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.