He glanced at her and smiled. “Yes,” he said, “they do. In fact it is believed their earliest forages into space may have been the basis for the vampire legends on a number of worlds. There are too many rumours to ignore.”
He stopped and listened as the mighty horns sounded again, then turned to his wife, “I must go now to the war council, but I will be back soon and let you know where we are going. Please, make sure the children are awake so their father can say goodbye?”
Melody nodded, “Of course.”
He stepped toward the door, and Melody said, “Onio, I love you.”
He turned around and reached the sleeping pallet in two long paces. He picked the human woman up in his arms and kissed her deeply, as though this kiss might be his last.
*
When he returned home two hours later, his face was grim and his dark eyebrows were lowered in a frown. His expression changed when he saw his two children standing outside his door. Melody had dressed them in their finest clothes and they had been scrubbed to within an inch of their lives.
Lumos stood tall and proud, stared up into his father’s eyes and declared, “I am coming with you, Papa!”
Angel, not one to waste words when a hug would do, launched herself into her father’s arms with a squeal of joy. Melody stood just behind her children and trembled with apprehension. Onio was one of the bravest beings she had ever known, hailed by the Sasquereen as one of their finest warriors. Seeing the look of worry on his face told her all she needed to know about the seriousness of the situation.
Onio hugged his little girl and stared down at his son with compassion. “Soon, Lumos, you will take your place by my side. Now, though, is not the time.” He watched as tears filled the boy’s sea-green eyes and added, “Your job here is very important, you know. You must keep your mamma and sister safe, while I am gone. Also,” he added with a grin of pride, “your instructor tells me that you are ready to take the controls in one of the fighter jets at school.”
Lumos’ eyes grew huge at this news. His biggest dream was to pilot a fighter jet and he studied hard at school. He thought that he would need to wait another three years for hands-on training to begin. His father’s words took the sting out of his leaving, and gave the boy hope that he might accompany the Sasquereen army on their next mission. He threw his arms around his Papa in gratitude and adoration.
Onio looked over his children’s heads at his wife, who stood just inside the doorway, clutching a thermos of Fire-root tea and a satchel of clothes for his journey. Her eyes begged the question and he mouthed the word Crulla.
He watched as she trembled, and then with a solemn blink of her eyes, held herself tall with dignity and courage. Smiling in pride, Onio marvelled anew at the strength of the human girl he had found one fateful night on Earth, and how much he loved her still.
Finally, Onio gathered his little family together in his mighty arms and bade them farewell as he prepared to fight a foe that was probably the most fearsome, most wanton, he or any other being in the Eight Galaxies had ever seen before.
3.
The one thing Onio had never been able to do was pilot a battle Ram, although the stars above knew he had tried. He did not expect to fly a spaceship; after all, that sort of training took a lifetime of study. He would have liked, though, to be in control of a Ram and the warriors in it. But no matter how hard he tried, his huge hands on the ship’s controls seemed to be all thumbs, and his hand-eye coordination went into dizzy spirals when his two feet were not firmly on the ground.
Instead, there was a young human woman named Two Horses at the helm of the ship; named after a long-deceased warrior from the Northern provinces on Earth. Their Ram headed the small fleet of thirteen battle ships that had left Sasquereen earlier that day.
Onio watched as the flotilla of Rams threaded the needle through a conglomeration of sleek Cruisers, huge multi-decked Corvettes, and stealth tanks that hovered in orbit around the Guild’s military transport hub. Beyond them, seven huge, block-like Command Ships made a perimeter around the whole area of space, each Command ship miles long and dozens of decks high.
An appreciative murmur of surprise rippled through the ranks of warriors on board the Ram when they spied fighter jets from the world known as Tribulon 683. They had heard of the Tatularians – a peace-loving, non-aggressive species from one of the outer star systems, but had never before met one.
Onio’s eyes narrowed as he studied the new Tat fighter ships, affectionately dubbed Starfish. Although he had never actually seen a starfish, he had studied books about marine life on Earth, and he acknowledged the Tatularian battle ships did resemble those sea-creatures.
