The Gardens of Deathworlders: A Blooming Love (Part 117)
Part 117 Complexities (Part 1) (Part 116)
In moments like these, Tens didn't bother with thinking too much about what he was doing. His muscle memory, semi-conscious mind, and subconscious instincts are more than capable of handling this sort of situation. Aim and fire, swing and hit, rip and tear. That's all he needed to do. This is his job, after all. Protecting innocent people from all of the evils this universe can muster. These Hekuiv'trula warforms are no different than any other threat. Their non-sentient nature, lethality, and reckless abandon neither made them special nor particularly capable of taking Tens down. Roughly twelve-hundred years of separation from Earth had not taken the fighting spirit from the Nishnabe or their warriors. And as one of the most naturally gifted warriors of a generation, Tensebwse truly cherished these times when he could really let loose.
To Grompcha, Sinaen, and the other chameleon-raptors onlookers, Tens's masterful display of mech operation was equal parts enchanting and terrifying. They had all seen the horrific speed and mutilating melee attacks of the different Hekuiv'trula warfoms before. Even the larger quadrupedal machines are known to be just as fast as they are deadly. However, none of these early development people had never before seen or heard the metal beasts use their energy and sonic based ranged weapons. Laser shots that missed melted through stone, metal, and flora alike. The few that impacted the active shielding of Tens's mech were either harmless reflected off into the sky or simply canceled out by shimmering rainbow hexagons. The sound of sonic weapons shook the ground, forcing people to cover their ears, but was rendered otherwise harmless by the time it reached the Many Holes Village. This battle, though insignificant by Tens's perspective, looked to these feathered theropods like a clash between titans of biblical proportion.
For the few minutes the fighting lasted, no one in the Many Holes Village uttered a single word, made any gestures, or flashed their feathers to communicate. By the time Grompcha and Sinaen had run in town shouting for everyone to hide somewhere safe, the scout alarms had already rang, and most people were hunkering down. However, seeing the Tens's mech leap through the air, clearing the central portion of the village in one step while his shielding flashed friendly colors, drew many curious gazes. A slow trickle of onlookers moved in their hideouts so they could witness the mayhem with their own eyes. Once the combat ended with Tens repeatedly smashing his club into the already pulverized head of a particularly stubborn warform, nearly every single member of this village found themselves transfixed by the sight. It wasn't until the vaguely humanoid mech stopped beating the already dead metal beast and crouched down that anyone from the Many Hills Village got the nerve to question their uninvited but serendipitous guests.
“It has been almost two years, Sinaen.” A male chameleon-raptor of equal size but with a long scar crossing a cloudy eye gently placed a claw-hand on the shoulder of the Chief Scout from the Tall Spire Village. “And while I am glad to see you, my friend, I must ask… What is that metal beast you have brought to our village?”
“It is good to see you as well, Kilchuk. And that… It is already a very long story that only began two days ago.” Sinaen replied while mimicking the gesture while flashing a rather complex pattern and using slightly abnormal tones. “That metal beast has an intelligent mammal inside of it who controls it. He and twenty-one others descended from the sky two days ago, immediately began killing the metal beasts that plagued our village, and now they seem entirely intent on killing every single metal beast everywhere.”
“If I didn't know you so well…” Kilchuk glanced over Sinaen's should to see a strange being covered in metal standing over the smoldering wrecks of evil machines.
“Oh, I'm not done yet! Yesterday, another strange creature came to us. A being that looked exactly like one of us but with feathers made of metal that flowed like water. It claimed to be both a machine and organic. And despite its further claims to the contrary, some in my village believed it may be a spirit, something from the Creator, or maybe even the Creator itself. I, however, am choosing to believe what they have told us is true. They are from a land that is so far away it would take countless generations to reach. The lands we call our homes were once inhabited by people who were all killed by the same metal beasts that torment us. There is so much more the organic machine has tried to tell us, but-”
“The prophecy!” A voice shouted from the small crowd that had gathered around Sinaen and Kilchuk. “Elder Heltha's death-vision was right!”
“What?” Grompcha softly whispered while looking around at all those who were now quickly gathering around.
“Prophecy? Wait! Elder Heltha died?” Sinaen searched his old friend for a solid answer but found the man to be expressing conflicting emotions. “You have my deepest condolences, my friend. But what is this about a death-vision?”
“Yes. She passed onto the next life peacefully six months ago. But before she did…” Kilchuk paused for a moment, his discomfort with this topic clear by the way he glanced back at certain murmuring members of the still gathering crowd. “Well… On her deathbed she claimed to have had a vision sent by the Creator. In it she saw spirits fall from the sky, metal beasts fighting metal beasts, and an emissary of the Creator coming to guide us. Though I am usually the last to put faith in death-visions, what you describe is…”
“Why did the emissary appear in your village first?” A new voice from the now very large crowd shouted.
