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First Contact
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GREAT GESTALT OF THE GREAT LANAKTALLAN PEOPLE

How can it be real?

It makes no sense.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Some say it's the malevolent universe testing us.

Others say it's some kind of Terran super-science project run amock.

We Mantid believe that it's the Malevolent Universe testing us via Terrans. That the Terrans built something that had the 'Law of Unforeseen Consequences' take effect and convert it to this.

It doesn't happen often. Usually once in a while.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

You have to remember, when the Terrans reached a certain level of technology, rather than completely discard their historical cultural myths, they used that technology to make those myths into reality.

Everyone knows that Santa and the Hanukkah Zombie are real, same with Kwanza Bot and the Feast of the Winter Pig Frost Giant.

Sure, there's a couple versions of each. Some crazed Terran, or maybe even a dashingly handsome and cleverly innovative Treana'ad, creates the version of these holiday myths and legends to adapt them to current society. Often, those versions run amok for centuries, maybe even thousands of years.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

RIGELLIAN SAURIAN COMPACT

Trea's not wrong.

Toxis still lurks around our homeworld.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

DIGITAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

How the SkyNet Stole Coding Day is based on a real story.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TELKAN FORGE WORLD

But we don't have any of that. Why pick on him?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

He's famous. He's felt the touch of the Digital Omnimessiah.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

DIGITAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

And he went to where the SUDS is.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

CRUSADE

CEASE YOUR PRATTLING!

THE HEROES JOURNEY IS A PART OF EVERY INTELLIGENT BEING'S DESTINY!

WILL YOU RISE TO THE CHALLENGE OR DIE LIKE A LEMMING?

THE TELKAN HERO FACES KRIS THE KRUSHER KRINGLE WHO HAS FACED DAXIN THE UNFEELING MULTIPLE TIMES! THE MAD TITAN WHO TOOK THE COMBINED MIGHT OF DAXIN THE UNFEELING AND KISS ITSELF TO DEFEAT HIS MAD PLANS THE LAST TIME!

BUT THE FABLED FALLEN LEGEND IS NOT THE REAL THREAT!

WILL THE TELKAN HERO REALIZE HIS TRUE FOE BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LEE>I love this guy.

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AKLTAK SOARING WORLDS

That looks neat.

But for kids? Isn't that dangerous?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Yes.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

ALKTAK SOARING WORLDS

But they could hurt themselves.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Then it will be a good lesson.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

WE NOW RETURN YOU TO OUR HOLIDAY SPECIAL, ALREADY IN PROGESS

Vuxten snarled, triggering another burst from the SMG, holding the weapon steady and slamming the burst of rounds into the chest of the large muscular Terran. The Terran laughed, his slight gut jiggling, as the rounds hit with flashes of gold and silver.

He also shot back with the pistols he held in each hand, his hand somehow returned.

Vuxten staggered back, his armor taking multiple hits, even as his shots went wide.

"I'll teach you to care, boy!" the scarred Terran laughed, stepping forward, still firing the pistols, alternating hands, the heavy slugs slamming into Vuxten's armor and sending him reeling through the snow.

A hit to his hand left Vuxten's whole arm tingling and burning as the weapon spun away.

Snarling, Vuxten yanked free the cutting bar, thumbing it to life, and taking the guard postion.

A tapping sound came from multiple sources around him and Vuxten looked around quickly.

There were young Terran males, dressed in military uniforms, on the sidelines. They all had straps across their chests that held drums. They were tapping the drum, the rhythm steadily picking up speed, many of them with their faces bandaged or their eyes covered with bloody bandages.

"We can go blades, little man," the big Terran said, holstering the pistols.

Vuxten snarled, pushing forward, hoping to catch the Terran unarmed.

The drums kept hammering and out of the corner of his eye Vuxten saw the tall, slender, androgynous Terran with the long spikey white hair watching from the sidelines, the silver eye makeup gleaming in the light of the moon reflected off the snow. He was dressed in finery and held a fan in one hand to shield his lower face.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

CRUSADE>THERE IS YOUR FOE, JANITOR! THE CRAZED ELVEN HIGH LORD!

MANTID>HEY! SPOILERS!

Before Vuxten could do anything beyond register the Terran's existence, he had thrown himself forward, toward the large muscular Terran, the cutting bar held at mid-guard.

Vuxten closed the distance quickly, but not fast enough to keep Kris from pulling a blade free.

Sparks showered across the clearing as Vuxten clashed blades with the Terran, the blade in the Terran's hand blocking the cutting bar even as the Terran's great strength seemed to match Vuxten's power armored boosted strength. Reflexes hammered into him by Lady Keena barely kept him alive as the Terran counter-attacked, coming in fast and hard, slamming aside the cutting bar with a fist or open hand and stabbing, gouging, and slicing into power armor. Vuxten was forced back step by step as the Terran kept up the furious counter-attack.

A backhand from the huge Terran into his visor sent him tumbling backwards. Vuxten let training kick in, rolling him, coming up on his feet.

His visor was starred and cracked. His armor was wailing about multiple armor breaches, and he could feel the sharp pain of stab wounds beneath the cold fire of his nerve grafts.

