First Draft - Sgt Simmons the Sniper - Last Updated: 09/23/2016

Sgt. Simmons through his sniper rifle over his back and shoulder and climbed to the top of the ridge.   As he reached the top of the ridge before him opened a vast Vista, the terror of which shocked him.

Moving in at a steady speed the hordes of Rocorian troops were closing on their position.  The fast-moving fighters were already coming into view. They were followed by a line of assault transports and behind them came the command cadre.

"Ma'am" Sgt. Simmons' strong tenor voice came over the COM channel.

"Yes Sgt." Elena’s smooth and soft voice replied.

"The link to the global net indicates that we have a large Rocorian assault force with four heavy transports moving in from the east. ETA in less than 30 minutes. With the advanced column of fighters and shock troops in little more than 15 minutes out.  We are in good position but we cannot outlast the onslaught of their numbers. If the advanced team does not reach us in 45 minutes I'm afraid we will be overrun.” Sgt. Simmons strong voice hesitated at the end.

"Understood Sgt. we are making preparations for immediate evacuation through the Portal if required once we have our people out.”, Elena replied, "the Calvary is on its way.  I've told they will be here in 20 minutes, so it will be close Sgt.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” came Simmons’

Simmons then asked, "Orders?"

“Do your best to take out the leader of the initial assault pack, perhaps his pack will revert to a disorganized mass that can be used to our advantage,”  Elena replied in return with a mounting sound of control in her tone in her voice.  Sgt. Simmons was relieved to recognize the command trait and crawled the last few feet into a concealed position that would allow him to fire upon the most probable three landing zones that the Rocorian Shock Lance would follow.

"Private Mendez," Sgt Simmons called over the Squad net.

"Yeah Sarhento," came the reply.

"Dozer, I need you to grab the Vipers that survived the crash and give those overgrown mange covered mutts my displeasure at being dropped unceremoniously her on this monastery ridge.

Private Mendez replied, "Se Sarhento!"

Standing on the higher ground his command circuit began to update with the information aquired by the other Azmathian units in the area.   Looking through his armors systems Simmons would a have shook his head in concern and frustration about the coming engagement, but his natural body's tick could not be completed inside the armor.  He could however begin to make out the blood red markings of the craft coming at them.

"Mendez we definately have a blood pack coming after us," Simmons said.

"They may have ambushed us but we are going to burn and bury them, Sarenhto!" Mendez replied.

"If you take all of those rabid dogs down Mendez, I will ask the old man's lady to give you the rest of the day off to watch the Solar Dragons as the soar past rasing the sun," Simmons stated.

"Now THAT is worth seeing, Sarhento!" Mendez exclaimed.

"They are rather beautiful aren't they," Simmons said.

"No Sarhento!" Mendez replied, "I was referring to you asking the Lady for me to have the rest of the day off.  Lady Ta'Leni is not exactly the kick back and relax type."

"Dozer, if you take these four birds out," an overly calm voice spoke interrupting the conversation, "and  if you buy us the time we need to dig, my soon to be chastised husband out of this mess, I will personally demonstrate to both you and that man, how to properly kick back and watch as those playful creatures dance past!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Private Mendez said in a standard and practiced crispness that only terran marines mastered.

"Si Sarhento Simmons," Elaina said in mock solemnity, "I am not as alien as you poor unwashed 'Cretans' might think."

The silence that followed had Simmon's and his Squad quite literally looking anywhere, but at their Princess and future Queen who stood mere meters away.  Simmons knew everyone was thinking about the commander trapped or dead and this coming battle for their lives.

Simmons shifted to the command frequency and said, "That is a fine job Ma'am of calming their jitters."

Then he shifted back to the squad level and said jokingly, "I'm just a good old Texas boy myself Ma'am."

Then Simmons added in a deadpan Texan drawl."I don't know any of them there 'Cretans' myself, but expect that them there baddies that be approaching us are the very thing those dead Greek guys was callin' 'Cretans' all those long years ago!"

"Lets send these 'Cretans' dogs back to the hole they crawled out of!" she said.

"Yes, Ma'am!" Simmons returned in solemnity.

"Urrah!" chorused across the net as he shifted to a vantage point with heavier cover from below.

Simmons then spoke into the command channel, "Ma'am you know that we'd follow the Commander through hell?"

"I have observed that detail, Sergeant," she said in her smooth flawless tones of impeccable English.

