Stranded on a Tiny Planet
Chapter 10: Taken Hostage

Later that evening...

Traynar had arrived just ahead of Squadron 2 to rejoin Anu and relieve Hitalel. A brief search of the area marked with a signal of flashing light from an energy staff allowed him to replace them amid the treetops in sight of the lake and the giant; whom was now laying on his stomach at the lake’s shore. He’d moved. With relief he landed next to his mate and they embraced briefly.

“What has happened?”

Anu gestured to the prostrate form, “He made it to the lake and drank and since then he’s been sleeping.”

He surveyed the massive sleeping form a moment and then lowered his voice, “So what did you do?”

“Leeching weed,” she explained simply.

Traynar nodded slowly, “That might work.” He incredulously shook his head but kept his voice quiet so Hitalel wouldn’t be able to hear, “I still can’t believe you’re doing it...and that I’m letting you.”

Anu’s plumage flicked up sassily, “Regretting not turning me in?”

Her mate smirked and shook his head.

She laughed quietly at him. Although she neglected to tell him about her near crushing experience. Traynar was already wound tight over the whole situation; no sense making it worse.

“I will need to gather more leeching weed tonight.” She stated quietly.

Traynar’s eyes went wider and he said through grit dental ridges, “Now I think I need to turn you in.”

...

All through the night Traynar, Anu, and the three other scouts kept watch. Nothing happened. As light began to return Anu stretched her stiff legs and tapped her mate’s shoulder.

“Cover for me. I’m going to get more leeching weed.”

He gave her a look that said he didn’t approve but also that he wasn’t going to stop her. The lavender skinned female floated from her branch and flew down over the forest floor away from the other scouts. The dim, but ever brightening morning made replaceing the leeching weed much more difficult so it took Anu longer to replace what she was looking for. At last, near the edge of a clearing in the trees she spotted the tell-tale tentacles of the weeds unfurling toward the light. She landed and began picking.

As she knelt, gathering a sizeable bundle she heard a twig snap audibly. Her plumage flipped up with alert, her eyes darting for the source. Nothing presented itself. All was quiet again save for the normal calls of the forest creatures as the forest awoke.

SNAP! CRASH! SNAP!

Anu’s heart erupted into panicked beats when she startled, turned, and saw a huge, gray sand dragon charging toward her from the tree line to her left. She’d only seen such a beast from her history and scouting lessons which depicted them as the fearsome steeds of the Rogashay invaders. The intimidating sight of the lumbering scaly beast barreling toward her made her drop her bundle of weeds and fly off the ground.

She didn’t get very high before she was struck from behind. Anu cried out as she hit the ground on her stomach and was forcibly pinned down by a sand dragon’s clawed foot. It hissed next to her back, long wet tongue flickering against her head rapidly. She whimpered, shuddering as its foul breath wafted against her head. Out of the corner of her eye she could see rows of the lizard’s small but numerous razor teeth flash.

“Ru’tra. Hold.” A deep voice barked in a commanding tone.

The huge lizard hissed and lifted its head away, but kept its foot firmly planted into Anu’s back. She couldn’t see who it was, but she could hear him approaching. A foot clad in leathery scaled boots stopped next to her head. To her left she could hear more feet hitting the ground and the movement of more sand dragons.

“Ru’tra, release.” The voice commanded.

With a groan of submission, the sand dragon lifted its foot, releasing Anu. She gasped for breath and sat up quickly. The sand dragon gave a snarling hiss and she froze.

“Don’t try and run Ansheeta. Ru’tra gets excited by runners.”

Anu looked up and beheld her assailant. He was very tall, double her height, and covered in scaly markings across his muscular frame. The rough crest from his forehead gave no doubt he was a Rogashay. This was her first encounter with one as they were normally found on the outskirts of the forest as well as across the wasteland. It had been generations since they went to war with them; so long that many of the current EFP members were not privy to such memories, Anu among them. But their training did familiarize them with the Rogashay as they were well known bandits.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Anu asked, trying to mask her fear with little success.

