Silath, Chapter 2

The ship rumbled as it broke atmosphere, shaking the soldiers around me in their restraints. I gripped the bar above me tighter, spreading my legs wider as I looked at the face of each Decale unit. They looked confident and ready, pointed ears perked in alertness. The third officer (I believe his name was Kaln) was speaking with his Charge. I couldn't hear them over the roar.
There are not many ranks within the Nith forces. In the case of a ground assualt, a third officer commands nine other soldiers, three of them being Decale Charge, a sort of second-in-command and specialist. The other six are simply Decale; basic combat units. A second officer is in charge of several of these ten-man squads, usually five, and a first officer oversees a band of second officers. Servas operate similarly, but their area of expertise is on equipment operation; not combat.
I relaxed as we broke atmosphere, the ride smoothing considerably. I gazed out the windshield of the ship, the Grassling world below us. We would be among the first to land, hundreds of other ships launched from the fleet right behind us.
The Decale were all clad in ceramic armor, painted a dark green, a backpack held between their knees. Magazine pouches, radio, and a long bayonette dangled from belts around their waists, five of them holding a short automatic rifle in their laps. On their right thigh was an automatic pistol, with magazines for it on their left thigh. Covered in armor and weapons, each was a fearsome sight. The other three were the Decale Charge; one carrying a scoped, long range rifle, the other two lugging light machine-guns.
I was clad in similar armor, although mine was a dark red, the same color as that of the Farin's Claw armor. I carried the same pistol and rifle as the other soldiers. Both were accurate, reliable, and relativly lightweight, using polymer and aluminum parts where possible.
The pilot turned from his seat and shouted, informing us that landfall outside the city would occur in just under three minutes. I nodded in reply, turning to peer out the windscreen. We had slowed to about five-hundred miles an hour, slowly dropping in speed. I gazed at the land speeding beneath us; flat plains, occupied by high grasses and trees along rivers and streams. Off in the distance rose mountains; nothing spectacilur.
The Grasslings had earned their name due to their tendancy to inhabit these vast plains. The grass that covered them was prickly and tough, which was probably why the Grasslings themselves were covered in a thick, scaly hide. It would be hell to walk through with fur, but vehicles would be dropped shortly after we arrived on the ground.
The meta-plan for occupation of the Grassling world was simple; the first task was to take command of the major cities dotted across the plains. Once this domination of the major urban areas was complete, trade and barter would largely be under our control. The second task would be to send expidiotanary forces from the cities into the surrounding farmlands, securing food and other neccesary resources. Third, we would tackle the smaller towns in the higher elevations, nestled withing the coniferous forests their.
It seemed the Grasslings had not thought the large rainforests encompassing vast portions of the souther continents worth inhabiting, likely due to the difficulties of comabating the environment there. We, however, would waist no time in setting the Grasslings to work harvesting resources across their world.

The ship slowed as a city came into view, sprawled across the side of one of the many small lakes dotting the plains. Calling it a city hardly seemed fair, now that I was able to see it in person. In Nith standards, it would hardly qualify as a backwoods town; estimates placed the population at roughly thirty-thousand. The buildings were mostly earthen, consisting of sod with wooden reinforcement. Here and there larger buildings arose, two, three, or even four stories tall and made of sun-baked clay bricks. A large earthen berm and ditch surrounded the city, offering a basic sort of defence.
Twenty-nine other ships would be landing with us on this city, circling and trapping it's inhabitants against the shores of the lake. One hundred-to-One odds were not favourable, but we were certain that once we showed our superior tactical strength, fear would even the odds.
We had discovered thirty-nine of these major cities, with three hundred Decale being sent to each. The initial assualt wave would be a little under twelve-thousand troops. Eight-thousand more sat in reserve aboard the fleet's four personnel carriers (Each holding five-thousand Decale)
The dropship hovered and began to descend as the third officer ordered the other men to sling on their packs, double check their weapons, and attach bayonets. A jolt ran through the ship as it touched the ground, the large door lowering and offering a ramp to exit. The officer headed to the ramp, the other Decale getting to their feet to follow. I watched in interest. A few hours earlier I had told the officer I would allow him to be completely autonomous of my commands; I wanted him to behave as if I weren't there.
Calling over his back as his feet touched the Grassling soil for the first time, the officer called out to his men.
"Remember! If they're too close, stab, then shoot. Don't waste your time targeting something charging at you from feet away! Stab em, shoot em, then on to the next!"
A chorus of "Yes, third officer!" rang out and the Decale descended, spreading into a semi-circle on the ground. I followed, and as we moved out of range of the blast of the dropship's thrusters it took off once more into the sky. Within an hour it would be back, this time toting a Scythe; a six-wheeled armored vehicle for the squads use.

