We Need a Deathworlder!

“We ready for war?” Thorn inquires as he adjusts his trusty duster.

“Cargo loaded, armaments calibrated and engines tuned.” Devin reports as he steps down the Bust’s Blunder’s entry ramp.

“As ready as we’ll ever be then.” The older man nods.

Devin shrugs shallowly before looking over to where the Kwip-chap rests.

“So… she take it well?” he asks.

Thorn lifts his eye tufts and blows out air.

“If we make it out in one piece there’s definitely gonna be more talkin’ and sort’n. But yeah, she took it in stride.” Thorn answers.

Sighing Devin opens up the ship’s diagnostic system for the millionth time to check through all the systems for anything needing to be addressed.

“Good. So uhm, can I be straight with you about something boss?” the man asks with slouched shoulders.

“Skeptical about the plan?” Thorn guesses as he walks up past the younger man, lightly tapping a fist to his shoulder.

“That’s… actually an understatement. Look, I’m going to do what everyone needs me to, but… Seeing that no matter how this squares out, the universe is gonna get invaded anyway. Sure, maybe we postpone the date for a generation or two if we’re lucky. But I can’t help but feel a sense of… pointlessness? Especially now, seeing we’re dealing with assholes that can suddenly bring endless armies of giant crabs into existence across the universe… I can’t believe I just said that sentence, but that’s the fucking reality we’re living right now. Like I said, I’m here for trying, it’s just…” Devin trails off as he follows Thorn back into the ship.

The cyborg grunts a chuckle while he wanders in. He looks up and gives the interior of his small old warship a reminiscing gander.

“Yep, it sucks and it’s bleak as all hell.” he initially says with a tilting nod, “Every person chooses their own path in the forest they were placed in. For us, it just so happens that our forest is burning and we know it. Every path forward is terrifying to venture, none being at all ideal or what we would hope to see. Yet the question remains; what are you gonna do? Are you going to flee the flames until the forest is spent? Do you ensure that you drown first, before you burn? Maybe you embrace the flames and hope they accept you as you aid in destroying what once was. Or, perhaps, you big up a fucking bucket and do everything you can fucking do for yourself and everyone else wandering their paths.” Thorn then turns to look at his subordinant directly, his cyan eye blinking off so that Deven could only focus on the older man’s intact eye, “There is a point, Devin. And it ain’t about the bigger picture, because the bigger you get the less defined a point becomes. What you need to concern with yourself with, is that no matter where you find yourself, you make your choices and live with them for as long as you’re alive. It’s your life and yours to live. That’s all ‘point’ anyone should need. It’s fine to question yourself, but you’re gonna have to commit. Either pick up a bucket with me, or go do what you’re gonna do.”

Devin rolled his eyes and deactivated his datapad.

“Really embracing that ‘space cowboy’ moniker, huh? Shoving wishy-washy shit into something you can just state plainly? You were bullied a lot in high school weren't ya?” he replied, as though tired of the older man’s bullshit, but he couldn’t fully hide his smirk.

“Fuck no, I was straight edge average schmuck in school. I’ve just been giving less of a shit about fitting a pre stamped mold the older I get. Been working out so far and I’ve never been happier, so why stop?” Thorn points out with a shrug, “Not that I need to defend myself from you. You know all about breaking free of a mold that you didn’t fit.” he chuckles before heading off to the bridge.

Devin watches his boss leave and once he was alone let out a long sigh.

“He’s right, you know.” a voice from behind him says, causing him to jump in surprise.

“Brandy… fuck.” Devin utters.

“Sorry, got nosey.” the woman giggles as she enters the cargo bay from a rear storage room, “No one’s gonna want to see you go, but no one’s gonna stop you.” she says in a much more serious tone.

“I’m not going anywhere. Just going through a crisis.” the man assures.

“That’s fair, everyone is.” Brandy replies.

“Even you? Miss abandoned university to work in a volunteer humanitarian group?” Devin asks.

Brandy takes a moment to think of an answer to that as she picks up a smaller crate to relocate.

“Sure. This is all unprecedented scary shit.” she says after moving the crate, “But like Thorn said, I’m making my choice on what I’m going to do about it. I’m no stranger to that, and I don’t think you are either.”

Devin narrows his brow confused.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Bandy crosses her arms and gives him a ‘really?’ look..

“Think about it, hun. Everyone on this ship, what do we all have in common?” she quizzes.

“We… are really good at catching criminals for money?” he replies with a shrug.

Brandy shakes her head.

