Xeno Core

Why would Kali do that? Tulson's corpse isn't even cold yet, and she doesn't seem even slightly upset. These thoughts keep rolling through Gelly's mind.

Kali and Robar had been left disarmed and tied up at the ruins of what Gelly recognizes as a tribal camp. The aliens leave Robar's comms unit with the Navy scum, in order for his leader to find them. Gelly would rather drag them back to Imperium territory to face punishment for Marta's murder, but he accepts that getting home might be easier to dream of than accomplish.

All of their tech is loaded into the Bag, as the faceless alien had called the ship. Gelly forces himself to strip his dead friend's body of her suit and other equipment. It can't be left behind for the Navy to claim. They'll be able to extract the newest upgrades, and catch up in the arms race between their disparate cultures.

Who knows what secrets Kali may already have given them. That thought gives him the willpower necessary to perform the grisly task. Afterwards, he fills Tulson's pockets with stones and throws her into the deepest part of the swamp nearby. Two of the aliens stand with him as he mourns his friend. They watch together as her body sinks into the mud.

The third alien, with all her armor plates, chooses to guard the shuttle. Tribals could be lurking in the swamp. They find her testing Kali's flechette rifle when they return. Swathes of the burnt trees bear fresh gauges, fibrous trunks leaking thick sap.

Only the most suicidal tribal would show themselves while that was being fired. She puts down the SAm20 when they enter the clearing. Gelly has a hard time with their body language, but she almost seems embarrassed to be caught playing with a new toy. Her wavy bits are more haphazardly flailing than usual, he thinks. Unless that's just the wind.

"So. Can I put my armor back on?" The translator built into the helmet will be useful for communicating with the aliens. He'd forgotten how much making the necessary sounds to speak the tribal argot strained his throat and mouth. It hadn't been crafted with beings like him in mind, after all.

She makes a sweeping gesture with her many long, thin arms, like clearing something intangible away. He takes this for a yes and gladly redons his black and gold vacuum suit. Sharpened sticks will bounce off the metal armor but would skewer his soft gray skin.

"We wish to use your vessel," states the armored one, Mos Gol.

"Not one to waste time, eh?" He fastens the helmet into place and activates the translation software. He connects a wire from his suit to the black device the Navy scum was using to translate. It takes him three tries to find a plug that can interface with the outdated device.

"Correct. This vessel could be useful to scout for additional tribal camps." She leans closer to him and sets a couple of her long filaments on his shoulders. "We could also use your knowledge of these Navians. They are not the kind of allies we need, but perhaps you Merchants are."

The old device hums quietly as it boots up. He transfers over the files containing the Squiver's language to his system. Happy with the installation, he depowers the archaic translator and tosses it aside. Its function complete, it may now rest.

"I'm from the Selberfeld Imperium. We're more than just merchants. We explore, and keep the colonies safe from outside threats," Gelly explains. "Those two were from the remnants o' the Coalition Navy. The original Coalition fell apart back in me grandparents' day, I think."

He rolls his shoulders, settling the weight of the armor. "Ye help me get back to Imperium territory, and ye can keep the thing."

The robed alien, Zek something, slithers up to him. "I lack the strength to open portals on my own, but it lies within my power to read the traces left upon your vessel. If we can get you back to Homeworld, it should be possible to open a pathway to the nearest habitable world that matches those leavings."

"Mos Bruen and Somner Zek will escort you back to our base camp," says Mos Gol, who then turns to directly address the younger alien. "Once there, send me back three soldiers to crew this contraption. And another six to carry all this magitech back to base."

Bruen signals his understanding, or possibly swats a flying pest, with his tendrils. The suit can't translate visual cues for him, so Gelly must rely on his own intuition. His time among the tribals helps him tremendously, but his only experience with this particular race had been in combat.

The three of them head off into the swamp. In his sealed suit, the mud is only a mild hindrance, and it slides right off the aliens' uniforms and bodies. If anything, the tentacled monstrosities move more easily in the muck filled water.

The sky is beginning to go dark when Mos Bruen signals for a halt. Gelly readies his rifle as he looks around. Trees with sheets of moss hanging from their many widespread branches fill his view. Fronds grow from higher patches of dry ground, and aquatic grasses float lazily on the surface of the murky water. His suit display highlights five heat signatures closing in on them. Bruen must have heard them coming, or maybe smelled them.

The closest heat source leaps from the cover of the thick vegetation. Long, segmented body dripping with dark mud, the many chitinous legs of the tribal are segmented. Only the front most pair are high enough out of the water to see the pincher-like claws on the ends. The font segment of the creature houses armlong serrated mandibles with cruel hooks on the end. An array of antennae juts forward from the being's eyeless face.

His SAm20 kicks and a cloud of thin electrified blades turns the tribal's head into a brown gooey stump. The corpse spasms, many legs sending dirty water flying. Crueler to let them live, Gelly thinks, if we're after the chief. The greenery behind the dead tribal is also torn away, thin streamers of smoke rise from the charred ends of the shredded plants.

Two more spring out from the left, close to Bruen. Somner Zek swims away, shying away from battle. Too busy to watch them for long, Gelly pivots, careful to find the firmest footing he can, before firing at a tribal still sneaking around to the right. His suit gives him an advantage that he is more than willing to exploit.

Heat readings in the direction Zek had swam off alert him to the location of the last tribal. A loud crack and a heavy splash cause his head to snap in that direction. Zek is floating unconscious in the water. Silvery blood colors the dark water, spilling from the rapidly chilling corpse of the fifth savage.

He wades over to her, even as he turns his gun towards Bruen's fight. One tribal is already dead, floating in the murk. The other, a tall brown feathered being standing on long yellow scaled legs, swings its yellow scaled arms at the tattoo covered alien. The claws never even touch him, thin filimants and thick both wrapping around the mud speckled arm of the feathered creature.

He pulls it off balance and it falls into the mud. Bruen goes down with it, wrapping his heavy tentacles around the savage alien's neck and holding its black beak tightly shut. The alien warrior drags his foe under the water.

He seems to have it under control, so Gelly turns his attention back to Zek's prone form. She's moving, twitching on the water. The Weapons Operative places one hand tentatively on the senseless alien's torso. Zek jerks awake immediately and Gel steps back in sudden alarm.

Energy levels in his battery pack had lowered drastically in the short time he was in contact with the alien. Pained yells come from the other alien, his many tendrils wrapping around his horrible head. Gelly's mouth hangs open inside his helmet.

Zek regains her senses first and moves with unusual pep to check on Bruen. Her whiplike appendages move in complex patterns that make Gelly's brain tingle to watch. The odd eye in the center of his face shimmers oddly for an instant with a color that Gel can't name.

The male alien spasms once before releasing his head. He straightens his black tunic, movements flustered. Gelly resolves not to touch either of the crazy Squivers again.