We had landed about a mile from the outskirts of the city. I suspected that soon Grasslings would begin to appear; curiosity often overwhelmed fear, at least in the beggining. The third officer began giving orders to clear an area of the two foot tall grass to wait in until the Scythe arrived. The Decale began to trample and cut the weeds with their bayonettes.
After a few minutes, the Third-Officer's radio crackled, the planet's atmosphere messing with the transmission slightly. It would be the Second-Officer in command of this squad and four others checking in.
"All squads city one, segment one, this is command. Report landfall status, recieved?"
The Third-Officer, Kaln, slid his radio from it's pouch and spoke.
"Command, recieved, this is sqaud one. Landfall succesful, awaiting Sycthe delivery, end."
A moment passed while the transmission travelled through to the command ship.
"Squad one, recieved. Advisor Silath is with you, correct?"
I rolled my eyes as the Third-Officer looked to me and shrugged. I nodded to him.
"Command, that is correct." he paused for a moment, then continued. "I've been told by the Advisor that she and squad one are 'independant entities'. All appropriate radio traffic should be relayed to her, recieve?"
"Squad one, recieved. Await orders . End transmission."
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle in the Second-Officers voice. I looked down at my own radio and debated turning it off.
Over the next minute the other four squads all reported in succesful landfalls. As we awaited delivery of the Scythe, a few Grasslings appeared in the distance, peering at us. The crowd slowly grew, and radio chatter confirmed that similar circumstances were happening at nearly every landfall site. The creatures had finally begun to creep closer, althout still a good quarter-mile away, when the dropship arrived carrying the Scythe, sending the Grasslings scrambling.
"Alright, everyone climb aboard." Third-Officer Kaln called out, heading for the passenger gunner seat. "Time to enjoy ourselves."
The Scythe bristled with weapons; a light machine-gun in front of the passengers seat, a medium machine-gun on each side of the squad compartment, and an automatic grenade launcher in a turret on top. Plated in a thicker, heavier version of the dark-green ceramic armor Decale troops wore, it would be impossible for Grasslings to take down.
As one of the Decale began to climb into the top turret, I snatched his tail and dragged him back down.
"I was thinking I might have a little fun first, if you don't mind terribly?"
The Decale shook his head, averting his eyes.
"Of course not, Advisor. It would be our honor."
I smiled and shook his armored shoulder before climbing up into the turret. Loading the weapon, I rotated the turret in the direction of the Grasslings, who had regathered into a group about half a mile away. Tilting the barrel upwards, I let off a string of five rounds, the thumping sound pleasant to my ears. A second later, the rounds hit, exploding at their feet, and subsequently blowing them off, along with various other body parts. It would be an interesting day.

Silath - Chapter 1

(Copying from wordpad seems to destroy my tabs, so please excuse the lack of paragraph structure)


Chapter 1

I watched as the short, hairless, squat beast wriggled, suspended upside down and dangling from a rope. It's snub, wrinkled face showed fear, or at least what I suspected to be fear. More like outright terror really, which was odd to me; surely it knew it's time was at an end, that there was no escape. Why not accept death, cast aside the fear and be done with it.
Grasslings. Compared the the Nith, they were so very pathetic, but to be fair their species was some many years younger than ours, their planet far smaller, their resources far more limited. Still and all, they had become the most dominant race, had formed primitive governments and cities, and even begun to forge weapons from basic metals. Given proper genetic sampling and observation, followed by appropriate breeding and domestication, their use as slave labor would be invaluable.
I did have to admire them in one aspect; their tenacity and fighting spirit were wild (at least in engagements with species of their own kind; we Nith had yet to face of with them), but it was untempered by discipline and control. The Grassling's rage was a bonfire, not a focused, white-hot flame that was instilled within our own Decale troops. I gazed at it's face once more, looking for that rage. There was none.
In the end it was estimated that it would simply be quicker to send down ground troops than to take the time to engineer a virus specific to the Grassling's genes. I was thankful to the genticists for reaching such a conclusion; even if our foes were technologically inferior, I still relished the thought of meeting them in battle.
The stench of the thing penetrated my thoughts, and I gazed at it in disgust. It's skin was thick, oily, and scaly. Quite disgusting, compared the the long, silken fur of a Nith, accentuated by our lean, lithe bodies. But then, our environments were quite different. From a standing of personal taste, I was disgusted that we had bothered sending and entire fleet to this planet, but the Kalsan had ordered it, and so it was set to be done. As an advisor to the Kalsan, it was my duty to attend. In truth I was pleased to be given the assignment, no matter how easy it would prove to be.

