Invasion By Betrayal

By Ron Lugge

Part Sixteen

Kane's face was drawn. "Do you control a point of ingress?"

"Wha?" The Sakkran commander's face was blank.

"Do you have a place where they can land?" Kane explained, frustrated.

"Yes. Near rock garden. Good rocks there, not Ithkul rocks." The General gave a large, toothy grin. "Taste real good when need snack. Second send spot now."

"Keep your mind on the fight, general. Get back to work. I'll land the rest of the marines as soon as I get the coordinates."

"O. K." Godzilla grinned, and then signed out.

"McGuillity, you heard the lizard. I want every last marine in the fleet en route in five minutes. That includes ship's security. Naval personnel can take that over for now." Kane ordered with a yawn. "I'll be in bed when you have something for me. And that something had better be controlling that ship, or heads will roll."

With the additional reinforcements, General Godzilla was able to keep a watch on the entire area surrounding the Ithkul position. Unable to penetrate any further, he ordered the scientists to come in, under the guard of some of the reinforcements, and begin disassembling and reverse engineering the ship. They weren't harmed, but several of the marines reported 'feeling watched.' General Godzilla simply reinforced the science groups with one Sakkra marine each. Then, General Godzilla had an idea. He grabbed a group of combat engineers off the power generators, and had them rig explosives around the area where one of his squads was ambushed. Detonating it, he was able to repeat the Ithkul's bulkhead smash in reverse. Pouring his troops into the breach, he was able to penetrate that much deeper into the ship. Here came the real surprise, as the Ithkul dropped the hit-and-run approach.

The first thing anyone knew of it was when all Ithkul resistance ceased. Pausing, the column of Sakkra marines looked around warily. There was no reason for the Ithkul to stop firing. Spreading out a little, they began moving again. Suddenly, lances of red light blasted into the column. The lances existed for a split second, and then they dimmed. They swirled, and dissipated, as the air they had passed through began to mix with the rest of it. The Sakkra marines that had been hit held still for an instant. Roaring, they charged forward. Most of them did, anyway. Those that had been hit fell forward, and swiftly crumpled into dust. Blasts of green light began returning fire at the now swarming Ithkul. Each side had the corridors filled with bodies, and the fighting swiftly turned sharp claw-to-slimy tentacle.

Sakkra marines rushed up, and tried slashing with their outstretched hands, while the Ithkul used their tentacles to whip down on the marines, often ripping long furrows in the marines armor as the tentacle adhered to the armor just long enough to tear it off. The instant an Ithkul managed to draw blood, it sent all its myriad tentacles roaring into the wound, and began drinking. Any Sakkra so affected was able to see what the Ithkul actually looked like: a massive plate of armor, clenched onto a human torso, with a head that reached up and plugged into a human head. The armor reached around into the back, where what looked like claws dug into the skin, and beneath it into the bones of the ribcage and spinal cord. Out of the gaps between the claws sprouted the tentacles that ripped and flailed at the marines, long and slimy with sharp, hard, and hollow tips. The rest of the Ithkul was hard, harder than even the Sakkra scales. The human eyes glared out of large, fish-eye lenses formed by the Ithkul, and the human mouth beneath the plated of armor was wide open, with the Ithkul using it as its main access point, where it interfaced with the body. Food was ingested through the tentacles shoved several feet into the body of its prey, and air was absorbed through the Ithkul's pores. After a few seconds the Sakkra seeing this image fell slumped against the Ithkul, drained of all its blood. The Ithkul then withdrew from the marine's body the tentacles that had been holding it in a tight embrace. Had there been time, the Ithkul would have spat some acid inside the body to turn it into an edible soup, or opened up its armored shell enough to crunch into the remains.

The marines slowly pushed the Ithkul back, through superior numbers and nothing else. For every Ithkul that fell, two took its place. For every Sakkra that fell, ten took its place. The fight was not one sided, as for every Ithkul that fell five marines died. The marines slowly pushed the Ithkul back, until the corridor suddenly opened up. Before the marines was the core of the Ithkul area. Swarming over a giant something, the Ithkul filled the room, coating the walls and whatever it was they were guarding. Finally, the marine's had enough room to bring their disrupter rifles back into play without killing each other. However, the Ithkul could bring their disintegrator rifles into play as well. Suddenly, the odds were in the Ithkul's favor, as their lesser numbers were counterbalance by a very simple fact: the Sakkra could no longer bring as many marines to bear as the Ithkul could. The Sakkra pushed through, and slowly balanced out the odds, but the losses were telling. Just before Godzilla was about to call a retreat, the Ithkul lines broke and the Sakkra rushed into the space. Red and green beams danced around each other, with green becoming more and more predominant. Finally, the whine of overloading weapons and roar of fighting soldiers softened, and died out. All that was left was the ticking of overheated metal cooling, the heavy breathing of the Sakkra marines, and the whisper of decaying corpses. The enormous room, no clear of living Ithkul, was covered with the handholds and protuberances the Ithkul has clung to. In the center of the room was a large, pulsating mass of ooze that coated a feeding area. Filled with body parts from many species, it stank of death and decay. One remaining Ithkul - its host dead - crawled towards them, and sank its tentacles in and fed. A Sakkran marine, disgusted, destroyed the last remaining Ithkul. All was silent, until one marine growled. Not the growl of combat, or pain, but of victory!

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