Categories > TV > Buffy the Vampire Slayer > BUFFY Meets STAR TREK
- Final Battle -
--Warriors--
33
Within the Enterprise all was fairly still.
In Giles' quarters especially there had fallen a peace and calm that had almost become mythical to them. His new and modest little room was ringed as before with 12 anointed purple candles, none of them lit. Candle 13 sat with Giles at one point of the triangle. At the head was Willow and, on either side of her, 2 containers lay into which they hoped to shepherd the Evil entity as in ancient times.
Anya made up the 3rd point and she scanned the altar before her intently. She'd been a demon once, but this was by no means in her field of experience.
Rupert took his small ignition device for the second time with a less shaky hand and leaned into the heart of the triangle to where a charcoal block rested inside a clamshell filled with sand.
Once again the point had arrived where there was no turning back.
"What exactly are we doing again?" Anya chirped nervously.
Giles paused and bit his lip.
"Well," replied Willow, "if things work out...I'll be crossing over."
At that, Rupert continued to burn the tablet until the charcoal sparked. He blew at it a little.
"Crossing over?" Anya considered. "That sounds... dangerous."
Giles took the salad of ground seeds and leaves and poured it over the charcoal with the myrrh. "Not so long as she has you as her anchor," he assured her, watching as the blessed goods fanned the flame of the tablet and smoke rose from the altar. "Let's begin."
*
Xander was having trouble pinpointing viable targets in the mess left behind from the big explosion. The two sides were truly mixed and the entire sniper unit had to take care in their aim. It turned out easier to go for the ugliest things.
*
Picard surfaced from the blasted muck with a gasp. Recovering his footing, he came to stand; coated in the slimy paste of the swamp. His ears still rang from the explosion of Kuhl and a dizzy bewilderment threatened to knock him back to the ground. He found himself now in an area of beaten sludge that surfaced above the filthy ground mist. All about him, remnants of the explosion protruded from the ooze. The remains of people... and things.
He also saw beside him the charred body of one of his infantrymen. 2 rifles still slung over his shoulder. It wasn't down to Kuhl, however, as was evident by the deep gash through his face.
Picard turned his own face away, sickened and bitter. His sight fell on the great skirmish all around him and his bitterness became anger. He'd led his men into a war like none he'd faced before. And the thing about war that troubled him most... was the level of casualties he could expect. The rising anger threatened to take him to an extreme place but, still, he was Jean-Luc Picard. Logic drove his madness.
The captain knelt by his dead officer and uncoupled the power cells from the 2 rifles strapped to his shoulders. Putting them aside, he put his own phaser against the man's body... and destroyed the remains.
The battle around him began to drift his way, so he quickly removed the strap from his rifle and tied the power cells together before strapping them to his phaser. Remembering Beverly and Daniels' report from the Sal Fusian science station, he set his weapon to overload and held it over his shoulder like a javelin. Aiming into the largest concentration of hostiles, he launched his rifle and pulled his hand-phaser out like an old Wild West gunslinger. Three attacking dead men vaporised and his javelin bomb exploded in the distance an instant before it hit the floor.
The blast mashed more than a hundred of the enemy militia into a steaming crater and sent the rest into chaos.
*
Worf recoiled as a Starfleet officer flew across his path with a scream. Turning to see the cause, he was faced with a shocking and fearsome sight. A great ogre of a thing, standing three times his height, overshadowed him. It considered the Klingon briefly and finally pounded its monstrous fists into the ground as a challenge. Worf actually stepped back from it, avoiding the swell of mud it sent out from the impact. Frozen, not with fear, but dazzled by the magnificent specimen before him, Worf watched its leathery nostrils flare out and gush a hot stream of bitter air.
Its body, built like the body of a Terran primate, was covered completely with an armour plated skin. And like one of those Earth Apes, the arms were long and out of proportion to the body and ended with fists so large, Worf believed the open palms could hide his entire body beneath. It was then he noticed the beast shaking frantically. Like him, it was not out of fear. The ogre trembled with building rage; the adrenaline pumping through it with such force it shook. The Klingon readied himself for the attack.
The behemoth snapped suddenly and tore his bat'leth away from him. Before he knew what happened, he saw the sword that, for 10 generations, had been with his house vanish into the distance.