And being on the first Nithian battleship was no small wonder in itself. The Farin's Claw was a feet of engineering; One-hundred, twenty-one thousand tons of steel structure, ceramic armor, and massive firepower. Really, the ship could wipe out every living creature on the planet, but that was not our purpose here.
Still, every time I thought about it, it gave me chills. The smooth curves of the crimson ceramic armor plating gleaming light from the sun, broken only by launch ports on each side, the bow curving down sharply from the top into a sharp point, row upon row of missile bay underneath. If ever there was a ship worthy of a gods name, the Farin's Claw was it.
I would apologize for rambling, but if you've ever seen the beast then you would understand. Besides, I've never been one for needless apologies. Speaking of myself, I suppose I should offer a description, as I am not quite you're typical Nith. I am taller and leaner than most of our species, seven feet and 2 inches, one-hundred and fifty-four pounds. My muzzle is longer and sharper than most, my eyes smaller and more narrow. My fur is a coal-grey, with a streak of dull silver extending from the tip of my muzzle, down my back, to the tip of my tail. Nith have an average height of around six feet, an average weight of about one-hundred and fifty pounds. The color of fur ranges anywhere from red-brown to midnight black. Us females of the Nith race are generally taller and more sharply featured than the males, but my physcial form seems to have taken that to extremes.
The overall effect, of which I am quite proud, is that if it were possible for a Nith to be a dagger, than a dagger I would be. I am just over seventeen years old; The average age of our kind is fourty-six years, without medical assistance; with medical assistance, it's closer to seventy. None of us wish to live that long, unless absolutely neccesary. The ruling five members of the Kalsan have been known to extend their lives as long as needed, if a suitable replacement cannot be found before natural death would have occured.
Puberty begins around the age of six, and lasts two years. By age eight, a Nith is treated as an adult. To put it simply; we grow up fast.
Other than that, we Nith are not afraid to die when our time is at an end. 'If it is so, it is because the gods willed it so.' is a saying we all live by. Do not misunderstand; we do not think our gods omnipresent and omnipotent, but certainly they are wiser and more powerful than we.

I trailed a claw down the Grassling's stomach, it's oil smearing onto the textured pad of my fingertip. My claws were unsually sharp for a Nith; I had them filed and sealed with a tough epoxy. It pierced the Grassling's flesh, drawing a bead of watery, pale blood. Drawing my claw downwards, I cut through it's hide and layer of fat, just above the muscle, stopping at the creatures breastbone. It wailed and roared in it's guttural tongue at me; no matter which dialect you listened to, they all sounded the same. Again, I thought of our supiority as a species. Our language was so much more delicate and smooth, rolling off the tongue in an exquisite manner.
Blood pattered onto the deck of the ship, pooling on the steel and reflecting the lights muddily. My first actual encounter with a sentient alien race, and this was all to see. I was dissapointed. Slaughtering them would be fun, though, and the thought brought a wicked smile to my face. I parted my muzzle, tongue flicking out to lick my bloodied claw. Grassling blood was bitter, salty, and tasted strongly of copper.
I found it to my liking. Soon there would be enough spilled to drown myself in. Reaching down once more with a claw, I slit the Grassling's throat and slid under it, letting the blood drip into my muzzle, arterial spurts splashing some onto my chest and neck. Unfortunately I was interrupted, a polite knock sounding on the hatch. Sighing, I left my helpless pray to it's fate and released the latch. On the other side stood a very stiff Servas officer, who promptly thumped his right fist to his chest in salute. Dressed in a Servas officers synthetic uniform of light grey (as opposed to a Decale's dark green), he was the epitome of the proper officer. He waited patiently just outside the doorway.
Blood coating the fur of my throat, I grinned at him.
"Second Officer Leehan. What can I do for you today?"
"Advisor Silath" Leehan replied, "Commander Relethan sent me. He apologizes for the interruption, but it's urgent."
"It's fine, fine." I said, still bloodied and naked, smiling happily. At first glance everyone on the ship knew me, and not a one would dare comment on my choice of dress. I could go out wearing strips of flesh and not recieve a single whispered comment. One did not comment on the dress style of an advisor, not if they wished to keep their life. I did as I wished.
"As for the Grassling, Advisor?" Leehan asked, casting disdainful eyes on the bloody, furless thing dangling loosesly above the floor.
"Give him to the cooks. The Decale love fresh meat. Serve it to the first squadron scheduled to make landfall." I walked out of the room, bare claws clicking on the metallic floor. Leehan followed hastily behind.
Regulation footwear is synthetic, non-slip, non-conductive chemical resistance synthetic soles with heavy nylon uppers and ceramic toes. They are virtually silent on the deck; so when the crew hears the click of claws, they know it is me. And subsequently they made way and thumped their chest very snappily. I smiled and nodded at all of them, wondering how many of them were secreting glances at my graceful, blood spattered body. Probably none... they would all be too scared shitless by me. Most saw my constantly cheerfull mood as pyschotic, and to be honest with myself, I had to admit that perhaps it was.
I began to sing a tune as I walked, something victorious armies had sung while marching through conquered towns since time immemorable.

