Star Valor

Caleb led the Israelis towards the fallen object, leaving the repaired tracker and the dunes far behind. Their orange halogen lamps did little to rob the night sky of its eerie beauty. The stars shone nearly as brightly as they did from a vantage point in s pace. Mars's two moons, Deimos and Phobos, were up from their daytime slumber. Deimos appeared as Venus, maybe a little brighter. Phobos was a little smaller than Earth's moon, but someone had taken a hammer and chisel to it, banged the once-perfect sphere into an irregular lump of coal, then dug out long, parallel grooves as if in preparation for canals.

As the team hiked around the volcano, the plains gave way to the lazy rises and falls of the hardened lava flows. Jagged boulders sometimes obstructed their path, then became more frequent the farther they trekked.

Caleb grew tired of kicking stones out of his way and decided to simply step on them, despite the fact that he could lose his balance. He forged on, growing weaker.

Then he slipped, caught his balance, lost it, then caught it again. If it wasn't the wind knocking him over.....

"I'll take point for a while," Laura suggested.

He agreed and she crossed in front. He shot a look back to Abebaw. "How are we doing back there?"

"If one likes rocks, fine," Abebaw moaned.

They came upon a small but steep hill that Stewart guessed concealed a valley beyond, a valley in which the object had presumably made impact. Above the crest of the hill, he spotted a mysterious orange glow that, from this angle, seemed to be emanating from the rock itself.

He grabbed Laura's shoulder. "You see that?"

"Yeah, come on," she said excitedly, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

"You'd better...."

"You cover me," she said.

Throwing her hands forward to help her keep balance, Laura climbed the steep hill. Caleb followed and found it increasingly tough to keep up with her as he held his rifle.

She dropped to her chest just before the peak, then slid forward to peer stealthily over the other side. "Holy shit...."

"What? What?" Caleb picked up his pace, and after an eternity plus thirty seconds, lowered to all fours and crawled beside her.

The hill dead-ended in a nightmare cliff that would kill anyone who went over it, even in Martian gravity.

But that wasn't what Laura had commented on, nor was it the reason Caleb's mouth dried up.

Littered with boulders, the valley was a natural maze of rocks that had a trench newly dug into it. At the far end of the trench lay a gold metallic craft, partially masked by two boulders and veiled in its own smoldering. He heard Laura click her night vision face shield into place and he did likewise. Night became a green day, but the craft remained a mystery.

"Is it a Mars orbiter?" Laura asked.

By now, the rest of the Israelis were spreading out along the crest of the hill, crawling on their bellies as if under concertina wire.

Abebaw dropped his NV shield over his eyes. "Maybe it's a classified recon ship."

"Yeah," Spitzer agreed. "Something to do with the war."

"Cross, Waxman, Counter, and me. The rest of you provide cover."

Berkson, who had assumed a position next to Laura, nudged her. "You want me to recon?"

"No, stay here. Just in case something happens."

"Will you really trust me?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll have to."

"Thanks," he said, shocking Caleb with the level of sincerity in his voice. He edged backwards on his hands and knees.

Laura, Counter, and Cross followed Caleb around the north side of the hill and into the valley. The beams of their lamps sliced into a fog that prowled at their knees and mixed with the fumes of the wreckage. Caleb's breath was so labored that he feared he'd short out his suit's exhaust system. The resultant breaths of the others created an unsettling, odd metronome that marked the seconds as they drew ever closer to the craft.

"Radiation levels?"

Counter, who'd taken Spitzer's directional Geiger Counter, consulted a gauge on the instrument. "Let's just say we're not staying too long."

Caleb tossed a glance back at the hill, spotting the heads of Berkson and the others. They readied their N-601S, throwing their weight from elbow to elbow.

He moved around a boulder that stood some three meters taller than himself and froze as the craft came into full view, just a dozen or so meters away.

It was a crescent-shaped vessel with wings stylized to look like that of a bird. Like the wings of a hawk or eagle, they curved downward and made their tips the lowest point of the vessel. The sleek design alone suggested capability of both atmospheric and spaceflight. It had no identification markings and its right wing had been torn to shreds by either laser fire or boulders, the latter seeming more likely since there weren't any scorch-marks on the ship's hull. The nose of the craft was buried in the soil, but there was a hump in a likely place for a cockpit.

Caleb edged forward, his light and the lights of the others crisscrossing over the craft. Chic-chic. He locked his rifle. Counter crossed in front of him. "Hey," Caleb said, "What're you...."