"Well Ma'am, if anything ever happened; Not that anything has or will mind you," he said.

Then mentally cursed himself for fumbling the words that way.

Simmons quickly added, "We would as we say have your back and follow you to the end of this forsaken war."

"Thank you Sergeant!  I appreciate and acknowledge the honor of that loyalty bond that exist among our peoples," Elaina said.

"The squad is scared for the Commander, Ma'am," Simmons said, "Each one of them is thinking right now about how this ain't what they were expecting and how far away from Kansas they are."

Simmons knew this detail was exactly what was going through the minds of the Americans of the Terran remnants that had followed Commander Zack Carver were thinking.   They had followed the Commander into the black abyss when he fled Sol with a vague hope for allies and 12 battered ships and people with conflicting desires but one common enemy.  He hear them talking when he listened before stepping into a conversation circuit to give orders.

[[This section needs to be turned into either a reflection followed a conversation with another soldier to further set up the tentions between the Azmathian and the Rocorians] - [ The trauma that the terran refugees faced as Sol fell to the Rocorian and Ma'Rni fleet, at odds with their desires to stand and fight for their beloved constitutional republic and their world.   In spite of their any safe port in a storm mentality at the time their love of duty and honor still burned bright even though they had no firm hope that their North American Union or their various home states in the enlarged and more conservative nation even remained given the ferocity they had observed when all but the few that fled their vastly superior enemy while the less capable elements of the fleet covered their escape with the ragtag elements of in system transports as they maneuvered towards the newly discovered and only marginally active System Defense Platform called "The Siren of Sol" that the Carver Corporation had explored and partially reactivated.  The destruction that fell upon both sides was near crippling on the one side and fatal on the side of the feral elements led by Ta'mak'n and the Alpha Secundus as his title was translated by the SDP's caretaker's AI.

Now they were all Azmathians the distinction of political systems having little functional difference for the soldiers of the CEF and locked into this battle for survival and vengeance for the world these feral dogs and their masters had nearly destroyed.   Now the surviving pack brothers of those creatures were here and seeking to destroy their sworn enemies of antiquity, the Terrans and their spawn the Azmathians.

This was not a battle Sargeant Simmon's had asked for and he wasn't about to roll over and play dead!  This murderous lot had crossed into the land of no possible forgiveness when they had destroyed the the ship that his older brother had captained.  In Simmon's mind there is only one good Rocorian and that is a dead one! ]]

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General - This is the Way this Blog Works...

I subscribe to the publish what you write camp at this point, some day this may change.   In the meantime, here is how this blog is going to work.   I will write every day and post new content to a first draft post.  I will change the publish date as I do, beyond that the sole purpose of this blog is for my growth and benefit.   I am teaching myself to become an author and this is my way of keeping myself accountable.

Once I have completed the first draft for the project, you will likely see a second draft emerge in a similar fashion.  My wife tells me this is the reason I have never finished a story that I have begun; I have a penchant to polish sections until they shine.   This blog is all about me learning to write on a consistent and predictable fashion so that the hundreds of characters that are vying for space in my head can be banished to print!

I will gladly accept input from any of my readers.  I however draw the line of input at rudeness.  If you have something to say and would like to share simply keep it civil.  Rudeness is anything that is intended to be insulting, crude or inappropriate in mixed civilized society.

If you want to tell me that section is a rambling pile of jargon filled confusion, go right ahead.

If you want to say dude use spell check, go right ahead.

If you want to say that character is so flat and lifeless that even a zombified nat couldn't find flesh or brains enough to subsist, go right ahead.

If you want to say that dude I can't get that last 5 minutes I spent reading that story-less first draft, go right ahead.

If you want to argue that this character or that would not believe something I have written based upon your own experience in life, by all means, tell me how my overly sheltered life has missed an obvious life lesson.  I really would love to hear your point of view.  I enjoy conversations with people who are from different backgrounds.   Understand that I am not going to be converted to your way of thinking, religion, political or social club, as I am an old set in my ways kind of guy.  I am not going to change who I am, just ask my awesome and overly angelic wife of over 18 years!  She will save you time and effort in that regard.   That said, the character you are discussing might just have an epiphany and mirror many of your world views or ideas, because I do recognize and often celebrate the differences that make each human being unique and utterly fascinating.

