An Account Mostly False
Part I

-Some Time Ago-

*Smack!*

Scott Aberdeen struck himself below the cheek, and wiped the palm of his hand against the damp, khaki fabric of his unbuttoned shirt.
"Bloody gnats..."
The terrier's fur was drenched oily black, partly from sweat and partly from the sheer humidity of the most dense jungle underbrush imaginable. The sunlight came down filtered through layer upon layer of vegetation, split into thin bands by the leaves, vines and branches of all the overcrowded trees. The air was hot and thick like the inside of a sauna, but in that nauseating sickly way that almost always comes with clouds of flies and other tiny irritating winged insects.

"Ye sure this is the right spot then?" Scott asked, waving away the flies in front of his face.

Behind the terrier were two figures: one a lanky thin-muzzled canine who carried himself as the obvious leader, the other was a diminutive mustard yellow avian burdened with a heavy backpack

The lanky canine stepped forward toward the terrier.
"I am absolutely sure it's here..."
He ran the fingerclaws of his bony hand through the thick blanket of plant matter.
"The vegetation would've grown-over the entrance after so long, after so many centuries."

"Alright Harrison, I get it..."
Scott drew his impact claymore and started hacking away at the dense underbrush.
"It might take... about that long just tae... cut through all this bleedin~"

*Clank!*

The blade struck something hard behind the blanket of vines, something not unlike stone.
"Heh, or maybe not."

"Step aside, Aberdeen..."
Harrison clawed at the sword's point of contact, ripping away the vines and ferns in a frenzy. He soon stripped away the last layer of plants, and revealed a smooth surface of dark gray rock underneath. The lanky canine felt along the stone wall, searching, feeling. And he found it: a round hole about a centimeter across in the otherwise uniform surface.
"Yes, yes, this is it!"
Harrison produced a small object from a chain hanging around his neck, something which looked like a small violet-tinted quartz crystal, and plunged it into the corresponding hole in the wall. For only an instant, a point of light flashed across the stone surface. Then the wall began to shake, trembling as if in an earthquake.

"Stand back." Harrison said, motioning for Scott to back away.

The smooth stone split into to two halves, cracking open like the pages of an ancient tome. When everything stopped, the surface was gone, and a narrow corridor of the same gray stone-like material descended underground in its place. There was light down this corridor – an quiet iridescent glow that didn't seem to emanate from any single source. The light was simply there.

After a few seconds standing speechless, the lanky canine stepped through, and began along the corridor's gentle downward slope.
"Let's go..."

After sheathing his blade, Scott Aberdeen and the mustard yellow avian followed Harrison down.

"Whoa, hold on guys..."
The songbird stopped a moment, and slipped a monitoring device off her belt.
"The ion radiation just jumped point-6 rads per second in here. I'll bet that's were the ambient light is coming from."

Scott looked around, searching for answers.
"Anything we ought be worried about?"

The avian shook her head.
"We should be okay as long as we're not here more than a few hours..." she said as she set down her pack, and began rummaging through it, "I still recommend we all take an inoculation for good measure..."
She produced thee thin cylinders from a pocket of her pack – autoinjector tubes. The mustard yellow songbird uncapped on of them and injected the dose into her arm before offering the other two.

"I'm not taking any chances."
Scott accepted the tube and injected himself with the inoculation without hesitation.

"And you, Dr. Harrison?" The avian held out the last autoinjector to the lanky canine.

"Thanks, but I won't need any."
Harrison turned and began down the corridor again.

"But~"

"It's alright Beverly..." the canine said over his shoulder, "I know what I'm doing."

Rolling her eyes, Beverly replaced the unused tube and hoisted her pack onto her back again.
"Suit yourself, it's your DNA after all."

The group continued down the eerie corridor with few words. The air was far cooler inside, but carried a hint of charge similar the distinct smell of an imminent thunderstorm. Still without a source, the light persisted all around them as a mysterious blue glow.

"This place gives me the creeps." Scott muttered, glancing around the area as if expecting booby traps, or something sinister.