"I'm taking point, Waxman. Relax. We're a team, in case you've forgotten."

"Yeah," Caleb muttered. "Just stay close. And wired."

"Close-and-wired. Roger."

Counter moved to the left side of the craft where a half-open canopy invited entrance.

Cross, her gait stiff, her head sweeping from side to side, let her rifle lead the way to Counter. "I say, what the deuce is it?"

"Looks like it's open," Counter said. "I'm making out electronics, a console with a red trac-ball in the middle." Counter used the barrel of his rifle to shove the canopy back....

......something fell towards him!

"Yaaahhhhh!"

Counter drew back as it fell to the rocky surface. A yellow light flashed on the Israeli's suit: his Urine and Fecal Collection Device was full. He sighed, his cheeks turning beet-red.

Caleb grimaced as his light illuminated a humanoid body lying on its side. It was a shade of gold that Caleb speculated was not its natural color, clearly covered by armor, like a knight or samurai. The muscularity of the creature was clearly heightened by this stuff; it was hard to tell just what the armor was made of, solid gold, or some strange material unknown to Earth science. Some sort of helmet in the shape of a bird head with a sharp beak covered its face. It's hands, five-fingered like a human's were covered by thick metal gauntlets and it likely wore boots, which would account for the smoothness of its feet. The being's chest, despite being heavily armored, was clearly slick with a viscous scarlet liquid that was----blood?

Caleb voiced his thoughts and fears. "It.....looks like it walked out the pages of Chariots of the Gods? And.....and I'll be damned if I know if this thing is......or was...alive!"

THE-WHUP-THE-WHUP-WHUP!

"What the....."

Something came from the left and sprayed across Caleb's face plate. He cocked his head and saw Counter falling onto his back, intestines and pink viscera spilling from a gaping hole in the Israeli's abdomen.

"Counter!" Cross screamed.

"Waxman! Report!" Berkson demanded.

Caleb hit the deck as Cross seized the now inert Counter, lifted the Israeli over her shoulder and took off. Caleb crawled to the ship, put his back to it, then, with Laura at his side, unleashed a volley of unforgiving N-601 phaser fire.

"Got me a sniper, Berkson! Somewhere northeast!"

At that, fireworks, fueled by six Israeli phaser rifles, lit up the sky, bolts of energy razoring down and blanketing the probable position of the sniper.

They darted towards the path they had originally followed into the valley, a path marked by the tallest boulder and a few remaining boot prints. They ran stooped, to avoid the freeway of phaser fire a scant quarter-meter above them. But then she stumbled and fell sideways. Her rebreather tube got caught on the base of a knee-high rock and was ripped from her suit. Pressure escaped in a sickening hiss that Caleb heard despite the symphony of weapons fire. Then a more horrifying sound rose above it all: her scream.

A ball of energy pulverized a rock face behind her. Then another came. Still another. Blue energy flickered, and lightning-like threads splayed across the stones like varicose veins. In the eerie light, Caleb began choking.

Caleb tried to reattach Laura' tube, but the coupling had been ripped so badly that a tight seal was not possible. He shut down her oxygen flow, then held his breath, threw two sealing latches, and removed his own rebreather tube. He flipped up Laura's visor and stuffed the tube into her mouth. "Breathe," he managed to order.

After drawing in a long breath, trailed by several short, fast ones, Laura cried, "Can't stay here!"

Caleb threw up his own visor and nodded. He helped her to her feet. Arm in arm, sharing a single lifeline, they moved out, threading from boulder to boulder, pausing behind each to switch the tube.

They spotted Cross as they neared the valley's edge. The woman, still with Counter over her shoulder, regarded them with a face creased with caution. "Move out!"

Not about to protest, they arced around the side of the hill and began their ascent.

Once on the summit, Cross lowered Counter to the ground. Batra and Ramin quickly attended to Laura. They patched her rebreather with sealant tape from Ramin's pack, then repressurized her suit. Meanwhile, Caleb reattached his own tube and thumbed the auto-pressurize button.

He looked at Cross, who was now on her knees, weeping softly. "Counter....is dead."

Caleb felt the world begin to spin, and he fell onto his back. Hands not his own began to fumble with his suit's control panel. He saw Spitzer's face flash, then Abebaw's, then a bright light. He shut his eyes.

"He's not pressurized," Abebaw said.

