Belonging
  by Alexander W. Dorn 

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        Humankind had seen war fall farther into it's past. Over several hundred years, the descendants of Earth had earned a reputation of being builders and helpers to those in need, and while their history is among the bloodiest of the known Homeworlds, they had successfully managed to drive violence from their society.
        It was not until the Galactic War with the Estronian Empire that humankind once again took arms. When confronted with a violent enemy with no apparent capacity for negotiation and no desire for peace, because Humankind was a major force of leadership, so was advanced the Warrior Prime project, transforming an entire generation of Earth born humans into the ultimate warriors . . .

        Pain coursed through his body. Little of his enhanced senses remained as he struggled to climb the cliff. His space armor, nearly depleted of power, became more of a hindrance than the enhancement it had been designed to be. His fingers began to ache, struggling not only to grasp hold of the rocky surface, but also with the burden of physically forcing the mechanical joints of the armor's glove.
        He knew that his squadron had won the battle. They were Warrior Prime, after all. Though only he had survived the encounter, doing so was unimportant. Victory was important. This is how he had been disciplined. Only now, after the battle had been won, was survival a consideration.
        His Delta Wing fighter had been heavily damaged when the enemy cruiser's main reactor blew, and he had no choice but to crash the space only fighter onto this planet's surface. He knew that no survivors from the enemy cruiser would make it to the planet, but survey ships -- enemy survey ships may come by soon. Survival meant distancing himself from the crashed Delta Wing, especially in his weakened condition.
        His eyes could not see it through the armor's now cumbersome visor, but he knew that bellows of smoke were rising from the fighter's debris. He was Warrior Prime. He could sense these things. If a passer-by were to see it, it would be too simple to locate it's pilot. He needed distance, and a vantage point where he could see any opposition approach. The Cliff was perfect, and extreme pain was not enough to keep him from reaching the top.
        Then, just as he could see the upper ridge of the cliff, he felt it, the final spark of power gone from the space armor. Now he would have to pull himself up purely with physical strength. His mind focused, and his arms became instruments, moving in very smooth, elegant gestures. The added weight of the armor was no longer important. He was Warrior Prime. He would endure.
        A sense of greater urgency came to him, some new problem had developed, but he had to ignore it.  He had to reach the top of the cliff. Anything else, no matter how life threatening, had to remain secondary. With ballet like movements, he body began to pull himself closer to the top. As he pulled his chest, and then his legs over the cliff's edge, only then did the next problem take any importance.
        He pulled himself to his feet, and staggered under a near-by tree. He knew he would fall unconscious soon, so he would be safer under the cover of foliage. As the armor began to fall off, only then did he realize the greater danger that his body had sensed earlier. His bio Harness had failed.
        He never liked the bio Harness. No one did. For war, though, they were a necessity, providing a chemical means of consciousness that would monitor and control most of the body's functions
without the need for food and other maintenance. Through chemical "snack packs" they would be able to survive for years at a time, with only a partial loss of senses, and the loss of all body hair. It
was an annoyance, but necessary, and he was a Warrior Prime. Such annoyances were tolerable to the Warrior Prime, but with a harness failure, he found himself in great jeopardy.
        The Harness, with it's bodily monitoring sensors and chemical release lines, had to be surgically installed and surgically removed. At this juncture, however, he found himself without a surgeon, and
with the knowledge that, leaving a damaged bio Harness in place would kill him, as his own systems would not again take over keeping him alive.
        He stripped himself bare, removing the gray flight suit that was worn under the armor, leaving only the black rubber enclosed Bo harness running down the center of his chest. He felt himself growing weaker, nearing closer to the point of passing out. He knew that if the harness was left in place, he would surely die. The choice was obvious. He began to tear the harness from his flesh. Even if the improper removal of the harness caused serious injury, or even death, it was the only slight possibility he had of survival.
        While the pain was agonizing as each sensor cable snapped and twitched out from under his skin, it was only pain. He was Warrior Prime, and pain was of no consequence. He saw the bulk of the harness fall to the ground in front of him, and began to see the ground below him sway. He felt himself spinning around, detected a slight sense of rising smoke in the distance, and felt himself collapse upon the ground.