“We were all brave enough to make the same choice; ‘I’m going to live my life, my way. Not how others want me to’. I left everything behind because I felt a calling and I acted on it. It’s what I wanted to do, and I don’t regret it one bit. Troy could have stayed a pit fighter, scrapping for decent credits until he eventually became a bloody puddle on the floor. Instead, he took up our offer. Not because because it was ‘easier’ work, but because he wanted to be around people he likes. You? You were going places. Clips of your ten year old robot-champion self still circulate the NET. And yet here you are, dealing with a bunch of weirdos on the daily in a not-so safe line of work. You have your reasons for being here, and I think those reasons are why you're probably staying. Facing death as often as we do, whether it be a crime ring boss ambushing us in an alley or a galactic-wide invasion from a malevolent force, there’s not much more in personal loss. The grand stakes may be higher, but all that’s all the more reason to stick to our guns. Just promise me something?” she says.

“Sure?” Devin replies.

“Don’t just ‘try’, try.” Brandy orders with significant weight put on the last word.

Devin reaches an arm up and scratches the back of his head.

“Didn’t that green puppet in Simone’s star wars movie wisely say ‘There is no try’?” he chuckles.

“Grand Master of the jedi order, Yoda -don’t pretend you don’t know his name, you're the biggest movie buff out of all of us- he said, ‘Do or do not, there is no try’. By which he means ‘Commit in spite of failure’ in the context that when Luke said ‘try’ he implied an anticipation of failure. So he presented advice in a manner Luke needed to hear and could best understand in that moment. When I’m telling you to ‘try’, it’s the same thing: You think we’re ultimately going to fail, or that success means little. Going along with us and contributing is one thing, but I need you to promise me that you won’t stop trying once we’re committed. Please, commit with us, regardless of how it’s gonna shake out.” Brandy corrects.

Devin laughs.

“You all are weirdos… but yeah… I see what you mean. Thank you, Grand Master Brandy. I’ll commit all I got.”

“Ass kick, we will!” Brandy cheers in an attempt at the green puppet’s voice.

-

“Dearest…” Nodrin says as the Gratt duo finish packing everything they’ll need while away from the Kwip-chap.

“Yes my love?” Meeki replies.

“I will follow without question once the spirit to continue moving finds you again… however.. After we help save the stars, can we make time to visit our world? Just for a short while. I would really like to see it in person again, especially after knowing we’ve given more time to thrive.” they request.

Meeki presses herself up against her bondmate and weaves her tail with theirs tightly.

“Of course. We have our whole lives to explore the stars, we can visit our people any time you wish dearest.” Meeki assures in loving chitters, “We can bring Troy and show him off!” she cackles.

Nodrin chitters wordlessly back, rubbing their head against Meeki’s in sincere appreciation.

“We will all see our world again.” they eventually say with conviction.

“We will.” Meeki agrees as she squeezes her bondmate, “We will see it many more times and bathe in the embrace of our jovial ancestors. I promise.” she reassures.

“You’re my emerging sun over the horizon…” Nodrin says softly as they squeeze back, “Warming and bright, you color my world every time I gaze upon you and your radiance.”

“And you’re my night sky, calming and yet inspiring.” Meeki replies just as softly, “With every step I take you’re always there, even when I’m not looking up. You make me believe in my dreams, both while in slumber and awake. You’re my dearest, my first love, my forever family. Thank you, love, for following me all this way.”

“And thank you, for taking me along, sharing in your adventures. Nothing will depart our entwined spirits as we will be together in every aspect for the rest of our lives.” Nodrin finishes.

The two stand there and share a long moment together, enjoying it to its fullest for what could be the last chance.

Although they both vow to themselves and their unbreakable bond that it won’t be.

-

Simone steps back into the housing unit, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Good news. Bree, come with me you need to be in the know. Where’s Chak?” she reports to the room as she rushes to find her wife.

Before she can waste too much time searching, Jackie points to the room where the Cali moved to.

Giving the man a thankful nod she hurried in while guiding Bree behind her to catch the Princess in the middle of an important screen call between several Central and FSA representatives.

“-struggling enough as it is to consider spending the necessary forces you are requesting for. I’m sorry, Chakalata’Motaas this moment of unprecedented crisis unfortunately places previous agreements on hold. Perhaps the Watath could afford forces in our stead? They have been the most successful in combating these-” an apologetic Z’ah’tuck is saying before Simone cuts in.

