Chapter 6: The Pieces Are In Place
Like a great emerald in the centre of a sheet of velvet, there was a serene beauty to the planet Ajax looked down upon. Most of the sphere was a deep, lush green, swathes of stone blanketed by grasslands and forest. In all his time in space, even when he had first looked back at his homeworld, he had never seen such a dreamlike image - it appeared more like a work of fine art than reality. It was a blessing upon humanity that such a planet as Ithaca could exist.
It was understandable that there would be Ymir here - as a world with few human settlements and vast amounts of usable terrain and resources, it was almost begging to be used as a hideout. This did not make the alien presence any less distressing. Ajax swore that he would cleanse this jewel of a world.
He turned to his bridge crew, standing at his fullest height. He was an impressing sight indeed - tall and brawny, his strong jaw thickly bearded, he was the very image of masculinity. A scar ran over one eye, extending towards his bald pate. Hanging off a single shoulder, a long, trailing red cape was draped over his military uniform. General Gimmy's right hand demanded the instant respect of anyone who stood before him, and his orders went unquestioned even by the unruliest of soldiers.
He addressed the crew with an air of authority, one rather becoming of such a leader.
'I'd like to have access to ship-wide communications, please.' The crew wordlessly complied, and the Colonel cleared his throat.
'Servants of humanity, the situation has become more complicated than it first appeared. We still have a great many mysteries to unravel, and we believe the answers may dwell in the untamed wilderness of Ithaca. As you know, three units have returned home with the intention of tracking down the device referred to by the Ymir as 'Dain'. But with three days of searching and scanning proving fruitless, it is time to take action.'
'We know for a fact that a sizeable company of Ymir are stationed somewhere in Ithaca, hidden far from the settlements. Their lack of aggression, however, leads me to believe they are on a reconnaissance mission, or aim to protect an area or object on the planet's surface. This interest in Ithaca prompts the further conclusion that Ithaca bears some connection to the Ymir, and perhaps their most closely guarded secrets.'
'The Ymir ambassador spoke of a 'World Tree', which is an even greater pointer to Ithaca's significance, it being the heavily forested biosphere that it is.'
'Our mission is to affirm the positions of the main concentration of Ymir and whatever they are searching for or protecting. Following this, we may be forced to enter combat, and in this case a small-scale engagement is unlikely. It is for this reason that I would like to have every scout, fighter and technician with me on the surface. The success of this task will most probably depend upon the amount of manpower and resources put into it.'
'You all have a job to do. We make planetfall in two hours and fourty-three minutes. Be prepared. The fate of our race may rest upon the result of this mission!'
Ajax signed off comms and took a seat. He sighed.
He was exhausted; sleep had not been an option with all the tactical and strategic meetings he had been required to hold or attend. But still he burned with the hope of finding a chink in the Ymir's shell, a single weakness or weapon to exploit, a masterstroke that would bring this tiresome conflict to a swift close.
And as much as he wanted to wipe out the barbarian horde, he would get a damn good fight out of the whole ordeal.
The cosmos held a coldness and solitude that Nakim had never known before. If there was one thing of which he was sure, it was that he was alone now; he had alienated and fled from everyone he had ever known.
Yet still he surged on, yearning for victory.
A console at the fore of his cockpit was teeming with maps, charts, figures and statistics, every gear spinning to find the Ymir. He had resolved to bring burning justice upon them, even if he was alone, even if it was his fate to crumble before their might. It was all he had left; a fierce desire to kill or be killed.
Minutes flickered by, any lonely echoes of life achingly far away.
The events of the past few days ran through Nakim's head. The disastrous attack on Icarus. The orphan. The Old Man. He had cast them all aside, ignoring their words, his true, savage self rising to the surface. He was no better than the alien horde, his only motivation a single-minded, base animal instinct to inflict pain and injury on his enemies.
Was he beyond salvation?
Minutes turned into hours, the passage of time dilating and contracting, becoming amorphous; Nakim was too lost in his own self-pity to check where and when he was. When he came to, he was shocked by the breathtaking sight of Ithaca ahead, the field of his next fight. It was a little tragic that the struggle would take place on a stage so beautiful, but Nakim had lost any grasp on the concept of beauty. Another man might be awed at that moment by the wonder that was Ithaca, but Nakim simply plunged towards the stratosphere.
A feeling of deja vu struck him as he sailed down through layers of air and cloud. Hopefully he would pull off a more successful landing this time.
Clear blue skies stretched as far as the naked eye could see, pockmarked by clusters of vapour. Beneath was a verdant carpet of unrestricted, uncontrollable wilderness, vast expanses of every shade of green imaginable. Nakim took a little time to inspect the scenery before breaking through the treetops.
His descent became chaotic, manoeuvres difficult; his vision was obscured by the darkness of the forest, and the sound of metallic scraping and the snapping of branches could be heard. The Grapearl shook heavily as it landed, smacking hard against some sort of smooth surface with a splash, before being sucked into whatever it had landed in at an alarming rate. It halted just before its upper torso became submerged.
Nakim peered groggily out of the cockpit. There was a gap in the trees above through which sunlight poured past evergreen leaves. All around him was dense woodland, some parts of it suffocatingly dark. Massive trees with blackened bark rose above the rest of the canopy here and there. The wall of noise created by his clumsy arrival had been replaced with the gentle burble of fresh water.
Nakim had landed in a small river, flowing down from some faraway hills.