Beverly appeared to have similar anxieties, and stifled them with speech.
"It's all the same architecture as the Saurian's most important monuments, but in much better condition. Just look at these floors and walls..."
She gestured around them as they walked.
"You see there's no creeping vines, no fungi or lichen, or any organic material whatsoever. This ambient radiation would've killed off any organisms that tried to settle in. How I would've loved to stay a bit longer and sample some of this stone material, but that's not why we're here..."

"That's right Beverly, we're here for something far more important."
Ahead of the other two, Harrison turned down an abrupt corner.

"And when are ye tell me what's so damned important?"
Scott followed, intending to catch up.

The lanky canine had reached a stone door similar to the entrance far behind them, but without any jungle overgrowth.
"We won't have to tell you Aberdeen, you'll see it for yourself..."
Again, Harrison inserted the small violet quartz into the hole. The crystal flashed with a brief blaze of light, and the two halves of stone crept apart from each other.

The room beyond was a great deal larger, almost gymnasium sized. It bore the same architecture and was lit with the same sourceless indigo glow permeating through the rest of the place. The center floor was dominated almost entirely by a broad platform raised a few feet off the ground. The center of this platform held only one thing: a lone statue in the form of a figure. The form seemed to resemble an ape standing at perfect attention holding a kind of sceptre in one hand, but the facial proportions on the head were all off. The mouth was shrunken, the forehead much larger, and the nose and chin far more pronounced than any primate species in Lylat. It was at the same time both an alien and eerily familiar shape...

"Is that what we're here for?" Scott asked, pointing out the statue.

"In a way..."
Harrison stepped into the room to a set of steps leading to the top of the platform.
"How effective is your impact claymore on rock?"

"Uh, it'll crack most stones clean in two if thrust in hard enough."

Beverly barely contained a laugh.
"Sorry, it's... never mind."

Harrison ignored her, continuing with Scott.
"What we need is inside that statue, and we need you to break it open."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"There's something ye're not telling me here."
The terrier stepped forward, closing in on Harrison.

"It'll make more sense once you step onto the platform..."
The lanky canine gestured to the steps, inviting Scott to continue forward.
"Good luck."

Scott climbed the short flight of steps to the top of the platform and began walking toward the statue. A light flashed from the statue similar to the doors, and then it came to life. The stone figure opened its small angled eyes, both of which shone brightly with a pale blue light, and the sceptre in its hands extended into a full-length staff. The stone figure took a few heavy steps, whirling the staff around itself with a warrior's precision.

The terrier stopped in his tracks, stunned.
"What's all this then?!"

"The inscription here reads Test of Prowess..." Harrison replied, looking over a text carved into the steps, "So you'll just have to prove your prowess."

"This just gets stranger and stranger..."
Scott drew his impact claymore and assumed a well-practiced swordsman's fighting stance.
"Yer move, ye stone-faced git."

The statue stood waiting with its staff held ready, its two eyes of light never leaving the oily black terrier for an instant.

"So that's the way it's goin'tae be then?"
Scott stepped forward and performed an experimental thrust, but the statue spun the staff in a defensive sweep that knocked the blade aside.

The terrier started off as simply as possible, prodding his peculiar opponent with a basic series of routine slices chops and thrusts, and the statue's style gradually revealed itself over time. It used sweeping spins as a defense, flinging blows aside with the staff whirling like a turbine. The statue favored lighting-quick thrusts for its offense, but also used a variety of sweeps, strikes and slams when appropriate. Though the staff can strike with both ends, it can only strike with a single end at a time – it was still a single weapon. The staff's advantages at a distance could be easily undermined if one can get inside the whirling barrier of spinning staff...