“An-si-ki, the being made of metal that flows like water, claims it is not spirit, sent by the Creator, or anything special.” As soon as Sinaen made that statement, the murmuring intensified. “I am being entirely truthful to all when I say this. Ansiki claims to be a very old warrior here to kill a hated foe. The metal beasts like the one over there are Ansiki's friends who are here to make the hunt easier and faster. They say they are not here to tell us how to live our lives, only kill the evil metal beasts. And once the evil has been vanquished, they shall leave and never return.”
“But Elder Heltha's death-vision!” A third voice called out, a noticeable ting of anger in their inflection and coloration that was matched by the growing whispers. “Are you saying she lied to us?!?”
“I would never!” The Chief Scout from the Tall Spires Village roared at the crowd and caught the attention of the Nishnabe warrior who was still inspecting his kills. “I knew Elder Heltha to be a good, loving, and honest woman! Tales of her wisdom and compassion are known to all villages. I would never besmirch her name! However… I also know that death-visions can be difficult to interpret. Both by the visioner and the witnesses. These new beings say they are not here with the intention to stay, tell us how to live our lives, or guide us in a literal sense. Perhaps a divinity beyond even their understanding sent them here to inspire us towards something greater than any of us could ever imagine. I do not know. However, just their assurances that we are equal to them, their belief in our capabilities, and their willingness to fight against evil should be enough to put us all on a good path.”
“But how will we know what a good path is without-” Before a somewhat annoyed voice could finish their question, everyone fell silent as people began to notice the metal covered mammal approaching them.
“You all choose your own good path.” Tens’s translator did its best but he feared it wouldn't be able to properly contextualize the meaning of his advice. “My grandmother told me a person will only know a good path once they have been following it for a long time. No one can tell a person if their path is good or bad. They need to learn from the bad, witness the good with their own eyes, and do what feels correct. Ansiki may say more, but that is my only advice.”
“Are you really here to kill the metal beasts?” Kilchuk took a step towards Tens while raising his head as high as it could go. “And nothing else?”
“Yes.” The devices mounted to the Nishnabe warrior's chest armor had no problem getting that confirmation across. “Tell me where they come from and I will go kill them. Once they are all dead, my people and I will leave to let your people find your own good path.”
/------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The past couple days of this mission had been surprisingly enjoyable for Captain Marzima. Despite spending far more time standing around and impatiently observing non-Ascended dromaeosaurids, she had experienced some of the most challenging fights of her career. Fully functional Hekuiv'trula warforms, regardless of their age, had proven to be excellent prey. Especially when they attacked in groups. This was the combat she had been hoping to see. An exercise of her honed martial prowess against a worthy foe. The fact that she was alone when killing up to a dozen of the dastardly machines at once only served to reinforce her building confidence. Singularity Entity 139-621 had even kept their drones back to allow Marz the opportunity to let loose and really show off. And that is exactly what she did every time her mech's sensors detected income hostiles.
Thanks to the countless hours of simulator time, Marzima and every honor guard under her command had no trouble going solo. 139-621 had, of course, already deployed over a hundred drones to provide backup and support if needed. Should the Singularity Entity sense for even a moment that there was the slightest possibility of one of Qui’ztar soldiers being overwhelmed, they would have moved to provide aid. However, such a situation had yet to occur. Every single BD-series mech on this planet had taken on at least ten of the Hekuiv'trula warforms at once without receiving so much as scratch. Even those individuals who preferred to work in pairs or triplets were able to achieve easy victories with whatever weapon loadout they chose to use. Slashes from superheated blades, swings of massive blunt weapons, and the occasional laser or projectile shots proved to be more than enough to overcome overwhelming numbers. Despite the skirmishes being short, never lasting more than a few minutes at a time, everyone fought with undefeatable conviction.
The trade off for these invigorating fights was standing guard at what the Qui’ztar Captain and her soldiers would barely call villages. Even though her species was the most recent to Ascend to the galactic stage, that was nearly thirty thousand years ago. By the time the first of Marzima's ancestors had broken the speed of light barrier, they already had a couple million years of technological development behind them. Being so far removed from living in caves and foraging for survival meant Marz struggled to see these feathers therods as little more than primitives. At least compared to the regal diplomatic envoy of Shiin'tvons she had been assigned to guard a few years ago. The Order of Falling Angels would, of course, do their duty to protect these dromaeosaurids just the same. That was without question. But Marz felt no urge to try to make friends with these early development beings the way Ansiki and Tens had.