There was much speculation about the Tatularians’ sudden willingness to build battleships and engage in war-craft. Onio understood that the universe was vast beyond comprehension, and inhabited with thousands of life forms; many of them peaceful and law-abiding, but many more of them little more than savages imbued with murderous intent.
Tribulon 683 was attacked by the Triad; an enormous, gaseous creature with three separate brains, which used its poisonous tentacles to smother and kill any existing life form it encountered, before sucking out memory and intelligence in its own greedy and insatiable quest for knowledge. After the attack, the Tatularians finally acknowledged their need to defend themselves and their planet. Their scientists and engineers built a space dock and filled it with the stunningly effective Starfish fighters.
Shaped like an eight-legged spider, standing upright, the ships literally swam through the stars, like a fish navigating the sea’s currents. Each of its limber legs waved fluidly… languidly – the motion compressing the inert gasses into the fuel that pushed the ship through the vacuum of space, until called upon to fight. In combat, the ship’s legs would snap to rigid attention and fill the space around it with laser fire, nuclear strike-pods, and anti-gravitational netting, while the compression propulsion system was instantly replaced with a far more powerful proton reactor engine.
The Sasq warriors had stared in open-mouthed wonder at footage of the Tatularian fleet and its capabilities when they were shown in holographs in the war-room briefings. Although the ships were tiny, (perhaps 20 meters in total circumference) they were deadly, manoeuvrable and so effectively cloaked they became invisible to even the most perceptive scanners. Onio had never met a Tatularian soldier and hoped he might have that honour today at the war council.
The human pilot turned around in her seat and said, “Okay, boys and girls, buckle up, and prepare for docking.” The woman grinned, knowing exactly how her passengers felt about what was coming.
The Sasq warriors groaned, but followed the pilot’s orders. A certain phenomenon took place at each docking that caused significant discomfort and embarrassment for the Sasquereen warriors. An effect very similar to a mini-FTL (faster-than-light) jump took place within the ships interior, when the Ram pilots back-washed their engines in order to dock safely. This caused everything to briefly expand and contract, slamming the Sasquatches’ bellies into their throats, causing nausea, vertigo and sometimes terrible headaches.
Although the space agency and its medical staff did not understand why the mighty Sasq were so adversely affected by the mechanics of their own battle ships, the warriors had been trained to deal with it as best they could. Battle readiness was the key to any successful campaign, and no mission could succeed if its warriors were prostrate with space sickness.
Onio and his warriors chewed Nooni nuts to combat the nausea, sat back in their seats, and closed their eyes as the ship howled, contracted and lurched before settling comfortably into the cradle that stuck out at the far end of one of the hub’s many arms. Looking out the porthole window, Onio saw the other twelve Sasquereen ships come to rest along the metal walkway. He grabbed his carryall and ceremonial sword and stood in front of the hatch with his soldiers behind him.
The hatch opened and one of the Dock-masters smiled at him as they walked out onto the metal grid that m
oved along, like a slow escalator, toward the bustling corridors of the main terminal. This Dock-master was an android. Although it’s upper torso was humanoid in appearance, its bottom half was egg-shaped and puffed along on its own directional jets of air.
Onio couldn’t help but notice that this particular model bristled with weaponry, and wondered if the Guild was worried about terrorism, or some other imminent attack. War begat war; or so Onio believed.
Whenever a hostile species threatened one of the protected worlds in the eight galaxies, there was almost always some sort of pre-emptive strike, or hostile action on the part of the threatened worlds or their sister planets.
The small planet under attack by the Crulla was an outpost settlement from the planet Loraneille. Onio had no doubt that emissaries, soldiers and attack ships were here now, eager to join their ranks and avenge the Crulla’s slaughter of their people. The Sasq general thumbed through a small hand-held electronic keypad and studied the Loranians as he and his warriors followed the android to the closest lift pad.
