Page 4 of Warrior's Purpose

Fire thumped them on the back as they boarded the cruiser and headed for controls.

“You got this?” Vintor strapped in beside him.

“What’s this thing do again?”

“Torment,” Vintor barked when Ashtoret whipped the agile cruiser out of the loading bay.

He laughed at his friend, who was now wearing an incredulous smirk. While the others practiced setting up the cloaking array, he had been learning the ins and outs of the Osivoire cruiser. The vessel handled so smoothly, he was eager to take it through its paces, sadly this wasn’t the time. He set the coordinates and aimed the cruiser for the blue planet. The peninsula they were heading toward showed up onscreen, and he zoomed in further to assess the environment.

“I guess it’s a good thing it’s night out,” Vintor commented.

“I suppose, but look at how much artificial light they have blanketing everything.” That was the first difference he noticed between their otherwise similar worlds. There were strings of light connecting all the inhabited cities, like the woven strands of a succo nest. And the sprawling city they were heading toward extended for hectares along the coastline. “I don’t see how the humans can sleep at night.”

“The way Riley keeps Cyprian up, I don’t think they do sleep,” Vintor snorted, slapping his tail against the floor.

He shook his head, casting Vintor a sideways grin, then turned his attention back to the controls. He scanned the area and groaned when he located their best option for landing.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing,” he replied petulantly.

“Not looking forward to a water landing?” Vintor chuckled.

“It’s not the landing, it’s the trudging through foreign waters on a hostile planet.” But it couldn’t be helped. It was the most secure location in the heavily populated area. Skittish humans!

“True.” Vintor nodded and they both grew serious, mentally preparing themselves for the task at hand.

The small cruiser swiftly pierced the river’s surface and came to a halt on the murky bottom. He secured the controls, unstrapped his harness, and shrugged on his pack.

“Well, here we go.” Vintor sealed the loading bay hatch, so the water didn’t invade the rest of the cruiser, then opened the exit portal.

Ashtoret took a deep breath and dove headlong into the rush of water that came pouring into the bay. He fought past the slimy growth that entangled his feet and kicked till he broke the surface. Despite all the artificial light on shore, it was still too dark to see Vintor. He tread water in circles, desperately searching for his fellow warrior. Finally, he caught sight of Vintor silhouetted against the distant shore and breathed a sigh of relief. Ashtoret paddled toward his friend then burst into laughter.

“Not a word,” Vintor grumbled as he tugged the slimy, stringy plants off his head, untangling them from his warrior’s braids.

“I was just going to report that we need to head that way.” He tried to keep a straight face.

“Uh huh,” Vintor spat a bit of the foreign plant life out of his mouth, and they started swimming toward the shore.

The closer they got to land, the thicker the growth became, making it impossible to swim. With each step the muddy bottom attempted swallow up their boots.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Vintor said as they waded neck deep in water.

“I agree. I feel eyes on me,” Ashtoret replied as he pushed reedy grass out of his face.

“You are certain the nearby military stronghold didn’t spot us entering their atmosphere?” Vintor asked.

“I can’t make any promises. I’m still learning my way around Osivoire technology.”

Vintor grunted and continued wading through the muck, toward the location programmed into his handheld. Ashtoret kept watch for any indication they’d been discovered. As he panned the dim bank several yards away, he spotted a pair of glowing, yellow eyes. The wet hair on the back of his neck stood up.

I knew it.

“There,” Ashtoret whispered as he paused his watery trek.

Swift movement followed by a splash sounded, and Ashtoret braced himself. He snarled in anger, when a large set of jaws clamped on his arm. He was aggravated with himself more than anything, since he’d known the attack was coming. He resisted the tug on his forearm, instead yanking the assailant out of the water. His first instinct from years of training was to pull one of the blades strapped to his chest, but he didn’t want to fatally injure any of the planet’s inhabitants if he didn’t have to.

“Son of a metcor,” Vintor cursed low. “That thing is ugly. And it looks like it has a nasty bite.”

---