"We've burned your fields and killed your men,
Raped your woman and taken your land,
You fought like sheep against the wolves,
We slaughtered your army and broke their backs!

Cast down your eyes conquered ones,
Before you marches the army of death!

Their blood has washed the dust from my throat,
Their bones lie to rot in the grain,
Their shields shattered under my blade,
And now your lives belong to me!"

I managed to finish five renditions before I arrived at the bridge. I brushed away Leehan's hands as he tried to open the hatch for me. Sometimes such efforts of etiquette amused me; sometimes they were just annoying. Stepping inside, I could see Commander Relethan bending over a table, the glow of the display lighting his face. Several other officers imitated him.
I knew what Leehan was going to do before he even had his fist to his chest. I clamped a hand over his mouth, claws pricking his skin through the fur.
"Let me do it." I whispered in his ear. The second officer nodded his head slightly, confusion in his eyes. Coughing once, I breathed deeply before bellowing out in a growling voice, quite in contrast with our language,
"Advisor Silath on deck!"
Immediatly everyone in the room snapped to their feet, stiff as a board, and thumped their fists to their chest in salute. I looked about sternly for a few moments before a grin broke through, spreading across my muzzle. Shaking my head in amusement, I headed to Relethan, waving a hand for everyone to relax. They all stayed stiff, aside from the commander; slowly the others followed suit, looking at eachother nervously. It was obvious they were unused to my prescence.
"Commander Relethan, I would be most pleased to hear that you've interrupted me because the invasion is about to begin?" I smiled my most wicked smile at him.
The commander straightened his back uncomfortably, taking a half step away. I had to restrain a chuckle as the thought passed that any officer was as much a politician as a soldier.
"Thank you for coming so quickly and on such short notice. I apologize for interupting your..." he glanced at the dried blood on the fur of my throat and chest, "...Meal. But that is correct, Advisor. In a little under an hour, to be precise; I thought you would want to be here when it was launched"
I raised an eyebrow. "Really, Relathan, I'm dissapointed. You should know me better than that. I'll be on the first dropship out, of course."
The commander was silent for a moment, then bowed his head. "Of course, as you wish Advisor. Please excuse me."
"Try to think outside the box a bit more, commander. It would do you well." I peered into his eyes, and he peered right back. Interesting. And was that a slight smirk I detected? Maybe he was worthy of commanding a ship such as this.
"I'll try my best to take your advice to heart, Advisor. I wasn't aware you would be going into battle yourself. You're aware of the assualt plans?"
"Of course." I had made the decision to leave the planning entirely in his hands, mostly to gauge his capabilities first-hand as an officer.
Since childhood I had been raised to become an Advisor, possibly eventually a member of the Kalsan, and so was well within my rights to challenge any of Relethans decisions. From the moment I'd first glanced his invasion plans, I had gained a level of respect for the man.
"Good hunting, Commander." I grasped his shoulder and squeezed, taking care not to prick his uniform with my claws. His eyebrows raised slightly at the contact, but otherwise elicited no reaction.
"And to you, Advisor." he replied. With that, I turned and made my way out of the bridge, tail swishing behind me.