A familiar and wonderful sound started: Hissssssssss. The air actually smelled sweet. He sat up, concentrating on his breathing. He found the rest of the Israelis huddled around him, their gazes sweeping the landscape, their weapons at the ready. Laura, still a sickly shade of violet, smiled wanly. Over her shoulder, Caleb saw Counter's body. He shivered and gritted his teeth.

"We got a casualty. We're low on air. Whatta we do now?" Batra asked.

"I say we go down there and hunt that mother. We're Israeli soldiers," Spitzer said, then eyed Counter. "Time to kick ass."

"No. We spread out and wait for it," Laura said.

"For how long? We don't have time to wait for it," Berkson argued. "Spitzer's right. Counter is dead. Based on the fire I saw, there's only one of them."

"Yeah. That makes it nine against one," Spitzer said.

"But if it corners one of us...." Cross started. "Caleb, you think one of us could...."

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I say we strap on our NVSs and assume positions. We'll give this bastard about ten minutes. Then we gotta split."

Laura appeared to agree with his plan. She didn't nod, but she didn't leer at him either.

"No matter what we do. I say we call for an immediate EVAC," Jacobs suggested.

"And do what, screw up the whole mission?" Berkson asked incredulously. "Counter would've wanted us to stick together and finish the mission like Israeli soldiers. He wanted to fly more than any of us. He'll never get that chance. And neither will we if we don't finish this on our own. No EVAC. Let's go hunting." Berkson stood.

Cross, Spitzer, Abebaw, Batra and Rimal joined him.

Spitzer shook her lower lip and shook her head.

Caleb thrust a hand towards Batra, who helped him up. "Abebaw, Spitzer, take west side. Jacobs, assume a position behind that"----Caleb pointed---"see it? See it over there? That long, fat boulder."

"I'm already there," Abebaw replied curtly, then he and Spitzer jogged off.

"Cross and Batra, east side. Back on the path. Now swing really east and we might be able to drive the sucker back towards its ship.

"Where we'll show it a little good, old-fashioned Jewish vengeance," Batra said before leaving.

Caleb looked to Berkson. "We're gonna be the hornets, and this summit's our nest."

Berkson struck up a thumb. "What side do you want?"

"East," Caleb said.

"I need Rimal," Cross said, trying to get up on her own but failing miserably. "I have a job for her." She faced the Israeli. "I want you to see if you can convert the SIR into a thermal imager."

Rimal nodded, already understanding. "I think we can. There's an uplink code to break, but I don't think it'll be too hard."

Caleb smiled. "We get an image on that thing...."

"Don't get too excited. It might have an imager of its own and is---at this moment---tracking us," Laura said. "Now, where do you want me?"

"Here. Stick with Rimal. At least until you feel better."

"I'm fine. A little groggy, maybe."

"You were violet, now you're somewhere on the light green side," he said.

Before heading for his position, Caleb took one final look at Counter's corpse. The wind rippled across Counter's flight suit. The red mass, where his chest had previously been, was now covered with a fine layer of dust.

At his self-appointed post, Caleb dug out his Night Vision Sight and clipped it onto his rifle. He squinted at the small screen, trying to pull a glimpse of the alien from the red-tinted terrain. He was already anxious, and in his mind's eye Counter's murder was looped into an endless rerun of carnage. His visor and suit were still smudged with Counter's blood.

You're not dealing with feeble humans. You're dealing with Israelis. We're weapons, focused and full of purpose.

The wind got stronger, the dust turning points of clarity into opaque blurs. He cursed under his breath as he scanned the valley through his NVS.

Then, in the shadows near covering boulders.....movement.

He should alert the others so that they could drive the alien---as planned----into a position where it would be somewhat cornered, either near its ship or against the cliff side. But his passion for revenge had coalesced into a rabid beast that had to be fed.

They might've killed Zara! They killed Counter!

He jogged around the hill, booting up sand and sliding over rocks as he descended into the valley.

Rimal's voice came through his link. "Waxman is solo."

"Dammit! What the hell is he doing?" Laura asked. "Caleb! What's up? Caleb! Report!"

Ignoring her, visualizing himself as a nuclear-tipped rocket on a heat-seeking course for the alien. Caleb raised his rifle and sprinted to a boulder. He ducked behind the stone, polished it with his shoulders as he paused a moment to catch his breath. He rolled a dial on his suit's main control pane, dimming the readouts.

"Abebaw? Spitzer?"

"Yeah, we've been listening. Moving east to intercept."

