Page 2 of Broken Earth

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Veral continued examining the buildings as he made his way down the road. Most of them were barren of anything except for primitive computing units and a small selection of furniture, if any at all. These did not appear to be dwellings but were likely once used for industry or socializing. While these places could, at times, prove profitable—such as in the case of the computing units which could be stripped down for metals—the easiest sources were always residential areas where sentient beings collected property. That was what he was searching for. Certainly not broken windows with ragged textiles and buildings yawning with wide, empty spaces. There was, however, a promising handful of places that seemed to have once sold primitive technology. He made note of each of them.

One particular shop had numerous mounted screens, and although they were cracked and damaged, he grinned in anticipation of pulling them apart. This trip was going to be far more profitable than he’d imagined! He was still smiling as he left, but his smile fell when his eyes landed on a strange fresh marking on the side of the building. Crouching down so that he was eye level with it, he ran a finger over it and lifted his hand up, rubbing his fingers together. The pigment was dry. No one had come upon him with him unaware of their presence and yet it still had the sharp scent of new pigment. The mark itself was odd and crude in appearance.Perhaps it is from a species possessing enough intelligence to utilize low-tech weapons and tools.That wasn’t unusual to find among animals. All the same, he considered it prudent to be cautious from that point on.

Where Veral was vigilant, Krono seemed unconcerned. He’d long caught and consumed the furry animal and was investigating every crumbling alley for more prey. This prompted numerous little creatures that Veral surmised to be rodents to scurry out of their hiding places in a manner that disgusted him. After the third time, he impatiently summoned Krono to his side as they ventured farther into the heart of the city. Krono kept an eager pace, and Veral’s exploration remained uneventful despite his unease. As the day wore on, he felt increasing discomfort until the moment he entered a residential zone and breathed in the astringent flavor of woodsmoke on the air.

Veral stopped in the middle of the road, his head turning as he attempted to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. The smell of salted fat left out in the sun also scented the air beneath the odor of smoke. Its foul perfume turned his stomach. While he’d been able to dismiss the markings as something created without logical reason by primitive beings, the scent of fire, grease, and burning flesh ran contrary to his original hypothesis.

These were the lingering remnants of what he’d assumed to be an extinct species. Not that they were likely to last long before those remaining few died out. The probability of the indigenous species posing any possible threat to him was so minimal that it was almost amusing to entertain thoughts of a rogue assault against him.

He looked around, but when no threat made itself known, Veral retrieved a disc from his belt and placed it on the ground to activate it. The disc wobbled and then erupted into metal pieces that folded out until they slid together and formed a basic salvage collector cart. He took a step and watched as it followed behind him as it was designed to do. Most beings had to get implants, but he merely updated his processors to include the lure codes for the device. Satisfied that the cart was working properly, he plundered the first houses he came across. He stripped salvageable electronic parts for their metals, retrieving a few gems from dust-lined containers that he pulled out from the grimy wooden cubes with little effort. His nasal ridges immediately pinched to protect his sensitive olfactory cavity from any spores that may rise into the air with the dust motes that billowed around him.

As the afternoon wore on, Veral accumulated scrap at a satisfyingly regular pace. After the second dwelling, he found it necessary to deploy another collector cart. Both trailed behind him as he progressed through the residential district. There was little noise to distract him from his task other than the sounds of small animals running for cover at his invasion into their space.

That was until the sound of a small engine caught his attention. Veral paused to listen to it. His processors worked in an attempt to identify the sound and narrow down its direction. He chuckled to himself when he realized what it was. He was hardly concerned with who might be piloting it—they were no match for him. Instead, he was elated at the unmistakable sound of a small engine.

A primitive working engine could be highly profitable. It sounded rough and unstable, but that mattered little to him. He did not want it for everyday use. Unfortunately, the noise receded before he could get a lock on it. Veral’s mouth twisted into a frown, his good humor evaporating as the object of his interest eluded him.

His vibrissae buzzed around him with irritation as he stepped around a building, the short mandibles of his jaw distorting to reflect his ill humor. He turned his head to call Krono when a smooth club struck him on the side of his head. White light shot through his vision and he roared, the sound nearly drowned out by a terrified scream.

Veral spun around, his vibrissae whirling and snapping in a frenzy as he searched for his attacker. The dorashnal snarled and would have rushed forward to attack, but Veral stopped him with a single command.

