"Nothing is good enough for the Terran military machine. Where other races reach a certain point of combat effectiveness and martial might and say 'this is perfection, nothing will ever be better' a Terran will say 'ok, but can we make it more deadly?'
"This attitude is why any race, when they misconstrue the majority of humanity's willingness to just dance around having fun, are so shocked when they come face to face with the actual human military.
"Most of these species have attacked lightly armed civilian vessels, or poorly guarded colonies, or militias with obsolete equipment and made all of their military planning based on that alone.
"Almost as if the BOLO supertank is invisible, as if that vast self-aware stadium sized engine of destruction is something they can just ignore. Most species can't envision the fact that the Terrans designed entire ships around moving those vast engines of warfare.
"But beyond ships, tanks, even past the power armor and the man portable weapons, every single species, every single time, is absolutely shocked at the effectiveness, deadliness, and absolute force projector that is the Terran infantryman.
"Over their history they have undergone strength training, constant combat training. Later, in their history at least, they were enhanced with chemicals, cybernetics, phasic enhancers, unholy blendings of one or more.
"All with the simple question: How can we increase our soldier's killing power?
"There is no pinnacle of martial might to a Terran. How can there be, when they believe perfection is a road not a goal?
"Just the simple citizen-soldier Terran is one of the most fearsome engines of destruction the universe has ever seen.
"They climb over their own dead like the Mantid assaulting a rival hive. They move as one coordinated whole like the Treana'ad sweeping across the plains. They are as paranoid as a Pubvian in a crowd. They are as strong and fearsome as a Rigellian female defending her ducks. They are as cunning and quick to strike and fade back as a Kobold.
"A Terran is like the universe itself looked at all of the advantages of all the other races possessed and said: You know what, I wonder what would happen if I crammed all of this into a primate from a death world?
"It created a bipedal omnivore predator capable of technological, artistic, philosophical, and sociological progression, that not only developed the atomic bomb but then used it and charged into the debris cloud with rifles and bayonets.
"Then, the universe itself went: Behold: Humanity!
"If we listen close, we can hear the universe's laughter." - Ngwarkit Angrawark, Rigellian military leader, -15 PG.
The lemur slid to a stop in the room. It was round, polished black walls that had a slight glitter to them as if there were tiny crystal just under the surface. There were a dozen doors leading into the room aside from the one that Natraya and On'trak had followed the lemur through.
"Great, now where?" the lemur asked. It slowly turned, looking at all the doors. "Looks like warsteel walls, inset doors with no controls, ambient nanite generated light. Great. Which door?"
They all suddenly rose up and a Dweller flanked by two of the larger spawn with a half-dozen small robots at the base of their robes floated in the entrances to the doorways. Natraya noticed that the little robots were like ovals with six legs, a saw blade and a pincher at the front, and a set of four tentacles waving over a crystal globe that glowed blue and had a brain inside that was fitted with tubes and wires and cylinders.
"Oh, now all y'all gonna get serious," the lemur said. It looked around. "Warsteel walls too. Nice."
Natraya noticed that the Dwellers ignored both her and On'trak to all turn and stare at the lemur. The robots clacked their pinches and revved their saws, the spawn clacked their claws and unlimbered their bladearms, and tapped their pointed leg ends against the metal.
The lemur turned slowly in place as the Dwellers floated in a bare few feet, giving room for the doors to shut.
"Stay out of it unless its to defend yourself," the lemur said, waving its arms again and settling into that odd spread legged stance, one hand forward, the other by its waist. The lemur inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
The Dweller moved forward slowly, half of them carrying crystal carved into blades, the other ones carrying rifles and pistols with crystals poking out of the tops. The spawn hissed loudly, acidic drool falling from their heavily mandibled jaws and onto the floor. The robots clicked and whirred.
Natraya and On'trak pressed back against the wall, on either side of the door, remembering the lemur's advice.
Don't be like good ol' Daphne. If you lean back against the door it can open, dump you at the enemy's feet, and close before the hippy and the talking dog can help you, the lemur had said.
Natraya wondered, for a split second, who 'Daphne' was, as she mentally imagined all of her scrapes and contusions on a doll's body and, in her mind, began applying paste to the wounds. She slowed down her breathing, breathing in deep and slow through her nose and exhaling naturally through her mouth with her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth.
"You feel lucky, punks?" the lemur asked, making his voice sound rough and gravelly.
FWOOP! all of the Dwellers fired off the conical blast of psychic energy at the same time.
Natraya watched as he ducked, bobbed, weaved, and waved his arms for balance to get out of the way, looking for a moment like there was a half dozen of him moving. Then they all seemed to collapse into the same lemur, who stood back up from where he had been leaning back, bending only at the knees, his back level with the floor before he straightened up.