He didn't get time to dwell on his loss. He rolled as a massive set of knuckles landed in his stead and leapt clear as they followed him and slapped into the soft earth in his wake.
Standing, he considered the possible means by which to retaliate, but instead he found himself brushed aside by the beast. It smashed him with a giant palm and the warrior lifted from the ground and flew.
He found a patch of gritty earth as he landed on his back and skidded. Digging his heels in, he came to a sheering halt and scrambled to his feet. The monstrous giant was coming at him fast. It covered so much ground at an unbelievable pace, surprising him just how far he'd been batted. It was almost on top of him when he reacted with an uncharacteristically unsporting move. Worf sunk his hand into the dirt and threw mud up into the ogre's eyes.
The demon reeled and stopped. It opened its thick eyelids to reveal eyes filled with dirty brown sludge.
Worf grinned. That had to sting.
A set of inner eyelids crossed over the beast's great eyes like curtains - brushing the dirt aside. The thing had built-in wipers!
Then the eyes narrowed and focused menacingly down at him.
Worf was in trouble.
The thing seemed unstoppable. It reminded him of a Klingon Krac'Nul. Deep in the lava caves of the mountainous regions of Q'onoS there lived colonies of bone-plated animals. Similar to the creature before him but not close to the size. And very few Klingons that ever faced the Krac'Nul triumphed. There were weak points, of course, where the plates met. Without a long blade, it seemed there were few points of weakness available to him on this occasion. The neck was the most obvious, but too high. Ankles...behind the knees...possibly the waist.
The beast let out a roar that brought thunder to the ground beneath Worf's feet. He reached behind his back and slipped out his mek'leth. The short 'h'-shaped sword wasn't too threatening to a monster of such size, but it was the best he had.
He ran, twisted onto his back and slipped under its legs - slicing his blade across one of the creature's ankles. When he drew himself up, the ogre spun on its strong legs to face him again. He glanced at his mek'leth to see the edge blunt and ragged. He cursed in Klingonese and reacted to a sudden zombie attack.
He managed to cut off the dead thing's clutching arm rather roughly with his dull blade and a second slice made a terrible mess of its face. Worf looked toward the advancing giant to see Martok step in and distract it. When it turned away from him, Worf identified a weak area. Right at the back of its skull, the big guy had a crack in its armour. It looked like an old fracture.
The zombie came for him again.
*
Martok lurched as the enormous Demon clamped his bat'leth with one giant bone-encased hand and crumpled it like paper. It ripped the weapon from his grip and sent him soaring with one swipe.
*
Worf saw an opening. He dragged his zombie around to face the back of the behemoth and shoved it toward the larger creature.
The ogre roared again and slammed its heavy fists into the ground. Any moment it would turn to finish Worf.
The ambassador paused not for a second. Running, he vaulted onto the zombie, slicing open its head as he went. Leaping from its shoulder, he flew up with his mek'leth raised and came down onto the monster's back - piercing through the fractured armour with the point of his blade, he dug it deep into the skull of the giant beast.
The ogre gurgled a little before both of them crashed to the muddy floor. The mist around was sent up into the air along with slime as the impact sent Worf rolling away.
He resurfaced quickly and escaped from the filthy cloud, looking for a sign that Martok was alive.
About 50 earth metres away he saw the chancellor warily regaining his feet. He also saw a sword-wielding monster behind him raising its pointed weapon to strike Martok down.
*
The chancellor knew nothing until he heard the sound of a blade cutting into flesh behind him. Martok spun to see Worf's mek'leth embedded in the chest of a large horned being. He gave Worf a nod, unsheathed his scimitar and drew out his pistol. Vaporising the demon, he pushed forward - hacking and disintegrating everything in his path. Hack zap slash bang.
*
Worf had his own troubles from then as he fought on with only his d'k tahg knife.
*
Five demons rushed Spike. Hurling both his short scythe and half-spear, he dropped the first two. The others he met hand to hand. He spun and caught the chin of one with his heel, dropped and took the legs from another. He brought a roundhouse up to beat the next with. He fought them but soon began to struggle. Though he managed after some difficulty to bring the Bura Demon to it's knees and snap it's neck, he hadn't the tools about him to finish the others. Yet he fought them. He fought them until sniper fire rained down into the crowd around him. The demons dispersed a little to avoid the lasers and Spike found himself dodging the fatal energy beams along with them. Again, the Starfreaks had denied his humanity and given him up to die with the beasts of hell.
