Call of the Watch Crow, Part-3

Recap: The terrible war between The Consortium and the Black Sun Empire continues to rage unceasingly, high above V’Lusia. Masked by the chaos, the V’Lusian government is toppled by a barbaric enemy; resultantly, its slave armies scatter across the land. The violence escalates as a mysterious conspiracy is enacted, coordinated by an unknown agency using cybernetic implants to drive additional insurgency.

Kall-Ku, a mercenary-slave,  barely escaped an ambush from lethal Piranha Women only to find himself in danger of developing a mortal infection from the terrible bite wounds inflicted to the back of his neck and shoulders. Now he is faced with the possibility of dangerous, nocturnal predators in the irradiated swamp. Should they sense his fetid flesh, they would certainly hunt him in the darkness
.

He struggles to follow the insistent urgings of a cybernetic chip that was injected into his shoulder by the mysterious, Elana, driving him to join a battle for human liberty and personal dignity.

 In the darkness things are unwell.

“Damn you all. I don’t care what happens to any of you; it’s everyone for themselves!” Commander Coa ducked out of the command tent with a security box tucked under his arm, a power sword humming in his hand and ran towards a hover truck, which sprung to life as he approached.

Kall-Ku watched from in front of the tent, shocked at the flight of a man that he has only known as “master.” Never did Coa seem so small or so vulnerable, as he did this morning.

A frantic group of Mercenary-Slaves caught their former commander and dragged the cowardly V’Lusian away from the truck. Irreverent of rank and file and fearless of the power sword in their Master’s hand, the crowd swallowed him beneath their number. His screams of surprised rage quickly turned to horror and fearful mewing, until even that pathetic sound disappeared beneath the din of violence.

“Hurry, Kall-Ku, you must keep moving.”  Insisted Elana, beckoning him with waving hands. She stood at the edge of the war-camp. “This is your time. V’Lusia is falling. Even now, the Call of the Watch Crow heralds the end.”

Call of the Watch Crow, a secret signal igniting a planetary revolution. He stumbled toward his mysterious benefactor. His feet drug heavily, like iron, as he struggled towards her; each movement was a labor.

“Hurry Kall-Ku, you must keep moving, it is not safe here.” Her voice was even, but insistent.

As he reached her, he put his hand on her shoulder to prevent himself from falling forward. Resting his forehead atop his hand, the grizzled warrior thought for a moment that things seemed wrong.

[HURRY KALL-KU, YOU MUST KEEP MOVING, IT’S NOT SAFE HERE]It was not her voice, but rather the subdermal chip, sending messages directly to his brain. Elana was nowhere around. It was all in his mind—a memory superimposing itself across  reality; the infection had set in. He focused and climbed slowly out of the mental quagmire. 

[IT’S NOT SAFE HERE.] He was leaning against a cool metal wall of some sort. Sweat clung to him and dripped from his face. Shivers shook his body—the deadly chill was from inside. Forcing his eyes to comply, he saw cold sweat trailing in runnels down the gray metal surface, emanating from his forehead. Rolling his head left and right, he glimpsed the world around him.

Standing in sludge nearly up to his knees, he was in a strange place. Encroaching from both sides, there were twisted plants—dark and sick—infected by the rot and toxin of the dismal bog. Coiled thorn-vines hung from gnarled limbs. Gelatinous ooze clung to seemingly everything. It was not the foot trail he followed earlier—that was gone.  Ignorant of how he came to be so deep inside the dismal bog, he did not have any idea how long he had been wandering in a delirious fantasy.  All that was clear was that it was nighttime. He had only dreamt the sun.

[IT’S NOT SAFE HERE. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.] He spun, pressing his back against the slimy wall. He didn’t have to search long; the danger was apparent. A hulking, swamp brute had stalked up behind him, only a shadow length away. It was a time and a half his size, with bulbous, black eyes, staring hungrily at him, framed in a scarred, wrinkly mask of green leather. Its wide, crooked maw dripped with saliva, each tooth the size of a man’s thumb. Black fur and grotesque, thorns covered its bipedal form, as if it sprang to life from the mossy sludge, itself. Its arms were as thick as a man’s waste; clawed hands, reached apishly to the ground, aiding in its menace. It was still when he turned, poised to spring, daring the warrior to make the next move. The moment portended merciless violence and sudden gore.   It sensed his sickness, seeing only food, an end to an easy hunt.

Kall-Ku’s hands were empty. The experienced warrior froze, remaining perfectly still; any movement towards his axe or hammer would trigger the attack; the smallest step in any direction would result in the same. An instant more or less wouldn’t make any difference. The mercenary was in no shape to put up much of a struggle.

The beast eased forward slightly sensing Kall-ku’s weakness, testing the warrior’s resolve. There was a rush of movement, black fur and gnashing of teeth, ripping flesh, painful screeches, and howls of fury.

The swamp beast was tackled sideways, away from Kall-ku by a large, black dog with a whipping tail, its tip ending in a venom-filled telson and deadly aculeus. The knife-like stinger plunged into the brute again and again as it fell sideways. The black dog held the brute with a powerful bite, keeping the thing’s powerful, flailing limbs angled safely away while the hungry swamp predator succumbed to the venom.

Surprised to be alive, Kall-Ku watched as the black dog let go of the beast, looking back at him. It was the War Shuck that he saw previously. It seemed calm, savoring its triumph. Lying down across the barrel chested corpse, it watched the Mercenery-Slave quizzically.

Kall-Ku breathed out slowly—a cautious sigh of relief. War Shucks were genetically engineered to serve the armies of V’Lusian slaves. He had never worked with the War Shuck’s before, but somehow this creature recognized him as an ally.    

“I don’t understand exactly, but thank you.” Kall-Ku stepped away from the metal surface, aware that the Shuck’s gaze followed him.

[WAR SHUCKS ARE TRAINED TO RESPOND PROTECTIVLY TO V’LUSIAN SLAVE TATTOOS]

“Why do you speak to me now?”  It felt strange addressing the subdermal chip, nestled deep in his shoulder, like an alien bug.

[I CANNOT ADEQUATELY ADDRESS YOUR QUERY, BUT SUFFICE TO SAY THAT IT TOOK SOME TIME TO ESTABLISH A SECURE CONNECTION.]

Sighing, Kall-Ku  shook his head. Yes, he thought, that did seem inadequate He turned back to the barrier standing behind him, feeling tiny beneath the heavy shadow of an immense, armored hover craft. It sat, partially sunk in the mud, like a long dead primordial god. Its heavy armor plates were riddled with blaster scarring, dents and cracks, the main cannon reaching up and out like the rigid limb of a fossilized corpse. Hover pods were visible on only one side, the other side was sunk beneath the muck.
Kall-Ku doubled over, spitting his sick into the swamp. He imagined the infection crawling through him, poisoning his blood, and turning his organs into a sour paste. The massive assault craft may have medical supplies inside. It was his only hope—otherwise it would be his tomb. He began to climb.  

[End of part three…look for part four, next week]

*** Have not read part 1. Here it is again. https://scaldcrow.com/?p=655(opens in a new tab)
*** Have not read part 2. Here it is again. https://scaldcrow.com/?p=816(opens in a new tab)