“Lieutenant Tensebwse, how's your investigation of the Northern areas fairing?” Captain Marzima's voice entered Tens's comms while he was halfway through chewing a rather large bite of a dried meat ration. “Any luck getting the locals to cooperate?”
“Mmm-yes, Captain mmm-Marzima.” Tens tried choking down his food while responding but the chewiness of the jerky made it difficult. “Mmm-but these ones… Mmm-have some kind of-”
“Are you eating something, Lieutenant?”
“Mmmm-marinated and dehydrated mmm-meat.” After a guttural swallowing sound and a deep breath, Tens's voice returned to normal through the comms. “But, uh, as I was saying, this village I'm at right now has some kind of prophecy or something like that about us coming to kill the Hekuiv'trula warforms. Ansiki is talking to them right now to get intel but… Well… They're getting distracted. They also keep trying to bring me fruits and roasted bugs as offerings.”
“Wow…” The sudden shift in tone in Marz's voice caused the Nishnabe warrior to squint his eyes in anticipation of what would come next. “Must be nice…”
“It is really nice.” Tens knew Qui’ztar sarcasm when he heard it and was well equipped to counter it. “And so are these people. They're surprisingly smart.”
“Are they really, though?”
“Have you tried talking to them yet?”
“Of course not! How would I even attempt to do so?”
“You do know that Ansiki has updated the translators built into our armor and mechs, right? You can literally just talk to them.”
“Seriously?” Marzima's voice once again shifted, but this towards a less condensing inflection.
“Yes!” Tens allowed himself to reply with a slightly noticeable hint of frustration. “They have three primary ways of communicating, Captain. Words, gestures, and color changes. From what I can tell, the words and gestures are interchangeable like with the different forms of galactic common. The colors, on the other hand, sort of act like conjugations for a lot of different things from emotional context to time, space, perspective, and even animacy. That's where the translations are still struggling. Other than that, we seem to be able to talk to each other fairly easily.”
“I, uh… I didn't realize that.” From the relative comfort of her digital control environment, the Qui’ztar Captain turned her gaze so she could get a good view of the small group conversing with one of 139's drones. Upon doing so, subtitles written in galactic common began to appear on her HUD. And to her utter shock, she discovered that 139 and the elder feathered theropods were debating divinity, the guiding hand of the universe, and whether or not more advanced beings have an inherent responsibility to guide other lesser developed peoples. For a few moments, she got lost reading through the slightly garbled but deep conversation taking place just fifty meters away. Though Marz didn’t consider herself to be particularly spiritual, or even interested in the topic, she could appreciate the intelligence required to ponder such complex concepts. These supposed primitives were even putting forward points that 139 was struggling to counter. Specifically in regard to what exactly the Singularity Entity could tell them about the universe and their place in it. What finally snapped her out of her staring was the sound of chewing coming through her still open comms. “Are you still eating, Tensebwse?!?”
“Mm-Yes!” Tens half shouted with his words somewhat muffled by the mouthful of dried fruit rations he quickly swallowed. “I need like four thousand calories a day to keep up my strength and figure! Looking this good isn’t easy, Marzima. And when was the last time you ate, huh?”
“I ate a half-day’s ration an hour ago.” As Marz snarkily replied while exiting her virtual control environment so she could open a small storage compartment in her cockpit. After hearing Tens eating, she just couldn’t stop herself from grabbing a snack. “And speaking of food, should I request Haervria send down a shuttle with a mess hall module tomorrow? I’m sure everyone would appreciate a good, warm meal after sleeping in their mechs for two nights in a row.”
“We would need to use delivery drones so everyone can get food without leaving their post. But it shouldn't be too-”
Tens suddenly fell silent as both his and Marzima's HUDs lit with warning indicators. Since making planetfall yesterday, more and more Hekuiv'trula warforms had been emerging in larger and larger groups. Those first two to attack in the vicinity of the Tall Spires Village had been the first of seemingly growing waves of dastardly machines bent on eradicating sapient life. As smaller groups had failed against the bulk of the BDs acting as a perfectly synchronized combat unit and the mechs began to spread out, the attacks only grew more frequent and intense. Bipedal and quadrupedal machines sprang forth from caves connecting the long buried metropolis to surface in patterns the Angels had been specifically trained to counter. It seemed every hour or so that someone would be reporting contact with the enemy. However, this was the first time that every single mech in the unit had detected approaching hostile at the same time.
“All Angels!” Marz opened her comms and shouted to everyone at once. “Prepare for battle! Expect contact on all fronts!”
Posted May 3, 2025, 6:40 PM UTC