He moved quickly to avoid being laser-dusted only for something to leap onto his back. He rolled forward and came up to see a Gobbler Demon picking itself up from the thick marsh. Spike knew little of the species but he did know it was a harmless puppy-eater. It attacked him again. Remembering his little speech about genocide and how some demons were no real threat, he greeted the Gobbler with a fist to the face that knocked its lights clean out. Then an energy beam burned into the wet soil and almost took Spike's foot off.
The vampire ran through the fire to the edge of the evil horde and dived into the air to freedom; a phaser blast passing close enough he felt the searing heat against his flesh.
*
Far above the valley and the clouds over it, the clashing and the shooting and the screaming rang like a song of war in the skies.
*
Life, for Buffy, had been pain. Even in times of joy there were always the underlying questions that made life so hard for her to bear. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Should I have friends? Do I deserve them? Will I get them killed one day? Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I feel connected to the world? To people? To life? Why are relationships so difficult? Why does it all hurt so much? Why do my emotions pierce my every waking moment like thorns? ... Who am I?
They all fell away. Every question. Every pain. Every emotion. The bat'leth she wielded was no longer held by her. It was part of her. As she fought with speed and clarity beyond anything she'd ever experienced against an enemy numbering greater than any she's faced, her pain and struggle had become inner peace. No encounter she'd ever had was as overwhelming as this one and no encounter had ever felt so right. This was her calling. It was for war she was created. Great and glorious battles of ultimate intensity. She wasn't a pest controller. She wasn't built and placed in the universe to kill bugs one at a time without purpose. She was built for this very thing. For days like this day. She was the Slayer. She was... a WARRIOR!
Everything became so perfectly clear. She could feel. At last she could feel without pain.
She felt her spirit, like a phoenix rising from the fires within her, and it was euphoric!
Then, a giant animal swooped down from the sky and took a demon from right in front of her.
The Slayer gasped as she witnessed a flock of winged creatures attack the battlefield, picking off members of both forces. Drawn to the noise, the native birds came out of the skies. They were massive in size and leathery like winged crocodiles with the feathered forelimbs and hind legs of eagles - like some kind of pre-historic or mythical earth creatures.
*
Spike, having regained his feet, also dropped his jaw at the sight of the flying beasts. He figured it made sense. The last thing they wanted was to run out of things trying to kill them.
He watched one of them very intently as it drew closer to the valley. It passed over the tall trees beating its wings effortlessly; its feet curled up to the belly.
With a sharp reflex, he snapped his forearm back to block an attack. He floored the Hellion and spun back to see the winged lizard with its legs and feet outstretched. It was coming... for him!
Spike, ever the gentleman hero, grabbed the nearest brain-muncher and offered it up to the winged beasty. It took the bait and flew onward. Spike watched the witless zombie flapping about in the sharp talons of the airborne animal and chuckled to himself. The realisation that he had gloated a little too much came to him quickly as it occurred to him that the attack had scattered everyone and everything around him and that now he was alone in a small open area. He heard a piercing screech from the sky behind him. Spike managed half a turn before another raptor swooped in and carried him off.
The land fell away from him suddenly and he growled as the animal's nails dug deeper into the meat of his shoulders. He struggled in its grip without effect. The thing was strong. But the land below was now thick with trees and falling further away and the clouds above grew near. "Oh...bloody hell!" He was getting too high for comfort.
The vampire freed the demon within and wasted no time in biting into the leg of the bird. It screamed wildly and released him. For a fraction of a second he congratulated himself...
Then he dropped from the sky and slammed through the jungle canopy.
*
Riker barked the order for a group of his gunners to use a low phaser setting to deter these new flying creatures. The last thing they wanted to do was to damage the natural balance of this world any more than they had already. Some of the men did this and turned their phasers skyward - stinging the raptors with belly shots and turning them away from the valley.
Harris spotted one of the birds making a dive toward the warriors below. He locked the animal in his sights, though it moved so quickly, and fired. The blast from his rifle engulfed the winged menace and took it apart until all that remained was air.