HOWEVER, if you want to castigate my character, use foul language to express your inability to actually construct real sentences my children and my wife will read, or you feel it is appropriate to be a racist, bigot or any other hate-filled -ist or -ot your post will vanish into oblivion before it is even read.   I have no use for that seriously zombie like lack of intelligence that God gave all who bother to look beyond their own nose.

If you can handle those conditions please send me a reply on any post!  Welcome to the truly massive world that is Azmathia and its countless worlds within worlds.

General - An Old Webpage Teaser Page from 10 Years Ago...

This is a post that should be filed under wow was I ever wrong, when I used the word "soon"...   

Tonight I was combing through my mounds of "All things Azmathia" and came across an a link to an old web page that I had published nearly 10 years ago.   As mentioned in an earlier post Azmathia is a Sci-Fi Fantasy Saga that has lived in my mind for nearly 30 years in various forms.   The world has grown in scope, since my 11 year old imagination began combining all of my favorite Scifi, Fantasy, Political Observations, and love of cool SF machinery and armor.   Early attempts to create a written world have struggled as I was learning the habit of writing on a daily basis.   In the early years I thought I would be able to learn 3D animation and tell the story in that venue, but in spite of my 3D CAD skills I never found that media completely compelling, and it never developed beyond my acquaintances who had more skills in their discarded finger nails from last century than I could muster in my entire life.   (One example is Ekrat, his early Star Wars models were out of this world!!!  If your in the market for 3D imagery, you should check the gallery over at Colorzync.com )

That make me realize that I would need to find other venues to develop the story and ideas.  There is even a board game version that I built with the intent to play with my nephews.   One of these days I will pull it out and takes some pictures of the progress that, that aborted project.   Then life and my six kids, over ran my time.   I would occasionally sketch or find an story that demanded that it be written, and even recorded audio descriptions of the world and characters, as I was driving from pizza delivery to pizza delivery.  

What follows is the page from a long forgotten webpage that is nearly 10 years old to the day.   I find it interesting that while the story has continued to develop and grow the overall structure is still quite similar to the information from the page.

This is a purely Sci-Fi story that will focus on the origins of the Tlasi built Planetary Research Station (PRS) - PRS-04975 "Azmathia''. (Note: It is now called the 'Azmathian Dawn'). It is at the center of the conflict between four warring factions.  
This is the story of Freedom and the unquenchable flame that burns with in the souls of men.  I will be giving you much more in the coming months.  There is a lot of things that make this story worth telling.  

Until then here are a few concept sketches to fire the synaptic pathways... 

 If you wish to see more you can visit my discussion board and comment as you see fit...  http://com3.runboard.com/bsfada9.f6 (Sadly this board before I really got it off the digital drawing board.) 

Azmathian Republic
Just because you are the "rightful owners" of a place, doesn't give you the ability to enjoy it peacefully. 

A Terran and Azmathian Stealth Bubble Generator.
Think AWACS meets Harry Potters Invisiblity Cloak.

Rocorian Directorate
All things are to be conquered and ruled! 

This is a Rocorian Carrier Launched Space Superiority Figher called "Stinger".
The laser fire is from a HAMPSTER's in flight rear turret.

Shamar Empire
An ageless caste system divides them...
Pride and greed unite them...
Both are rotting them from the inside!

Shamari Commoner

A SPECIAL THANKS to a good friend, Brandon Koller, he has given the Shamari sharp looking face to begin the fleshing out of this ancient and crumbling cast ridden system.   A system that values only the Elites and is crumbling from within.  

Ma' Rni Society
That which can be manipulate should be....
Those who stands in opposition are killed...
That which others work for is worth stealing or destroying...

First Draft - Stairs in the Dark - Last Updated: 09/13/2016

The maw that opened in the night gave Kan reason to pause and consider his next step one more time.  The voices in his head urged him to retreat.  The pressure of the discordant choir raging at him only galvanized his resolve.  Pain sprang into his mind like a screaming trumpet next to his ears he flinched away.

“It’s the only way!” he yelled at the opening.

“Turn back!” a voice inserted itself like a blade and then twisted into an agony of intensity that caused him to stubble to his knees.

“You will die,” the voice promised.

Fear clawed at his heart as he forced himself to his feet an stepped into the dark mouth of death that would consume his body and possibly destroy his sanity before he could complete his purpose. 