The opportunity came when the statue came forward with a regular down-strike. Scott knocked the blow to his right, then quickly slipped the claymore's blade over the statue's right arm and under its weapon's shaft. From here, the terrier stepped closer and cranked his weapon in a counterclockwise motion, and the sheer leverage forced the stone fingers to lose grip of the staff. Scott kept the sword's rotating momentum going, smashing the claymore's cross-guard into the statue's face. The terrier kept going still, spinning from the cross-guard blow into a back-kick while simultaneously drawing his large-bore blaster handgun with his empty left hand. The statue-warrior had been knocked back a few feet as Scott had expected – he brought the handgun to bear on his opponent and fired three blazing shots into the stunned stone figure.

* Blam! * Blam! * Blam! *

Nothing.

The statue's prominent nose had broken off from the cross-guard blow, and three black scorches marked its chest, but the stone figure was otherwise unaffected. The statue-warrior came at the terrier again.

The stone figure kept hammering at Scott with the same unrelenting robotic precision to its staff technique. The stone opponent wasn't going to end this fight quickly, and it didn't need to. It'd only be a matter of time for Scott Aberdeen to become tired and worn out, for his own technique to get sloppy from exhaustion. That's when the statue warrior, which didn't use organic muscles or need any breath, could easily finish the breathless terrier off. In many respects, the battle was almost like fighting an opponent wearing power-armor...

"That's it!"

Power-armor clad fighters retained most of their natural agility, were notoriously heavy, and practically indestructible, much like this statue-warrior. The way to beat power-armor was to strike at the weak points, the joints. But the statue-warrior had no 'weak point' at its joints, it was made of stone. However tough this statue-warrior was, the broken nose proved it was far from indestructible, and had its weaknesses. Wood splinters and snaps, metal bends and peels away, and stone will crack and crumble.
One good thrust is all it'd take...

The statue-warrior came in for a low sweep at Scott's left keg. He blocked the strike with a low guard and followed-through with a heavy downward strike. As expected, the statue-warrior caught the blade with the middle of the staff. Scott lunged forward underneath, intending to slam the claymore's hard pommel into his opponent's chin with an uppercut blow, but it never connected...

"Agh!"

The statue-warrior intercepted the terrier with a solid full-footed kick to the chest, as if the stone figure were kicking down a door. The blow knocked Scott away several feet hard on his back, yet he managed to use the momentum to roll backwards onto his feet again. There were definitely some cracked ribs and bruising, but the terrier had more immediate concerns and couldn't be bothered. He stepped forward and resumed battle once more against his stony opponent...

Blade and staff clashed again in the deadly dance of the duel. One fighter unnaturally patient and methodical, the other brash and uncanny. Neither could find an opening in the other to exploit, and the fight seemed a stalemate for some time. Time; the more it passed, the more Scott Aberdeen wore himself out, and the more his technique would slip while his opponent held rock steady. He needed to end the fight, and end it quickly. When the statue-warrior thrust its staff once again, the terrier was only barely able to deflect it down, between his legs...

Scott reached down and grabbed the staff in his left hand. The terrier chambered his blade back for one final thrust, and engaged the weapon's impact mechanism for the fatal blow. But before he could launch his attack, the statue-warrior hefted the staff upward over its head, with Scott still holding on. He kept on going, where the floor was coming down to crush him on the other side. And there was something else: the statue-warrior's unprotected back. There weren't even seconds left...

Scott flipped the claymore into a backhand grip, readied the blade over his right shoulder, and waited for the right instant – there'd only be one chance at this. Descending headfirst toward the floor above him, the terrier jammed the point of his sword into the small of his opponent's back as hard and as quickly as he could~

-

-----

-

When Scott opened his eyes, he was staring at the hilt of his sword, stuck straight into the statue-warrior's back. He was laying on the platform floor just behind his opponent, where he must've landed on his back. The terrier pushed himself onto his feet, staggering from the shooting pains. Those cracked ribs we sure as hell stinging now. The impaled statue-warrior stood stock still, holding the staff over its lifeless head. Scott grasped the hilt of his impact claymore, reengaged the impact mechanism, and twisted the blade with whatever might he still had.

