Undercover Operations

[Danny]

i feel i've been neglecting UO in favour of Fragments. i think fragments is better, but UO was my first, so i've written some more.

so here it is... the triumphant return etc.

CHAPTER 41

“I tell you, it’s creepy.”

“I can imagine. I’m glad my pants don’t talk to me!”

“Shh…”

Volt and Rettick shut up, but could hear nothing.

“What?”

Mildar made an exasperated sound. “I heard something; shut up!”

They fell quiet again. This time, they heard a faint rustle of leaves. They prepared for flight, in case it was caused by wildlife. When the cause of the rustling emerged, however, it was almost as far from wildlife as possible.

“At Last! I thought I’d never see another slig!”

Volt and Rettick were speechless. The slig before them was quite tall, and a darker shade of green than they were. It was clearly quite a bit older than them, but wasn’t haggard and grey, in the same way most old sligs were; this slig had obviously been keeping fit. Even Mildar seemed surprised at the sight of a slig among the forest mudokons.

“I’m Mebek. I haven’t seen another slig for years! I’m so glad to see you!” He turned and called into the trees, making the same chirping noise that the mudokons had made.

“He says we’re unarmed,” translated Mildar.

At his call, the mudokons began appearing, as if from nowhere, until they were completely surrounded.

“Don’t worry; they won’t hurt you. They were a bit suspicious at first, but as long as you don’t do anything to lose their trust, they’ll be fine with you.”

Several mudokons approached Volt and Rettick, chirping loudly. [“They’re just asking Mebek about you.” Mildar translated.]

“So where have you come from?” asked Mebek.

After a second, Rettick replied. “We used to work in the factory.”

Mebek looked puzzled. “Factory?”

Volt looked at him, concerned. “Was the factory not there when you came here? You must have been here a long time, if you’ve never heard of Grozit’s Weapons Factory.”

Mebek looked at him in surprise. “Grozit? Short, wide glukkon? He’s alive?”

“Well, yeah. Why did you think he was dead?”

He sighed. “Because he never came back for me.”

This took a second to sink in, then Rettick worked it out. “You knew Grozit?”

“It sounds like we have a lot to talk about. Would you like to accompany us back to our village, and we can exchange stories.”

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, the mudokons began to disappear into the trees once more. Mebek turned and began to walk off.

“Come on!”

Puzzled, Volt and Rettick followed.

CHAPTER 42

Jal shook his head, as he walked in the darkness. Arim had run away somewhere, along with Neb and several other mudokons. Ana had gone to find them, and now she was lost as well. He, Bil, Int, and the others had been searching for hours, to no avail. The missing mudokons hadn’t shown up in any of their houses. After two hours, Jal had left Bil and Int to continue their search, and had gone to find Meet and Sillan, whom he hadn’t seen for a while, and was worried about.

What was wrong with those idiots? Couldn’t they see that cooperation with the sligs was the only way that they were going to achieve victory in the upcoming battle? And now they’d split the tribe in two with their pathetic posturing. Jal hoped that they were happy. Well, no, he hoped that they were miserable; he was being ironic.

Was that Sill? He thought he could see that silvery shape hovering down by the river. He changed direction to meet them.

“Hey! Sill!”

The silvery shape moved; it was him. As Jal ran towards him, he saw Meet standing beneath him. The two were never far apart. Meet turned to face Jal.

“Hi.”

Sill bleeped a greeting.

Jal, a little out of breath, tried to tell them everything. “Greeb’s back, but the-”

“We heard.” Meet never sounded too cheerful, but he sounded particularly low today, for obvious reasons. “Ana was just telling us.” He nodded his head in the direction of the river, where a figure that Jal hadn’t noticed was sitting dejectedly by the waterside. Jal walked down the bank and sat beside her.

Ana looked up. “It’s all falling apart, isn’t it?”

Jal put his arm around her. “We’re just having a few problems. They won’t last. We have a common enemy, after all.”

“Incal’s left as well. With Arim, probably. They were two of our best warriors, and they took a lot of others with them.”

“Bil’ll find them. Him and Int have organised a search party.”

“What if they’ve left the valley? For good, I mean?”

Jal said nothing, but sat there with Ana for a long while, watching the river go by.

There was a bleep from Sillan and a call from Meet. Jal stood up, and saw a large party of mudokons heading towards them. He could see Bil, Int, and Arim, as well as several others, both from Arim’s runaways and from the search party. The tall mudokon with the purple skin and long feather that walked beside Int was probably the one known as Incal.

“Hey, Ana! They’ve found them!”

As Ana stood up, her face lit up, and she ran to Arim and threw her arms around him. Then she hugged Bil. “You found them! Well done!”

Bil was quite surprised to see Ana. “We were worried about you; we thought you’d be with this lot. When you weren’t, we didn’t know what to do.”

“I was here with Sillan and Meet, until Jal came along.” She pulled back, and looked Bil in the face. “Have you lot sorted everything out now?” She looked from Bil and Int to Arim and Incal, who looked at their feet.

Bill put his arm around her. “We’ve come to a compromise. We thought of a way of deciding whether or not we should cooperate that we all respect.”

“What?”

Bil drew a deep breath. “We’re going to ask Mat and Ulis.”

Standing behind Ana, Jal didn’t understand the significance of this, but Ana was shocked. “It’s that serious?”

Bil nodded. “They need to know. I mean, we’re about to go to war. They deserve to have a say in who we ally with.”

“But we haven’t had to take a problem to them for years!”

“This is a big problem.”

Jal shook his head. “Hang on, who are Mat and Ulis again?”

Bil turned to him. “Our King and Queen.”

“Well, surely they deserve a say, then! I mean, if they’re King and Queen…”

Bil sighed. “It isn’t like that. You don’t know Ulis. She’s very secretive. None of us have ever even seen her, apart from Mat, of course. She doesn’t like crowds, and she doesn’t like responsibilities. Mat is normally her spokesperson, the one we see. Ulis hasn’t even left her hut for more than a decade. They don’t bother themselves with the running of the village, although they like to be informed. We’ve told them that we’re going to war, but we never asked them. If we ever have an argument than we can’t sort out by ourselves, we take it to them. They’re kind of the Ultimate Supreme Court, but we haven’t asked them anything for a long time.”

“So this is serious, then?”

Bil nodded. “Very.”

[Danny]

c'mon... chapters don't write themselves, you know... let's have a bit of support for the writerr...

i have chapter's, but i aint posting till you do

[Danny]

okay, so maybe i am going to post, but only because i really want to...

CHAPTER 43

The cell was silent. The two Glukkons faced each other across the room, not speaking, as they had done since Grozit Sr. had been thrown into the cell. They had barely spoken a word since then, except for a few embarrassed greetings at first, which soon petered out.

Grozit Jr. had had enough. “So…”

His father looked up at him. “What?”

Groz licked his lips. “I bet you feel a bit stupid now, don’t you?”

Grozit sighed and lay down on his bunk. “Piss off.”

Groz sighed, and stood. He raised one handfoot before himself, and reached out to the doorway. The forcefield burned him, just as it had every time he tested it. Grozit sniggered.

“It’s not going to go away if you keep touching it, you know!”

Groz glared at him. “It’s not going to go away if you stop thinking about it, either!”

“No, but at least I can get some sleep.”

Groz said nothing, but sat back onto his bunk. Grozit turned over to face him. “When was the last time we were fed?”

Groz sighed. “Half an hour ago, dad.”

“I’m hungry again.”

