The twin suns that beat down so furiously on Lyrokus were setting over the Zhavok mountain range. The small green creature sat up and darted his head this way and that, ever on the lookout. His head cocked slightly upward and to the side, his antennae leaning the same direction as if it'd heard something. After a moment, it appeared to calm itself, deciding it was nothing after all.
Having sunned itself enough, the creature leaped to its feet and quickly scurried off towards a small hole in the rock. The hole appeared little more than a burrow, only just big enough for one of the diminutive creatures to squeeze through at a time. Darting inside with expert speed, the creature shimmied into the hole the few feet before the tunnel opened up enough for it to stand upright.
"Yelgrun, they await! Primary defense spire! They await!"
The creature hissed in response, swiftly turning his head the direction of the voice. "All quiet! Two cycles! Farnok rests! Farnok rests!" He waved his long slender fingers dismissively and continued at his average speed towards his post.
After climbing through another series of the narrow entryways, he entered a large cavern. Various computer monitors glowed with images overlooking the mountains and the desert just beyond. Several consoles were already manned by other small green antennaed creatures, furiously studying their screens before jerking their gaze to their consoles to key in odd commands, then snapping back up quickly to view their screens again.
Yelgrun sat himself at his console, and checked his two monitors. His Carezone was the center of the stretch of desert that lay just beyond the Zhavok mountain range, and another showing the horizon of the Farnok range. He keyed in several commands, and the image of the neighboring mountains magnified before scanning across the horizon. He could see nothing. Nothing. So long nothing. Farnok sleeps...
"Yelgrun, First Rangebrood Defense Shift here. Shift here! Shift begins?"
He nodded, still staring idly at his monitor. "Shift begins."
Not another word was spoken for forty-five minutes. There was only the sound of console buttons being pressed. Another fifteen minutes went by and Yelgrun stood from his console and stepped towards the amphibian tank for a small snack. He never reached it though. He stopped, dead in his tracks, and glanced over his shoulder back to his monitor...
Slowly turning, he made his way back to his console and leaned closer to the screen, narrowing his large black eyes. There it was again, he hadn't imagined it. A small, almost imperceptible flash of light. Green. "Zhavok fliers."
Another of the small green-skinned beings snapped his attention to Yelgrun as if startled. "No Zhavok fliers."
Yelgrun snapped his attention in the same startled manner back to the other. "No Zhavok fliers? None?"
The other blinked, then shook his head in a very jittery manner.
Turning his head back to the screen, Yelgrun narrowed his eyes further. The tiny flashes of light were indeed green. But there were no Zhavok fliers out... and even if there were, what would they have been doing over Farnok? He keyed in a few commands, and the image magnifed. There was a black spot against the horizon. He could almost make out... wait... there it was. A green beam of light moving from the spot to the mountain. Then another. And another.
He turned his head back to the one he'd spoken to, his voice confirming what he'd already been told. "No Zhavok fliers."
The jittery headshake was again his only reply, even more vehement this time.
Turning back, he now saw flashes of blue moving from the mountain to the spot in the sky. Farnok... "Farnok attacks! Farnok attacks!"
The rest quickly gathered around Yelgrun's console, heads darting frantically this way and that in sharp movements, attempting to see around one another. More spots now moved into view, towards the Farnok Rangebrood. The room's mood was highly charged, long slender fingers twitched. The Farnok were waging heavy battle, but against whom? Who was it that displayed the colors of Zhavok?
As more spots moved into view and began firing on the distant mountain range, the gathering now cheered and talked amongst themselves in excited tones. Yelgrun, however, merely darted his forked tongue out and continued to stare at the screen. One of the spots was growing somewhat in size... it was moving towards the Zhavok mountains.
"Fliers come..." No one heard him at first. "Fliers come! Fliers! Colors of Zhavok approach!" Everyone became very silent almost immediately, staring too into the screen.
The spot grew larger, more green light becoming visible as it drew nearer. "A shape! A shape! I see! I see!"
Yelgrun could see too. So strange, this vessel. Some sort of cube...