The Terran grinned, one tooth missing. Blood flowing from several wounds, the cutting bar inflicted wounds seemingly ineffective against the Terran.

Panting, Vuxten backed off slightly, reaching out one hand.

The SMG trembled.

"NO, YOU DON'T, LITTLE MAN!" the Terran roared, suddenly charging forward.

The SMG flew into Vuxten's hand.

The Terran had him by the throat, smashing the grenade launcher and then the rocket launcher with the fist wrapped around the knife hilt.

Vuxten triggered the SMG into the Terran's chest. Blood splattered, steaming in the cold.

The hammering of the drums seemed to consume the entire world.

The Terran threw Vuxten to the ground hard enough that his vision blurred.

"Think that'll stop me, little man?" the Terran rumbled, standing over him.

Vuxten started to push himself up when the Terran's hand wrapped around his neck. The armor crunched and Vuxten gagged and choked at the pressure on his neck, the fingers seeming to find the exact spots to crush armor against muscle and nerve to fill Vuxten's whole body with pain.

The drums had slowed to a spaced tapping.

--oh shit-- 471 said.

His armor suddenly beeped twice and opened, the neural plug disengaging.

Vuxten fell out of his armor and onto the ground. He rolled, out of ingrained reflexes, fully expecting a stomp to try to finish him off. The snow was bitterly cold, he was only wearing his adaptive camouflage uniform, and he looked up as he managed to get his feet under him.

The huge Terran held Vuxten's armor aloft by one hand, lifting it so high that it was in front of the full white moon.

The stubber and cutting bar dropped from the armor's hands.

The Terran looked at Vuxten, his eyes a cold clear blue, and smiled cruelly.

"Now what, little man?" He asked. He threw the armor to the side and hefted the knife.

Vuxten got to his feet, hoping that 471 was all right.

The Terran kicked the cutting bar over to Vuxten.

"Show me what is inside you that let you survive the dark will of Mass-Tem-Ha, the Dark One," the Terran said, his voice low and cruel.

The drummer's tapping slowed even further.

"How will your people endure? How will they build? How will they find the light?" Kris asked, moving into a guard position, holding the knife close. "Is all you have is rage?" he cracked his neck. "Because, boy, when it comes to rage, you are but the student."

Vuxten snarled, willing himself to stop shivering as he bent down and picked up the cutting bar. He had forgotten how heavy it was over the last year, but his feet still moved into the correct position as he raised it up into the guard position.

Behind him, the fat male and female Terrans struggled against their bonds for a moment but Vuxten kept his attention on the big Terran.

For a second Vuxten saw the pale figure, dressed in dark finery, move between two bushes, the open fan shielding the lower half of his face, watching with one eye.

"LET'S DO IT!" the Terran roared, lunging at Vuxten.

Vuxten had forgotten how fast Terrans were.

The reflexes Lady Keena and endless hours of CQC training proved just as fast as he swiped with the blade, forcing the Terran to stop and block the howling chain of the cutting bar. The two blades shed sparks and the Terran leaned into it, forcing Vuxten's arm back, grinning with one missing tooth.

Vuxten used the Terran's own strength to push himself backwards, rolling to the side, coming up in a smooth motion, staying low to the ground, the cutting bar howling as he moved in a low crouch, using one hand to pull him forward faster. The bar snarled as it caught the Terran's ragged pants, then sprayed blood as it found flesh.

The Terran roared in anger, swiping at Vuxten, who had managed to roll out of the way.

Vuxten saw the protective housing open slightly, the fully, and a white blur run away from it. The Terran started to look toward the fallen armor, but Vuxten came in fast again, smoothly moving in a low crouch.

He dodged a kick, took a nasty slash down his back, but managed to rip across the Terran's ribs with the cutting bar.

Vuxten stood up, feeling blood run down his back, as the Terran hefted the knife, ignoring the savage wound down his side that was steaming in the cold.

"Not bad, little man, not bad," the Terran grinned. He hefted his blade and Vuxten could see the blood on it. "Tapped you too, though."

As Vuxten watched the wound began to close up, muscle tissue knitting together, a layer of fat sliding over the meat, and the skin pulling back together to leave a long upraised scar.

The drums were hammering through a complex tune that seemed to push at Vuxten's spirit.

"I've fought the Big Blue Boyscout, the rogue Mantid Speaker Brings Words to Darkness, the Emotion Ursas, Prismatic Brite, Kalki, the so called 'masters of the universe', the Czarnian bounty hunter, Daxin, even KISS," the Terran said, moving slowly in a semi-circle, forcing Vuxten to turn to keep him in sight. "You think you got what it takes, little man?"

Vuxten just nodded.

"I'll crush you and leave your people hopeless," the Terran said, tossing the knife from hand to hand. "No celebrations, no holidays, no joy in the turning of seasons, just one miserable day after another."

Vuxten spotted the slender Terran moving between the trees again.

The little white blur began sawing at the ropes binding the fat man to the chair.

Vuxten moved in quickly, chopping at the figure with the cutting bar, once getting a kick at the side of the Terran's ankle.