* Crack! *

The statue broke into several pieces, collapsing into nothing more than a pile of rubble across the platform. Scott brushed the dust off his blade, sheathed it, and noticed something off. The pieces of broken stone began to glow with a blue light, and emitted a sound like a hundred voices all whispering at once. Then a small luminescent cloud, radiating the same indigo, blue rose out of the debris into the center of the chamber.

"Get back Aberdeen, you have no idea what that is..."
Harrison had stepped onto the platform, striding steadily toward the statue-warrior's broken remains.

"And you do?" Scott asked, backing away as ordered.

The lanky canine slowed down, gazing upon the small glowing cloud with the same wonder as a child.
"I will soon enough."

The cloud descended, and hovered in front of Harrison for a few moments, like it was evaluating him. Then the cloud surged forward, knocking the lanky canine off his feet as he became engulfed in the glowing aurora, but he didn't fall. Instead, Harrison was lifted several feet off the ground, where he hung in the air suspended by nothing. The glowing blue aurora began to fade, and Harrison descended back to the floor. The mysterious luminescent cloud had all but disappeared by the time he made contact with solid ground.

Scott reached down and helped Harrison to his feet
"What the bloody hell just happened tae ye?"

The lanky canine looked up, and in his eyes were a pair of bright violet lights where only his black pupils should've been.
"I'm alright, that's what it was supposed to do."

"And what is supposed tae do that?!" The oily black terrier demanded, "I've seen me fair share of strange happenings, but this business is something straight from a cheap fairy-story."

"The only difference between magic and science, is an understanding..."
He fished a pair of dark lensed sunglasses out of a pocket and put them on, concealing his shining eyes.
"If I told you exactly what you were getting into, would you have believed me? Would you still have taken this job?"

Scott couldn't come up with a response, and only fidgeted in his speechlessness.

"You don't have to answer..."
Harrison turn and began toward the exit.
"If you're finished back there Beverly, we need to leave."

The mustard yellow avian had gone to the fallen statue-warrior, and was collecting a few of the smaller pieces when Harrison called to her.
"Sure thing."
But before she left, she picked the statue-warrior's staff from the rubble, which had shrunken back into the compact form the stone figure first held.

-

-----

-

The group left the same way they came in through the narrow, lifeless corridor to the surface. None of them spoke a word on the way out, the silence marred only by the sound of their own footsteps. When they reached the surface, the group was greeted by the jungle's sweltering heat, the glare of the suddenly bright light, and a surprise.

Seemingly from nowhere, four soldiers in unmarked camouflaged uniforms materialized out from behind their cover. They all wore masks and headsets that covered their faces, and were equipped with a variety of top quality small arms. When the soldiers moved, it was with the silent and sure step of only the most elite.

"Drop your weapons." one of the soldiers ordered, with an assault rifle aimed squarely at Scott's face.

And the terrier did so, slinging the impact claymore and scabbard off his back, and removing his blaster handgun from its holster.

Another voice spoke, but it wasn't any of the soldiers.
"Arno Harrison, you surprise me. I didn't think you had it in you."
The latest speaker stepped out from behind a nearby tree, casually, as if he were just taking a pleasant stroll. He was an eagle plumed white on his head, dark brown on his wings, and dressed in unremarkable but appropriate clothing for the hot and humid tropical climate.

"Who are you?" Harrison demanded, "What's going on here?"

The eagle moved in, stopping between two of the silent soldiers.
"That's not important, but what is important is who you are and what you're doing here."

"What are you talking about? I'm just a scientist."

"Of course you are, and why would an innocent scientist like yourself need to conduct field research in secret, with such a heavily armed escort?"
He pointed out Scott standing to the lanky canine's left a few feet.
"Let me make this simple Dr. Harrison, I have you pinned down in direct violation of the Sauria treaty on at least a dozen counts, all of which Union Congress can rightfully prosecute~"

"I don't believe this!..." Harrison snapped back, infuriated. "You have absolutely no idea what's been here all along, do you? Not even the Saurian natives understand what they have, and they live on this goddamn planet. There's no telling what could happen if it were to fall into the wrong hands."

