small passage.

“I'm gonna kill that fuckin insect!”