"Yes!" he called out, and turned to the nearest man. "Did you see that? What a shot!"
The whole sniper team was looking at him blankly. And Riker was eyeing him quite severely. The man looked pissed. Then Xander saw Freeman, with a sympathetic expression, simply shaking his head.
Oops.
He went back to shooting the deadies, leaving the birds to the other guys.
*
Martok cut off grasping arms with his sword and vaporised those on the end of them with his Klingon disruptor. He scanned overhead for birds before he fired the pistol twice more then reacted to something out the corner of his eye. His scimitar met with another blade. Turning, he saw there was a being that looked almost human, but with 2 blades for arms.
"Try cutting my arms off you pathetic mortal!"
The chancellor brought his gun around but the demon deflected the hand with a metallic arm. They swung at each other over and over until their blades clashed.
Sword-arms proved too quick for Martok and highly skilled. It trapped his sword between its arms and snatched it from his hand. Again he tried to shoot it down. When it made to cut away his wrist, Martok pulled away and cracked his foot into the thing's kneecap. It fell to its blades and knees and the Klingon trapped the being's left arm under foot.
The demon prepared for the kill and drew back his other arm...
And the Slayer caught it between the points of her bat'leth. With one sudden and elegant motion she sliced the arm of at the meaty shoulder.
The demon roared in agony and bled orange from its wound.
Martok holstered his gun. The Slayer knew this was his enemy. He was the one who should finish it. She hooked her toes under the severed limb and kicked it up into the Klingon's hands.
Pointy-fingers tried to stand and face them until the chancellor used its right arm to cut off its left. The demon stifled a scream and knelt in submission.
"Seems that you are 'armless after all," Martok said mockingly.
The demon grimaced. "That sucks, man."
Chancellor Martok stabbed the hostile's limb through its chest and reclaimed his scimitar. He thanked the Slayer for the hand before parting company once again.
*
Picard dropped to the floor as a flying beast passed over him. From there he destroyed a number of enemies with his hand phaser before lifting himself up. When he stood, however, not all his parts followed. His foot was stuck. Looking to it, a hollow-faced dead man surfaced from the mist and pulled his leg into the earth. The captain fell again and cursed as his face went into the thick cement of the muddy ground. He could feel his whole leg disappearing under the surface and he twisted around, bringing his phaser to bear at the monster's head. With its other hand the zombie caught Picard's wrist and bent it back until the gun pointed to the open sky.
Captain Picard struggled against pain but didn't give up. He kicked the creature hard in the head until its head collapsed and the brain that gave it life oozed out from its broken skull. His limbs were free. He dragged his leg out from the heavy paste and turned what was left of the abomination into vapour.
*
Lieutenant Boone - rifle dug into his shoulder, knees bent and walking, one eye fixed through the sights - searched for targets. Not many of the enemy fighters remained around him and the mist had risen in places with the warring. He located Ambassador Worf and identified the small group of hostile creatures circling him. Boone approached, firing rapidly. He killed 3 of them before he'd drawn their attention. One came from the mist beside him. He smashed its jaw with his rifle butt and again took to firing at will.
*
Worf heard the phaser fire as he battled. Dead people surrounded him and he didn't have a second to pause as he used his Klingon dagger to slice away their reaching fingers. Slipping under the flailing limbs, he cut deep wounds into their bodies and stabbed into their backs and necks. It didn't kill them but kept them at bay. It was enough for a time until Boone took them down.
A few metres away, the ambassador saw a demonic creature carrying a Klingon spear. It was waiting for him. Around him, Worf could see a number of prone bodies with the spears of warriors protruding from them. So he went to a nearby headless corpse and ripped from it a Klingon lance for himself.
The hairy, horned savage lifted its pointed wood and walked toward him. But Worf didn't. He ran.
The demon took his lead and they galloped at each other like a pair of jousting knights.
Their tips passed. Worf put out a hand. One spear met flesh.
Worf roared as he thrust the sharp end of his stick deep into the gut of the monster. In his other hand he'd caught the end of the other lance. The demon dropped.
Ambassador Worf took both spears in his hands and braced himself against the land. He forced himself to stand upright; fighting the breathlessness that had finally caught up with him. Looking around he saw for the first time that nothing was coming at him.