"And I'm with you," Laura said.

"Batra and I are closing in, too," Cross added.

Caleb didn't exactly resent their help, but neither did he think he needed it. As far as Lauar was concerned, he should've figured that there would be no holding her down.

He crept to the edge of the boulder, stole a glance into the clearing that led to the next jagged rock, saw no sign of movement, then tore off.

At precisely the moment he reached the middle of the clearing, the silhouette of the alien burst from the deeper gloom roughly a dozen meters ahead. The thing, like him, was dodging for rock cover.

Synapses fired, but Caleb's shock had slowed down his reaction. He squeezed the trigger of his N-601. The gun spat three bolts at the alien.

But the creature's speed was astounding. It sheered, rolled, and vanished behind a rock in a single, insectlike maneuver, the bolts blasting apart rock faces in the background of its ghost.

The mistake Caleb made was to linger in the clearing to see if he'd shot the thing. Trouble was, his assailant exploited the delay to release a round, a round accompanied by the now-familiar and gut-wrenching noise that had come one nanosecond before Counter had been blown away.

THE-WHUP-THE-WHUP-WHUP!

Despite the skin of his camouflage suit, despite the pressurization, despite the fact that Caleb was already in the air, having launched himself towards the hemispherical shadow of the boulder, he still caught the light of the alien's round on his periphery----a light brighter than burning magnesium---and he felt its heat----something akin to a supernova---as it grazed his shoulder.

He hit the dirt, knees and elbows first, his rifle jarred from his grip. He scrambled forward, came back up with the weapon, then kept on his haunches, trying to decide how long he'd wait before risking a look.

"You spot that fire?"

"Yeah."

"Now hold until you get a clean shot."

"Abebaw? Circle...."

Caleb switched off his link. No need to be distracted by their skipchatter. If memory served, the thing was about three rocks up, on the left.

If you swing wide and come from behind it....

Abandoning the idea of looking before leaping, Caleb rabbit-ran from boulder to boulder. He didn't stop to check each clearing or catch his breath. Though riding the edge of recklessness, he'd stitch a pattern to his position without (he prayed) the alien knowing until a heartbeat before he shot it into salsa.

1 rock, 2, 3, and arrowing towards the 4th----

THE-WHUP-THE-WHUP-WHUP!

A big chunk of the boulder in front of him erupted with blue webs of energy, then was shaved off to fall into rubble. He swung around to sprint back...

And the alien broke free from a swirling smoke cloud and charged him.

Before he could level his weapon, the abomination dug its gauntleted hands into his chest, then lifted him a half-meter off the surface, then tossed him. Caleb floated like a free-thrown basketball on its way toward an unforgiving stone backboard. When he hit the boulder, the air blasted from his lungs and his neck snapped back so hard that he thought it broke.

As he slid down the rock to land unsteadily on his feet, the creature came at him again, vapors and a low trilling escaping through its bird's-head helmet. It was then that he noticed it was unarmed. Had it run out of ammo? No time to speculate, for the alien, leaning forward, left hand clutching a curved dagger pointed downward, clearly intended to finish off Caleb, shambled within two meters, arguably point-blank range for someone armed with an N-610.

Caleb fired.

And there was the creature on the ground, slithering away from him, unhurt. It had evaded his shot! The only thing damaged were the peaks of a pair of rocks, both now flat and haloed with dust.

He stood rapt as the thing sprang to its feet and ran like a track star from the light to gyrate into a crevice between boulders.

Mustering his remaining strength, Caleb staggered forward, then climbed into the boulders above the crevice, hoping to catch the thing as it emerged from the other side. He found good purchase on a ledge and dragged himself up, the clearing coming into view.

His mouth opened.

With its back to him, the alien knelt in the clearing. Its trembling arms were raised above its head. Caleb tracked the creature's gaze to Laura, Abebaw, Batra, Cross, and Spitzer as the group slowly surrounded the thing. He switched his link, and immediately had to adjust the sensitivity to cut off the panting of the Israelis, who were obviously as scared as their prisoner.

Laura looked at him. "I think it's trying to surrender," she said, her voice cracking.

One shot would finish it. All he had to do was lift his rifle, barely aim and squeeze the trigger. The military biotechs could dissect the corpse at their leisure; they didn't need a live one running around.

He pushed himself a little higher onto the boulder, then lifted his rifle, bringing it to bear on Counter's killer.

Laura turned her gun on him. "Don't even think about it!"

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