Drifter

Trippy music washed across Eli’s mind as he came out of hyperspace. A magenta sun bathed eleven planets in its strange light. He set course for the fourth world. An orange sphere came into view. This was where he had been hired to take a shipment of supplies.

As he got closer, dots of other colors became visible. These were the failed attempts at terraforming, carried out by a dozen different species. Now there was only a lone trade station. When he reached high orbit, Eli hailed the little outpost. No response was given.

Low orbit, the planet took up most of the viewscreen. Mountains and the dry remains of what had once been great oceans took shape. Scars from asteroid strikes could be made out. Another attempt to raise the station failed.

Eli started the atmospheric entry sequence. The mottled orange turned into endless fields of stone, broken up by canyons and mountain ranges. Soon, he spotted the little settlement, a cluster of boxy shapes. Still no response.

The final approach. Now the outpost’s layout was clear. Eli was able to identify residential structures, storage areas, research facilities, and a group of landing pads. All of it was linked by tube ways. Even as he sat the ship down, the coms stayed silent.

No one was on the landing pad or in the little terminal. Eli thought about bringing a rifle and vest but decided that it would be more appropriate to just stick to his shield belt and sidearm. Afterall, they were probably just hungover or something.

Eli walked through the place’s primary storage bay. There were stacks of provisions and equipment. He noticed that a group of crates had been broken open. They bore warning signs which demanded that people keep their distance.

Near total silence as he walked down corridors and through tube ways. His breathing began to drown out the faint background hum of the equipment that kept the outpost running.

He rounded a corner. A body lay sprawled on the floor. A pool of lilac colored blood had spread out from it. Eli drew his sidearm and flicked the safety off.

The thing was a brick, even bigger than the M9 he carried during his time in the U.S. army. It had to be, as this weapon had a special function.

The gun was biomechanical. It was hard to tell where the mechanical parts ended, and the organic components began.

An inscription was etched into the slide, “To Count Shingor, in recognition of acts of valor and efficiency in the name of the cause.”

A flash across his mind. The count’s face morphing from arrogance to horror. He failed to draw his sidearm in time, only just managing to clear the holster. Gut shot, slow, agonizing way to die. Was it the same for the Sad’Daki?

And then the look of satisfaction on the Atlath agent’s face as she paid him. More satisfaction later when he joined her in her quarters.

The magazine that was currently loaded into his gun bore the symbol of the Atlath Empire, a top-down view of a flying creature with two sets of wings, a barbed tail, and a crested head. There was also a warning written in Skoga that they were prohibited for private use. These were high-capacity mags, good for sustained combat.

Eli moved forward with slow, deliberate steps. The casualty didn’t move, didn’t appear to be breathing. He reached the body and looked around cautiously, saw no threats. Another man lay against a wall, his stomach slashed open. Yet another body lay nearby, exhibiting savage wounds. Eli looked around again before stooping down to examine the first body’s injuries. He decided that the nasty lacerations were more than likely claw marks. All of them wore jumpsuits which sported the outpost’s seal.

Spent brass on the deck plates, small caliber, about a dozen of them. Someone had gotten some shots off. He located the weapon, one of the fallen had it in a death grip. The slide was locked back, meaning that he had emptied the whole mag. Had he missed? Had any dead or wounded been carried away? Other than a preference for melee attacks, he still had no clue who or what was behind these killings.

One thing was for sure, he needed to call for backup. The system he was currently in had a provisional government on the third planet. They had a few patrol craft that could come and help sort things out. He just needed to get back to Cavalier. And while he was there, he’d grab a bigger weapon and his body armor, maybe a few other toys, even the playing field a little.

He turned around and took off down the corridor. Luckly, the signage was clear. He wouldn’t have any trouble getting back to the hangar.

Down a tunnel and back into the cargo bay. And there it was, the cause of the problem. A dozen large beasts looked at him and let out a salvo of savage roars.

The creatures’ hides were such a dark shade of black that at certain angles hints of blue could be perceived. They moved on all fours, and yet, the front arms were tipped with clawed hands. Spiked tails curled and coiled behind them. Their mouths were masses of long, gleaming razors. And the eyes, glowing like embers under a starless sky.

Eli took aim and squeezed the trigger. The feeling of the slide slamming back and then chambering another round as it slams shut again. The sound collided with his ears, the echoes that traveled down the corridor drowned out by the subsequent shots.

Rounds struck the charging creatures, piercing their hides. Blood vomited forth from the wounds. And yet, they kept coming.

He grabbed a fresh magazine off of his belt, double-stacked hollow points. He emptied it into the horrors as he fell back. A few fell, letting out cries of agony and rage as they died. This did nothing to slow the survivors.

His last mag, these were larger rounds, specially made to pierce armor. He heard a faint hum, felt the unknown mechanisms move as the internal parts adjusted to fit a different type of magazine and a different size ammunition. The completion of this process was indicated by a satisfying click.

The muzzle flash was long, jagged, expanded out like a ring at the tip of the barrel. The fantastic punch of the recoil. The mighty thunder of the report. One fell stone dead. The others kept chasing him, bleeding and drooling. Liquified guts and hunks of shattered bone exploded out the backs of the creatures. Six moments of extasy and glory, and then the mag was dry.

And they still came. Eli dropped the empty mag and sprinted down the corridor, taking the corner, pushing off the wall and into another dead sprint.

A bloody body splayed across the floor. She had died fighting, but there was still a mag left on her belt. Eli dove, sliding over the deck plates. He reached out, tearing the mag off of the dead woman’s belt. As he jumped back up, he slammed it into the well and hit the switch that made the weapon reconfigure itself.

