Chapter 849: HISTORICAL ARCHIVE

Chapter 849: HISTORICAL ARCHIVE

The day was chilly as the breeze swept across the land. The wind was sweeping in from the pole, across the vast plains, bringing winter with it. Grain, newly introduced to be planted and genetically engineered to flourish on the planet, had all been harvested and no longer waved beneath the red sun. The field was surrounded by carefully twisted steel wire with little points held up on wooden posts, marking the matron's property to all who might see it. Other fields were short grasses specially chosen to be delicious and nutritious for the animals that grazed on the fields.

The moo-moo's that normally contently grazed had all been moved to a different field.

Except for a small handful of dead moo-moo's scattered across the field, out by the creek.

A handful of Treana'ad were moving across the field. Four were workers, only two meters tall, wearing moo-moo tender hats and moo-moo tender wraps that the Terrans called serapes. One was a Matron, four meters tall and resplendent in her glory.

The last was a warrior, wearing a moo moo tender hat like the workers but the serape around his torso was a different pattern. While the workers were wearing single pistol belts, the matron was wearing crossed pistol belts.

The warrior was wearing a battered moo-moo tender hat, crossed pistol belts as well as carrying a rifle of steel and wood with marvelously engraved decorative brass pieces. In a shoulder rig was another pistol, hidden by the colorful sarape.

The warrior also had the pebbled look that males got when they got older.

That was unusual and remarkable on its own, since until very recently, males, especially males of such obvious breeding lines, rarely lived long enough to gain that appearance on their carapace.

The six Treana'ad were all moving toward where a silvery, saucer shaped craft had set down in the field, surrounded by a complex runic pattern that had been pressed into the grass by the craft's engine.

Outside of the saucer shaped craft stood four figures. A meter and a half high, they had long, spindly limbs, long necks, and large wedge shaped heads, the wider part at the top where large, completely black, almond shaped eyes stared at the world around them. Their gray skin was slightly shiny in the lights from the silver saucer.

In front of the four spindly gray creatures were two moo-moos. Both were laying on their sides. Their stomachs had been ripped open, the intestines spread around. The flesh peeled back from their skulls, and they were both missing their left rear hoof.

The Treana'ad arrived, the matron moving over to talk to the gray skinned creatures, three of which were wearing olive drab green ponchos, the fourth wearing nothing but a gun belt across the body. The matron nodded as all four held out badges, bright golden stars with inscriptions.

The large warrior moved over to the dead moo-moos as the warriors whispered to one another. The warrior touched the intestines, moving them slightly, then moved to examine the wounds in the belly. He checked the skulls as the matron whispered quietly to the gray sexless creatures with the large black eyes. He checked the leg with the missing hoof, lifting it slightly, turning his head back and forth to get a good look at it.

The breeze swept away a lot, preventing him from getting a good read with his antenna, but he still looked over everything carefully as he stood up and walked slowly around the dead moo-moos. He could smell the warrior's distress and the matron's anxiety and anger that someone had desecrated her valuable and cherished moomoos.

The warrior slowly drew the pistol from the shoulder rig and everyone held their breaths even as they stared at it.

It bore a resemblance to the standard issue Treana'ad plasma pistol, except for the orange tip at the end of the barrel. The plasma exciter wheels on either side were not spokes plasteel wheel, were not gray-green color. Instead they were solid, white with red curves. The plasma chamber was bigger, the aiming fins larger, and it had what looked like white material decorating the plasma chamber. There were rings at the end of the barrel of the pistol that were red and white, almost decorative.

The warrior stared at the pistol for a long moment, then reholstered it.

"What... what transpired here?" the naked gray biped asked.

"Such savagery," the matron said, shivering. "My poor moomoos."

The warrior looked around slowly.

"Another fearsome malevolent gourd killing, matron," the warrior said. "Just like last year."

"Will there be more?" one of the workers asked.

The warrior nodded. "Without a doubt," the warrior clicked.

"Can we catch the killer, stop the killings?" the matron asked, wringing her hands together.

The warrior looked around, reaching into a pocket on his sarape. He withdrew a set of Terran mirrorshades, modified for a Treana'ad, and slowly put them on, careful not to disturb his battered moomoo tender hat.

He motioned at the fearsome looking gourds, all staring at the group, at the mutilated moomoos.

"If fate smiles on us," the warrior said.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!

IT'S THE GREAT FESTIVE HOLIDAY GOURD, P'THOK!