Groz moaned and turned away. “Pig,” he said quietly.

“Heard that.”

“Good.”

There was another long silence, punctuated only by the constant hum of the forcefield.

“The sligs don’t follow him, you know.”

“Shut up, dad. You know that the sligs don’t matter any more. You put the drones into operation, remember?” He shot a glance at the silvery orb hovering on the other side of the forcefield, watching but not exactly seeing. He reached out one handfoot off the end of the bed and removed a wall panel, revealing the circuitry beneath. Grozit sat up, curious.

“What’re you doing?”

“Don’t look at it! Pretend it isn’t happening! Just act normal. The drones aren’t very observant, and this one’s just been programmed to watch us, I think, and zap us if we manage to leave the cell. It doesn’t seem that bothered by what we do inside, but I’m worried about cameras, so it’s best to be as discreet as I can.”

Grozit lay back down again. “So what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to deactivate the forcefield.”

“What good’ll that do if that tin can’ll zap us as soon as we set foot outside?”

Groz shot a stare at his father. “It’s a start.”

They lay there, Groz’s handfeet working furiously.

CHAPTER 44

All things considered, Snikkit was pleased with the way things had turned out. That fool Grozit hadn’t been hard to get rid of, and although he still had no idea what that… that thing was, it had left him alone so far since he took control, so he didn’t think he really had to worry about it. None of the junior executives seemed to mind Snikkit coming to power, as it meant a step up the promotion ladder for most of them, and of course the slaves really had no choice.

His mood was about to take a turn for the worse.

“Sir?”

A slig messenger [he’d allowed sligs to remain in certain jobs: those jobs that involved communicating with Snikkit. Of course, not in any post that required weapons…] was standing in the entrance to his office.

“What?”

The slig looked very nervous. This was a bad sign. “We’ve intercepted a message from the Labs, sir.”

“Who was it sent to?”

“Cartel Central, sir.”

That got Snikkit’s attention. “What? What about?” The Labs were, like the rest of the forest operation, meant to remain a secret from Cartel Central, so that their profits would remain tax-free. Of course, the Labs wouldn’t lose anything when Central took control away from Snikkit, but they must have some kind of profitable idea, or they’d have left things as they were.

“They say that they have captured a… a female slig, sir. A Fertile one.”

There was a pause. So that was their idea. They intended to sell the slig to the Cartel, for fear of breeding their own sligs. Of course, it was an idle threat; they couldn’t breed sligs unless they had a fertile male as well.

But what if they did? Maybe they’d been keeping one, waiting until they found a female. Or what if they could refertilise sligs or something, with some new technology? Maybe they could clone sligs so that they’d be fertile. This was certainly worth checking out; if they could, then some people back at Central would get very pissed off, and come down here to stomp around and try and intimidate the Vykkers.

And if they did that, they’d discover our logging operations…

He stood up. “Send a message to Central saying that I’ll investigate the claims, so there’s no need to send any inspectors or anything, and prepare a Flyer to take me down to the labs. Keep an eye on things while I’m gone, and call me if anything happens. Anything at all.”

“Aye sir.”

[Danny]

okay, this time i really mean it, no more chapters until people reply!

CHAPTER 45

Tillyn opened her eyes to see Gormanul’s dark shape pacing up and down before the doorway. Occasionally he would pause to inspect the lock, shake the door, or tap the window glass. The slig guard on the other side was watching his futile efforts with amused interest, but with no real concern. Orim was probably right; the cell was inescapable.

“I wouldn’t bother. Orim says it can’t be broken down or anything.”

Gorm turned to her. “Orim?”

Tillyn paused. She hadn’t thought that maybe Gorm didn’t know about Orim. “You mean you haven’t noticed him?” She turned away, waited until her eyes got accustomed to the dark, and then pointed. “He’s over there. He’s our cellmate.”

Gorm approached Orim, who was asleep. He gently lifted Orim to his feet, and looked at him. Orim stirred, and looked back. “Hello,” he said, sleepily.

Gorm looked at him suspiciously. “Hello,” he said, as he sat him back down on the floor. He walked across the cell, and sat down beside Tillyn. Tillyn shook her head. Gorm had never been very good at talking to strangers. He lost all confidence. He was perfectly good at hurting things when he felt he had to, but was totally at a loss when it came to talking to people.

Tillyn glanced at the guard. He seemed to have lost interest in the activities in the cell, and had turned his back on the door. As she watched, he was distracted by something to his left. His head disappeared briefly out of sight, to be replaced by another slig, who Tillyn recognised as the scientist slig who’d brought them here, Zak.

The door swung open, and Zak leaned inside. “Quickly,” he whispered, “Come on!”

Gormanul, unsure of himself, looked at Tillyn, who was already standing up. She turned to him, beckoning him. Orim was already standing up, but seemed unsure of what to do. Tillyn grabbed his arm and made for the door. After a moment’s hesitation, Gorm followed.

Out in the corridor, the first thing that met their eyes was Dr. Angrak injecting something into the guard slig, who was lying unconscious against a wall. An Intern was standing with its back to them, facing the wall.

“What’s he doing?” Tillyn asked, pointing to the Vykker.

“The Doc? He’s just administering a Lethal Injection to the guard.” Zak’s voice was very matter-of-fact; it seemed that he saw this sort of thing on a regular basis.

“Why?”

“So he doesn’t tell anyone who it was who knocked him out. It’s totally painless.” Zak’s calm tone was quite unnerving. Tillyn glanced at the Intern.

“What about him?”

Zak followed her gaze. “The Intern? We bribed it to look the other way and forget all about this.”

“Bribed it? With moolah?”

Zak shook his head. “With enough Sedative Drugs to make him forget all about this.”

As Tillyn watched, the Intern filled up a small syringe from a large jar, and began to stick the needle into his arm. Tillyn shivered, and turned away. The Vykker seemed to be done.

“This way, please…” His voice grated on Tillyn’s ears, but she followed. The Vykker’s eyebrows rose when he saw Orim, but he shrugged and said nothing.

As they walked, Tillyn strode beside Zak. “Where are you taking us?”

“To the flyer hangar.”

“Why?”

Zak looked at her as if she were stupid. “So you can get away, of course!”

Tillyn raised an eyebrow. “You’re letting us go?”

Zak snorted. “Of course. You’re a very important young lady.”

Tillyn wasn’t sure whether to laugh or punch him. “A WHAT?!”

Zak paused, puzzled, and then threw back his head and laughed. “You mean you don’t know? You’re the one great hope for the slig race to finally be free and you don’t know?”

Tillyn looked around in bewilderment, not sure what was happening. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? You’re Female!”

Tillyn stopped walking, and Gorm bumped into her. Zak stopped with her. “I’m a what?”

“Oh, for Odd’s sake, do you mean you’ve never suspected a thing? Do they teach you nothing in school these days?”

“But… But how could I be female?”

“You were born female. The Glukkons missed you when they were checking for females, and then somehow you escaped the sterilisation process.”

This was too much. “You mean I’m fertile?”

“Hurry up, you two!” Dr. Angrak made no attempt to keep his impatience from his voice. “Do you want us all to be killed?”

Slightly dazed, Tillyn staggered forward. They continued in silence for a while, until Gormanul tensed slightly, and gripped Tillyn’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Gorm,” she asked, “Have you heard something?”