*
The winged raptors, it seemed, had all been scared off and the Alpha Team found themselves having to go find bad guys to kill as there were now large open spaces throughout the valley. Some areas had such a number of severed bodies that mounds of them sat higher than the mists. It reminded the Slayer of that first day when she'd seen the Klingon battle program in the holograph room. She didn't have to walk far to find some of the others. Captain Picard, Worf, Martok and some of the surviving Klingons and remaining Starfleet infantry.
Some of the faces she remembered from earlier were there and some were not. But it wasn't until Spike drifted out of the mist that she realised he hadn't been there.
The vampire limped over and joined them mumbling profanities and something about flying and trekking through the jungle. His platinum hair sat dishevelled on his head and his black clothes and skin were torn and scratched in places. He rested his hands on his thighs and inspected their surroundings. Not many of the dark army were within sight and those that were began to join together to form a single unit. That army was behind - in the direction they had come from.
"We got a clear path ahead," Spike reported, looking towards the trees. Beyond, he felt the presence of Darkness.
Picard asked that Martok stay in the valley with his Klingon group and the infantry to finish off the army there. Martok gladly took the job and Boone organised the men into attack formation.
"Ambassador," Picard said to Worf as an invitation to join him. "Miss Summers. Perhaps you'd like to lead the way?"
Buffy turned to the vampire.
"Right. That'd be my job." Spike brushed his hair back and straightened up. "Let's finish this, eh?"
*
Xander, up in his firing position, watched through the scope of his gun. The A-Team had broken off and were moving to the line of distant bamboo trees. Spike was leading them into the lion's den.
He watched Buffy entering the jungle with the captain and her Cling-on friend. He also noted that she had her big crescent sword and that the big guy had 2 spears with him. But only the captain went in with a laser gun. A small handgun at that.
The mission - their entire operation and the future of everything - depended on the success and survival of that team. He knew they could handle themselves. He'd seen enough in the last bunch of minutes to know that. But he didn't like the fact they had just the one gun. It felt wrong somehow to him on some instinctual level.
Riker gave orders to his men until he heard the Harris boy say something. He turned to see the outsider standing poised on the crest of the ridge. "What?" he called back.
"I have to go," he said again. "The A-Team might need back-up in there."
He'd got Freeman's attention with that.
Riker shook his head. "The unit stays together, Harris. We haven't won anything yet. Take your post."
"I'm not asking."
Riker did a double take. He couldn't believe-
It was too late. The boy was already bounding down the slope and into the plain.
Will turned to Captain Freeman hoping for a similar reaction.
But Dave had seen something in Xander's insane courage. He confiscated a second rifle to go with his own and the hand phaser in his belt and gave Riker a wink. "Cover us, Commander." With that, he went chasing after the soldier boy.
Xander fired at any of the demons and zombie freaks that were in his direct path as he ran into the Army of Darkness to reach his Slayer.
Behind him, Freeman followed with his two rifles raised; picking off anything that came up on Xander's rear.
Up on the hillock, Will Riker yelled new orders to his team and many of them turned their attention to helping keep the journey of the two former snipers as smooth as possible.
Riker had to admit... the boy was brave.
He picked up his rifle, knelt on the edge of the rise, and gave Xander some cover fire.
*
Out of the valley plains, the trees - like big dark bamboo - were densely clustered.
Spike tested the air with his senses and pointed a finger forward. "That way. The bastard's that way."
"I know you don't want to go in there," said the Slayer, "but... I really need you to, Spike. I can't have a hope to win without you backing me. You have strength over him. I need that strength with me."
Spike smiled at that. It almost...warmed his heart. Almost touched him in a soft fuzzy place. Mostly it just stirred his loins. "We gonna chat all evenin' or go kick some hell-spawn arse?"
She smiled back and moved off toward their enemy. Picard passed him and the Klingon began to before stopping and handing Spike one of his spears.
"You may need this," Worf remarked.
Spike took the weapon gratefully and set his pain and concern aside. Heading forward, he led them through the jungle and began the hunt.
--Warriors--
33
Within the Enterprise all was fairly still.