“I will not turn back,” he yelled into the darkness as he reached the top of the stairs that lead into a vast cavern below.

Kan’s pulse hammered as if it were a creature seeking to tear itself from his veins.  Each step into the darkness was met with the taunts and promises of the voices that threatened to drive him mad with echos of voice and acrimonious sound that only he could hear as it rippled across his mind in waves that assaulted his sanity.

The light that illuminated the stairs as he descended into the catacomb levels below was on something that gave incomplete details to the wet and pervasive moss that threatened to steal his footing with each step into the void.  It emanate from the moss itself, splashing the black with hues so faint that it might as well be drops of water cast onto the baking sands of the Zhe-Hu Desert at mid-day for all the good it did to bathe the wide expanse of blackness.  All it revealed was fliting movements at the edge of perception that Kan sensed at a primal level were not mere ghosts of his imagination acting on a canvas of shadowy velvet; he was being watched and followed by the Wraiths of Silence. 

“You are brave!” an amused voice chuckled amid the violent torrent of mental torment that gnawed at his inner stability. 

“I DO NOT FEAR YOU,” Kan yelled at the voice.

“You should,” the now cold voice said,

“I will end this life of yours,” it promised with no trace of humor or sanity.

“With each step forward your remaining human heartbeats grow shorter,” the now familiar if menacing voice warned.

Kan could feel the truth of the warning.

“I do not fear to cross the Vail of Silence!” he replied.

The barely contained terror that screamed in his head for him to run sloshed through him triggering more adrenaline to flow into his flooded system threatening his tenuous fight for control of his mind.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he screamed as he stumbled and fell painfully down the last few stairs landing with a meat crash that slammed the right side of his body into the cold slimed rock. 

“NEVER,” the voice echoed in his mind like the racked laughter of a psychopath.  

Kan steeled his resolve and pushed himself to his knees before standing. 

“I will do this,” Kan said with coldness seeking to calm the roiling fear and master the pain that still burned in his shoulder and threatened to overwhelm his tentative balance as he took his next step forward to the glimpsed edge of the landing.

“Why are you doing this,” Kan called as he stepped onto the first stair.

“This is was the only way,” the voice answered in with the barest trickle of sympathy that vanished as if it were a particle colliding with another particle.  The resulting explosion of mental imagery shattered Kan’s tenuous control and his knees buckled sending him into down the entire flight of stairs to land in an insensate heap at the bottom.

The world ceased for a moment as the shards of pain overcame his body.  Those same shattered spikes of pain viciously thrust him back into consciousness. 

“Give up,” the voice said with disdain as the cacoughany of other voices forced their perspectives to cause his head to swim with agony.

Kan yet again forced himself to knees once more only to have his right knee scream as if it were being forced into a closing vice and he cried out in momentary uncontrolled pain.  The effort of standing and then working his way down the next fifty flights of stairs nearly killed him.  The silent shadows that lurked to all sides took on demonic proportions as they taunted his mind with visions of his pending death.

Kan stepped into the dim carved hall at the end of the battle between the fiendish voices, the slimy steps at odds with the previously solid unforgiving landings that had all vied for the honor of killing him. 

“I’m still alive, Master” he said, as his breathe coming in aching spurts.

“I can see that,” said the approving voice

A massive shadow disconnected itself from the ceiling thirty feet above and dropped to the floor with a grace that seemed impossible for a creature of such size of a ground car. 

Kan froze as the realize that the creature standing before him was the source of all the pain.

"Well done Kan," the voice stated as the confusion in his mind vanished into a pool of approval and flavored by hope Kan had never felt this from his unseen master in the entirety of his last decade of training.

“You have done well Kan!” he said again wordlessly in Kan’s mind.

Kan laughed at the realization of his triumph.

"Your lack of shock and awe at my unveiling confirms yet one more element of your character that the vision that the Council of the Voiceless has observed for you has merit," the hulking shadow stated as it stood to its full height and nearly blocked the passage forward.

"Did they tell you more that this vague path we have been walking these past cycles?" Kan asked.

"They never tell more than they must and sometimes the choose to remain silent and simply send a master like me without more than a generally vague and fleshless morsel to provide sustenance," the shadow stated.

"Then I guess it is lucky we know as much as we do, or you might have eaten me when we first met.", Kan said.

The cavern filled with a base rumble, "You would not taste good!"

