Battleship

“Get out of here,” said Beast, just as the door gave way.

The Regents fighting unit smashes through the impediment in his path. He registers dispassionately how much force was required to pound through the obstruction and the information is then sent to the central repository for all information gathered regarding the humans.

It is his job to test as much as possible the “ground level” resources that the humans possess. Both the Land Commander and the Sea Commander are very interested in the results of his study. It is impossible to know for sure where and when particular information is going to be useful. Ultimately he doesn’t truly care about any of that. His job is to gather intel. The uses to which it will subsequently be put are of no interest to him.

There are more humans in front of him. This is not unanticipated. The primitive ship is infested with them.

His on-board attack systems examine the threat ratio each human represents. Several are fleeing. Their readouts register green. They are thus of no interest to him.

The largest one, however, glows a bright and furious red. It is approaching, coming down the stairs toward him. If there is fear in this specimen, it is being overwhelmed by what appears to be (he surmises) indignation. All of the human’s bodily readings are in the upper levels of what the alien has determined to be human norms. Heart rate, blood pressure, everything is spiking.

It is doubtless preparing to attack him.

This will be interesting.

The alien that was facing Beast looked different from the one he’d seen sprawled out on the examining table. It was shorter, squatter… but even that was simply relative, because it was nearly as big as Beast.

“You think you’re bad? Coming in this place like you’re gonna start trouble? Like you’re some thug? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re just a punk who doesn’t get that this isn’t a game.” Beast looks at the alien. “Well, all right, ‘thug,’” he sneered. “Let’s go.”

The alien started climbing the stairs, coming right at him. Beast grabbed the stair rails on either side, elevated his upper body and swung his legs into the alien. He felt a shudder of pain up and down as his feet impacted with the armor, but it was enough to send the creature tumbling backwards down the stairs. It lay in the hatchway, stunned for a moment.

Beast seized the opportunity to vault to the bottom of the stairs. He grabbed the hatchway door, which had been broken open by the alien but was still on its hinges. He swung it as hard and as fast as he could. The alien’s helmeted head was in between the hatchway and the door, and Beast slammed it with all his strength. It jolted the alien, causing its body to spasm.

Beast’s strategy was simple: crack the helmet, get it off, have access to the creature’s head and then pummel it into a fine paste.

He pulled back the door and slammed it a second time, a third time, but by the fourth the alien had gained control of itself. It caught the door and shoved it back wide. Beast jumped away, narrowly avoiding being crushed between the door and the bulkhead.

Beast came around fast and lunged at the alien, but it was too quick for him. Having regained its feet, it picked Beast up and threw him forward. Beast banged hard against the stairs and lay there for a moment, dazed. Then, digging his feet into the stairs, he propelled himself back as the alien lunged for him.

He crab-walked up the stairs, hurrying as fast as he could. The alien came after him, its armored feet clanking heavily on every step like a hammer being struck against a gong.

Beast got to his feet just as the alien almost reached the upper deck. While having the high ground advantage, Beast drove his fists into the creature’s armor as if he were working a body bag. All he managed to do, however, was break a couple of his knuckles. The alien simply stood there, gripping on to the railings for additional traction, taking all the punishment that Beast could dole out and providing no visible reaction at all.

Then, with an almost casual sweep of its backhand, the alien knocked Beast aside.

Beast slammed up against the bulkhead again. He almost sagged to the ground, the world whirling about him, but he managed to keep his feet.

“This isn’t going as well as I’d hoped,” he muttered.

The alien came up the stairs and slowly advanced on Beast. It was hard to be certain about its body language but it didn’t appear at all concerned that Beast would pose a threat for much longer.

Beast backed up, his mind racing, trying to think of something that would hurt it, something that could crack open that damned helmet. Then his eyes fell upon a fire axe affixed to the wall. He yanked it off its brackets and charged the alien.

The human is wielding something. Since it has not yet been proven to be any sort of known threat, the object in its hands is glowing green. Best to test its efficacy in order to determine whether it can, in fact, be a danger to any member of the Regents.

The alien stood there, apparently paralyzed with fear as Beast attacked, swinging the axe with all his strength.

The blade struck the helmet and there was a loud crack of something shattering. Fissures appeared in the faceplate, along with a small hole at the blade’s impact point.

The object in the human’s hand switches from green to red in the alien’s sensory array. It has been reclassified from harmless to a threat. As such, it must be disabled.

The alien reached out for the axe, moving with speed that belied its size. But Beast wasn’t exactly slow afoot either. He twisted to the right, dodging the creature’s lunge, and struck again. The cracks in the faceplate widened and now Beast could actually see a single, alien eye glaring out from within.

He brought the axe around again, but the alien intercepted it with its forearm. The blade glanced off it harmlessly, and with a quick movement the alien sent the axe tumbling. It clattered to the floor near an array of steam lines.

Beast tried to get to it but the alien was blocking his way. He lashed out with a foot, kicking the alien squarely in what Beast imagined was its chest. It rocked slightly back on its heels but otherwise appeared undamaged.

Beast quickly feinted left, then right, then left again. The alien went for the third feint, lunged at him, and Beast quickly cut right again with the sureness of foot that only someone who had played plenty of soccer could possess. The alien had left just enough space for Beast to dodge past it. It swung a fist around and slammed it into the wall, barely missing Beast’s head as he passed. Had the blow landed, Beast would have wound up as nothing but a red mass against the bulkhead.

Quickly, the towering engineer grabbed the fallen axe and turned to face the alien, who was advancing on him yet again.

The human’s physical capabilities and resourcefulness have been sufficiently tested. It is now time to terminate this exercise and move on.

The alien moved toward Beast with what seemed like new resolve. Beast realized that another shot or two at the faceplate wasn’t going to get the job done.

So instead of attacking directly, he swung the axe and severed the nearest steam line. Hot vapor blasted straight into the face of the oncoming alien.

The eye that Beast could make out within the helmet widened in surprise as the boiling steam enveloped the creature’s head within. There then came an outraged howl of pain as the steam practically cooked the alien’s head inside its helmet. It staggered back, still making those strange noises that sounded like a combination of a whale song and a lion’s roar.

The steam was now blasting everywhere, turning the entire area into a blinding sauna. Boiling vapor didn’t