Fear

For a moment, as he plunged his cutlass through the neck of the screeching ursa, Cypher Raige thought about fear.

Not in any immediate sense. Fear was a choice, and one he had chosen not to make. If he felt fear, the ursa would see him, and he wouldn't have to worry about fear anymore, because he'd be dead. No. Fear, as in a much more abstract, distant concept. Watching the ursa bleed out on the sands of Nova Prime before him, he wondered if the creature felt fear. If it felt fear in the same way. There was every indication that ursas weren't natural creatures, that they'd been developed or at least altered by the skrel, For all their strengths, they had weaknesses, among them being the lack of any sight as a human would understand it. So could the ursas feel fear? Or had that been removed?

He shook his head and withdrew the cutlass from the creature's neck. He was drifting. The battle was over, yes, but this wasn't the time to remove himself for it. Some of the ursa were still alive, albeit being put down by the Rangers. And many of his fellow rangers had been injured. Some had even been killed. Tonight, wives, husbands, and children across Nova Prime would hear news that their loved ones had departed and cope as best they were able. So far, his family hadn't had to worry about that. When...if, they did, then, well, Faia was strong. Senshi was strong. Kitai was-

"Fucking animals."

His lips twitched as he almost smiled. Almost, because it didn't become him. Almost, because it wasn't that funny. Almost, because watching Ranger Kallus plunge his cutlass into the ursa's belly, he knew that this wasn't from any kind of tactical maneuver, but a raw desire for vengeance. The desire that had to be controlled like any fire, lest it set the one who possessed it alight. So to that end, he put a hand on Kallus's shoulder.

"It's dead, ranger."

Kallus stopped plunging his blade into the beast, and after a moment, looked at Cypher. His eyes were wide. His shadows were long. His cutlass and uniform were dripping with blood, and on the latter, not all of it was his own.

"Yes sir. Of course sir. Completely dead sir."

At least the ursa was. He could hear the moaning of the dying, as their bodies lay under the heat of two suns. Some of them would be saved today. Some wouldn't. Taking stock of the situation, he activated his earpiece.

"General Raige to Ranger Command. All hostiles neutralized."

"Affirmative."

"Sit-rep on the skrel?"

"Bugged out. The F.E.N.I.X. SAMs did their job."

Cypher allowed himself a small smile. Good.

"What about your unit? Casualties?"

The smile faded as Cypher looked around. "Too many."

Command didn't say anything.

It didn't have to.

Too many casualties, as of five minutes and nine seconds later, consisted of 19 dead rangers, 6 critically injured ones, and 2 rangers with minor injuries. It was the inverse of what one would expect from human warfare, where as paradoxical as it might sound, it was often better to wound one's enemy than kill them. But then, the skrel weren't human, as far as Cypher could tell. And the ursa certainly weren't. The ursa would attack, and not stop attacking until their prey was defeated. Animals? Yes. But animals with an aggression that appeared unnatural for any creature that had evolved in a natural ecosystem. All the more reason to suspect that the ursa weren't natural. And that if they were, whatever planet the skrel had encountered them on, it wasn't a place that humans wanted to go.

Five minutes and ten seconds after his liaison with Command, Cypher watched as the first med-evacs touched down. By the time the twin suns set, more rangers would depart to meet their maker. And he would be one step closer to ending this life.

"General?"

He could feel it in his bones. The ache. He could steel his mind, control his heart, choose not to fear and not to grieve, but emotional fortitude couldn't protect his body from the march of time. One day, eventually, Cypher Raige would retire from the United Ranger Corps, and in turn, the land of the living.

"General?"

But not today. Today, Kallus was talking to him. Looking better for wear than he'd been six minutes ago. His breathing was steadier, his eyes less wide, his cutlass sheathed. Unscarred in body, if not in mind.

"Need some water?"

He shook his head. He could tell that Kallus wanted to discuss matters other than hydration, and he was willing to indulge the man. For now at least. He watched as Kallus unscrewed his flask and poured the water down his throat, much of it dropping upon the sands beneath them.

"You can't water a desert, ranger."

Kallus slowly lowered the flask from his mouth, and just as slowly attached it to his belt. "Just needed water, sir." He scoffed. "Blood. Water. Two go hand in hand, don't they?"

Cypher remained silent. He watched as Kallus looked up at the sky, a shade of orange as the suns set.

"Think they'll be back?" Kallus asked. He looked at Cypher. "The skrel I mean."

"Centuries of prior contact suggest that's likely."

"Right. Likely." Kallus kicked some of the sand beneath them. "Ask me, we should find their homeworld and-"

"No-one did ask you."

Kallus fell silent, and after a glance at Cypher, lowered his gaze. "Of course general. I'm sorry."

Cypher knew that the conversation could have ended there. He'd had sixty rangers under his command today, and he didn't have time to tend to all of them. But, as he walked across the sands, taking note of the dead and dying, he let Kallus follow him. Even if, he reflected, it was arguably as much for his own sake than his.

"They can still get past the defence network," Cypher murmured. "The F.E.N.I.X. does its job to point, but..."

"But?"

"But the results of the skrel's intrusions speak for themselves."

"Maybe." Kallus glanced at a ranger. One lying in a pool of her own blood, her intestines sprawling out on the sand, somehow still alive, with the medics refusing to put her out of her misery. "Dead can't speak though, general."

Cypher didn't contest the point.

"But it makes no sense. Skrel keep coming, but they never land on the planet. They deposit ursas, let them kill some of us, then bug out. Like, are they cowards or something? Too afraid of an old-fashioned fight?"

Cypher remained silent. Kallus was asking the question that generations of Novans had asked, and he didn't have an answer for him.

The skrel had attacked Nova Prime for centuries. Almost always with the same tactic. For centuries they'd tried, for centuries they'd failed. Cypher understood astrophysics well enough to appreciate that if the skrel wanted to wipe out humanity on this world, a single bolide that was large and/or fast enough would do the job. Only they hadn't done that, which might suggest that they wanted Nova Prime for themselves, and didn't want to trigger a mass extinction in the process. But making creatures that were blind? It didn't make sense. Unless, as some theorized, the skrel didn't even see, but operated through some unknown means, but the Ranger Corps had never obtained a corpse to validate that theory. All attempts at communication had failed, but even then, none could tell if the skrel weren't answering, or couldn't even 'hear' humanity.

But were they cowards? Cypher couldn't say. But he could tell that Kallus was waiting for an answer. For anything. For the Original Ghost to impart words of wisdom. So, choosing them carefully, he gave his answer.

"The skrel might be cowards," he murmured. "But we're not. This? This is bravery. And we're not skrel."

Kallus didn't say anything. Maybe he'd had a satisfactory answer. Maybe not. Regardless, Cypher couldn't say, and he didn't have the time for it either.

Not now, as the number of dead reached 20.