Dr. Angrak turned. “Why have we –”

He never completed that sentence, and the sound of machine gun fire drowned out any replies. Angrak spun as bullets chopped his body, then fell to the ground. The others saw a Vykker and two sligs briefly, before the firing resumed. They dived down a side corridor to their right, but not before a bullet drove itself into Tillyn’s upper right arm. She let out a cry, and Gormanul lifted her in his arms and ran, closely followed by Orim and Zak.

Out of breath, Zak panted. “If we can… If we take a left soon, we should… be able to reach the Flyer Hangar.”

Nodding, Gormanul twisted to the left, pulling Orim and Zak with him, as a hail of bullets flew down the corridor behind them. The click of slig feet behind them spurred them on. They took another left and a right, so that their pursuers didn’t get a clear shot at their backs, and Zak pointed to a large set of doors ahead. He put on an extra spurt of speed, and typed in a code on the external lock. The doors swung open as they heard their pursuers turn the corner behind them, and bullets began to ricochet from the walls around them.

Leading the way, Zak ran through the doors and dived to the left. The others followed, to see Zak fiercely typing into the internal lock. The doors just managed to swing shut before the guards reached it. A light above them flashed, saying: ‘Sealed’. They could hear their pursuers banging on the door outside, but Tillyn breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to look around.

There was only one flyer in the Hanger, a small three-person one. Its rounded oblong shape looked slightly menacing in the dim light. Through the main windscreen, they could see that the inside was dark. Zak held up a small square of card. “This’ll let you use the flyer. It has an autopilot, don’t worry.”

Tillyn turned. “ ‘Us’? What about you? Aren’t you coming?”

Zak shook his head sadly. “There’s only room for three, or the Flyer won’t take off. You’re the one we need to get away, and you’ll need him to protect you and the mudokon can guide you to the native territories.”

“But… They’ll torture you and kill you.”

“No they won’t.” Quickly but calmly, Zak drew a small pistol from a pocket, and held it to his head.

“No!”

Tillyn tried to grab it from him, but he squeezed the trigger before her hands (one of which was weak as a result of the bullet wedged in it) could stop him. The weapon produced only a small noise, and there was very little blood, but Zak’s eyes curled up into his head, and his body slumped to the floor. Tillyn caught it, but its weight caused her bullet-wound to hurt, and she dropped the body to the floor. She stood for a few seconds looking at the still corpse. The hangar was silent except for the muffled bangs from the other side of the door.

A hand lay on her shoulder. She looked up into the sympathetic eyes of Gormanul. They stood, looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, then Gorm gently but firmly led her to the flyer, where Orim had already inserted the security card.

The instrument panel was brightly lit up, and a computerised voice asked them if it could help them.

“Errm… Close the hatch,” Orim said, “And, err, start the engines?”

The Hatchway closed, and they felt the jerk of startup, followed by the hum of the engines. Orim glanced at Tillyn, his eyes asking for help.

“Take us out?” she suggested.

They were shocked by the sudden movement, but became accustomed to it. As they flew towards the Hangar doors, they began to open. The difference in pressure sucked many of the objects from the hangar out into the air, including Zak’s body, which began to fall down towards the dusty ground. Before it hit, though, they were too far away to see clearly.

[Danny]

ah, who am i kidding, no-one's ever going to post here... long chap here, if anyone's still reading...

CHAPTER 46

“Maybe he never intended to return, I don’t know, but he’d seemed so… so honest when he left. Something must have changed.”

Rettick and Volt exchanged glances. They had a good idea of what had changed, but weren’t sure if it was safe to say it here. They were in Mebek’s hut, just outside the Forest Mudokons’ village. Apparently Mebek had refused to be given a hut within the village, insisting that he wasn’t a part of the village, but that he was just passing through, despite having been there for almost three years now. Apart from Volt and Rettick (and Mildar, of course), Mebek was the only other occupant of the hut, having told the mudokons that they needed to speak privately. Even so, Rettick wouldn’t put it past the ever-suspicious mudokons to be listening on the other side of the wall.

“He’d always been keen on the idea of exploring the forest, and he kind of brought me round to the idea as well. When he received permission for extended leave, he invited me to join him on this journey. We were the best of friends at the time, and I jumped at the chance. We travelled light, and made good progress: we’d learned which plants can be safely eaten, and how to catch certain non-poisonous animals.

“Then, after about two months’ travel, we startled a small herd of Nokkims, who were making a rare trip out in the open.”

“What are Nokkims?” Volt piped up.

“They’re insect-like creatures, related (we decided) to Paramites, but vegetarian. They live in packs, inside the branches and trunks of the trees, feeding on the soft pulp and sap. They’re quite harmless unless you make any sudden movements or loud noises near them, at which point they will attack you. We managed to fend them off, but one of the badly bit my arm.” Mebek twisted in his chair, to show them the scars running up and down his arm. “We’d seen signs of the Forest Muds before, but we hadn’t been able to talk to them or make any kind of close contact with them; they’d pretty much avoided us until now.

“But when they saw that I was injured, they must have decided that they couldn’t just let me die – and I would have died; nokkim bites are poisonous – so they approached us, and took us back to their village, where they began to patch me up. It was taking a while, though, and Grozit got restless, and so he decided to go on ahead, and come back to get me in a month or so, once my treatment was completed. But he never came back. I’ve always assumed he was killed. Now it seems that something else happened.”

Rettick glanced at Volt, then leaned forward. “We have a good idea what happened to Grozit, but first we need to make sure that we’re secure here. Is there anyone else listening, that you know of? Are you sure that no one could be listening through the walls?”

Mebek laughed, nervously. “No, the walls are soundproof. Anything you say here won’t go beyond these walls unless you want it to. Why? Why don’t you want them to hear this?”

Volt leaned forward. “I think Mildar would be better at explaining this.”

Mebek’s brow furrowed, confused. “Mildar? Who? I thought your names were Volt and Ret?”

Rettick laid a hand on Mebek’s shoulder. “Just close your eyes for a few seconds. We’ll explain later.”

Mebek seemed about to protest, then shrugged, and closed his eyes reluctantly. In deference to Mildar’s dislike of being watched as he changed, Volt and Rettick also closed theirs.

There was a shrill metallic screech, which faded to a dull groan, like a bone being slowly wrenched from its socket. When Rettick opened his eyes once more, an old Vykker sat beside him, holding Volt in his arms. Rettick noticed that Mildar had chosen a more natural Vykker look than the one in which he had first met Rettick, but had still got rid of some of his scars. He seemed to be trying to present the least threatening image he could. He sat Volt down between them.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Mebek slowly opened his eyes a little slit, then opened them wide when he saw the Vykker sitting before him. After a few seconds, his eyes registered Volt’s current lack of pants, and he stared suspiciously at Mildar.

“You were his –”

“Yes,” Mildar agreed, “There was a good reason. I’ve got the ability to change my physical form. Unfortunately, the people of this village already know of me and don’t like me.”

Mebek’s face lost none of its suspicion. “They’ve told me about you. Didn’t you impersonate one of them?”

“That was me, yes.”

Mebek smiled slightly. “Idiot. Should have approached them as yourself; they’d have accepted you then.”

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes.”

“Mm.” Mebek leaned forward a little. “So why are you so desperate to get in here then?”

“Well, actually, it’s mainly because of what happened to your old friend.”

“What, Grozit? What happened to him?”