It all happened so quickly. The cube drew nearer and nearer, and then instantly began opening fire with sustained energy beams directly on the Zhavok mountain range. The cavern shook, and the sound of small falling rocks could be heard. Yelgrun quickly keyed in his authorization codes to bring the automated defenses online. He heard the sound of the power grid coming online, and soon saw several green beams returning to the cube from the surface. "Prepare! Prepare! They come! They come!" he yelled as he dashed out of the command cavern, through the narrow entryways and into a larger corridor.
Dozens of Lyrokites were scurrying through as well, all headed for their preassigned stations. They carried beam rifles, spears, and knives, antennae flitting about wildly. The jittery, almost panicky way they moved belied their determination and focus on the task at hand. Yelgrun called out to them. "Secure! Secure! Safety. For the Broodmother!" Several looked his direction, and then gave a quick nod before scurrying off. He continued barking orders, trying to help bring more order to the chaos unfolding around him. It was his responsibility.
A violent shudder wracked the whole mountain. Yelgrun steadied himself against the cavern wall, a few others around him stumbled and fell, then rose to continue along their way. After a moment, Yelgrun realized that shudder came from the section of mountain that held the Broodmother. Quickly, he fought his way through the crowds all headed the opposite direction. He dashed into another narrow entryway and turned to his left, running through the corridors towards the back of the tunnel system.
And then there it was... ahead, in the next of the narrow entrydoors was a faint glow. At first he almost began moving towards it, it was green and that instantly registered as a friendly sight. But then he rememebered, the lights on the mountain range, the beams fired from the cubes. These were not necessarily friends ahead, and his antennae twitched with the realization.
Quietly, he took careful steps up to the narrow entry door, and stepped just to the side, out of view to anyone peering through from the other side. Unholstering his beam pistol, he took careful aim across the opening and waited. This was exactly why their caverns were connected by such narrow entrances. Only one Lyrokite at a time could effectively move through, and during an attack none should be far from their assigned station to use them. That meant invading enemies would be herded into these bottle-necks to be stopped with greater ease, and indeed, Yelgrun could hear someone approaching.
At first, the sight perplexed him. The head that poked out wasn't green, as he had expected, but a dull bluish-gray. His confusion caused him to hesitate a moment, and in this time the head snapped around to look up at him. The face was not one he recognized. There were no antennae on the creature's head. Rather, it seemed to be connected to all manner of tubes and wires, with some sort of laser optic over the left eye. Yelgrun jumped, startled, and then fired his weapon. The piercing yelp of the pistol echoed through the cavern, followed by silence. The creature lying half-out of the entryway stared up at him blankly with a smoking hole in its forehead. The laser optic dimmed, and finally went dark.
Yelgrun leaned against the wall to catch his breath, sighing as his pulse began to slow. He returned his view to the strange creature and began to move closer to examine it, when with a green flash it vanished before his eyes. Yelgrun backed up in fear, tripping over a piece of fallen rubble and scurrying back further on his butt. What evil is this?!
And then he heard the sound, just like the last one. Another was coming. Yelgrun quickly scurried back to his position to the side of the entrance and readied his pistol. After a moment, an almost identical head emerged from the opening, this time already looking right in his direction. There was no hesitation now; he fired the weapon... and was stunned when he saw only another green flash of light, and the uninjured creature. Acting only on instinct now, he pressed a button on the side of the pistol, and a blade slid from a slot just over the sight. He swung the weapon violently, slashing across the creature's face and cutting a wire that went into the thing's neck. The creature twitched and sparks shot from the cut wiring. Yelgrun then brought the weapon up high and came down in a stab right to the thing's skull. The knife went in to the pistol's beam emitter. This one's optic dimmed and faded to darkness as well. Just as the knife was pulled from the body, another green flash left the entryway empty once more.
Another shudder shook the mountain, and Yelgrun suddenly remembered his urgency. The Broodmother! Not wanting to waste further time, he took the opportunity to scurry through the tunnel entrance and into the far corridor. Several Lyrokites littered the path. Most were dead, but a few still moved. Yelgrun approached one, and what he saw chilled his spine. Their skin was graying, Their eyes wouldn't focus on anything. What was more strange was the two puncture marks on their necks.
Another shudder. There wasn't much time. He stood and scurried through several more winding corridors. The Broodmother's cavern was just ahead...