They were very small, Onio saw, like hairless human children. The Loranians had blue-green skin and large, green eyes like frogs, which protruded high up on either side of their foreheads. They walked upright but could climb almost anything, having long clawed fingers and tails that were used as a third arm. They were hunter-gatherers, and apparently quite religious. Onio raised his eyebrows and slowed as he read.
Although holding religious beliefs was far from unusual, the Loranians prided themselves on building magnificent temple structures, and were clearly accomplished masons, metallurgists and builders, despite the simple natures of their tree dwellings. They were also sweet-natured and clearly no match for the Crulla, who had killed almost every Loranian on the outpost planet. The League scientists who studied the massacre, theorised that the blood and flesh of the Loranians was inedible due to its high salt and mineral content, but conceded that Crulla metabolism must compensate for this imbalance. Even so, it was clear the Loranians were no match for the Crulla. There were no Crulla casualties, or signs of combat reported in the initial distress call or the recon survey the League Council had received.
Onio growled deep in his throat. The Crulla kill for sport, he thought, and perhaps we shall do the same!
Onio put his keypad in his britches pocket as his group came to a stop in front of one of the hub’s many lifts. The android turned on its axis and chimed, “Please, only ten of you at a time.”
Onio nodded, stepping onto the metal grating, along with nine of his fellow warriors. Then, with a whoosh, the Sasquereen soldiers were lifted high into the air on the large disc, and transferred gently onto the top-most level. As the one hundred and twenty Sasquatches and their shipmates arrived in their groups of ten, many more robots — each of them programmed to make the guests feel welcome and comfortable within the hub’s commerce centre — greeted them. They were given itineraries and instructed to meet in the main briefing hall in precisely eight clicks - hub time.
Onio and his warriors saw many aliens traveling along the convoluted hallways of the League of Eight’s transport hub. There were Urkuli’s, and Aluarians, (tall, winged creatures that looked like angels). Humans, some in space suits and battle gear and some that looked like Roman citizens, and the Sea squid creatures of the planet Midok, who travelled in schools like fish and carried their own watery atmosphere in bulbous tanks on their tentacled shoulders.
As he and his group rounded a wide curve above the horticultural atrium of the hub, Onio saw four tiny Tatularian fighter pilots step into the crowded hallway. They were less than four feet tall and dressed in form-fitting silver and black uniforms. Their huge heads were grey and wrinkled as an elephant’s hide, but their enormous black eyes were filled with such knowledge and sorrow, Onio felt his knees go weak with awe.
One of the tiny Tats glanced up at the Sasq warriors as they passed. Then they all stopped and looked up at Onio and his comrades. The two species stared at one another speechlessly for a moment, and then the Tatularians bowed low in respect.
“Guardians of Sasquereen, we are most honoured to meet you at last,” one of the little aliens said, and then the group of aliens proceeded down the hallway and out of sight as the sasquatches watched in reverence.
“Stars above.” Onio’s best friend, Blue Sky, murmured as the little aliens walked away. Onio and Blue’s eyes met for a moment, and they grinned. Then the Sasq warriors went to find a bite to eat before heading to the briefing.
*
Two hours later, Onio and his warriors sat with thousands of soldiers of every species in the League, in one of the Guild’s great briefing halls. Four dignitaries sat and stood on the stage while pictures of planets, alien species, and the invading hoard identified as the Crulla, scrolled across the giant holo-screens placed on the right of the stage.
As the briefing began, a video was played; taken by an elder Loranian who had later perished.
Onio studied the alien invaders and didn’t like what he saw. For one thing, they were humanoid, and Onio always felt uncomfortable when he needed to attack a species that looked so much like the humans he had grown to respect. That was where any similarities to humanity ended. The Crulla were enormous, at anything from seven to nine feet tall. In addition, their bodies were heavily muscled and it looked like most of the larger males weighed in at 400-500 pounds each.