He wanted to take this blood himself.

He felt a rush through his systems of unmistakable excitement for battle. His enemy wouldn’t be much of a challenge, but he was curious what this planet had to offer.

A small pale alien like the one he’d seen in the glass faced him. It didn’t have scales, vibrissae, or any manner of external protection except a long, useless mane of soft filaments. It looked up at him with wide eyes as it gripped an insignificant, smooth club in its hands, swinging it with a bravado that was almost admirable even though its pale blue irises were ringed with white in a manner that he suspected betrayed its terror. His chest expanded, his muscles stretching in a demonstration of his power. As anticipated, it backed away from him. He snarled threateningly down at it.

The small being shook their head and muttered a guttural series of words in their soft, lilting voice as they dropped their arms and scrambled back. His translators worked to adjust and connect it to one of the languages his vessel had picked up and decoded as it continued to speak under its breath. He decided to refrain from killing the fragile thing for the time being. Its language could be useful if he ran into any more of the species and found himself needing to question them. He waited and allowed it to put distance between them.

“…fuck this. No crumbling piece of shit house is worth getting myself killed for. Have at it, asshole.”

He did not understand all the words, but he frowned all the same. He suspected the inferior creature was trying to insult him. Infuriated, he let out a bass bellow that made the alien cringe and flee. He considered giving chase, his blood ramped for the kill, but he was distracted by a series of long, mechanical bangs. Veral slipped through the shadows, heading for the source of the commotion. Sliding between the metallic remains of what he could only surmise had once been primitive land transports, Veral hissed and waited for his new prey to appear.

When they came into view, they appeared remarkably distinct from the alien that he’d seen before. Larger, rougher, and heavier in build, several beings were clustered on the back of a dull red vessel, its coloration badly peeling. Two of them made loud noises as they lifted long weapons in the air, firing projectiles. Veral curled his lip at the wastefulness as his processors tracked the moving transport and he activated his telescopic vision in his right eye to get a closer look at his quarry. Two were wiry, and the third was of thicker girth. All three had dirty filaments sprouting from their faces which did nothing to improve their overall appearance.

“Right! Go right, Frank!” the one leaning forward shouted at the one piloting the vessel. “I could swear I just saw her slip between those buildings over there!”

“Shut up, Mike. I can see just fine,” the pilot retorted back, turning a circular steering device sharply.

Another gripped a protrusion between its legs and hooted.

“Hell yeah! We’re going to get a sweet little cunt tonight!”

Veral wondered at the gesture as the vehicle bounced in their rapid approach. Argurma males kept their reproductive civix in that same place, but few species in the cosmos had similar reproductive systems. Even in the unlikelihood that their species shared this trait, it still didn’t lend Veral any understanding to the gesture or enlighten him as to their purpose.

Not that it mattered. They were prey, and he was certain that they might have something of value upon them.

As the transport closed in on his location, he could scent them clearly. All three of them reeked of sour drink, sweat, and rotten food that seemed to be splattered on their coverings. They behaved more like beasts as far as Veral was concerned, more so as their volume seemed to increase as they closed in on their prey.

He would kill them swiftly so that he wouldn’t be forced to touch them overly much. He didn’t desire to clean their filth off of him.

His muscles tensed, springing forward as the transport roared by him, his cybernetic-reinforced claws dragging into the metal body of the vehicle. It jerked roughly against him, jolting to the side at the heavy impact of his body, but he clung tight to the frame, his ears and vibrissae flattening against his head.

“What in Sam Hill…?!” one of the aliens barked in surprise.

Digging claws deeper with every move, Veral dragged himself up the side of the transport. The sound of the engine was so loud that it blocked out his hearing almost entirely, but he did not let it concern him. He drew up behind one of them, his nasal cavity closing to assuage the terrible smell, and he lifted a hand to strike. The vehicle rocked as something struck the side dangerously close to his position. He whipped his head around and rattled threateningly as another transport crested a mound of refuse beside them. Lights mounted from the top of the vehicle flashed and were responded to by several others that roared up from all sides of him.

“Holy shit!” a gruff voice bellowed from the vehicle that fired upon him. “Frank! You’ve got a—I don’t know what it is. You have something on your truck!”


Tags: S.J. Sanders Argurma Salvager Science Fiction