It was no good, it was like kicking a steel girder.

Still, his efforts got in a good bite with his chainsword twice.

The backhand about took his head off, throwing him across the clearing to slam against the tree. His vision blurred and he saw three Krushers heading toward him, snapping blood off the knife.

Vuxten rolled away from the tree, pushing off with his legs to get behind it, scrambling to his feet.

"HA HA HERMAN!" the Terran yelled, smashing the tree aside with enough strength that the wood shattered, leaving Vuxten standing behind a low stump, his forearm up to shield his eyes. Vuxten could feel the pain of thick splinters driven through his adaptive camouflage and into his flesh.

Before he could react, the Terran grabbed him, yanking him up.

Vuxten triggered the cutting bar as he came up and over the Terran's shoulder, the blade chewing into meat, spraying blood.

The Terran threw him across the clearing, leaving him sprawled out in front of one of the drummers, who stared at him with too old eyes in a child's face.

Vuxten rolled, getting to his feet, coughing and tasting blood, his back wracked with pain.

Krusher was moving across the clearing, reaching up with one hand to put pressure on the deep slice through his shoulder muscles that left gleaming slivers of chewed up bone in the meat.

"Not bad, kid, but wrath won't save you from me," Krusher said. He bent down, lifting up a thick pole of red and white stripes that had been snapped free, leaving a sharp point.

Vuxten glanced.

Both of the red with white fur trim clothed Terrans were gone.

Vuxten walked slowly toward the massive Terran, lifting his chin in defiance, dragging the silent cutting bar behind him, the tip leaving a thick trail in the snow.

"Time to die, kid," the Terran said, lifting the broken pole with both hands.

Vuxten rolled forward, thrusting with the cutting bar, his thumb pushing the rocker forward. The pole missed but the two arms hit him in the shoulders so hard they drove him to his knees, his arms going numb, his hands letting go of the cutting bar.

Krusher stood over him, looking down at the cutting bar lodged in his guts. The wound was terrible, viscera and intestines bulging from the wound. The cutting bar still roared, moving back and forth slightly the from the chain pulling and pushing.

Vuxten got to his feet.

"That all you go, janitor?" Krusher said.

The backhand knocked Vuxten into the presents. He shook his head, looking back at Krusher, in time to see the muscular Terran pull the chainsword free, his guts spilling out into one waiting hand.

Vuxten looked around wildly for something, anything, to use. The nerve grafts burned as he flailed one hand through the gifts. Candy, blankets, socks, robes, underwear, shoes, and games scattered as he pushed everything aside, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.

A single pink golf ball rolled, coming to rest against a snowglobe of broodcarriers holding hands and looking up.

Vuxten glanced at Krusher, who had finished stuffing his guts back in as he slowly walked forward.

"Looks like your out of gas, boy," Krusher laughed. "Wrath burns out and here, at the North Pole, it is very cold, boy."

Grabbing snow globe, Vuxten stood up on shaky legs. He tapped the snowglobe and held it out in front of him.

happy podling laughing podling playing podling playing in the fluffy snow warm podling mittened podling come help knead cookie dough smart podling clever podling warm podling help put on this bow

"What?" Krusher asked, staggering. He went down on one knee as Vuxten kept moving forward, holding the snowglobe out toward the massive human.

sing little podling sing and dance leap and prance snow is fluffy and fun cookies and cocoa are yum

"Face me like a man, janitor," Krusher snarled, fumbling for his knife.

The broodcarrier song wound around the two, crystalline song notes appearing and disappearing in thin air, as Vuxten moved forward.

Krusher lunged up, smacking at Vuxten, who stumbled back.

Before Vuxten could stop him, the big Terran whirled around, breaking into a shambling run, pushing through the bushes.

Vuxten took two shaking steps and stopped, shivering, feeling the pain of his injuries.

He pulled the snowglobe to his chest, cradling it with bruised hands, two of his fingers twisted.

The drummers went to a single drummer, one eye covered with a bloody bandage, tapping the drum slowly.

Footsteps crunched up and something warm and heavy draped around his shoulders. A gentle hand helped him up.

"Let's get some cocoa into you before you freeze," a warm, pleasant voice said.

471 popped out of the snow, shaking his head, the snow flying off his antenna.

"close" 471 grated out.

Vuxten just nodded as the large, fat male Terran slowly helped him to one of the chairs. The female Terran was pouring hot water from a decorated kettle into a cup, the steam smelling of chocolate.

"We'll have the elves fix up your armor," the male said. He looked around. "Christmas isn't saved yet, Vuxten."

Vuxten just nodded dumbly.

For a split second he saw the tall slender Terran again, watching from in between the bushes, a slight smile on the figure's lips.

WE WILL RETURN AFTER THESE MESSAGES!

CRUSADE

STOP WITH THIS SENSELESS AND AGGRESSIVE CONSUMER PANDERING!

I WISH TO KNOW IF THE TELKAN JANITOR EMERGES VICTORIOUS OVER THE ROGUE ELVEN HIGH LORD!

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Hey, spoilers!