“You will be able to stick to your agreement. And more. All of you.” the redhead informs in a declaration, causing the entire call to quiet down in surprise, “The Terran Union would like to submit an immediate emergency vote among the current FSA to accept another species member.”

The Terran man representing the FSA, titled as Admiral Solberg in the call, furrowed his thick brow. He’s an older man with long tied back graying blonde hair with a matching braided beard.

“Simone Thatch…” he said in cautious confusion, “I’m afraid you don’t hold that authority.”

“I don’t. But the President does, she has just been updated and she approves of the vote. You should be informed of such at any second now.” Simone replies with stern respect, “However I am the currently acting liaison of the species at hand. They have the strength and numbers to help all of you, Central included.”

A Noxii scoffs out of sheer disbelief.

“What possible species could you be referring to? Central would know of such a force.” she questions.

“Oh, I think some parts of Central are well aware of their existence. Which is why they’d like to join the FSA first and foremost. They are called Vermis.” Simone responds before uploading a prepared list of data explaining the nature of Vermis for all present to consider.

“A hivemind…” the Z’ah’tuck utters.

“A parasitic one…” the Mikk representative noted in great concern, “And you wish to unleash it across our worlds!? We wish to quell an infestation not replace it with a potentially worse one!”

Simone steps forward, prepared for such an accusation.

“They won’t. If that’s what they wanted, Vermis would have done it already. They are a living, sentient, sapient, space-faring species who desires peace and mutual cooperation. By Central law, they are to be treated like any other people of the stars.” she says, scanning over all the faces before landing on the Noxii, “Right? Or are we quarantining people who haven’t attacked Central representatives? Because it looks like it went so well with the Malchite.”

“The Malchite have only expressed hostility, we do not consider such actions lightly. The quarantine isn’t invasive. It will only remain there until they are receptive to peaceful negotiations.” she counters.

“Because an entire species of people are a monolith right? Every one of their hatchlings born wishes demise to Central.” Simone rolled her eyes, “Maybe if their introduction to the stars wasn’t rushed like it was we’d be in a very different situation right now. But we’re not, and currently their species are being used like a bioweapon. And we all have a chance to do things right this time with Vermis. They are willing to help and then completely leave your worlds in exchange for recognition and membership with the FSA. And if things progress well, they will be open to joining Central in some fashion. That’s it. They are self-sufficient and have so much to offer the stars. Including its defense against supreme threats.” She alludes, looking across the faces of those in the know.

The atmosphere in the call shifts dramatically as many muted side discussions commence.

-

“Ma’am! An unknown vessel just dropped out of FTL, danger close to the atmosphere!” A naval Mikk officer informed their Captain standing proud on the flagship bridge of the planetary defense fleet.

“Prepare interceptors and planetary defense cannons!” The Captain orders immediately, “Can we identify it? Where is it all going?”

“It’s… it’s already falling apart ma’am. Scans are inconclusive but show that all the fragments are packed with life. They are distributing behind enemy lines… scratch that, they are heading right for the centers of the Malchite’s overrun territory.

The Captain’s facial tentacles twist together in a moment of dread.

“What’s going on!?” she utters, trying to make sense of all this additional rampant chaos.

“Ma’am, the cannons and interceptors have been called off. By direct order of the Admiralty.” a comm officer reports.

“Is this a bombardment…?” the Captain questioned.

As if to answer her, an esteemed Admiral of the Mikk nation comes on screen before her.

“Do not engage the arriving forces. They are reinforcements tasked to quell the infestation. Sending relevant information now.”

The Captain’s shock deepens, but that doesn’t stop her from opening up a screen at her side to read the new intel.

“This… this is-”

-

“-unbelievable…” the young Watath soldier says in awe as he watches living asteroid-like objects fall from the sky and crash down in the distant waves of his home oceans, only adding to the apocalyptic sight of the thunderous storm above the great submerged battlefield that surrounded one of their great floating cities.

His plates clink under his fashioned armor, and his grip on the standard issue concussive spear slightly loosens.

“New orders from up high!” the commander hisses over a nasty strike of lightning out to all the prepped warriors, “Our newly arrived allies will accept collateral damage of their forces! However, unless you have no other choice do NOT fire your concussive shots in their denser masses! Focus on the enemies yet to be engaged!”

The young soldier grips his weapon tightly again, taking in the intel like his life depends on it.

From above several steaking aerial ships soar across the raging seas, firing dozens of inhabited pod-shaped armored submersibles directly down to aid in reinforcing sections of the battlefield below.

The commander raises a grasper upwards.