The Rogashay leaned over, his yellowish green eyes fierce and confident, “I am Boroxle, leader of this company. And you...are my prisoner.”

Anu was suddenly seized from behind by a second Rogashay who pinned her wrists behind her back.

“No! Let me go!” she protested.

“I think not. You’re far too valuable to just let go.”

Anu glanced around and saw five Rogashay bandits and their sand dragons. Three were still astride the huge beasts, staring down at her with contempt.

Boroxle approached her with a scrutinizing eye. He took her chin in his hand and turned her head to look at the base of her plumage. He noted the scales were taller and pointed, indicating her age; young but not recently Emerged. He also took note of her EFP jumpsuit.

“So...you’re a flying scout.” He commented in his gravely deep voice as a smile crossed his lipless mouth, “Tell me scout, why have your patrols ceased? We have not seen any for several days. Have you forgotten about us?”

The other Rogashay laughed mildly at his comment.

As a scout, Anu was trained not to produce any information of her duties. However, telling them there was a giant alien roaming the forest might be so unbelievable it would sound like a lie. It could also prove to spark their paranoia.

“There’s something in these woods far worse than you.” She stated ominously.

“Really?” Boroxle sounded disbelieving but intrigued, “And what is it?”

Anu didn’t look at him, “We don’t know what it is. But it can drink ponds dry and eat Gold-Scaled Leviathans.”

Boroxle raised a spiked brow suspiciously.

“If you don’t believe me, send one of your men to Anashee Lake. It’s there now. If I were you, I’d leave before it replaces and eats you too.”

“Full of stories this one.” Boroxle stated after a moment.

Quite suddenly, a blur of green flashed and one of the Rogashay bandits was knocked off of his sand dragon. The bandits were taken off guard and began looking up. A second bandit cried out in pain as he was knocked from his mount. Anu saw the iridescent flash of Traynar’s plumage in the rising sun as he swooped overhead.

“Traynar.” she said quietly.

Boroxle straightened and in a flash produced a long energy staff from a holster on his back. It crackled and opened, producing a glowing blue spear head. Anu was about to scream a warning but the Rogashay leader was faster as he flung the weapon with expert precision.

Traynar saw the oncoming spear and twisted in midair, dodging the fatal impalement but still receiving a gash across his middle. Concentration broken by pain, he fell, but managed to slow himself enough to avoid a deadly crash. He rolled in the grass and righted himself in a fighting stance, energy staff brandished.

Boroxle strode toward him confidently, but unhurried. A metal band on his wrist blinked with a blue light and the thrown energy spear came back to him as if on a string. He caught it expertly and charged at Traynar with frightening speed.

“Traynar!” Anu screamed, struggling to escape her captor.

Traynar met him, parrying the first blow and twisting away to distance himself. He floated off the ground. Unlike his mate, Traynar had little trouble with fear and anxiety cracking his flying focus. However, the pain from the gash in his middle was such that he couldn’t gain much height. Boroxle, the much larger and powerful fighter, circled the floating Ansheetan. Traynar kept his distance, knowing his opponent would be able to easily overpower him. He’d just have to outmaneuver him.

“Let her go!” Traynar shouted aggressively.

Boroxle smirked, “Try and take her, then.”

The Rogashay swung the spear in a wide arc, narrowly missing the nimble Ansheetan. He spun, leaping and thrusting his weapon. Traynar dodged and circled, trying to stay out of range.

“Ru’tra, tail!” Boroxle shouted.

Traynar didn’t have time to duck when the sand dragon’s long tail whipped around and swatted him to the ground at Boroxle’s feet. He cried out as his breath was stolen from him and pain sprang across his body.

Boroxle kicked his energy staff away and patted his steed’s scaly side, “Good Ru’tra. Good.”

Anu struggled against the strong hands that held her wrists behind her back, “No! Leave him alone!”

The tall, broad leader Boroxle hauled Traynar to his feet by his plumage and easily slung him before Anu in a heap. Traynar groaned and acted as if to get up again but the beating he’d received prevented such action.