Mildar licked his lips hesitantly. “Well, we don’t know the full story – we never knew about your part in this, for example – but from what we’ve been able to work out, after he left here (we don’t know how long after) he probably found some kind of temple, where he met – and don’t just laugh – a god.” Mebek didn’t laugh. “Anyway, to cut a long story short, he made a deal that allowed him to exploit the forest, something that had previously been impossible, due to the protection provided for the forest by that god. We came here to warn these people, and to persuade them to help us in trying to stop Grozit.”

Mebek looked slightly dazed. “I can’t believe that Grozit would want to destroy the forest.” He looked up at the trio before him. “He loved it so much.”

“We don’t know exactly what happened there. It is possible that it was the god that corrupted Grozit, instead of the other way round. Either way, it’s important that we stop him, agreed?” Mebek didn’t respond. “Agreed?”

Dejectedly, Mebek nodded. “I’d heard about this god. The villagers make sacrifices to it occasionally. They call it the Grilken or something like that. They live in total fear of it. Or they used to.”

“What happened?”

Mebek was silent for a moment. “They believe that the Shrykull has returned to rid them of it. Some say they’ve seen it in the forest.”

Mildar exchanged glances with his companions. “The Crossbreed. It was originally designed to look like the Shrykull, to ensure that mudokons wouldn’t want to attack it until it was too late.”

Mebek looked up, puzzled. “What?”

“Were the Vykkers’ Labs around when you were last out there?”

“No, but I’d read about them. They’ve been putting in little appearances now and again for ages now.”

“Not they. We. [“So that’s what a Vykker looks like,” Mebek stared] And we’re sticking around now; don’t ask me why, I never got to make executive decisions. Anyway, we’ve been experimenting a lot with genetics recently, and produced a few creatures, mostly based on combinations of existing creatures. One of our recent creations was roughly based upon a scrab, with more than a bit of paramite in it. It was designed to look like the shrykull, to confuse any mudokons it attacked, until it killed them.”

Mebek leaned over to Rettick. “And this guy’s on our side?” Rettick nodded, although he wasn’t too sure himself.

“Anyway, it escaped just after I did, and it’s lost somewhere in the forest.” Mildar looked down, thoughtfully. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage.”

Volt looked up at him. “How?”

“Well, if we assume that Grozit stumbled onto this Grilken’s temple, then the easiest way to find it would be to ask the mudokons to lead us there, but we already know that they seem quite suspicious of us.”

Rett folded his arms. “What’s your point?”

Mildar reached into a pocket in his loincloth, and pulled out the homing beacon he had used in the forest. “I can sort of control the creature with this. As well as attracting or repelling it, I can hold it in position, and stop it from killing people. I could lure it here, and we could present it as the Shrykull, with ourselves as acolytes. We’ve come here to guide the Shrykull to the Grilken’s temple, to destroy it, and would they like to show us the way.”

Rettick grinned and shook his head. “So, basically, this god-type thing comes down from wherever the hell it is mudokon gods come from, with all his magic and all, intending to magic away this other god, and basically just asks for directions? That doesn’t sound very god-like to me!”

“It’d be more like offering to allow them to accompany us.”

“And when we get there?” Volt’s voice sounded hollow, coming from below the others. “What are our plans for actually killing the thing?”

Mildar grimaced. “I… I hadn’t actually thought that far.”

“I mean, this thing’s a god, how can we possibly hope to kill it?”

“We may not have to, if we can persuade it that we are the right side here.”

Rettick rolled his eyes. “So we go there and basically hope it likes us?”

Mildar shot a glance at Rettick, fire in his eyes. “We have to try something, or the forest is ancient history.”

Rett sighed, and got to his feet. “All right. Let’s try it.”

[Sl'askia]

*purrs with glee* ah glad to see more of this wonderful fic posted. I was beinging to wonder if you had given up on writting it....

[Danny]

only one? *sigh* oh well, getting better...

okay, here's a mudokon king. i know this is almost certainly totally inaccurate, but what the hell, i've seen worse...

CHAPTER 47

The Nest Building was huge. It was by far the biggest building in the village, and the only one Jal had seen that was at least partially constructed from stone. Coincidentally, it was also the oldest looking building, making Jal wonder if the skill of stoneworking had been lost over the years. If it had, he mused, it was merely one symptom of the decay that was occurring throughout Mudos. A decay, he reminded himself, that they were about to attempt to turn back.

He glanced to his left, at Arim, who was fuming silently at the mere suggestion of cooperation with sligs. Int, on his right, was staring fixedly at the only entrance to the Nest Building, which Bil had walked into only ten minutes previously. Jal wondered what Int was thinking. He looked worried, but whether he was worried for the sligs or worried about the upcoming battle, it was hard to tell.

Looking around, Jal saw some children playing on a rock, laughing unselfconsciously. He thought he recognised some of them as Bil and Ana’s children, but he couldn’t really remember what they looked like. He wondered what would happen to them. Whether the attack on the factory was successful or not, life wouldn’t be the same any more. If they were lucky, things would change for the better, but it would be too much to ask to have no casualties. Bil and Ana might be killed, and then where would their children be? Int would probably look after them, but what if the factory’s forces organised a counterattack on the village? If all the warriors died in the attack, who would defend the village? No, he shouldn’t think like that. They were going to succeed, they would win.

Something was happening; Jal felt Arim and Int standing next to him. He stood as well, and saw the curtains in the doorway parting. Bil strode out, and held the curtain aside while another figure ducked under the lintel, then straightened. The mudokon was tall, at least a foot taller than Bil, and wore long robes. Its skin was a very light shade of green, and Jal guessed that it didn’t get out in the sunlight much.

Bil cleared his throat. “Mat, may I introduce Jal, the newcomer. The friend of the sligs.”

A slight smile, almost unnoticeable, played on Mat’s lips. He strode forward until he stood over Jal. It was strange. Although Mat wasn’t that much taller than Jal, he had a bearing that suggested that Jal was very small and insignificant beside him. He studied Jal as if he were studying a laboratory specimen. Eventually, he placed a hand on Jal’s shoulder. “Come,” he said, tonelessly, and turned to walk back into the Nest Building. Jal stood uncertainly, but then saw Bil’s frantic gestures to follow Mat, so he hurried to catch up with the tall king. He had the presence of mind to hold the curtains open while Mat walked in.

Jal found himself in a kind of anteroom, with a few chairs and wall decorations, but little else. As soon as Jal let the curtains drop, Mat visibly sagged, suddenly seeming very small indeed. He sat unsteadily on a chair, and motioned for Jal to sit beside him.

“Sorry about that,” he sighed, “I have to keep up appearances. It’s hard to stay regal at times like these.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For looking down on you like that. It’s just that it’s what people expect.” Mat closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Got a headache now. Not used to the light.”

Jal cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Have you given any thought as to whether or not to cooperate with the sligs?”

Mat said nothing for a while, just holding his head in his hands. “You don’t understand how hard these decisions are for us. Normally they don’t bother to consult us about anything. We’re just functional. They think that, as long as we don’t ask them to have children, they don’t ask us for advice. So when they do ask us, it’s when it’s vitally important. You can’t imagine the pressure on me here. Ulis does most of the decision-making – after all, who’d argue with her? – but I’m the one who has to tell them. And what if they don’t like the decision? What happens then? Do they go along with us anyway, or do they just do what they like?” He fell silent. “There hasn’t been an issue this contentious brought before us for a long time. Usually the decisions they bring before us are decisions that they already know the solutions to, but don’t like it, so they want us to tell them to do it, to absolve them of responsibility. But this issue has divided the community, and whatever we say, we’ll alienate half of the village.”