With a sigh, he struggled onto the left bank and paused to recuperate. His entry had been better than the last time, but still not exactly enjoyable. Looking over his maps and tracking devices, he observed that he was still tens of miles from the Ymir camp, and hundreds away from any trace of human civilization. However, a mass of new signals were appearing, just outside the forest he had landed in, making their way along the hillsides. He decided to cautiously find and analyze this new presence - it could be a valuable ally or just another threat.
As his Grapearl rose to its feet, a deep rumble was emitted from behind him.
A monstrous creature had chanced upon his location, an almost lupine beast with rubbery, obsidian skin, the frame of a wolf, strong legs, a short muzzle and undoubtedly powerful jaws. It was massive, as tall at the shoulder as many full-grown men, and as long as the Grapearl was tall. Nakim froze as soon as he saw it, completely thrown off by the sheer size and menace of this animal. He began to back away slowly, but the carnivore pounced regardless, hurling him off his feet. He landed heavily in the river.
He supposed it was his fault for his inelegant landing that this thing had been alerted to his presence, but Nakim was still determined to stay alive, and as the creature followed him into the river he sprang upwards, launching a fist into its chin. It was blasted away by the hard, metallic collision, slamming against the riverbank, sending chunks of earth sliding into the water. Nakim followed up with a sharp kick to the beast's side. It whined and began to retreat.
Nakim decided that these two blows had been enough; the wolflike monstrosity had been sharply informed that this war machine was a legitimate threat. But to his surprise it suddenly assumed a more aggressive stance, releasing a harsh snarl from its throat. It seemed to have become fixated on a point past the Grapearl's shoulder. Warily, he turned a little in order to peer behind him.
He was almost deafened by a mighty bellow, a vocal challenge with the force of a sledgehammer behind it.
On the opposite bank, another animal was standing its ground, an even more titanic organism that towered above the Grapearl itself. This one had a build and appearance similar to a nastier, more brutish evolutionary variant of the grappopotami from his homeworld, with a heavy shell on its back and legs literally as thick as particularly stout tree trunks.
The beast lumbered forward, forcing Nakim to hurl himself out of the way. The wolf-creature, realizing that its bluff had been called, fled, leaving Nakim alone with this belligerent mountain of muscle.
Before he could think it turned and hit him with the strength of a hurricane. As he spun downriver, the vicious giant charged, momentum carrying it at terrifying speed. Nakim ground to a halt and prepared to counter, launching himself at the oncoming avalanche of pure brawn.
As soon as the two met, Nakim's Grapearl was sent tumbling away once again, the beast remaining completely undamaged. Nakim felt a rush begin to fill him, one he had missed immensely.
It was not fear that he felt, or desperation, or even excitement; it was fury, a smouldering wrath created by the humiliation of being flung around like a ragdoll by nothing more than a dumb animal. Nakim drew his heaviest firearm and spat hot lead at the rampaging artiodactyl.
This time it knew pain, its limbs grazed and scored by bullets. Adrenaline hurled Nakim forward, drawing a second weapon and hailing bullets upon the monster. As he advanced, the ungulate bellowed again and began to shy away, its ludicrously tough hide failing it. As it began to withdraw, Nakim slowed his rate of fire until he stopped, dropped to his knees and began to make an attempt at regaining his breath.
It was just his luck to arrive at the most inhospitable part of the planet.
All Ajax could see, standing at the front of a great column of Grapearls, were miles of grass quivering in the cool wind. From his opened cockpit he sucked in an invigorating breath; the air here could revitalize a sick man in seconds. Heavily shaded woods stood at the grassland's fringes, and to one side of Ajax, hills rolled and tumbled down onto the fields.
'I adore this planet!' he roared across comms. 'I think I may just settle down here when I retire!'
'Colonel, this is hardly the time,' said the exasperated woman on the other side of the channel.
'Now, now, General, you know me,' Ajax yelled, zest for life destroying his volume control. 'I find a way to enjoy every campaign, this one will be no exception.'
'Yes, but normally your 'enjoyment' comes from the thick of the fight, not a mass of overly-picturesque scenery.'
'Whoever said every campaign's the same? Now, if you want to get this conversation on track towards something productive, spit out your goddamn orders!'
'Honestly, you're like a child on holiday... listen, I want you to continue as you were, but find a settlement or defensive position before any major engagement. The planning for the central battle has undergone some revision; my brother wants me to bring you some reinforcements, so stay on the defensive until I arrive. Is that clear?'
'Ohoho, General Darry, you want to smash some heads too?'
'I suppose you could say I have missed frontline combat a little, yes.'
'Well, fear not. We'll find a spot to shore up a while. It'll give me more time to admire the view!'
'You're impossible. General Darry, out.'
The fizzling of a broken connection replaced Darry's voice. Ajax laughed and turned to his men.
'Men, I have an announcement to make!'
The assembled soldiers waited expectantly for their leader's words.
'This is going to be the greatest campaign in recent history!'
At the summit of a nearby hill, two dim shapes crouched, watching and listening intently. They were mechs, locked in gunmetal armour, humanoid in shape, with large, curved spines running along the sides of their limbs. Their heads bore cold, red eyes and helmets with vicious horns on either side.
They saw the apes' leader's grandstanding, the cheers of his men, and the call to organize for the next march, but these things were useless, trivialities that held no intrigue for them. No, they skimmed the speeches and rallying cries, picking out and recording every mention of a time or a place, everything that could be construed as a fact or a figure.
As the humans began to march, the Ymir slipped away and over the hills. When the monkeys arrived on their doorstep to strike at them, Odin's heirs would be ready.
A/N:
I think I may need to start fighting my compulsion to end everything with a cliffhanger. Still, there'll be some resolution at last in a few chapters.