"You are laughing at my ignorance you old lizard," Kan said in mock hurt.

The shadow replied in tones of seriousness, "We do not eat acolytes, it would be bad form to eat one of our own."

"Not to mention a bad reward for the courage it took to enter the swamps and seek the Council with this vision." Kan said.

Now that we are at the entrance to the Cavern of  Worlds and you have passed through the outer vail of Silence without the transformation, where do we go now my acolyte of visions?" the hulk asked.

"I have seen beyond the Vail of Silence and know that the change will take me yet, but not for a while yet for it is the will of the Voiceless One for me.", Kan said.

"It is rare that 'The One' speaks to any beyond the vail."  the creature said as it turned to look at the door to the Cavern of Worlds.

"I wish he had not chosen me to be honest." Kan said.

The massive bi-ped crouched low to look Kan in the eyes.

"You are wise enough to know this is not a blessing that "The One" has bestowed." the lizard-like being mused.

"My name is Tazul, Master of the Mind, Keeper of the Key, Protector of the Way and I am to be your teacher and guardian," the massive creature said.

World Building - An image of Amuk-Yan: Ma'Rni Prision

This is an image of the prison asteroid where Zack is being held.  It is called Amak-Yan, which loosely translates to The Womb of Shadows.  It is one of a half dozen asteroid that the Ma'Rni, which are a humanoid cyborg mob-like society, use as part of their secret society's base of operations.  The Ma'Rni routinely capture, kidnap and attempts to reprogram influential individuals through torture and augmentation to gain their knowlege, secrets and compliance.  It is located in the asteroid belt of the Binary Azmathian System.

This images was created by:

 Brandon Koller in January of 2006.

First Draft - Escaping From the Ma'Rni Prision Asteroid

Zack began to regain consciousness trussed between two still fuzzy figures and being drug down a dimly light corridor.  He noticed the smells of harsh chemicals mingled with filth and refuge.  The deckplates were slick and appeared dank and degraded.  Zack’s neural processor was clearing its buffering and reinitiating his cybernetic limb controls.  The perceptible and uncontrollably twitching that always accompanied a buffer dump seemed to go unnoticed by the armored humanoids that were dragging him.  They seemed not to notices his large frame and the added weight that his dense molecular fiber limbs added to his body. 

The overload had occurred when the Ma’Rni boarding party’s stun weapon had hit him.  He assumed it had been a full charge but wasn’t sure because his systems were designed to utilize energy as an offensive weapon up to a point.  The fading effects allowed him to being focusing as they stopped in front of solid looking hatch.  Zack noticed the form to his right pull and manipulate a cube.  The door opened in an irising fashion receding into the walls ceiling and floor in a somewhat circular pattern.

Zack listened as they spoke.  The data packet the ship had transmitted during the initial hails for contact and boarding had proved to be a simple enough process for Zack’s hybrid neural processors to utilize.  Their voices were heavily mechanized, yet he recognized it as that of the banter of soldiers attending to menial labor.  The words however made no sense, it must be a different dialect or language all together.  He was certain they were human or closely related under their armor.  He remembered the face of the black robed man on the screen.  He had most definitely been human-like in many ways under his clearly augmented form.

His captors drug him across the threshold and roughly deposited him on the slime covered floor.  The both stepped back.  The dark cell’s door closed with a faint his and a clang as the metal seated itself in place.

The floor was cold and slick with sludge-like moisture of unknown origins that clung to his clothes and skin as Zack finally began to surface from the blackness inhabited his dreams.   The chaotic dream that kept repeating each time he closed his eyes.  The fiery princess and her pleas were fading and his mind began to take stock of his surroundings.  The voice in his head was insistent that he wakeup.  Then his nose was assaulted by the thick feted smell made him sick and caused his lungs to ache with each breath. Finally, as conscious thought returned Zack remembered the brutal events that had left him unconscious on the floor yet again. 

The cell door slid open on its multifaceted irising track.   Zack’s eyes slid open at the sound.  The Frankenstein monsters stood just inside the door of his prison cell again.   Zack looked at the two brutes and a frown crossed his face.

“It’s been a while boys! I had begun to think you had left me here to rot,” Zack said.

They both held their stun baton in their massive hands.  Both Mutt and Jeff, their real names Zack didn’t know.   They never spoke.  They held their stunners their eyes seemed to sparkle with the promise of brutal use.