There was a long pause. Mat seemed to be waiting for Jal to say something, so Jal cleared his throat. “If you’d met some of these sligs, you wouldn’t hesitate. I trust them with my life. During Abe’s assault on the Soulstorm Brewery, I lost my arm while Abe was trying to get me to safety. Abe and his companions left me for dead, but two sligs risked their lives to get me back to safety and to conceal me until we could escape. Both of those sligs are now being held prisoner until you decide what to do with them. I trust them implicitly, and there are many others like them.” Mat remained silent, looking at his feet, so Jal continued: “The tribe can’t win this battle on its own. We’d be outnumbered and outgunned. If we join forces with the slig workers in the factory and the logging operation, we’d double our own forces at the cost of the enemy’s.”

Mat nodded. Jal could see tears in his eyes. He looked up. “You realise that this will not be a popular decision? I hope we don’t lose anyone here, but from what I’ve heard, there might be a few deserters if I make this decision.”

Mat was looking strangely small and lost. Jal put his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be worth it. It’s the right decision.”

Something seemed to click within Mat, and he stood, regaining his air of regality. Drawing a deep breath, he strode out through the Nest doorway to announce his decision. Jal watched him go with the utmost sympathy. At that moment Jal wouldn’t have wanted to be King for the world.

[Sl'askia]

come people! reply! let this poor guy know you are reading this great fic! *taps claws in annoyence*

[Danny]

*sigh* only dragadon replies. and then only because i made her promise to...

CHAPTER 48

The Guard Captain opened the door to the Director’s Office, and was greeted by a large metal paperweight, which struck him on the forehead. When he ceased cursing and looked up through the pain, the Director was once more sat calmly at his desk, his expression betraying none of the anger and frustration that had flung the paperweight at the Captain. “You have a report for me?”

The Captain knew better than to mention the paperweight attack, so he drew himself up, and drew a deep breath. “Three prisoners escaped, sir. Specimens 46, 304, and 392. A mudokon and two sligs.”

“Including the female?” The Director was impassive. It was clear by the anger showed as the Captain walked in that he already knew all of this, but was merely playing.

The Captain swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“I see. And your men killed Dr. Angrak, of course.”

The Captain began to turn an unhealthy shade of blue. “Well…”

“Despite my specific orders that he was to be kept alive?”

“In a way, yes, sir.”

The Director leaned forward. “Captain, you have served me well up until now, so I am inclined to be lenient with you.”

The Captain’s face flushed with relief. “Oh, Thank-”

The intercom buzzed. When the Director pressed the button, a slig voice filtered through. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but President Snikkit just called, he says he’s on his way here.”

The Director frowned. This was one piece of bad news he hadn’t been expecting. “Why?”

“Says he’s investigating claims about a female slig being held here, and says he wants to negotiate for her to be released into his custody.”

The Director’s smile spread across his face once more. He’d hoped that Snikkit would have intercepted that message.

“Sir? That isn’t all. Supervisor Dran’s also on his way to see you. He says he’s recaptured Specimen 101 – the Scrab-Paramite hybrid that escaped – and wonders if there is some kind of reward.”

The Director smiled. “Ah, a piece of good news. What rank are you?”

The slig voice hesitated. “Lieutenant, sir.”

“Wrong. You are now promoted to Guard Captain. Send Snikkat and Dran up to my office when they get here. And Captain?”

The newly-appointed Captain seemed hesitant. “Sir?”

The Director smiled a wolf-like smile. “Your predecessor is in here. Take him away and dispose of him, would you? Use your imagination.”

“Yes, sir.”

The former Guard Captain turned pale as his successor entered the office, but his fevered glance at the Director brought only a satisfied smile, then he was led away.

[Sl'askia]

another great chap REtt.

*growls* am I the only one reading this fic? If not REPLY to Odds sake! Before I get medevil!

Spider: ut oh...better der as she says...*dives into a fox hole and puts on a helmet*

hey thats my gig...

Spider: *sheepish grin*

[Danny]

*sigh* RIGHT. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER I AM POSTING UNTIL SOMEONE OTHER THAN DRAG REPLIES! I REALLY MEAN IT THIS TIME!

CHAPTER 49

A wire suddenly came loose in Groz’s handfoot. Standing up hurriedly, he tentatively reached out a handfoot to where the forcefield had been. It passed safely through where the forcefield had previously been. Unfortunately, the extended handfoot drew the attention of the guarding Drone, which suddenly made a high-pitched buzz, which ceased when Groz withdrew his handfoot. Groz sat down on his bunk, hoping that the drones weren’t very quick on the uptake. After a couple of minutes, it seemed that the drone had decided that what had happened had been a statistical fluke that it could safely ignore, of something. For whatever reason, it returned to its usual stationary position, from which it could watch the cell silently.

Groz glanced at his father, who was asleep. Just as well, thought Groz, He’d probably just make a run for it and get us both killed anyway…

CHAPTER 50

As the Flyer flew, its occupants sat in silence, broken only by the occasional sharp intake of breath from Tillyn, as Gormanul tended to her bullet wound. Orim stared out of the windows, occasionally correcting the course of the flyer as it flew.

Turning back from the window, he cleared his throat. “So, you’re a female then, are you?”

There was a terse silence from behind him, then Tillyn replied slowly. “So it seems.”

“Never met a female slig before.”

“Neither have I.” With that, Tillyn turned her back on Orim, and Gormanul continued to sew up the wound. The silence enveloped them once more, until Tillyn turned back to Orim. “Where are we going now?”

“My village. My Home. The Mudoris Tribe.”

“Why there?”

“Well,” Orim hesitated, “It’s my home.”

“But do you think they’ll accept us there?”

“They’re very broadminded. Besides, can you think of anywhere better?”

Defeated, Tillyn groaned and sat back. “Sorry, but I’ve lost nearly all of my friends, and I’ve just been told that I’ve been mistaken about my own ****ing gender all my life, so I’m not in the best of moods right now.”

Orim nodded, but didn’t quite appear sure he understood. Tillyn couldn’t blame him. It was a bit of a stupid thing to be confused about, when you thought about it, but then she’d never even considered the possibility that she was female. After all, she didn’t know any other females [as far as I know, she added silently], and had always thought that Skillya was the only female slig in existence. She wondered how many others there were, wandering around thinking they were male.

Orim was suddenly tense. Tillyn sat up, ignoring the pain. “What is it?”

“There’s another flyer ahead.” Orim bent over the controls, pulling up a joystick. Their flyer bucked as he pulled on the joystick, and Tillyn cried out as Gormanul’s needle buried itself in her arm. As the flyer righted itself, and Orim switched back to autopilot, Tillyn pulled herself up next to him, burning with anger.

“What the **** did you do that for?”

“We were going to crash –” Orim began.

“Do you even know how to fly?”

“Well, no…”

“Snikkit.” Gormanul’s voice rose above the others. Tillyn turned to him.

“What?”

“On that flyer. It was Snikkit.”

Tillyn looked behind them, as if she could see Snikkit from here. “You sure?”

Gormanul nodded.

“Who’s Snikkit?” asked Orim.

“A high-up Glukk from the factory.” Tillyn frowned. “I wonder where he’s going…”

[Sl'askia]

hey rett if you want to borrow Malice to maim some ppl just let me know *grins evilly*

BTW great chaps.

Malice: just maim? borrrriiinnnnnggggg

quit you!

[Danny]

fine! just f*ck you all then! that's it! no more of this fic ever now! if you don't care, then i don't care! just f*ck you!