These were the warrior class of the species. Maybe more disturbing to Onio was the ruling class. According to the information the League Admiralty had amassed, they very closely resembled human beings on Earth. Although uniform in their beauty, they were much smaller than the warriors, though still tall by human comparison, and their eyeteeth could snap into their upper jaws like knives in a sheath. They could walk amongst human kind, Onio mused, and no-one would be any the wiser.
All of them were mainly hairless with pallid, white complexions and dark eyes. The most chilling thing about the warriors, however, was their fangs. Sasquatches had large, square teeth with long canines designed for eating meat and heavy roughage. The Crulla canine teeth were longer than the Sasq’s. He watched angrily as they bit and tore at their victims, drinking their very essence as they killed.
Onio could only admire the intrepid photographer who had the presence of mind to record his people’s slaughter, in an effort to show the citizens of his home world who the perpetrators were. Onio growled in rage and heard many of his warriors do the same, as the recording device was dropped to the ground, showing the final moments of the Loranian who had taken the film.
One of the lecturers glanced at the Sasquatches and smiled. “Ah, I did not see the mighty Sasquereen sitting there in the darkness.” This man was a human, an ancient being from the planet Ariel, and one of the League’s highest, ranking Generals. He stared at the Sasq for a moment and then looked out at the crowd of soldiers who had gathered to stop the Crulla’s rampage across the heavens.
“It is in the Sasquatch’s nature to protect the weak from harm. It has been their task from time immemorial, but now all of us must prepare to stop this new threat!” His voice had risen in a shout and now his words echoed around the hall.
“The Crulla know exactly what they are doing, and despite our pleas and offers of friendship, they continue on this path of destruction! Our scientists have charted their course, and now we believe that this terrible threat makes its way deeper into the eight galaxies and on into the Sollus system, toward the planet known as Earth!”
Onio felt his breath freeze in his chest. Blue Sky’s eyes met his and they instantly shared their fears.
‘Small humans are not prepared for this creature.’ Onio thought to his friend and comrade.
‘They will destroy everything in retaliation against the Crulla.’ Blue Sky silently agreed, ‘Their nuclear weapons will parch the planet forever.’
“And so, we have devised a plan we hope will halt the Crulla in their tracks. We will each have important roles to play, not least of which
shall be the capture of some of their Commanders…”
4.
While the League of Eight prepared for war, the Crulla moved on from the planet Austara, to an inhabited planet in the adjacent system on their star-charts, called Ontarray. The slaughter of the Loranians had been satisfying to the morale of the Crulla warriors, but did not soothe the constant ache of starvation in their bellies. Many dozens of the Crulla warriors fell ill within a short time of their return to their ships, causing the Commanders to reconsider how they approached new sources of sustenance.
The ship’s doctors and scientist did not think it wise to waste more fuel and resources on an inedible species, so this time scout ships flew to the planet’s surface, in an effort to make sure the blood they harvested was nutritious. There were no sentient beings on Ontarray, but there was a species of large worm-like creatures, that burrowed elaborate networks of holes in the sere sands and rocks, so that the planet’s surface resembled a perforated grid.
While the bulk of the Crulla fleet cloaked and hid behind the planet’s largest moon, warriors scoured the land. The task of the warriors was to kill and harvest some of the giant worms, so their blood could be analysed. This was proving a difficult task as the worms were, in some cases, over a kilometre in length and their mouths seethed with enormous revolving fangs.
These worms seemed indestructible to the dumbfounded warriors. It was easy enough to sneak up on one from behind and chop the creature’s tail off, but the Crulla found out quickly that the cut end regenerated almost instantly and reared up in the air with aggressive hostility. Although the warriors never saw a new piece of worm grow the deadly fangs of its host, the three-feet-long, razor-sharp teeth were not necessary, as the newly risen cut-piece was perfectly capable of crushing its attackers into the dirt.
Over forty Crulla warriors had already met their end on Ontarray, and despite the fact that what little blood they had been able to send up to the science labs was found to be compatible with the Crulla biology, the Commanders were beginning to think that the cost was too high. Plans were written and rewritten, with the aim of capturing a single specimen and using it as a food-source while they sought another world to harvest.