“Steel your sails! No wave of destruction like this has been known to our home since the days of myth and legend! Arise warriors of Sahssas! For today our actions write the chants and songs of those who sail after us! Today, you are the legends! Sail to battle, warriors of Sahssas! SAIL TO VICTORY OR SAIL TO THE GREAT FLEET IN THE TIDES BEYOND!”

With hundreds of other soldiers on this deployment ship and tens of thousands of other accompanying ships, the young soldier hisses out in chant as he dives into the waters and swiftly swims alongside his fellows to their ordered destination.

The taste of the waters are already heavily tainted by mass death. Bits and chunks of chitin and flesh float upward, swarmed by clouds of small scavengers who have never known such a feast.

The soldier’s display lights up just in time to scan into the growing murk of battle, seeing the section he and his comrades have to reinforce suddenly collapse from the enemy's onslaught. And the mindless hungry hordes naturally take advantage of the release of pressure. Floods of Malchite break free and swiftly move to attack in resulting flanks to other defensive segments.

Thankfully, Watath are far swifter under the waves.

“Firing lines! Halt their progress! Charging lines, move in upon the order!” an order comes in through the comms.

Fear and dread takes hold of the young soldier, knowing he’s tasked within a charging line. However, until the order to move in is given he and the others like him move into position and aim their concussive spears alongside the firing lines.

In the patch he finds himself in, he takes aim and opens fire into nearby masses of crustaceans. Their chitin is impressive, certainly comparable to being completely coated with Watath back plates. However, that hardly mattered as the waves of intense walls of concussive force plow over them. Their exoskeletons withstand the punishment well, but their scrambling insides are not so lucky.

Once feral crab bodies in mass stun into stillness as fluids leak from their faces and between segments of chitin. The young Watath soldier alone sees dozens, hundreds perhaps thousands of deceased foes pile in the comparatively small area he finds himself defending. Yet although the efforts prove successful in halting the advance and even push it back, the masses of enemies show no sign of thinning or slowing down.

Eventually, the charge order is given.

Mentally thanking his mother for her ultimate loving sacrifice that brought him into existence he also hopes to make her proud when he meets her in the tides beyond. The soldier then steels himself and swims forward with the others designated to do so.

Still firing he and his comrades forces the enemies further back like a massive broom of death sweeping the ocean floor.

As the defensive segment is gradually reclaimed and restored, He starts to swim over the bodies of the dead, both of the invading forces and those of his own people. Many Watath torn apart and partially eaten. Yet hardly any seem they went out not fighting to the bitter end. Puncture marks and remnants of fangs cover many crustacean shells, some even seem to have been successful in injecting vengeful venomous wrath.

Despite the horrific carnage, the soldier decides to take in the pride of his people’s bravery and warrior’s spirit. He’s confident that each and every one was easily guided into the tides beyond. If he is to fall as well, he will do them proud too.

After hours of conflict, he does his part to hold the line and waits loyally for further orders.

But he doesn't expect the orders to be a full on charge from all defensive segments. As he prepares with his comrades for the final order another soldier calls out and points to distant strange clouds. At first the young soldier believes it to be more savangers, but the movements are different. These clouds are more… intelligent, decisive, and attacking both the living and dead Malchite. Eventually he even sees clear corpses of Malchite arising and attacking their still living brethren.

It would be horrific, if it isn’t so glorious.

“Remember, avoid firing into large ally clusters!” he shouts to those also in shock around him.

His nearby comrades jolt back into action and further spread the reminder around before the final order comes to fully reclaim these seas, and the city nearby.

“First wave move! Move, move-”

-

“-move… keep moving… keep moving…” the Z’ah’tuck teenager whimpers to herself as she flees through the dense jungle that nestles around her small home city.

A city that has just recently fallen to the monsters from below. Soldiers and warriors were protecting rushing city-wide evacuations. The teen and her pack family were ambushed just before they could make it to safety, and only she managed to get away in the chaos. Running and running she found a way out of the city, but it was unfortunately somewhere the warriors have yet to set up.

In her arms, she holds onto the warm unhatched egg containing her younger brother. He’s still months away from hatching and she grabbed him when her mother fell from… something very bad happening…

The monsters…

She stops atop a diagonal tree trunk and turns her head to give a panicked look back through the jungle behind her.

Breathing heavily it’s then she notices that her developing mane of blue feathers had been partially roughly sheared by something that had at some point successfully grabbed her, but the fragile feather gave way before she could be lifted from the ground.