“I’d stay down if I were you, Ansheeta.” Boroxle warned, stepping over him. “Ru’tra hasn’t tasted Ansheetan for many years. I’m sure he’d enjoy a treat.”

“NO!” Anu screamed frantically.

Boroxle looked at her knowingly, “This is your mate isn’t it?”

Anu didn’t respond but the earlier concern she’d shown was all Boroxle needed to confirm his guess. Anu hissed at him angrily flaring her plumage.

Boroxle smirked, “Doesn’t matter. You’re perfect.”

Anu looked up at him, “What? What do you mean? What do you want?”

He smiled and explained, “Want? Why, what every living being wants: to be secure, safe, and have enough resources to survive. Something you Ansheeta know so well.” He knelt down to be eye level with her and gestured to the forest around them, “This forest belongs to you Ansheeta and that is something we would like to change.”

Anu shook her head, “What does that have to do with us? We don’t hold any power in Anashee.”

He tapped her forehead with emphasis, “Oh but you do. You, my dear, are our ticket to get us into Anashee. It’s exceptionally rare if we ever capture one of your kind alive, much less a pair of the flying scouts. I’m sure your people would do almost anything to get you back safely...perhaps even surrender the whole city to us?”

Anu shook her head in protest and struggled against the Rogashay subduing her, “No! You can’t do this!”

The end of Boroxle’s energy spear flipped gently under her chin as he spoke, “I’m sure I can.” His eyes became hard, “Just hearing it come out of your Ansheetan mouth makes me want to.”

It was then a very loud snap echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of the vegetation being disturbed. The bandits as well as their sand dragons stared in the direction of the sudden sound. Another series of loud snaps; trees bending. The sand dragons snorted and began to shake their heavy frilled heads, something they rarely did unless perturbed.

Boroxle stood up and took the reins of his sand dragon to try and calm him, “Easy Ru’tra. Easy.”

“What is that?” one of the Rogashay asked from atop his sand dragon.

Suddenly, like a roll of thunder, a huge voice shook the air, “Pixie?...Pixie where are you?”

...

That same moment...

Merco awoke sometime during the early hours of the next morning with a parched throat. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept but somehow, he felt like it had been weeks. With groggy movements he sat up to go to the water. His head hurt ...but considerably less so. The horrid pounding had dulled and was replaced with the burning of a cut and pulse of a bruise. He gingerly touched the wound and felt something odd. Not a scab, but something covering the gash. His fingers brushed the substance and he observed it. Green...but not an infected piece of him. Like...a plant of some kind?

How did a plant get in his wound?

He smelled it and it gave off an alien odor, but not one of unpleasantness. A scent like fresh cut grass and cilantro, but with a medicine high note.

He crawled to the water and drank but also gazed at his reflection. The image wasn’t tremendously clear, but it looked like his gash had filled with the plant material. Was it an alien moss? Horrible scenarios of the plant taking root in his skull and eventually killing him by way of invading his brain played in his mind. But...it didn’t seem that way now that he looked at the plant matter on his fingertip. It looked crushed.

A poultice of some kind? But who applied it?

As he pondered he suddenly remembered his tiny companion. Absently, he patted his pocket, expecting to feel Pixie sitting inside. But no tiny lump presented itself. His hand patted quickly across his chest like a man searching for his keys. He opened the top of his shirt pocket and visually confirmed it.

Pixie was gone.

“Pixie?” he rasped.

His eyes, still bleary with weariness, began to dart with panic. He looked around himself, careful not to make any sudden movements.

Where was she? Had she fallen out? Had...had he accidentally smashed her? How long was he unconscious?

“Pixie? Pixie where are you?” he called.

No answer or any indication that she was nearby. Merco felt a twinge of panic. He felt personally responsible for the tiny humanoid and somehow he’d lost her. Still feeling peaked he shakily pulled his legs underneath him to stand. Though not feeling as terrible as he did the day before, he didn’t feel one hundred percent either. He stood up slowly, allowing his senses to adjust. His eyes swept the area around him for any sign of Pixie. Part of him was relieved to not replace her as scenarios of an accidental squishing flashed gorily in his mind.