        He awoke. Somehow, he felt a change in the air. As he began to realize where he was, and remember what had happened, he slowly began to sense his naked body against the cold, rocky
ground. He did not know how long he had been unconscious, but he did realize that he had survived the 'field removal' of the bio Harness.
        Slowly, he began to feel the muscles in his legs and arms, and the fresh grown stubble upon his cheeks. Somehow, though, he sensed something different, an unusual warmth. He opened his eyes to see a bright blue pair of eyes starring back at him.
        Attached to the eyes was some sort of furry orange serpentine body, which stretched downward across his chest and wrapped itself around his waste.
        Suddenly, his training took over. His body immediately reacted, sending him flying to his feet, spinning around while his arm tossed the serpent away. Immediately, he came to his senses, knew
where he was, who he was, and remembered vividly what had happened.  He began to inspect his chest to see what scaring remained from the harsh removal of the bio Harness. He saw nothing, except what looked like a few fibers of hair from the serpent, embedded in his skin.
        His inner mind began to scream in terror. The idea that, perhaps, that creature had possibly planted some sort of germs, or even larva of some kind within his open wounds; the voice of his inner mind struggled to paralyze him, but it could not. He was Warrior Prime.
        His eyes shot around until he had once again found the serpent, only it was not really a serpent. It seemed more like an insect, a caterpillar of some sort, with two bright blue eyes starring back at him, perhaps in fear, or perhaps in surprise. As his eyes focused on the creature, it's potential of danger seemed less and less.
        Then, his senses became aware of something else, something more familiar to him, something of his own world, less primitive. His eyes shot upwards, and he could see, hanging in the sky, the distant sun-lit glow of something in deep orbit. Most would have probably thought it to be a star, but he was Warrior Prime. He knew it was a spacecraft.
        Matters of survival once again became paramount. Not only did he have to survive in a primitive wilderness, but a potential enemy may soon come hunting for him. He slipped back into the gray flight suit, taking from the armor only the boots and wrist worn power tools with him.
        The power tool wristband, which housed numerous different tools for different functions had also depleted it's power. If an armed enemy were on the approach, he would normally use the tool's plasma discharge weapon to defend himself, but with no power, he was reduced to manually opening the outer casting of the tool chamber and manually extended the cutting blade. It was not the most sophisticated of weapons, but it was the best he had. And, of course, in his hands it was lethal, as he was Warrior Prime.
        As soon as he felt himself somewhat secure, secondary business came into play. He did not know how long he had been unconscious, but he knew that for the first time in years he had to find something to eat -- food and water, luxuries he had not permitted himself in nearly two years -- needs that the bio Harness usually replaced.
        His eyes turned back, looking for the blue eyed snake. Even if it were an insect, it was something that could possibly pass for food. Everything in his training told him so, but there was something different, an ancient memory of the kind that he had not known since childhood. Somehow, he knew it would be wrong to kill this creature simply to feed upon it.
        His inner voice once again screamed, telling him that he had changed; that the creature had somehow changed him. He dismissed this idea -- He was Warrior Prime. It would not be honorable to kill an innocent creature for no reason other than food, especially if other alternatives had not yet been explored. A Warrior Prime had to act with honor!
        As he came down from the cliff, he began to notice an increased level of awareness of things around him. He remembered that he had been in that bio harness for over two years, and that the
bio harness had impaired his senses slightly for that entire period of time, as it did maintain a 'chemically induced' state of consciousness. Rather than struggle, concentrating only on his current situation, he found that he was enjoying the fast paced walk down the other side of the cliff, which was a much easier route, and into the forest at the cliff's base.
        As he went through the forest, back-tracking to the downed Delta Wing in hopes of finding a power cell, he extended his senses into the forest, trying to detect not only signs of danger but also some possibility of food. His mind began to enjoy this place as he could hear the leaves brushing together in the soft gentle wind. The sounds of some sort of animals, perhaps birds or something else, seemed to soothe his senses. He had not felt such an experience since before . . .