She can’t bring herself to recall when it might have happened in her running away, and isn’t even given the time to form the intensely growing rustling and crackling from behind her. The snapping of wood, the tearing of flora and screeches of perishing wildlife come at her like an approaching wall.

As the terrified teenager just starts to catch sight of endless monsters behind the trees she continues fleeing as fast as she can manage while carrying such a heavy thing for her.

The red vertically striped egg of her brother is just a bit bigger than her head, but weighs at least a third of her own scale.

“Don’t worry Zronaz… the monsters won’t get you… I promise… “ she vows in gasps, full well knowing her own chances of survival would be far better without what’s cradled in her arms.

“Your sister is… going to protect you now… you’ll grow up big and strong… and find your own pack… “ she continues to speak as the thunderous wall behind her only becomes louder and louder.

A sudden excited feral roaring confirms that she is spotted and the pursuing hunt increases in veracity..

“I promise to be a good sister… I promise we won’t squabble too much… father taught me how to hunt crazzoz lizards… I’ll teach you too… the perfect time to do it is… just when the sun starts to set.” She tries to keep calm, but her voice is laced with great distress.

She can now feel the ground shake constantly, and everything around is shaking. She can’t even hear her own thoughts from the hungry carnage behind her, still she hopes her brother can hear her now hyper-paced voice.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, they might think you’re just a rock, you’ll be okay…”

She suddenly breaks into a small clearing and is at first thankful for far fewer obstacles and a boost of speed, but from the other end she sees more of the monsters erupting towards her. These being even more horrific and twisted than the ones behind her.

Her spirit broken, she collapses and does the only thing she can do. Cover the egg with her own body in a protective hunch and wait for the end.

A tidal wave of worming creatures envelops her from ahead.

But she feels no sting of bites, or burrowing of claws. They simply traverse over and around her, even actively avoiding her muzzle and face

The feral roaring behind her twists into screeches of agony and pain.

Not out of bravery, but mostly shocked confusion, the young Z’ah’tuck lifts her head and sees the worm-monsters ignore her as prey completely. There are also crab-monsters lagging behind the tidal wave of worms. Though many if not most of these ones are missing arms and legs yet keep going past her unbothered by their injuries.

Turning her head in a near 180, she sees the worm-monsters were fighting the screeching ones. It’s immediately clear that the conflict is of no substantial contest. The feral living monsters attempted to tear apart and devour as if they know nothing else, but that merely causes their undoing. As the worm-infested flesh is consumed it takes only mere moments before the devourer becomes the one eaten from the inside out.

The worms… aren’t monsters? The monsters are their prey!?

The teen Z’ah’tuck tries to get up to move, but her limbs are too exhausted to comply. So she sits there as she watches the battle of consumption unfold, questioning if she’s still truly still alive to be watching so absurd.

As the battle is pressed deeper into the jungle and out of direct line of sight the teen perks up at the sound of something new approaching. Yet upon seeing it, she has no clue how to feel.

It’s a construct, like a machine, but made out of rough rock-like organic matter. It walks on two legs and has two simple crasping limbs. Its cranium is completely smoothed out as though meant to be a blank slate of a form.

She watches it walk right up to her. Pulling her brother in closer she let out a threatening snarl at it, warning it of a capability she didn’t have.

In response, it slowly bends its knees into a squat. The form especially reminds her a lot of the Terrans she’s seen on the NET.

“You are safe.” It reassures in the teen’s native language. “Do you wish to remain here for soldiers to come, or would you like us to take you to them? Taking you would be much faster.” the thing’s voice, again like a robot is constructed but the nature of the construction sounds the furthest from mechanical or digital in origin.

The Z’ah’tuck girl looks the thing up and down skeptically, but then turns to look at the results of the timely rescue.

“Okay, but my brother stays with me.” she replies in a small hoarse voice, “Who are you?” she asks.

“We are Vermis, we are a friend.” the thing says before its form shifts and cracks, reconstructing into a more Z’ah’tuck body plan, but only vaguely, “And your brother may remain with you.”

Carefully the construct picks up the girl in a cradling fashion, while she herself cradles the egg. Then, it turns into a different direction and starts to move.

Sensing no danger from this being, the teenager finally allows herself to relax her tense muscles. Like a wave, mental exhaustion starts to take hold.

“My name is Zreekip… this is my brother… Zronaz… he won’t hatch for a while… but he’ll be safe… I’ll be sure of it…” she says on the verge of passing out.

“He’s lucky to have you as his sister, Zreekip. Now rest, it’s well earned.”