[Teal]

*sits cross legged and does puppy faces* There, I'll sit on this spot just here and be patient... *hopeful face*

*tries to do the constructive-criticism-thingy but has no time left on line* Damn!

Maybe tomorrow

[Danny]

HURRAY! SOMEONE ELSE IS READING, AFTER ALL!

[one reader just isn't enough for a greedy writer like me, sorry drag...]

CHAPTER 51

“Look after Crim, won’t you?” Jal’s eyes gave away his concern.

Int nodded. “I think you’re going to need more looking after than us.”

A voice from their feet rose in agreement. “Yeah, I can look after myself!”

They were gathered on the crest of the hills surrounding the valley. Most of them were going into battle, but a few, such as Int, were staying to take care of the children. True to their word, the warriors had accepted Mat’s decision to cooperate with the sligs, but were making no attempt to conceal their distaste while they did. The stolen Crawler was being loaded with supplies and weapons. It was large enough to comfortably accommodate 800 passengers, so with a little squeezing, they expected to be able to get nearly all 2000 of their warriors on board. Alongside the Crawler, Meetles were being kitted out, for scouting missions. It had been relatively easy to alter the layout to include a Meetle roost, so they were taking 50 of their best into battle with them. Bil, Ana, Jal, and Greeb were stood with Int and Crim, saying awkward goodbyes.

Bil smiled. “We shouldn’t be long. In a week, we’ll either be returning victorious, or we’ll be dead.”

Int mirrored the smile. “See you in a week, then.”

Arim approached from the crawler, making a point of not looking at Greeb. “We’re just about ready to go, Bil.”

Bil turned. “Take care of the kids, Int.”

Int nodded, gloomily. “Good luck. Let’s hope you don’t need it.”

They stood in silence for a while, wondering if this would be the last time they would see each other, Then they boarded the Crawler, and Int and Crim watched it slowly pull away from the Village. They stood watching until they could no longer see the huge vehicle in the darkness.

[Teal]

Oh, didn't envision Crawlers as that big... Wouldn't it sink into the ground?

Anyway. Um... *tries to think of more to say, but can't, so gives up*

[Danny]

well, it's very wide and not very tall, so it doesn't have much pressure on the ground [that ground-hugging shape is why it's called a Crawler, by the way...]

CHAPTER 52

The Crowd was huge. When they’d passed through the village in the trees the day before, it hadn’t seemed large enough to house this many people, and yet here they were, waiting expectantly for some information about the newcomers. Twitching the curtain nervously, Rettick mentally steeled himself. If this goes wrong, he thought, then we may well end up dead, or at least prisoners. He hoped to Odd that Mildar knew what he was doing.

He turned to look back at the others in the Hut. Volt was pacing the floor impatiently, or trying to, except that he had two less limbs than he usually had when he paced impatiently, so he fell down a lot. Mebek and Mildar were having an animated discussion that Rett couldn’t quite catch. Mildar was holding his homing beacon, and frowning. Periodically he would hit the side of the beacon, then shake it, and hold it up to his ear, his brows knotting in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

Mildar looked up at Rettick. “Damn thing doesn’t seem to be working. I think it must have been damaged somehow. I think I can get it working, but it’ll take a minute.”
Mebek sighed. “I’d better go out and talk to them.” As he strode worriedly out, he snagged Rett’s elbow, pulling him along.

“Hey, what ya doing?”

“You’ll have to speak to them as well, as one of the ‘Shrykull’’s servants, and Volt can’t go out without pants, or we’ll have to explain that as well. It’ll be easy.” And with that, he pulled Rettick out onto the wide branch outside his hut.

As they emerged, a murmuring rose up in the crowd, and then fell silent at Mebek’s gestures. Clearing his throat, Mebek spoke out across the crowd in a loud, clear voice. His Chirps and Warblings silenced even the most impatient and noisy villagers, and even Rettick, who couldn’t understand the language, felt moved by the sounds. Mebek seemed able to comfort and arouse interest at once, and this language had a rhythm and melody that Rettick’s own lacked. Rettick’s worries seemed to evapourate, and he realised that, when it came to his turn to speak to the crowd, it didn’t really matter if he made a faux pas, because everything he said would have to be translated by Mebek. The melodic language flowed through him like a wave of calm flowed over his mind, soothing away the little wrinkles of worry, and relaxing the tension from his body, so much that he barely noticed when Mebek stopped talking and turned to him.

“Your turn.”

Rettick stood up straight again. “What have you said to them?”

“Just that the Shrykull has finally returned to rid them of the Grilken, and that you are its loyal servants.”

Rettick looked out uneasily, his anxiety returning. “What should I say?”

“Just introduce yourself, really, and tell them you want several of their number to accompany you on your quest. Oh, and at the end, resent the Shrykull to them.”

“Present it? How?”

“That’s up to your Vykker friend. Now hurry up, they’re getting impatient.” He stepped to the side, giving Rettick centre stage.

Rettick swallowed. The sense of anticipation in the air above the mass of villagers was palpable. Clearing his throat, Rettick opened his mouth. “Friends…”

Cheers arose from the crowd at his first words, drowning out everything he said after that point, but the villagers didn’t care. Their god had returned to rid them of a hated enemy, and its Acolyte was speaking to them. To Them. The sense of anticipation had been replaced by an immense collective rejoicing. Their arms waved in the dappled light that emerged from between the leaves above their heads. In places, a single shaft of light shone down on a certain mudokon or group of mudokons, and Rettick could see the expressions of sheer joy on their faces. Rettick realised that they’d been waiting for this moment for centuries, and felt a rush of pride that he was the focus of their rejoicing. This pride was short-lived, however, as he felt a pang of guilt at what they were doing to these people. These people believed that their salvation was at hand, when in reality Rettick was just an ordinary slig, and he and Volt and Mildar were most likely about to die, and the forest would be destroyed, these villagers along with it.

The guilt became Determination. We can’t let them down, he thought, We are going to end their troubles, and the Deforestation will end. It has to… Glancing at Mebek, he mouthed ‘Quiet them down!’ Mebek chirped out above the noise, silencing the cheers. Swallowing, Rettick opened his mouth once more. “And now, we bring to you your Saviour: The Shrykull!” Not knowing which way to turn to present it, he went down on his knees, as the crowd cheered, hoping to gods Mildar had got the Homing Beacon working…

[Sl'askia]

ooo i hope Mildar does have it working...or else Rettick is going to be looking really stupid...

anywho...glad to see more keep it coming!

[Danny]

here's another one, fresh from the fingers...

CHAPTER 53

“So, gentlemen, what brings you here?”

The slig was the first to speak. “We’ve recaptured the escaped crossbreed. It stumbled into one of our traps. It didn’t even try to fight us, it just tried to keep walking in the direction it was going. We wondered if there was a reward for its capture?”

Snikkit frowned at him. “I thought I gave orders that you weren’t to go after the creature!”

The Director smiled at Dran’s discomfort. “Oh please, there’s no need to fight amongst ourselves. After all, the creature has been recaptured, and there was no harm done. Logging is back on schedule, and I don’t believe we have any further problems, do we?”

Snikkit’s frown deepened. “What about this female slig you have? Have you destroyed it yet?”

For the first time, The Director seemed ill at ease. “Not quite.”

“Well, when were you planning on doing it? Might I remind you that if Central Office sends an Inspector here, this operation will be closed down, and you will lose out on this profitable opportunity for study.”