        He didn't really remember what the training was to become a Warrior Prime. He remembered that he had volunteered for it at the age of thirteen, wanting to protect his parents from the invading
Estronian forces. Everyone on the planet was doing it. He knew that it had taken them five years to train him, and he knew that he was different when he came out. It was not until this walk through the forest that he realized he had lost something in the training. He knew, verbatim, what he had gained, but he had forgotten that he had lost the simple pleasure of enjoying his surroundings. Such things were unnecessary for a Warrior Prime.
        Then, his frame of thought changed. He heard something -- water; running water; a stream! He fought to contain the shear excitement of the prospects of enjoying a drink of water, or simply the feel of water against his skin. His inner voice once again shouted in muffled protest; He was losing control. He did not care.
        He began to rush towards the sound of the stream, still remaining alert, still watching out for any kind of threat. He approached a rocky clearing, with large rounded rocks paving the ground around the stream. On the rocks sat dozens of those orange caterpillar things, apparently sunning themselves, emitting a gentle purr, with no concern whatsoever for his presence.
        One of them had coiled itself around something, and began taking bites out of it -- it was some kind of fruit! Just the word, fruit, gave him a sense of satisfaction, childhood memories of the flavor of soft, fresh peaches and strawberries. He looked up, and saw hundreds of the small round growths hanging from the trees overhead.
        He rushed up the tree, which was but a minor obstacle for a Warrior Prime, grasped hold of one of the growths, then dropped back down to the ground.
        The inner voice began to scream in protest, warning him that he had not tested this thing; that it was of an alien world, and just because that 'serpent' could eat it did not mean it was safe for him; stories of ancient writings about the serpent and the fruit began to flood his mind, but he ignored them.
        He took a bite, rubbing the soft pulpy fruitstuff with his tongue against the top of his mouth, squeezing the honey sweet juice into his cheeks, swallowing in sheer pleasure. The fact that it was an alien fruit seemed irrelevant at the moment -- it was the first solid food he had eaten in years. The fact that it was wonderful was only a bonus.
        The analytical part of his mind reminded him that, since he was going to be on solid food again, his body would have to deal with other natural phenomenon which are necessary when not using a
bio harness.
        He began to laugh. He began to laugh at his training, at being a Warrior Prime, and how it had gotten him, upon the first taste of food in years, to think not of it's flavor but of the waste material he would have to deal with! He took another bite, and began to walk towards the stream.
        The caterpillar creatures no longer seemed to be a threat to him whatsoever. Though his inner mind tried to convince him that they were, it's voice seemed to grow more and more distant. The fact that the creatures seemed to move out of the way, providing him with a path to the stream only helped to make that inner voice more irrelevant.
        He bent over and let the cool water run between his fingers, another sensation he had not felt in a very long time. He cupped his hands together, and brought some water up to his lips, which rejoiced in it's cool wetness. Within moments, he found himself on his knees, splashing his face with water.
        Again, his mind began to warn him -- warn him that he did not know what was in the water; it could contain germs or bacteria that could be deadly to him.
        He dipped his face into the stream, feeling the water running across his face, rubbing it into his bald head, feeling it trickle down his ears.
        Then, he heard a rumble. His training once again took control as he sensed the caterpillar creatures scatter in all directions. He rushed out of the clearing and into the cover of trees once again, just in time to see a lander pass overhead -- from the ship in orbit. He heard a different sound, similar to the purr, but different. He looked up and saw one of the caterpillars wrapped around the limb of a tree, trembling in fear. He reached out his hand, and it instantly, almost instinctively swung it's head around, resting it in the palm of his hand, once again purring.
        Gently, he ran his thumb over it's forehead, looking into it's eyes which somehow seemed calmed by his presence. Slowly, he withdrew his arm, and began to contemplate the situation. Why did these creatures seem to trust him? Had they done something to him -- planted something in him?
