Jason Halstead: The Colony

It fell back, swatting and beating at the smoking mark on its head. The Vitallian ape howled in pain, causing the other two to look up from their feast. Cooper frowned. All of the rifles on the ship had been modified for maximum burn. He’d even checked to make sure his was set at full power, yet he hadn’t burned through the creatures head and into its brain.

He aimed at it again, this time focusing on its face, and pulled the trigger. It felt back, hands reaching for its face as it collapsed. It jerked and thrashed on the ground, hidden behind the dead beast they’d been feasting on. The other two stared at it until one began to look around.

Cooper ducked behind a tree before it could see him, his heart hammering in his chest. They were resistant to his laser, but not invulnerable. The face was less like a monkey and more like a baboon, with a pronounced snout and jaw. More importantly, he suspected, the face had less fur on it. The fur coat was strange; it seemed to change shades as they moved. Were they some sort of chameleon?

He turned and risked a glance around the edge of the tree. One of them was over inspecting the now still fallen beast. The other had crossed the stream and had its nose up, sniffing the air. Cooper felt his mouth part but kept his gasp hidden. They were a hundred feet away, how could they smell him?

“ The heat,” he whispered to himself, realizing the tropical temperatures had him sweating. He’d adapted to it, forgetting about it in his excitement. Now he realized he’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned about hunting. Then again, he’d never hunted animals before, just people. Humans didn’t have the fine senses that animals did.

He looked again and noticed the sharp looking claws on the fingers of the Vitallian monkey. No opposable thumb, but claws and strength that would turn him to shreds in no time. With a fresh surge of adrenaline making his skin tingle, Cooper raised his rifle back into firing position and sighted it in quickly. He aimed for the face this time, hoping to disable it in a single shot.

It saw him moving and let loose a howl. An answering cry came from the other one, but Cooper focused on the more immediate threat. He fired, smelling the heat coming from the over-powered rifle as it generated another invisible beam of energy. The effect was instantaneous, striking the creature and sending it howling and screeching off to the side. He could hear it beating at its face where he’d shot it and occasionally see an arm flap as it rolled and scrambled around on the jungle floor.

The other one was moving fast, charging at him now and closing the distance alarmingly fast. Cooper’s rifle would shoot again, but he risked overheating it and either shutting it down or, more likely, breaking it. He didn’t have time to debate the merits of short term versus long term benefits, instead he snapped off a quick shot that hit the alien baboon on the side. It threw itself to the side, hissing as it did so, and sat up to stare at him. The jaws opened wide, allowing it to scream at him and showed a mouth full of very sharp and dangerous looking teeth.

It lowered itself back to all fours and sprang forward towards him. Cooper gasped and checked his rifle, seeing the display was powered down. It had shut down to prevent a thermal overload. He was fucked.

Cooper looked up at the creature charging at him. The irony washed over him — he’d hunted and killed seventeen people, making them beg and plead with him as he stole the life from them. Now he was going to be ripped apart and eaten by a mere animal. He stepped back from the tree, holding his rifle like a club. He could get in at least one swing.

The creature was knocked over onto its side, blood spraying from it as it tumbled across the soft jungle ground. Cooper knew his mouth was wide open again. What could have killed it? He looked around frantically. The other one had fled, hurt too badly by his shot he assumed. He looked left and right again, expecting either someone from the Black Hole to step out or…

“ Put your gun down and hands up.”

Cooper felt his stomach ice over at the words. He started to turn his head when he heard the man grunt at him. He lowered his rifle slowly and stood up, hands raised. Movement ahead of him caught his eyes. A man emerged from the jungle shadows, covered in a mixture of some sort of paint and threadbare clothing that served as camflauge.

“ Survivors?” Cooper croaked. He’d found them first, but rather than hunting them they had saved him. He almost laughed.

“ Come down to finish the job?” The man behind him asked.

“ It’s the same ship, Captain.” The man approaching him from the front said. Cooper noted he had a strange looking gun, not an energy weapon, but he couldn’t identify it.

“ Let’s take him back to camp. This is a bad place to ask questions.”

“ Sir, it’s a long walk to have to keep him quiet.”

Cooper turned slowly so he could view both men. The one referred to as Captain had the stance and body language of a man used to being in charge. The other was a little taller and more heavily muscled, but also younger. Both wore what accounted to being little more than scraps of clothing that looked to be barely held together on their very lean frames.

“ Are you the only two?” Cooper dared to ask.

His answer was a rapidly approaching fist that crashed into his temple and knocked him senseless.

“ I can’t get over how this place smells!” Sasha’s voice carried a tint of awe as she spoke. She looked up and down the small stream they had found and were now resting at.

“ Smells fine to me,” Brand grunted.

Klous watched his security officer — in reality his chief thug — carefully. The man’s impatience with getting revenge was becoming consuming. He’d picked him up several years back while fencing some salvaged freight. Brand had apparently screwed up something with the organized crime organization he’d been in and needed a new job and a new place to be. Klous had never found out what the crime against the crime lords had been, now he wondered if that should have been more of a priority for him.

“ No, I mean it smells so clean, so fresh, so…”

“ Alive,” Aran finished, drawing surprised attention from the others. “You don’t smell the oil and plastic and synthetic shit that every space station and terra formed world have because of the air scrubbers.”

Klous found himself nodding thoughtfully. “Only Earth had enough natural trees and plants to keep the air breathable, at least it used to. Now this place does… oh yeah, we’re going to be set up great!”

He turned, grinning at the others. He saw expressions that mirrored his own, hope and optimism. It was unusual for him, but it felt good. He felt good, he realized. They’d stopped at the stream to risk a drink and to cool down. Small fish and even some type of tiny shelled creatures lived in it, but they weren’t big enough to be a threat.

“ We’ve been walking for what, three or four hours?” Sasha asked. She was looking down at herself.

“ Yeah, probably,” Klous said, grateful for chance to ogle her chest without fear of discovery. Her shirt — all of their shirts really — were soaked through with sweat. The stop at the stream to drink had recharged them all.

“ I think I’ve lost some weight!”

Brand snorted. “We all have — sweat!”

“ I’m not so sure…”

Klous continued to look at her and realized that she was right. She did look different. A little more curve to her shape and, impossibly, a little more lift to her breasts. It would have been impossible to notice without the humidity and sweat making it stick to her.

“ Look at yourselves too!” Sasha said, her eyes going to the others and finally locking with Klouses. “Don’t just stare at my tits.”