Supervisor Dran’s Mobile Fone bleeped. “Excuse me,” he said, as he strolled into the corner to take the call.

The Director smiled to cover his unease. “We will have her destroyed as soon as she is recaptured…”

Snikkit stood up in panic. “You mean she’s escaped? How?”

“You can trust that the person responsible has been disciplined. Terminally, I expect, depending on the imagination of his Successor…”

“That’s unimportant, do you know where-”

“A Crawler?” Dran’s voice interrupted Snikkit’s, and the other two stopped arguing to listen. “How Far? What size was it? The Factory? What sort of defences do they have back there? Well, did you see how well the Mudokons were armed? Oh well, never mind, well done. Yes, I’m with Snikkit and the Director now, we’ll think about how to deal with them now. Thank you for the information. Goodbye.” With anxiety in his eyes, Dran closed his Fone and turned back to the others. “We have a problem…”

[Sl'askia]

ut oh...Looks like Rettick is going to look foolish...oh dear...

Malice: want me to put him out of his misery?

NO! I am NOT going to like you start invading other fics! Now get out!

Malice: fine then *snorts and leaves*

Oy...anywho...keep it up Rett

[Teal]

*reads and re-reads trying to think of constructive criticisms*

(Drag, you may want to get the Fire Extinguisher ready...)

*brain melts*

D'oh!

Aura: *stalks Malice*

*waits for impending fight-noises*

[Danny]

hurray! i have reached the 3-PAGE mark! unfortunately, i am less jubilant than i should be, since my computer is currently acting like a git and not letting me online for more than a few seconds before it crashes, but if you're reading this it has obviously finally worked...

CHAPTER 54

“So what do we do?”

Int sighed. “We wait, I guess.”

Crim looked down. “Do you really think they’ll be able to win this?”

Int fell silent. The two of them were sat in the main room of Int’s hut, having just put the children to bed. Outside, the night was dark. “I hope so,” he said at last, quietly.

Crim was insistent. “But do you think they will?”

Int sighed. “I honestly don’t know. You probably know better than me; you’ve been in that factory. So what do you think their chances are?”

Crim shivered. “I don’t know either. There’s miles and miles of that logging operation, and I don’t know how many people they’ll have to fight there.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the flames dance in Int’s fireplace. It was Int who finally broke the silence once more.

“Do you think the sligs will join them against the factory?”

Crim didn’t reply for a while, seemingly absorbed in observation of the flames. When he did speak, his voice was very quiet, and he seemed very small. “I’m not sure. Some of them will, but some of them won’t. I just don’t know how many there will be on each side.”

Int decided not to press the issue, and the two of them unconsciously moved closer to the fire. They sat together for a long while, not speaking, each thinking their own thoughts.

“Int?” Int looked up at the voice coming from the stairs. Dis, the oldest of the children, was stood framed in the doorway. “Ela says she saw something in the sky outside. I couldn’t see it, but Art said Ela was making it up and she started to cry, so could you come and look, please? Ela’s pretty scared, I think she must have had a bad dream, unless there really is something there…”

Sighing, Int stood up to follow Dis back upstairs. Crim’s voice rose from the chair he was sat in. “Hey, don’t forget me!” Picking Crim up, Int followed Dis up to the bedroom. Ela was sat on the side of her bed, crying, while Art tried clumsily to comfort her. Int set Crim down on the bed and crouched before Ela.

“Okay, Ela, what was it you saw?”

Ela sniffed. “I did see it! It was in the sky!”

“I believe you, Ela, but what was it you saw?”

“I… I don’t know, it was flashing, and not really moving much.”

Art snorted. “Just a star!”

Ela began to wail, and feebly hit Art on the arm. “It wasn’t! There was something there! I promise!”

Crim’s voice came from the window. “I think she’s right.” Turning, Int saw Dis at the window, Crim in her arms. “Look!”

Int and Art followed Crim’s finger. After concentrating for a few seconds, Int saw a small dark shape apparently hovering above the horizon. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that it had a light at each side, one red, one green. He looked down at the slig, whom he knew had better eyes than most mudokons. “Do you see what I think I see?”

“I see a Flyer. And it’s heading towards us.”

Int nodded, and bit his lip. “We’d better raise the alarm…”

[ October 11, 2001: Message edited by: Rettick ]

[Teal]

Better eyesight? Interesting concept. Where did the bad eyesight idea come from, anyway? I remember reading it somewhere and thinking 'yes, that makes sense' and can't remember why. *shrugs* Maybe it's because Abe can sneak behind them in the shadows... but then, the mask could be hindering sight...

*shrugs* Anyway. When we getting the next chapter, hmmm?

[SlogMaster]

sligs don't seem to be a very advanced species, they most likely depend on the advanced technology from the gluks and the vykers, their eye sight is probally poor in the first place. apparently, they need and air compressor in thier mask; so my theory's that the mask improves their vision if anything rather than degrading it. if there are any impairments, it's most likly that they can't see on their sides too well because the mask could un-intentionally work as blinders on a horse. but as for "natural" sligs such as Aura, their eyesight is probally almost as good if not the same as a mudokons, even though their still a slig, the adaptation could have branched off into somewhat of a stronger and more efficient sub-species since they never relied on mask or pants.
thanks for reading this udderly boring theory, & Teal, where are you from? you only seem to be on at early morning

[Danny]

where did you get the idea that they're not a very advanced species? everyone seems to think that, but there is nothing anywhere to back it up. and the mask's purpose is to hide their faces, because the Glukkons think that sligs are ugly [but then, they're one to talk], not to improve vision. however, if it does act as blinkers, i think that would be more likely to be intentional that unintentional... oh, and another small point of information, the industrial sligs branched off from the natives, not the other way round, so there isn't really any reason why their eyesight would have degraded since their wild days, it's not like they don't need to see any more...

new chapter next time i am online on my home computer, i have 2 more written...

[Teal]

Early morning for you, SM, is mid-afternoon for me - I'm British. And I know I've posted this before, but this might be of interest to you:the Slig
We roughed out the idea in the old forums, and I wrote it up. Okay, so I made some up and it's not finished, but I got positive vibes about it from some of the other mad-peeps I gas just about all day on Saturdays with in M$ IM. *shrugs*
Hm... I wonder why people think the species isn't very advanced? They were advanced enough to survive and become intelligent... Maybe it's because they do pretty much what the Glukks say when they say it, no questions asked, but then if they're scared they'll "disappear" (in Dan's words... ) they probably wouldn't dar be disobedient...
*shrugs* I think the Industrials and the "Natives" are one and the same, as well - a bit like the different human civilisations, I guess. After all, we're all the same species, but some of us live in cities and some in the middle of the Amazonian Rainforest... Okay, now I'm rambling and taking over Dan's topic again. *goes to fetch the frying pan and hands it over* I'll shut up now.

*looks forward to appearance of next chapter*

[ October 11, 2001: Message edited by: Teal ]

[Danny]

another chapter here, my beautiful people! this one is about Grozit Jr, whom is the favourite character of a couple of people i've spoken to... i had been planning this fic ahead, but then i realised i hadn't left a place for the Grozits, so i wrote this, to open up the possibilities. most of what will happen will have been planned ahead, but anything involving these two will be totally improvised...

oh yeah, i noticed that, by accident, i referred to Int as Jal during the last few paragraphs of the last chapter... i'm quite miffed off that no-one spotted that...