He rounded the corner, quickly dove into the last narrow entrance, shimmied through and called out. "They come! Strange ones! They come!"
He stood their, staring up, jaw slack. The cavern was beautifully and ornately carved with the story of the Zhavok. For more than seven ages the history of the Zhavok had been carefully etched into the stone for all to see and remember. The Broodmother sat on her dais, attended by any numbers of her children while others from the Rangebrood would appeal to her for things they needed or decisions that troubled them. Behind her lay the hatchery, and the dozens of attendants that saw to the future generations of Zhavok.
Yelgrun could see none of these things, now, though. They were all gone. The carved histories, the hatchery... the Broodmother. He stared up through the now opened ceiling, into the night sky. Above them hovered two of the great cube things. Most of the firing had stopped, now.
A strange noise echoed through the cavern, and he turned to look across to the other side. There, where before he was certain there had been nothing, stood four of the strange gray and metal creatures. They all turned and locked their optics on Yelgrun, and began walking his direction. Yelgrun didn't need to consider the situation, he merely turned and ran back through the way he'd come. His only hope now was the flier cavern. He might be able to get away, get to some of their allies in the south. He might.
He ran swiftly through the cavern's maze of corridors, shimmying through narrow entrances, ducking around corners when he thought he had heard something, waiting, listening, moving again... His pulse pounded in his ears and his breathing was fast and ragged. Eventually he ducked into the last cavern. The hangar doors had been blown off in the attack, but two of the fliers were still intact. He made his way to the closest and climbed into the cockpit. As he reached up to close it, he saw a number of fliers streak through the sky through the open hangar door, and begin firing on something he could not see. He knew what it was, though...
Keying in his authorization code, and firing up the start sequence, the small craft began to lift off the ground. He quickly turned and guided it out the ruined hangar door and keyed in full throttle, being pushed back in his seat a bit.
He climbed higher and higher, punching in his display to view his six o'clock. There was no sign of pursuit. The fliers he had seen were engaging the cube, now, but one by one were being shot out of the sky.
There was a jolt, and the ship lurched as it was enveloped in green light. It seemed to be emitting from a portion of one of the cubes, and was beginning to have an effect on his engines. He was about to fire aft weapons when a damaged flier crashed into the cube. The light flickered, engines were fully restored and he resumed his climb. He looked once more behind him, at the cubes hovering over the smoldering wreckage of his home, at the fliers futile attempts to bring down the invaders. As he rose higher, he could see other ranges in the distance. Before he could set course for any of them, though, he noticed green flashes of light there as well...
He broke through the atmosphere and into space above, and scanned the area visually. There did not appear to be any cubes in orbit, at least not in this vicinity, and he wasted no time examining that bit of good fortune. He didn't know where he would go... His people had only developed warp engines fairly recently. There were very little in the way of maps or charts, and even less on other sentient species... and certainly nothing he had with him. Glancing back at the planet below, he shook his head as if to clear it. No time. No time, now.
He quickly set a course, and engaged warp with a sigh.
He suddenly realized he had not identified the fliers he had seen on takeoff. He didn't know if the fliers who were fighting and dying against the great cube things were ally or enemy...
And then he suddenly realized that none of that mattered, anymore...
Yelgrun awoke to an alarm sounding in the cockpit of the small craft with which he had made his escape from Lyrokus. It took him several minutes to orient himself to where he was and what had transpired, after which he checked the chronometer. He'd been hibernating for nearly half a shortcycle. He hadn't meant to rest for so long, but considering all that had happened he supposed he must have needed the extra sleep.
He reached behind him into a survival pack and produced some small bit of amphibian jerky and began gnawing on it, sighing a deep breath. After a few moments to regain some energy he began running sensor sweeps.
He didn't expect to find anything. After all, he had been traveling for nearly another half a shortcycle before this most recent hibernation without seeing so much as a single fluctuation in static. He almost choked on his food when he detected the ship.
And almost spit it out when he saw the second... and then the third... and then the fourth.
There were sixteen vessels, varying in size, headed for him. In a panic, he polarized the hull plating and powered up his weapons, and began scanning. Found. Trapped!
Another alarm sounded, and this one gave him pause. He was being hailed. After a moment of hesitation with a long, boney finger over the comm button, he pressed it and chittered his response. "Identify."
