Chapter 3 (D2)
In the aftermath of nearly being killed by a lone Terran, Mokvel has the Neanderthal taken on board the ship, but they aren't out of the woods yet...
Previously: The young Neanderthal easily engages the Grey aliens despite their numbers advantage. In his fury he is able to take down some of them but is subdued by a protector’s the stun rifle. Unfortunately that same protector ends up being impaled by the thrown spear before the Terran collapses.
A pain unimaginable that was the only way to describe it. The corpse of his fellow researcher had hit both him and the protector close to him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The crude weapon wielded by the monster had then made light work of another’s protective suit, and in their slowness to react he had finished them off, too. By the time he had got his bearings, the damage had already been done. The human lay flat against the grass. One of the protectors from the other group had succumbed after attempting to subdue him and they now stood in place, impaled by the great spear launched in the Terran's last act of defiance.
The protector that had been with Mokvel looked horrified. “What do we do, Mok?”
"We pull back, secure this one for transport, and keep him sedated. If he wakes up, we are all dead. You saw what he did! Get the med drones and take him on board. Nothing else matters anymore, except him."
The other two researchers had since hurried over to take in the carnage, and with only two remaining protectors, they each took a position covering the tree line. They could not afford any more complacency.
“Was it just him?” the other group’s protector asked.
Mokvel nodded and pointed to the nearby rock now stained with blue blood. “Yes, he was behind that large rock before he ambushed us.”
"What should we do?" asked one of the scientists.
“We need to get him one board first, send a message back to the Overseer, and tell him to prepare a holding cell. He has a highly aggressive subject coming on board. We can’t take any chances with this one.”
“And these three?”
“They come too. Once we’re safely home, we’ll prepare a ceremony to honour them. We’re lucky he didn't get to finish the rest of us off, too,” said Mokvel. He looked down at the fur-clad Terran. It looked strangely peaceful while it slept, but he couldn’t allow that to distract from its ruthless ferocity. If this was just one Terran, imagine what an entire pack can do.
The Terran, in its subdued state, went through the decontamination cycle and before being brought onboard had first been anaesthetized by med drones to keep him under. He would remain in the Saucer's Med Bay under constant supervision, as many of the beds they used had restraints for dealing with larger threats like him. Mokvel, despite being in pain, remained watching from the ramp as the two protectors wrestled with trying to free their fellow protector from the spear used to skewer him. It was just the three of them now. He had ordered the others back on board. No doubt, the monitor sitting on the transport's command bridge had used this time well to prepare a litany of excuses for how they missed the lone Terran signature. As the two protectors appeared to be finally making progress, a collective pair of voices came onto the radio.
“Multiple -”
Another stone-tipped spear whizzed from the tree line and met the head of one protector. They folded over and landed on the grass. Their death had been instant.
“To the ship!”
The protector took the rifle from their back. They began firing blindly into the forest, leaving sear marks in the trees as a bulbous mass of dark shapes stood at the line. The trees seemed to bristle in anticipation of what would come to pass. This world and its children rejected them. And rightfully so… The protector soon reached the bottom of the ramp as another barrage of spears blocked their view of the sky. Mokvel watched as the spears rained down around them and surrounded the remaining protector, almost acting like a prison.
The tribe of Terrans entered the last light of dusk. All of them were larger than the man they had taken down. Light and dark-skinned, their bodies bore the scars of living off a dangerous land. It was fast becoming obvious to Mokvel who would go on to claim mastery of this world. This time, a single spear, thrown at random, hit the last remaining helpless protector before he could even escape up the ramp. He keeled over backwards and Mokvel could only back away in horror from the gruesome scene before him. His people lay scattered, broken and bloody. At the mercy of these Terrans.
“We need to leave now!” Mokvel shouted into the comms.
He punched the button that would withdraw the ramp. The largest of the Terran tribe moved towards the ship and two more soon followed him. They talked in a harsh-sounding language using expressive gestures and hand signals. Mokvel didn't need translation technology to get the basics of what they were saying.
Anger. Invaders. From the Sky. Kidnappers. Retreat. The larger of the two pointed to the dead Greys. Take them. Learn. Next time. Ready.
“There won’t be a next time,” Mokvel said out loud.
Three Neanderthals stared at him and bared their dirty, sharp teeth in a challenge.
“We should really be going…” Mokvel muttered, pushing the button that would seal the ship. The last thing he saw as the metal doors slid shut was the grim stare of the Terran. Impassive and unyielding. It would forever haunt the mind of Mokvel. Once his fear subsided, he retreated from the exit and prepared to give the monitor a piece of his mind.
The Command Centre was eerie quiet. As everyone took their usual positions, Mokvel settled into the command chair.
“Pull back all drones. There’s no longer any point in continuing to survey.”
The one responsible for monitoring the away team spun around to face him. "Listen, about the rock. It obstructed the scanner."
"You also had drones! That oversight got three - no, five killed. Besides, it's not me you'll have to answer to."
They straightened at the realisation. “It won’t happen again.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Mokvel said. “How are launch preparations going?”
“Almost ready. Let’s hope they aren’t smart enough to not get caught in the engines.”
Once the barrier was down, the saucer's legs folded into the ship and it began hovering before launching itself across the tree line. A sight that would no doubt stick in the minds of the Terrans forever. Once the momentum was with them, the saucer soon escaped the atmosphere. It didn't take long for them to spot the large curved silver body of the Mothership. A feeling of relief washed over Mokvel that was quickly undercut by the immense regret of losing so many of his team. The monitor couldn’t take the whole blame. After all, this expedition had been his responsibility.
Despite the losses, we do have quite the prize. The question now is, what do we do with him? And could his people be of even greater use to us? Are we prepared to shoulder such risks?
After seeing the Terrans in action, Mokvel knew that regardless of whatever came next, it would be best to not underestimate the Terran they had captured, because any complacency from them would surely spell doom for all those aboard the Mothership.