How could he live with himself if he did that?

He slowly moved away from the lake, eyes scanning every inch below him. Somehow he heard what he thought was a voice not too far away.

“Pixie? Pixie?” he called again walking in that direction.

...

The Rogashay jumped visibly and their steeds began making whines of distress when a series of rhythmic quakes vibrated the ground around them.

Upon hearing the rumbling voice rolling through the trees, Anu made a brash decision; one she hoped would save her and Traynar from this predicament.

At the top of her voice she suddenly screamed, “MERCO! MERCO HELP!”

The Rogashay holding her immediately slapped a hand over her mouth to silence her. She tried to scream anyway.

Two distinct tremors vibrated through the ground. Trees groaned and branches snapped in a cacophony of sound. Finally, the sand dragons lost their nerve, squealed, and began to bolt in all directions. Boroxle and the bandit holding Anu could only watch as their sand dragons wheeled and bolted away from them. The others rode their mounts wherever fear sent them.

“Pixie?” the tremendous voice rumbled through the air again, followed by rhythmic slow tremors.

Boroxle handled his energy staff which immediately cycled into a crackling spear head. He stared out into the forest and suddenly spotted an impossibly big silhouette sweeping through the trees. A tremor and the silhouette stopped. Then he saw a second silhouette speed past the first and stop just ahead of it. Another tremor.

Boroxle’s yellow green eyes widened considerably when he realized what he was seeing. Two feet, two legs, striding through the forest. He looked up but they were so close to the tree line that the trees blocked his view.

“What in the great wasteland...?” he hissed in a hushed tone.

“Pixie? Pixie where are you?” the voice boomed again, closer now.

Boroxle motioned to his comrade to hide behind the nearest tree with their other captive. Whatever was coming was something neither of them had ever seen before and it sounded enormous. Was the Ansheetan female actually telling the truth earlier?

Anu struggled but her burly captor held her easily as he ducked behind a tree, pressing her face forward into its trunk. Her eyes glanced over and saw Traynar abandoned in the open.

She made muffled noises of protest until his hand painfully squeezed her jaw, “Shut up Ansheeta!” he growled the threat. “Keep quiet.”

The tremors grew more intense as the gigantic being drew closer. It was about two hundred yards away when it stopped.

“Pixie? Pixie you’ve got to answer me. I can’t see you,” the voice rumbled in a concerned sounding tone.

Silence reigned as the giant being listened. Boroxle peeked out minutely from the tree, energy spear grasped between his hard hands. Two black boots of impossible size stood poised through the trees. Curiosity pushed the Rogashay leader to look further up. His eyes made it to the underside of the towering creature’s hairy chin before it moved, and he ducked behind the tree again. It stepped to their right slowly and then again. It was moving away from them. Boroxle motioned with his head and he and his companion shifted around their trees, keeping their position hidden from the giant as it moved away.

Anu could see Merco begin to go another direction and panic flooded her. If he didn’t hear her these Rog Bandits would use her as a hostage and do untold actions against her people. With a desperate move she went limp, pretending to pass out. The bandit restraining her lessened his grip from her mouth. His face seemed shocked, perhaps believing he’d suffocated her. Boroxle pinned him with an intense stare as if to ask what had happened.

At that moment Anu seized her chance and screamed as loud as she could, “MERCO!”

Reacting instantly the bandit struck her, knocking her out. But it was too late. Boroxle’s face shifted to that of horror when the boots stopped abruptly and turned back in their direction.

“Pixie?”

It was in the moment that Boroxle came to a realization: the Ansheeta had just called this giant creature and it called back...they knew each other.

He swore silently as the impossibly heavy footfalls strode closer, putting them mere yards from their hiding places. The Rogashay held perfectly still in silent dread until the massive being knelt down nearby, shadow eclipsing the area. Boroxle grit his dental ridge, stealing a second peek. The giant being was on one knee and had subsequently found the male Ansheetan. The giant’s enormous hand descended upon the Ansheetan and plucked him up.