“So glad you could stop by and play,” Zack said resigned to the beating to come and the pain to come.

The two stepped closer.  Their black long coats didn’t even ripple.  The smaller of the two struck him without a word of hesitation.  The voltage flowed. Zack instantly dropped to his knees.

The arcs of blue harnessed lightning jumped across his newly reconstructed neural pathways.  The burning and agony then vanished as Zack’s biofeedback loops triggered.  Zack’s eyes flared with intensity as he realized what his body was finally healed enough to respond as designed.  The voltage that arced now flowed into the filaments of his monomer muscles.  Zack felt instantly that the shunted potential energy was available to his hands.

Zack said, “Mutt! I am tired of this!”

Zack sprung from the deck and slammed the palm of his hand into Mutt’s boney chin.  The sparks that had once leapt from his stunner now completed a circuit and flowed into Mutt and he began to convulse as he dropped to the sludge covered deck.

Jeff instantly sprung forward and as his stunner made contact with Zack’s body the blue arcs flowed into him and Zack grinned.  The brutal impact wasn’t even felt, only the increased the potential energy.

Zack spun in place, his foot contacting the knee of Jeff with an audible crack.  Jeff stumbled past Zack.  Zack then struck cobra like at the receding neck of the more massive of the two bullyboys.  The contact dropped Jeff almost instantly.

“You will not be dragging my unconscious body down the hall to your mistress this time boys!”, Zack exclaimed as he knelt to discover what else Jeff had on his person.  Zack took the stunner from Jeff’s now slack grip.  Zack reached into the pocket of Jeff’s black leather coat and retrieved the strange cube that they used to iris open the doors. 

“I have the cube,“ Zack said to the voice in his mind.

“Good! Now press the left to buttons in the following sequence,” the voice in his head responded.

First Draft - Exiting the H.A.M.S.T.E.R. Last Updated: 09/14/2016

The squad leader stood to the side of the ramp and gave the signal for the first of Sinclair's Raiders to exit the ramp of the hovering assault transport as the lush green and purple foliage of the jungle below batted to and fro in the vortex of four vectoring thrust engines above.  The relentless torrents of hot air not only forced it the thick liana to split, but  inflicted sufficient heat to cause the tops of the nearest trees to begin to wilt. He watched with an appraising eye as each of his team leaped out and then dropped into the heat of the jungle below using directive jets to land in a precise perimeter.  Then mere moments after they appeared upon the jungle floor as dark almost black silhouettes against the flowers and frawns one by one they vanished from sight in the millisecond flash that updated the  Chameleon Chromatic Perspective Projections Generators were switched into the active setting.  The dedicated camelion skin processors on-board the Mongoose Armor, that the Carver Corporation's Marine Contingent, gave it the stealthiest infra-red and visible light profiles of any weapons platform yet devised.  The company's armor wrights would be justifiably prideful if they knew in this one detail they had exceeded even the Tlasi at their height.

The squad leader stepped from the ramp where it hung above the canopy and moments later landed in a jet of compressed air that cushioned his armored fall to little more than he would have felt if he had jump down a half flight of stairs instead of the near 30 meter drop he had just completed.  Then he vanished into the deformed landing zone as his 'chameleon chrome'  updated and he signaled to the hovering H.A.M.S.T.E.R.; 

"All systems are green," he said into his mic.

"Roger! All green is varified.  Good hunting, Lieutenant!" the pilot responded in her thick Martian Irish brogue.

"Good hunting indeed!"  Lieutenant Sinclair replied, "Try to leave a few of the mange ridden nasties for me and mine."

The reply was filled with that lilt and humor that made all men smile, "Lieutenant, I kill'em as I find'em.  You just need to play the game better, if you want to play in the same league as the big girls!"

"I'll take that challenge Lieutenant Killafina," Jon replied, " you will owe me though!"

"Tin can bravado and testosterone is no match for a keen eye and a H.A.M.S.T.E.R.," she jabbed back.

He let the Killafina's last statement stand as he knew all too well the hell that was about to be unleashed when she finally settled down for her kind of fun.

Sinclair's squad's objective was clear and they all knew just how critical it was that they be in position before either the Ma’Rni Shock cyborgs or the Rocorian marines now confirmed from stealthed observation platforms to be working their way to the crashed site's coordinates.  Jon knew he had a narrow window to rendezvous with the Voiceless team and successfully conceal their ambush positions.  He figured at most the had an hour to cover the twenty miles of thick jungle, which on a good day was going to be no easy task.  His team's buzzers were going to be cutting a wide obvious track until the meat up with their native guide and his team.