There was a pause and a strange voice with stranger words came back. "Say again, unidentified vessel."
His antennae twitched as he tried to recognize even a single word of the bizarre language. He pressed the button again. "Identify!"
The voice came back, still unintelligible. "Repeat your message, unidentified vessel. Our translator is having difficulty with your language."
"Identify! Ally? Foe?! Identify! Prepared to open fire! Again! Identify!"
The voice came back again, more nonsensical sounds... and then he heard it! "Friend..." Then more nonsense. "Dock..." and a series of spacial coordinates amongst the group. His antennae perked with hope for the first time in nearly two shortcycles...
It wasn't until he had spent about an hour amongst the various peoples who had hailed him that the reality of his own situation sunk in. They were all refugees, all from the same creatures who had destroyed his own world. Borg. They had all been drifting through space, looking for a home at the most and any level of security in the least. The more Yelgrun thought about their situation, his situation, he realized that was all that was left for him, too. There was little time to dwell on it, though. The need for survival took a front seat in his mind to the desperation of matters.
They had explained as much as they could, considering the limitations of whatever device they had that allowed them to speak to one another despite they were obviously from different worlds. There was something about his own tongue that was simply too foreign. Many things or ideas could be described with various inflections and sounds depending on as many complex situations as the speaker's mood, or the flick of an antennae one direction over another. However, the lyrokite brain was a miraculous thing. They had always considered themselves special, that evolution had designed them to be capable of more than ordinary animals. These people were obviously not animals, but he did find that he was able to pick up a few words of the language spoken by their leader, Faris Milarko, before they learned any of his.
"Sshipss..." He struggled, antennae twitching in frustration as he stared across the table at Faris. The hairy-headed man with the pinkish skin had a rather helpless look on his face. Yelgrun had only noticed as he passed by the table, which displayed various information on flat monitors inside, the rather simple mistakes that their make-shift fleet seemed to be making in their formation. He wouldn't have realized it if only minutes earlier he had noticed a readout of various ship damage reports from the group. He shook his head to try again, jabbing a finger into the surface of the table, drawing a circle around the cluster of triangles that represented their vessels. "Sshipss... in... bad placssesss..."
"Ships in bad places..." Faris sighed. "Can you be a bit more specific?"
The confused look told Yelgrun that Faris still wasn't getting it more than his words did. He drew the same circle again, faster and with more urgency. "Sshipss..!" He finally hissed in frustration and pointed at several ships along the outer perimeter and then reached up to grasp the ends of his antennae, looking up at the others, hopefully.
The group just stared a moment, before looking at one another, some of them shrugging their shoulders. Nobody said anything.
Another hiss and Yelgrun thought a moment. He suddenly began frantically hitting buttons until an image came up on one of the monitors from an exterior sensor aboard his vessel. He studied the stars on the screen a moment, and then the cluster of vessels.
"I... I'm afraid I still don't understand," Faris began.
Yelgrun ignored him, eventually touching one of the triangles representing one of the ships in the cluster. He then touched a star on the other screen. That star lit up, highlighted. He then selected another vessel from one screen, and highlighted another star. This continued until he had assigned a star on the screen to each ship.
After the third or fourth one, Faris sighed. "We cannot split up to different star systems. Our only chance is to--."
"Sir..." another of the creatures spoke up. They were of the same world as Faris, and wore the same uniform. She stepped up and pointed at the screen. "Sir, I don't think he's suggesting that at all.
"What do you mean?"
"Well... if we assume that each ship is to stay together... then what our friend here has done is assigned a new formation."
"... What?"
"Well... look! He's taken into account the damaged sensor arrays that cause blind spots for certain ships... and he's placed them in such a way that when traveling in a group..." The woman looked up, rather surprised. "We'd maximize our collective sensor effectiveness by over thirty percent."
Someone else spoke up. ""That would certainly give us an edge if we were being followed..."
Faris turned to regard the small green alien curiously. The creature's eyes were darting from Faris to the others, still obviously unaware that they had finally grasped what he was trying to tell them. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You, my friend, have our thanks."
Yelgrun only understood two words of that sentence, 'friend' and 'thanks'. But it was enough.
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