In Giles' quarters especially there had fallen a peace and calm that had almost become mythical to them. His new and modest little room was ringed as before with 12 anointed purple candles, none of them lit. Candle 13 sat with Giles at one point of the triangle. At the head was Willow and, on either side of her, 2 containers lay into which they hoped to shepherd the Evil entity as in ancient times.
Anya made up the 3rd point and she scanned the altar before her intently. She'd been a demon once, but this was by no means in her field of experience.
Rupert took his small ignition device for the second time with a less shaky hand and leaned into the heart of the triangle to where a charcoal block rested inside a clamshell filled with sand.
Once again the point had arrived where there was no turning back.
"What exactly are we doing again?" Anya chirped nervously.
Giles paused and bit his lip.
"Well," replied Willow, "if things work out...I'll be crossing over."
At that, Rupert continued to burn the tablet until the charcoal sparked. He blew at it a little.
"Crossing over?" Anya considered. "That sounds... dangerous."
Giles took the salad of ground seeds and leaves and poured it over the charcoal with the myrrh. "Not so long as she has you as her anchor," he assured her, watching as the blessed goods fanned the flame of the tablet and smoke rose from the altar. "Let's begin."
*
Xander was having trouble pinpointing viable targets in the mess left behind from the big explosion. The two sides were truly mixed and the entire sniper unit had to take care in their aim. It turned out easier to go for the ugliest things.
*
Picard surfaced from the blasted muck with a gasp. Recovering his footing, he came to stand; coated in the slimy paste of the swamp. His ears still rang from the explosion of Kuhl and a dizzy bewilderment threatened to knock him back to the ground. He found himself now in an area of beaten sludge that surfaced above the filthy ground mist. All about him, remnants of the explosion protruded from the ooze. The remains of people... and things.
He also saw beside him the charred body of one of his infantrymen. 2 rifles still slung over his shoulder. It wasn't down to Kuhl, however, as was evident by the deep gash through his face.
Picard turned his own face away, sickened and bitter. His sight fell on the great skirmish all around him and his bitterness became anger. He'd led his men into a war like none he'd faced before. And the thing about war that troubled him most... was the level of casualties he could expect. The rising anger threatened to take him to an extreme place but, still, he was Jean-Luc Picard. Logic drove his madness.
The captain knelt by his dead officer and uncoupled the power cells from the 2 rifles strapped to his shoulders. Putting them aside, he put his own phaser against the man's body... and destroyed the remains.
The battle around him began to drift his way, so he quickly removed the strap from his rifle and tied the power cells together before strapping them to his phaser. Remembering Beverly and Daniels' report from the Sal Fusian science station, he set his weapon to overload and held it over his shoulder like a javelin. Aiming into the largest concentration of hostiles, he launched his rifle and pulled his hand-phaser out like an old Wild West gunslinger. Three attacking dead men vaporised and his javelin bomb exploded in the distance an instant before it hit the floor.
The blast mashed more than a hundred of the enemy militia into a steaming crater and sent the rest into chaos.
*
Worf recoiled as a Starfleet officer flew across his path with a scream. Turning to see the cause, he was faced with a shocking and fearsome sight. A great ogre of a thing, standing three times his height, overshadowed him. It considered the Klingon briefly and finally pounded its monstrous fists into the ground as a challenge. Worf actually stepped back from it, avoiding the swell of mud it sent out from the impact. Frozen, not with fear, but dazzled by the magnificent specimen before him, Worf watched its leathery nostrils flare out and gush a hot stream of bitter air.
Its body, built like the body of a Terran primate, was covered completely with an armour plated skin. And like one of those Earth Apes, the arms were long and out of proportion to the body and ended with fists so large, Worf believed the open palms could hide his entire body beneath. It was then he noticed the beast shaking frantically. Like him, it was not out of fear. The ogre trembled with building rage; the adrenaline pumping through it with such force it shook. The Klingon readied himself for the attack.
The behemoth snapped suddenly and tore his bat'leth away from him. Before he knew what happened, he saw the sword that, for 10 generations, had been with his house vanish into the distance.
He didn't get time to dwell on his loss. He rolled as a massive set of knuckles landed in his stead and leapt clear as they followed him and slapped into the soft earth in his wake.