He emptied this mag. Another fell, then another. He dashed around a corner. None followed. And that was when he spotted it. The hull of a spent shotshell lay there in the middle of the hallway, red on grey. Someone had a shotgun. With a shotgun, he could lay waste to his foes.

Eyes darting from the floor in front of him to his six, Eli jogged down the corridor. A trail of ejected shells led him around corners and through a workshop. Even as he spotted the body of the man that had wielded the shotgun, he heard one of the creatures closing in on him.

A broken scattergun lay beside the headless corpse. One shell left on the sling, one last chance. Eli fought to work it into the chamber of his pistol as the killer beast appeared. The weapon expanded its mechanisms as far as they would go. The creature closed the distance.

It finally accepted the shell. Eli closed the slide and pointed it at the creature. He fired pointblank, the pellets shattering teeth before blasting out the back of its skull.

More growling, coming from a nearby corridor. It sounded like there was only one left. Only one left, that was one more than he had ammo for.

Eli looked at the body, inspecting it for anything that could give him an advantage. Nothing. He could find no weak points or vulnerabilities.

More growling. He took a look around, hoping to spot another source of ammunition. The outpost’s dining facility was nearby. Maybe he could find a knife or meat cleaver. That’s when the idea came.

He reached into the pocket where he always kept the food scanner. Making a mental note to remember to reattune it to himself if he survived, he held down the switch that reset the device. When it indicated that it had been zeroed out, he set about the task of calibrating it to the creature.

A thin needle popped out of the device. He found a softer area on the beast’s hide and stuck the needle in. Then he ran one of the sensor pads across the inside of the thing’s terrible maw.

The growling sounded closer. Lights on the gadget turned on and off, forming a pattern, the sequence getting faster and faster until it suddenly came to a halt. A wave of relief when the device displayed the symbol for complete.

Eli jumped up and darted into the dining hall, shutting the door behind him. A quick glance at the control panel, he flicked the switch that shut off the automatic function. He sprinted past the remains of several half-eaten beings and straight into the kitchen. He was very disappointed to see that it had big open windows that exposed it to the dining area.

Quick and efficient, he searched for anything that looked like it might pique the interest of the creature. He ripped open the door to a walk-in freezer, found rows of meat, slabs and massive cuts of the stuff. He scanned a few, found something that the device said was edible. It was some kind of flying creature. The head was still attached, its beady eyes locked open. The thing’s serrated beak looked menacing.

The problem was it likely wouldn’t want to eat it in the state that it was currently in.

He hauled the frozen bird out of the freezer and slammed it down on the nearest stove top. He was looking for a pan when he spotted something that he guessed acted like a microwave. The sound of the beast slamming into the door. It would have to do. He set it for maximum power and started the search for the next thing he would need.

The door began to buckle as he methodically scanned every barcode on everything in the place’s well stocked spice rack. No luck.

The creature forced its way through the remains of the badly damaged door as he frantically checked a cabinet full of sauces. The only thing that came up was something that would make it sick, but nothing lethal.

Lines of drool fell from the creature’s mouth as it stalked across the dining area, splattering on the simple patterns of the tiles. Eli kept low, opened the door of a drink fridge. One by one he scanned barcodes. One by one, the device gave him the symbol for safe.

The thing stepped closer. It briefly stopped to inspect one of the dead. There was a terrible crunching noise when it carelessly stepped on one of their heads.

Joy when the symbol for deadly poison appeared. Unscrewing the lid, Eli made a beeline for the cooker. He used his artificial hand to pull the steaming bird out. The smell was pleasant enough that he made a mental note that if he survived, he’d see if it was edible.

Grabbing a baster, he dipped it into the bottle and sucked up as much of the liquid as it would hold. He could hear the creature at the kitchen door, and yet, he made sure that he emptied the tube. Eli fought to keep his breathing steady as he dropped the bird in front of the door and ducked behind the nearest counter.

The door swung open. He risked popping a hand up out of cover to grab a long knife. With his other hand, he drew the K-bar that he kept on his belt.

The thing stopped, sniffed at the half-cooked fowl. Eli cautiously peered around the side of the counter.

It took a bite out of the bird, chewed. Eli watched from behind his hiding place, waited for the creature to spit it out.

It swallowed, went in for another bite. Before long the whole thing was gone, bones and all. The second that it was all down, the creature turned and looked dead center at Eli. Something beyond the eyes, pure hunger. This thing only existed to consume. Realizing that he had been caught, Eli stood up. The thing took a few steps forward.

Fuck it.

Eli dashed into range, slashed with both of his blades. They slid across the creature’s hide, opening ghastly wounds. It let out a screech of pain and anger. Eli reared back to take another swing with his K-bar; the thing wrapped a clawed hand around his wrist. He thrust the kitchen knife into the beast’s belly. Another cry of pain. The next thing the human knew, he was sailing like a ragdoll across the room.

Eli hit the back wall, landed in a jumble on top of a pile of boxes. The creature moved forward, the blade still stuck in its belly. The human struggled to get up, kept slipping on the countless bottles and jars that fell out of the broken boxes. He ended up on his back, pointing the tip of the blade at the rapidly advancing creature.

The creature let out a yelp. This was followed by a series of guttural cries. The thing was in total agony. Such was the noises and movements that it made, that Eli started to feel sorry for it. At last, it collapsed. The hunger left its eyes, probably for the first time since it had left the womb.

Eli returned to his ship and called for help. Then he searched for survivors, pump-action at the ready.