        He smiled at the creature, not knowing if it was even aware of his smile, but knowing that he had more serious business to take care of. A potential enemy was on the approach, and he was without proper weaponry to defend himself. He once again began to rush towards where the downed Delta Wing sat, knowing he was about to encounter this invading force.
        He could safely watch them from the forest. His training had instructed him on how not to be noticed, in how to become part of the scenery, to move with the surroundings. His training, which
seemed so distant now.
        The debris was practically covered in it's entirety with the caterpillars. They must have found the heat from it too good to pass up. In a unusual way, he was glad of this, glad that his crash could
somehow bring pleasure to someone, or some thing at least, even if it did make his task of finding a power cell more difficult.
        They all wore space armor. He could see them from just within the forest. He did not know if it was because they were of a species that could not breathe this normal atmosphere, or if they were simply being too cautious. The Estronian Empire had many species under it's reigns, so this may simply have been one of the more exotics.
        They marched into the debris, apparently frightened of the caterpillars -- how silly of them, afraid of such a timid creature. They, too, seemed troubled by the complications that the caterpillar's presence presented, as they could not easily search the debris.
        Then, his eyes burst with horror. They began shooting the caterpillars! The caterpillars immediately detected the threat, and began darting away in all directions, which only seemed to provoke these murderers even more, causing to open fire on more and more of them.
        While his training held him in restraint, his newly found feelings urged him to get in there -- get in there and stop them from doing this terrible act. How dare they do this -- How dare they!
        It just became too much. His training be dammed, he had to stop them. Gently, but with the utmost elegance, he began pulling himself into one of the nearby trees, pulling himself upward, and across -- across until he was over one of them, those Bastards!
        With a deep breath, he allowed himself to fall, landing on the one he had judged to be the weakest.  The blade mounted to his power tools immediately plunged into the side of the caterpillar killer, releasing a burst of white gas, the creature's blood pouring over his hand.
        The other two responded almost immediately, firing at him and their dying comrade. It didn't matter.  He knew exactly what motions they would make, and exactly how to avoid them; he knew exactly where they were going to fire, and exactly how to avoid their fire -- he had been Warrior Prime!
        In the confusion, as they shot up the now dead corpse of their fallen comrade, he snatched the
power cell from the corpse's weapon, slipping it into the cartridge slot on his power band.
        His weapon armed, his opposition was dead. He knew how to kill, quickly and efficiency. He had been Warrior Prime.
        He took the weapons of the other two, and began marching upon their lander, firing rapidly at will, hitting points of key vulnerability. Those inside immediately began to lift off, the burst of energy from their initial ascent sending him flying backwards, slamming him against the ground.
        That was the last time he had ever seen a landing party.
        Time passed, and day by day, week by week, he found new experiences, some of which he had faint memories of from childhood, some completely new to him.  He knew that he would probably be here for a very long time. The war had already lasted eight years; such was the only way when having to fight a war in space, having to coordinate so many different factors to insure that all of the needed vessels, supplies, repair components, and personnel were in the right place in the right time. This he had known from once being a Warrior Prime.
        Sometimes, late at night, he would sit upon his favorite cliff, looking up into the stars, wondering if, perhaps someday, his own people might discover that he had survived the fight, that he was alive, alone on this wonderful planet. Perhaps, someday, he would sense another ship in orbit, a friendly ship, to take him home again.
        Then he would get an itch across the center of his chest. That inner voice, who had grown to become but a distant whisper, would still shout from time to time; shout that those people he had
killed were from the Federal Alliance; their insignias were the same as the one on his own space armor; he had killed his own people in order to save those serpents who had somehow changed him;
they had poisoned his mind!
        He did not listen. On a cold, starry night, he would welcome the caterpillars, who loved to wrap themselves around him, warming him with their gentle purr, and he would look into the star filled sky, wondering if they might someday come for him.  If not, though, then he would not mind staying in this place for a while. Never before, not as a child, and not as a Warrior Prime, had he felt such a sense of peace, of calmness, of belonging.

Copyright 1998 Alexander W. Dorn, all rights reserved.