Suddenly, his Rogashay partner couldn’t stand it any longer and took off running at full speed, leaving the unconscious female behind. The giant’s head turned toward the movement and seemed to be watching his fleeing partner with large grayish green eyes. Boroxle knew it was completely insane, but he needed the Ansheetan hostage if his plans were ever going to work. With the giant’s attention distracted, Boroxle darted toward the female hostage, effortlessly slung her over his other shoulder, and ran in the opposite direction. He ran as fast as he could not pausing to make sure he had been seen. Several long seconds passed, and he didn’t hear anything.

Had he gotten away with it? Had it not seen him?

SNAP! CRASH!

No...

Trees snapped deafeningly behind him and the first quaking footfall hit the ground. Boroxle couldn’t run any faster but he changed direction, darting in a serpentine fashion. The trees were slowing the giant down...but not enough. His keen eyes caught sight of a small cluster of rock through the trees and he angled for it, keeping up his serpentine path. The tremendous footfalls grew louder still, shaking the ground beneath his fleeing feet. At last he made it to the rocks and immediately saw a small space between them just big enough for him to slide into. He pulled the Ansheetan from his shoulder, held her to his chest, ducked, and slid into the space, gasping for breath.

For several seconds he crouched down in the tight space, listening. He couldn’t hear the giant’s footfalls, but he could hear the ominous sound of its breathing high above. A shadow blacked out the sun above. Before Boroxle would react the rock in front of him pulled back with a loud, grinding crunch and rose weightless into the air. Dust and gravel rained down around him. Boroxle looked up and gasped upon seeing the giant holding the huge bolder in one hand before tossing it aside. Boroxle tried to run to his left but the giant’s boot crashed in front of him. He wheeled right only to be met by the second boot. Nowhere to run, his back pressed against the remaining rock and he whipped out his energy staff again, cycling it to a broad-head spear. Defensively he thrust it up as the giant slowly knelt, looming over him. Though alien, the giant’s expression seemed to convey an anger or something of equal menace when he gazed upon the unconscious prisoner in his arms.

“What have you done to her?” his powerful voice growled.

Boroxle couldn’t understand his words but the booming tone sounded angry. He tensed, not lowering his spear a fraction.

Quite abruptly, the giant’s gloved left hand shot toward him, palm up. Boroxle readied himself but the hand stopped just short of his spear tip.

“Give her to me...NOW.” The giant’s voice rolled over him with vibrating menace.

Boroxle watched as the giant’s other hand pointed forcefully to the Ansheetan and then to his open hand. He noted that the male Ansheeta the giant had picked up was no longer in either of his hands.

Had...had he eaten him?

Again, the giant repeated the gesture. He wanted the female. But what would happen once he had her? Boroxle was torn to decide. Would this monster kill him the moment he had her? The Rogashay leader decided it would be safer for him to hang on to the Ansheetan than open himself up to a vengeful squishing. He gambled this huge being would be less likely to harm him with the Ansheetan female in his arms. After all, she had called him so there must be some sort of bond. Crouching lower with his spear up, he gestured for the giant to back away.

The giant’s gloved hand flipped over suddenly, fingers flared at him. Boroxle reacted, slashing his blue energy spear in a wide ferocious arc. The crackling blade opened the black material of the glove but stopped when it struck the finger underneath. Boroxle’s arm vibrated painfully. Whatever he struck wasn’t forgiving like flesh. It was worse that the giant gave no reaction of pain. With little more effort than a pinch, the gloved fingers came together on the staff of his spear, holding it immobile. Boroxle jerked as hard as he could but felt like he’d wrenched his arm out of the socket when the spear didn’t budge.

“Brave little bastard aren’t ya?” the giant being spoke in his alien language as he effortlessly tugged the spear from his grasp.

Boroxle didn’t even see the other hand when it swooped in and a single sharp tap from the giant’s index finger knocked him unconscious.