Standing, he considered the possible means by which to retaliate, but instead he found himself brushed aside by the beast. It smashed him with a giant palm and the warrior lifted from the ground and flew.
He found a patch of gritty earth as he landed on his back and skidded. Digging his heels in, he came to a sheering halt and scrambled to his feet. The monstrous giant was coming at him fast. It covered so much ground at an unbelievable pace, surprising him just how far he'd been batted. It was almost on top of him when he reacted with an uncharacteristically unsporting move. Worf sunk his hand into the dirt and threw mud up into the ogre's eyes.
The demon reeled and stopped. It opened its thick eyelids to reveal eyes filled with dirty brown sludge.
Worf grinned. That had to sting.
A set of inner eyelids crossed over the beast's great eyes like curtains - brushing the dirt aside. The thing had built-in wipers!
Then the eyes narrowed and focused menacingly down at him.
Worf was in trouble.
The thing seemed unstoppable. It reminded him of a Klingon Krac'Nul. Deep in the lava caves of the mountainous regions of Q'onoS there lived colonies of bone-plated animals. Similar to the creature before him but not close to the size. And very few Klingons that ever faced the Krac'Nul triumphed. There were weak points, of course, where the plates met. Without a long blade, it seemed there were few points of weakness available to him on this occasion. The neck was the most obvious, but too high. Ankles...behind the knees...possibly the waist.
The beast let out a roar that brought thunder to the ground beneath Worf's feet. He reached behind his back and slipped out his mek'leth. The short 'h'-shaped sword wasn't too threatening to a monster of such size, but it was the best he had.
He ran, twisted onto his back and slipped under its legs - slicing his blade across one of the creature's ankles. When he drew himself up, the ogre spun on its strong legs to face him again. He glanced at his mek'leth to see the edge blunt and ragged. He cursed in Klingonese and reacted to a sudden zombie attack.
He managed to cut off the dead thing's clutching arm rather roughly with his dull blade and a second slice made a terrible mess of its face. Worf looked toward the advancing giant to see Martok step in and distract it. When it turned away from him, Worf identified a weak area. Right at the back of its skull, the big guy had a crack in its armour. It looked like an old fracture.
The zombie came for him again.
*
Martok lurched as the enormous Demon clamped his bat'leth with one giant bone-encased hand and crumpled it like paper. It ripped the weapon from his grip and sent him soaring with one swipe.
*
Worf saw an opening. He dragged his zombie around to face the back of the behemoth and shoved it toward the larger creature.
The ogre roared again and slammed its heavy fists into the ground. Any moment it would turn to finish Worf.
The ambassador paused not for a second. Running, he vaulted onto the zombie, slicing open its head as he went. Leaping from its shoulder, he flew up with his mek'leth raised and came down onto the monster's back - piercing through the fractured armour with the point of his blade, he dug it deep into the skull of the giant beast.
The ogre gurgled a little before both of them crashed to the muddy floor. The mist around was sent up into the air along with slime as the impact sent Worf rolling away.
He resurfaced quickly and escaped from the filthy cloud, looking for a sign that Martok was alive.
About 50 earth metres away he saw the chancellor warily regaining his feet. He also saw a sword-wielding monster behind him raising its pointed weapon to strike Martok down.
*
The chancellor knew nothing until he heard the sound of a blade cutting into flesh behind him. Martok spun to see Worf's mek'leth embedded in the chest of a large horned being. He gave Worf a nod, unsheathed his scimitar and drew out his pistol. Vaporising the demon, he pushed forward - hacking and disintegrating everything in his path. Hack zap slash bang.
*
Worf had his own troubles from then as he fought on with only his d'k tahg knife.
*
Five demons rushed Spike. Hurling both his short scythe and half-spear, he dropped the first two. The others he met hand to hand. He spun and caught the chin of one with his heel, dropped and took the legs from another. He brought a roundhouse up to beat the next with. He fought them but soon began to struggle. Though he managed after some difficulty to bring the Bura Demon to it's knees and snap it's neck, he hadn't the tools about him to finish the others. Yet he fought them. He fought them until sniper fire rained down into the crowd around him. The demons dispersed a little to avoid the lasers and Spike found himself dodging the fatal energy beams along with them. Again, the Starfreaks had denied his humanity and given him up to die with the beasts of hell.