"Did you fire six shots, or only five?" the lemur asked, his voice still rough and gravelly. He moved his arms and this time there was a slight bluish aura that trailed a few inches behind his hands until it wisped away.
FWOOP! they tried again, to the same effect, the lemur moving even faster. Natraya noted that the lemur's feet stayed planted in the same spot.
"Again. Faster. More precise," the lemur snapped, straightening up. "Your masters should beat such poor students as you."
This time the Dwellers tried one or two at a time. Each time the lemur took a half step to the right or left, back or forward, completely avoiding the ripple through the air. Turning his body so he presented his profile to the ones firing the crushing psychic blasts. He made it look easy, simple.
The last one fwooped out and he thrust one hand out. Sparks flew and the cone shattered, blue and purple sparks showering out around his hand.
"I fought a rogue Mantid Speaker who'd turned to piracy. His psychic domination was thicker and sharper," the lemur said, his voice remote and dispassionate. "Again. Faster. Harder. More precise."
The Dwellers tried again, this time floating to one side or the other to try to get a better again.
"I can see your pupils. Only a few microns wide, but I can still see them. They glow purple before you fire. You open a hidden third eye slightly and your brow wrinkles right before you fire and the third eye stares at your target area," the lemur said, his voice sounding bored and remote.
FWOOP! the Dwellers tried again, alternating their attempts. Natraya noted they were getting oily looking.
The lemur repeated just stepping out of the way of each conical blast, his hands behind his back. For the life of her it looked like he was just wandering around the middle of the room.
"You guys have the pattern recognition of a politician with a cratered head wound," the lemur said. He flexed his arms, extending his fists down past his waist, his elbows slightly bent. It made the muscles on his shoulders, back, chest, and abdomen flex and ripple.
Natraya noted that the black glittering floor flexed slightly, the same with the ceiling.
The Dwellers stopped, watching carefully.
The lemur made the slow motions with its arms again, the blue nimbus surrounding his hands and leaving trails of faint blue energy that dissipated within a heartbeat. He set his feet, stopping his arm motions and holding out his hand with the other at his waist. He curled his outstretched fingers twice, quickly.
"Again," the lemur said. "With feeling."
The spawn and the robots screeched and charged as the armed Dwellers opened fire with their rifles and pistols.
-----
Shandaar drifted down the hallway, seeing the lights pulse and hearing the grating buzz of the alert. Young Ones floated by, some holding weapons in cold excitement, others with their hands inside their sleeves and folded at their stomachs, coldly anticipating showing everyone that the lemur was nothing more than an aberration that they, personally, would defeat.
I, who has the exact same powers, abilities, knowledge, and biology of the others, who might as well be a clone of everyone else, will surely succeed where the others have failed, because in my mind, I'm the Chosen One and the hero of the story, she snorted inside her own mind. Surely, I, being the pinnacle of Atrekna, shall prevail over an unevolved simple lemur where all others have not.
Another group hustled by, followed by a wave of servitor collectors, all of the crystals glowing blue to signify that they were full of harvested brains. They clacked and whirred, their sharp ended legs clicking on the phasic tiles, their pinches clacking, their tentacles flailing, and the saws buzzing.
Yes, I am sure he will be impressed by basic harvester units, she thought. There is no chance that he will just kick them across the room like a discarded food carton. Instead, he shall surely be overwhelmed by such awesome and powerful machines containing the full power of a single unevolved non-psychic brain.
She floated through a chamber where Atrekna were slicing open the membranes on top of stasis pools containing dangerous slavespawn.
Well, ones that could fit through the corridors and have enough room in the chambers to effectively fight.
A few touched her with psychic power to try to get her attention but she rebuffed them, shoving back hard enough that a few of the Young Ones shuddered or made noises of distress.
**attend to your own duties feeble ones** she snapped at them, adding a stinging psychic slap to her thoughts. **the lemur is coming you should prepare**
They withdrew, chagrined, and Shadaar kept moving.
She had checked the escape buds, carefully engineered biomechanical escape craft that budded off from the main organism, preparing one of the larger ones, more comfortable, and with better range and even jumpspace organs.
If she was going to be forced to flee, she didn't see a reason to float around uncomfortable until someone felt like coming along and rescuing her.
Going over the escape bud, she had remembered something and now was headed to examine it.
At a motion the membrane covering the entrance to the large storage area near the 'mouth' of the organism moved aside and she drifted in.
The ship had been gathering wreckage from one of the fierce battles the lemurs had fought against the massive ancient autonomous war machines that had rebelled against all three sides of the ancient war that everyone had lost.
The room was large, the floor, made of Substance X, was covered with a thin layer of engineered biomatter. Multiple large blisters were scattered about, all covering recovered debris from the battle site, preventing them from emitting or receiving any phasic power.
It moved toward one of the larger ones that had the thickest membrane over it. Crystals had been put in place around the mound, all of them glimmering with phasic energy, each connected to the next by a thin line of psychic energy. When she got close she could feel it emanating from the contents.
