When he stopped getting updates from Ktheg!lik, Fana!o knew things were getting bad.
Oh, they clearly had so victories early on, and they were bleeding the enemy, but they were losing ground steadily. And these bastards seed happy enough to commit war cris, attacking and killing defenseless civilians. Do they know that they are committing genocide if they wipe us out here? If they did, would they even care? He suspected that he knew the answer.
Fana!o was certain that he was about to die. He couldn't do anything for the others except buy a little ti. But that was worth doing. And if doing so would buy even an extra few seconds, it was worth it to try to die with style.
The aliens had slaughtered their way through the barracks in Level 5, and they were about to do the sa to all the private rooms on Level 6. He would make his stand at the entrance to that corridor. He heard them coming down the stairs.
He waited until they were close to the corner, then reached out so that the butt of his spear was visible, and struck it against the wall three tis, loud and slow.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
As he hoped, he could hear the aliens stop moving. Slowly, he moved into view, and held up one hand for them to stay still. He looked them over slowly. The five of them appeared identical in their armor. Finally, he picked one at random, and beckoned to the enemy. He moved his spear into a ready position.
His chosen opponent looked around at its fellows, then stepped forward. As the other soldiers chattered, it reached up, and removed its helt with a hiss of air, revealing a face with crimson skin, black bone jutting from its forehead, and a bump in the middle like Nik!eh's. For a mont, nothing happened. The pause lengthened.
Then the invader grinned hugely, showing fangs, drew its weapon and fired.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Fana!o was already moving, ducking around the corner. He could hear laughter from the invaders. He reached out with his arms and made an emphatic rude gesture around the corner. He didn't know how their anatomy worked but he was sure the intent was clear enough.
At the sa ti, while they were looking at his arms, he pressed the button on the little automaton on the floor with his foot and kicked it gently so that it would land in their midst. With perfect timing—so perfect, Fana!o suspected the golem of tampering—the strange automata-killing bomb went off.
The entire Level went dark, and so of the lights above and below as well. The only illumination remaining was reflected light from farther away, and small, glowing points on the enemy armor. The one that had removed its helt yelled angrily. The others were completely silent, and immobile.
Fana!o closed in, making sure to smile widely so that his own teeth would reflect light in the darkness. The enemy's cries increased in pitch and volu. It actually managed to block Fana!o's first thrust with its black bones, so Fana!o took it as a challenge, and stabbed the alien through the throat on his second try. Staring intently at his enemy, Fana!o twisted the spear, pulled it out, and in the flick of an ear stabbed the monster in the eye, driving the blade in deep.
That's one.
Quickly, he ran behind another of the enemy-turned-statues, and felt around on the helt, trying to rember how the first one had removed his. It took longer than he liked, but eventually, there was a click and a hiss. The alien started shouting frantically at the top of its lungs until Fana!o silenced it forever with his dagger.
That's two.
The third helt ca off quickly, and the screaming was desperate and high-pitched. He could hear motion on the Level above, and knew he was almost out of ti. A slash of his dagger, and a stab to make sure.
That's three.
Pain blood in his side and he registered the sound a mont later. He ducked behind another high-tech statue, and with grim determination, reached up and managed to pull off the next helt. He was nearly deafened by the shrill screams of terror right in his face, and footsteps thundered down the stairs as more shots tried to pick him off.
Fana!o grinned savagely, and delayed the kill, so that the shrieks of horror would find their way into the nightmares of any foe who survived, for the rest of their days.
Another shot, and pain erupted from his left ear. Sounds beca indistinct, and the darkness grew more absolute. With a final, hate-filled thrust, he ended the life of the screaming foe, then began to fall.
Four...
He never felt the impact with the ground.
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