He just hoped that the Intel Winnies had been correct when they told him not to worry about the obvious nature of their path from the drop zone.  The head Winnie had simply said,

"The Voiceless have better paths to the ancient site."

That was it, he refused to elaborate anymore than to tell him his old friend was supposed to meet him there and lead him in.  He wasn't sure why a voiceless traveling bard would have been selected for the task but the orders were clear on that point.  Jon didn't know what that meant and he only had 20 minutes to make it with his team to the way point. 

"We've got a mile to go and only minutes to get there people.  I want a single file line on Sergeant Major Martinez.  Move!"  he said.

"You heard the man, my bambinos! Line up and hold hands 'cuz I'm not going looking for any lost lambs today!", the SMaj's less than altruistic voice stated loud in each soldier's ear through the auditory implant, "We've bus to catch and we're already late!"

Then the SMaj's suit started buzz sawing its way through the thick lianas and under growth leaving a swath of pulverized vegetation in her wake.  The neat thing about the buzzer was its ability to mimic a native creature's swath of breakage, which in this case she had set to the Horned Saber.  She set the pace and all that followed were hard pressed to keep up especially Private Nathan Wanzowski who walked in her wake and had the task of cutting down what his diminutive scaled leader missed.  Thus, by the time Lieutenant Sinclair and his twitching tale end Charley came through the well tramped path there was no need to cut anything.  Their sole task was to monitor the presence of the wary predator, known as Askarsa'berat; and called 'Horned Sabers' or 'Saber Toads' by the Terrans, because it looked like a cross between a Terran horned toad and a Saber-Toothed Tiger.  

Horned Sabers Toads were extremely dangerous to unarmored troops, but could only damage some of the more sensitive joints of the heavy Mongoose chameleon chromed armor.  They posed little danger to the armored marines of Sinclair's Raiders, but were always monitored.  They couldn't see to attack the team, beyond a vague sensed motion, but the creatures were highly territorial and were constantly fighting each other, as they redefined their territorial dominance.  This usually ended in the death of the defeated male, but occasionally the losing male would submit to the largers dominance and then run away to attempt to survive and find new territory. 

Horned Sabers Toads were often a challenge in the jungle because they viewed anything that wasn't prey as a challenge to their dominance of the territory.  Though the one that followed the team was of the more cautious variety and followed their path at a cautious distance.  It seemed to know there was something bigger passing through.  It followed the team to the edge of its territory where it stopped and watched in puzzlement at the passage of a mysteries of existence.

The chameleon chrome projectors flickered and passed images from side to side projecting the illusion of a patch of haze melting through the jungle whenever there was the slightest processing resolution error. This default error illusion worked extremely well in nearly all environments.  The system perfect when stationary, did occasionally flicker mist to cover unknown pixels.

Though Lieutenant Sinclair noted that there was precious little that could be done to mask the progress of the heavy combat armor that was the standard issue of the elite palace guard, assigned defended the heir of the Ta’Leni clan and her chosen Battle Lord Zack Carver. The swath of passage would indeed pass for a Saber Toad trail in a few days but it to anyone who observed the passage of the nothing but the occasional wisp of haze that snapped and buzzed its way through the jungle, there could be no mistaking the presence of the military grade light bending armor and he knew there was nothing to prevent that detail. Which is why the team moved in a fashion that would encourage that assumption by any off planet invasion force, that might come upon it later.

Camouflaging their approach to the ambush position Sinclair hoped they would achive the suprise needed to utterly decimate the team of cyborgs and their Rocorian lap dogs.  Their progress was easily tracked by the swath of destruction that made Sabers Toads seem small by comparison as it arrowed straight for the coordinates fed to them by the spy before his treachery was unmasked and executed.  Now that the Sinclair's Raiders were on the ground, the downed team stood a chance of to accomplish the mission before the cyborgs and wolves reached the abandon monastery.  They would not live to see their chaotic plan implemented, now that Lt. Sinclair and his team were in the jungle and on an intercept course to catch them from behind at the moment they were engaged by the deadly Lt. Simmons stationed on the ridge above and the ever deadly Lt. Killafina.