Hatred.
Wrath.
Rage.
Promises of death and destruction.
She shuddered slightly before reaching into her satchel, opening a vial, and tipping a few of the Holy Insects onto her fingertip. She closed the vial, then dropped the insects down her back. They immediately bit, the pain lancing through her, clearing the grumbling, static-like rumble of hatred.
She drifted past the circle of energy beams and it hit her even harder.
Pain
Suffering
The taste of red wine that suddenly turned to the thick taste of blood.
She had a sudden vision of a bovine mammal floating upside down in a river of thick mud.
She reached out and used her power to split the thick membrane. It resisted for a moment, then collapsed as the fluid rushed out. She drifted backwards, avoiding the rushing thick fluid, and stared at the contents of the membrane.
It looked like a bird of prey. Folded wings still laden with a few explosive. Heavy black armor pitted and cracked by heavy weapons. Weapon blisters still containing weapons that whispered of death and destruction. Landing gear extended, lifting the craft up and preventing the tracks from touching the floor. Clear windows around the cockpit. On the front of the craft was painted a mostly naked lemur, clad only in circles of silver over her impressive mammary glands and her groin. She had a sword held in both hands, being pulled back over her head. Her hair was as bright as the blood splatter on her skin and the fan of blood from the blade.
i will kill every one of you the image whispered to her in the low throaty voice of a lemur female. It made her shiver, the sheer power and dominance put forth by a mere picture painted, lovingly, by lemur hands. For a moment she could taste desert dust, feel the hot breath of desert wind, smell the acrid tang of lemur blood, dried animal dung, lemur sweat, and steel.
Shandaar floated back, letting the waves of malevolence push her backwards. She closed her eyes, feeling the biting of the Holy Insects on the flesh on her back, the waves of almost-heat from the Substance-X armor of the vehicle, the prickling of the almost sentient growling of the dormant electronic warfare attack programs still loaded in targeting systems and electronic warfare equipment.
She just nudged herself to the left or right as she slowly drifted back, her main eyes closed, her third eye barely open as she stared at the vehicle and the bright aura of violence and destruction around it.
Again, she was reminded of the words of Dalvanak the Enlightened One.
Lemur rage and hatred almost instill life itself into their weapons and vehicles, the Substance-X responding to their emotions until the weapon or vehicle quivers with a life of its own that desires nothing more than the death and destruction of its enemies, Dalvanak whispered from within Shandaar's memories.
As she drifted through the door, the membrane opening, she lashed out with her power.
Three of the crystals surrounding the vehicle shattered.
DEATH TO ALL WHO OPPOSE ME! rang out clearly in her mind right before the membrane closed and an emergency phasic suppression membrane clicked into place over the doorway.
Satisfied with what she had done, she turned and glided back toward the command deck.
Another group of Young Ones ran by, these ones garbed in the crystalline body armor normally reserved for direct combat during a planetary assault. They exuded confidence and arrogance, a surety that all they had to do was let the lemur see them and the lemur would fall down dead. The crystal was doped with Substance-X making it a dark purple, there was thick phasic crystals jutting up from an efflorescence of crystalline foam on the shoulders and the forearms, and there was a thick aura of phasic battlescreens around each of the Young Ones who sped by.
They were sure that nothing the lemur could do would affect their armored and shielded personage.
I'm sure you'll fare majestically and the lemur will be quite impressed with you right before he beats you to death with his bare limbs, Shandaar scoffed, watching them bustle by.
-----
Natraya watched as the lemur grabbed a robot leaping at him, spun, and drove the robots legs into the chest of the last of the Dwellers before smashing the crystal globe with his hand and yanking out the brain with a sharp bird of prey cry.
The lemur stood there a moment, blood running from several scrapes and nicks on its torso, its pants torn in several places. Natraya noticed it was vibrating slightly, still holding the pose from when it had yanked out the brain from within the last robot.
The lemur dropped the brain and flexed his arms again by putting his fists down by his waist, bending his elbows, and curling his body slightly, making all of his muscles stand out. He held it for a moment then suddenly relaxed.
"Everyone all right?" the lemur asked.
"Uh-huh," Natraya said.
"Affirmative," On'trak said.
"Good," the lemur said. It bent down and picked up one of the broken crystal globes. "Huh, I wonder if you wore this as a hat if it would block their stupid psychic attacks?"
"I am unwilling to wear such a thing," On'trak rumbled.
"What he said," Natraya added.
"They definitely thought they were going to win," the lemur said. It looked around. "Huh, I probably should have asked one of them which way to the command center."
One of the door frames glowed red.
"Not this one," a cold sibilant voice hissed from midair.
The Ancient One slapped his forehead with an open palm as the lemur laughed and ran at the doorway, its eyes a bright burning red.
**idiot**