"My thoughts exactly..."
The eagle stepped back, speaking in the same nonchalant tone of an ordinary conversation despite the extraordinary circumstances.
"So are you going to come with me quietly? Or do I have to take you as a prisoner?"

Arno Harrison glared back at him through the dark lenses of his glasses.
"I didn't come this far and go through all this trouble to see my life's work strangled by red tape."
The lights began to shine through his glasses, and the aurora started to flicker in his hands.

The eagle released a disappointed sigh, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way."
He gestured forward toward the group, and the soldiers closed in on the lanky canine.

Harrison held his hands in front of him, both now ablaze in the blue aurora.
"Just try it!"
Lightning cracked and erupted from his outstretched arms, striking each of the camouflage-clad figures in the face before they had a chance to fire. The soldiers' cries of pain were barely heard over the crackling screech, and the sunlight was overwhelmed for a time by the blazing blue arcs of electrostatic discharge.

The lightning stopped, and the four soldiers' lifeless bodies fell dead to the jungle floor. The mutilated corpses stank of scorched flesh, still sizzling and smoking from the bizarre attack. Their faces were burnt into featureless black husks which barely clung to their skulls, and the headsets were nothing more than twisted melted shells.

Arno Harrison appeared unharmed, even cracking a satisfied smile at his deadly handiwork. But then his breathing became a labored wheezing, and his knees started to buckle beneath him. The lanky canine collapsed to the ground as he was overcome by a brutal fit of coughs, hacking up an inky black liquid onto the jungle floor.

"Dr. Harrison!"
Beverly rushed to the fallen scientist, helping him onto his back. But when she took her hand from Harrison's arm, his fur fell out as if it wasn't even attached in the first place.

"What's happening tae him?" Scott asked as he scooped up his handgun

"I don't know." the mustard yellow avian answered, "It's like radiation poisoning, but all at once."

"See what ye can do..."
The terrier brought his weapon up and quickly scanned the trees for any movement, any sign of reinforcements. The four unknown soldiers were quite dead and not a threat. The nonchalant eagle however was nowhere to be found – no body, and no signs that he stuck around.

Deeming the area secure, Scott holstered his high-caliber handgun and went to investigate one of the soldier's bodies. The closest fell on his back, still clutching the grip of his state-of-the-art modular assault rifle – definitely more than a mere grunt, or gun for hire. The terrier stripped away the flex-armor vest and undid the military-style jacket underneath, where the dead soldier's ID tags hung around his neck.

[POOLE, FRANCIS, K]
[M8564902, C/B+]
[CSOF: Ε]
[NORELPREF]

It was an ID tag for the Cornerian Special Forces.

Scott immediately stepped back, and drew his handgun once again as he surveyed his surroundings. A second wave could be anywhere, lurking, stalking. Special Forces were deployed almost exclusively either for the highest level of danger or the highest level of secrecy, often both in tandem. The real question mark was still who that eagle was, and what interest he has in Dr. Harrison's work...

The terrier returned where Beverly tended the downed canine scientist, still anxious of the environment around him.
"How's he doing?" Scott asked.

Beverly rubbed a hand against her forehead, and answered in a flat, matter-of-fact tone that almost seemed out of place considering the circumstances.
"He's dead."

"Then there's nothing more we can do."
The terrier reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, but we really~"

The mustard yellow avian quickly stood up from Harrison's dead body, cutting Scott off.
"We should leave, now."
Without a second's hesitation, she hefted her pack back onto her shoulders and started on her way.

"Aye, I was just about tae suggest that..."
Scott retrieved his impact claymore and scabbard, and continued back down the trail they came in on.

-

-

History is an account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves; and soldiers, mostly fools.

-Ambrose Bierce-

-

-

Author Note:

I am at a turning point in writing this story. Currently, I'm debating whether to continue Legacy as a single story or to break up the coming sections into distinct volumes, most likely as a trilogy.

I've grappled with this issue for some time now, and I'm just not sure which direction to take it. Your input is much appreciated.