CHAPTER 55

“Unk…” Grozit Senior sat up. “What… Where… Oh, shit, I’m in a cell, aren’t I?”

Groz nodded. “Yup.”

Grozit sagged back down again. “Oh, ****…” He lifted his handfeet to cover his face, and lay there for a while, unmoving except for the rhythmic up-and-down movement of his chest. Then he sat up, and rested his head in his hands, dejectedly. “I should never have let Snikkit take control.”

Groz rolled his eyes, and lay down. “Have you only just realised?”

“That idiot isn’t as clever as he thinks he is, you know!” Grozit stood up. “He only convinced… I mean, he only took control because I don’t have a good head for figures, but that isn’t important! I still ran the ****ing factory!”

“Yeah, of course you did, dad…”

“Not just the factory, but the whole ****ing operation, I mean, I had Supervisor Dran and the Director to look after their own sections, but I was overseeing the whole thing! Snikkit may have experience in looking after the factory, but I’d like to see how he manages MY job!” Grozit began pacing the cell. “I bet he’s screwing the whole thing up already…” Pausing, he lifted the food bowl from the floor. “Look at this! Soup!” Angrily, he threw the bowl to the ground, splashing the soup across the floor of the cell, and making Groz rise from his bunk in concern. “Who does he think he is? Who does he think I am? Soup? What kind of food is that for someone whose little toe probably has more business experience than Snikkit will ever have?” His anger spent, Grozit sat back down on his bunk. After a pause, Groz followed suit, looking at his father with concern in his eyes.

“Look, dad, you couldn’t have helped it, he had those drones programmed to obey him, what could you have done?”

Grozit didn’t answer; his gaze was directed to the floor. After a brief pause, Groz realised that his father was looking at a specific point. Following his gaze, Groz found himself looking at the fallen soup bowl, now empty, lying upside down on the carpet.

“Junior?”

“Dad?”

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know what you mean, dad…”

“Like **** you don’t know!” Grozit stood, and walked towards the bowl. “How the **** did that soup bowl I threw end up outside the forcefield?”

“Look, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d – Don’t do that!”

Grozit withdrew his handfoot, since a small laser blast from the drone melted the bowl the moment his hand left the forcefield.

“It’ll zap anything that goes outside where the forcefield should be!”

Grozit stared at the Drone, suspiciously. “But the forcefield isn’t there any more, right?”

Groz nodded. “Yeah, but that won’t be much use to us right now.”

Grozit crouched for a moment, thinking, then he reached over for the tray that had held the bowl of soup. Before Groz realised what he had planned, Grozit had thrown it out of the cell, in the opposite direction to the door. The Drone chased it, its laser-sight dancing over the polished wooden surface.

“What are you-”

Before Groz could get any further, Grozit was already at the doorway and accelerating down the corridor. Making a split-second decision, Groz followed his father through the door, just as the Drone vaporised the tray and turned back to watch the cell…

[Danny]

I can't put it off any longer... So I've written some more...

CHAPTER 56

The Mess Hall on the Crawler wasn’t designed to accommodate this many people, but there were important decisions to be made here.

“I think the Logging Operation is a greater threat.”

Jal frowned. “I agree, but the factory would an easier target first. We can close the factory, then move on to the Logging Operation before they can mobilise their troops properly.”

The tall purple warrior opposite him banged his fist on the table. “There’s no honour in attacking the weaker enemies first!”

Jal sighed. “No, Incal, there is no honour. But there is victory, and I think we need to get our priorities right here.”

Incal snorted, but said nothing more. After a pause, Bil sat forward. “Would it not be better to take out the biggest threat first? Then we’d have less to worry about…”

“No,” Jal shook his head, “In the factory there are nearly a thousand workers and guards, mostly sligs. I’m confident that at least seven hundred of them will join us, plus of course, this being a Weapons Factory, there will be lots of weapons we can take…”

Incal sneered at Jal. “We have weapons…”

“Ok then, Better Weapons.”

Bil put out a hand to restrain Incal. “If we’re talking about tactical advantage, there will be more workers down nearer the forest, with the sawmills and other processing plants, not to mention the logging itself, won’t there?”

Jal frowned, thinking. “Greeb estimated that there would be about three thousand at the logging site, maybe more, but I think they will tend to be more loyal to their employers than those at the factory. After all, the Glukks wouldn’t choose the lazy or rebellious workers to work on something that secret, would they?”

“How many do you think would defect to us from there?”

Jal shook his head again. “I wouldn’t count on half of them. I wouldn’t even place bets on getting a thousand. But the factory has practically no defences except for the guards, and nearly all of them will be sympathetic to us. It would barely be a fight, let alone a battle, and then we’d number nearly half again what we do now, not to mention being better armed.”

Incal began to nod, reluctantly. “Okay, let’s do it your way.” He rose from his chair. “But if your slig friends betray us, I will personally kill you, along with the rest of them…” Without waiting for Jal’s response, Incal strode from the room, leaving the masses of mudokons in the Mess Hall with mixed emotions…

[Teal]

Why did I miss this sitting here...? Maybe *cough* certain people *cough* spammed it offscreen and I didn't look down the page far enough...

Um... *scratches head* Yes. I can't think of anything to critique, so I'll just post here so you can see I read it. Good enough? If it's not, well... Umm... I'll just have to beat you.

[Danny]

this chapter was f*cking difficult to write, so you'd better appreciate it...

CHAPTER 57

“What’s the matter?”

Mildar was now shaking the device in his hands in desperation. “It doesn’t seem to be working! I can’t get a signal…”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped at Volt, “Just shut up and let me…” He paused, his face brightening. “Of course…”

“What? You got an idea?”

“Why didn’t I think of this before, it’s so obvious…”

“Tell me your plan!” Volt tugged on Midar’s ankle, to no avail.

“Just shut up and close your eyes…”

Outside, the crowd were getting restless. The murmuring of before had begun again, and risen above and beyond its previous volume, as Rettick stood before Mebek’s hut, praying that the creature would appear through the surrounding trees at any moment. He saw Mebek trying to ask a question over the noise of the crowd, but was unable to hear him, and so just shrugged, and turned to the crowd, clearing his throat.

Behind him, Mebek’s house exploded, the roof bursting upwards, showering Rett with debris as he fell to the floor. Rolling, he saw a huge figure, nearly three times his own height, standing waist-deep in the remains of Mebek’s hut. It had four scrablike legs, and two arms which ended in palps similar to those of a paramite. Its skin was scrab-red, and in its scrablike mouth, there gleamed a sharp set of teeth.

It was, without a doubt, the scariest thing that Rettick had ever seen…

Mebek regained his voice before Rett. In fact, he regained his voice before Rett had even managed to stand up. “The Shrukull!”

How the **** did that get into that hut? he thought to himself, Unless… Mildar. Of course, it’s Mildar… He saw Volt dragging himself out of the shattered hut, and realised that he was still lying on the ground. Pulling himself up, he staggered over to Volt, and lifted him up to head height.

Only then did they realise that their ears were being assaulted by a roaring. Turning around, Rett widened his eyes at the sight laid out before him.

The crowd were simply cheering. Except it was cheering unlike anything he’d ever seen, not even on the TV. In the patches of light, he could see them leaping into the air, dancing around, and expressing their joy in every way imaginable. Even when a couple of them fell over the barrier that ran around the platform they were standing on, it did practically nothing to suppress their excitement… Only awe kept them from climbing up onto the platform on which Rett, Mebek, Volt, and ‘The Shrukull’ were standing…