He moved quickly to avoid being laser-dusted only for something to leap onto his back. He rolled forward and came up to see a Gobbler Demon picking itself up from the thick marsh. Spike knew little of the species but he did know it was a harmless puppy-eater. It attacked him again. Remembering his little speech about genocide and how some demons were no real threat, he greeted the Gobbler with a fist to the face that knocked its lights clean out. Then an energy beam burned into the wet soil and almost took Spike's foot off.
The vampire ran through the fire to the edge of the evil horde and dived into the air to freedom; a phaser blast passing close enough he felt the searing heat against his flesh.
*
Far above the valley and the clouds over it, the clashing and the shooting and the screaming rang like a song of war in the skies.
*
Life, for Buffy, had been pain. Even in times of joy there were always the underlying questions that made life so hard for her to bear. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Should I have friends? Do I deserve them? Will I get them killed one day? Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I feel connected to the world? To people? To life? Why are relationships so difficult? Why does it all hurt so much? Why do my emotions pierce my every waking moment like thorns? ... Who am I?
They all fell away. Every question. Every pain. Every emotion. The bat'leth she wielded was no longer held by her. It was part of her. As she fought with speed and clarity beyond anything she'd ever experienced against an enemy numbering greater than any she's faced, her pain and struggle had become inner peace. No encounter she'd ever had was as overwhelming as this one and no encounter had ever felt so right. This was her calling. It was for war she was created. Great and glorious battles of ultimate intensity. She wasn't a pest controller. She wasn't built and placed in the universe to kill bugs one at a time without purpose. She was built for this very thing. For days like this day. She was the Slayer. She was... a WARRIOR!
Everything became so perfectly clear. She could feel. At last she could feel without pain.
She felt her spirit, like a phoenix rising from the fires within her, and it was euphoric!
Then, a giant animal swooped down from the sky and took a demon from right in front of her.
The Slayer gasped as she witnessed a flock of winged creatures attack the battlefield, picking off members of both forces. Drawn to the noise, the native birds came out of the skies. They were massive in size and leathery like winged crocodiles with the feathered forelimbs and hind legs of eagles - like some kind of pre-historic or mythical earth creatures.
*
Spike, having regained his feet, also dropped his jaw at the sight of the flying beasts. He figured it made sense. The last thing they wanted was to run out of things trying to kill them.
He watched one of them very intently as it drew closer to the valley. It passed over the tall trees beating its wings effortlessly; its feet curled up to the belly.
With a sharp reflex, he snapped his forearm back to block an attack. He floored the Hellion and spun back to see the winged lizard with its legs and feet outstretched. It was coming... for him!
Spike, ever the gentleman hero, grabbed the nearest brain-muncher and offered it up to the winged beasty. It took the bait and flew onward. Spike watched the witless zombie flapping about in the sharp talons of the airborne animal and chuckled to himself. The realisation that he had gloated a little too much came to him quickly as it occurred to him that the attack had scattered everyone and everything around him and that now he was alone in a small open area. He heard a piercing screech from the sky behind him. Spike managed half a turn before another raptor swooped in and carried him off.
The land fell away from him suddenly and he growled as the animal's nails dug deeper into the meat of his shoulders. He struggled in its grip without effect. The thing was strong. But the land below was now thick with trees and falling further away and the clouds above grew near. "Oh...bloody hell!" He was getting too high for comfort.
The vampire freed the demon within and wasted no time in biting into the leg of the bird. It screamed wildly and released him. For a fraction of a second he congratulated himself...
Then he dropped from the sky and slammed through the jungle canopy.
*
Riker barked the order for a group of his gunners to use a low phaser setting to deter these new flying creatures. The last thing they wanted to do was to damage the natural balance of this world any more than they had already. Some of the men did this and turned their phasers skyward - stinging the raptors with belly shots and turning them away from the valley.
Harris spotted one of the birds making a dive toward the warriors below. He locked the animal in his sights, though it moved so quickly, and fired. The blast from his rifle engulfed the winged menace and took it apart until all that remained was air.
"Yes!" he called out, and turned to the nearest man. "Did you see that? What a shot!"
The whole sniper team was looking at him blankly. And Riker was eyeing him quite severely. The man looked pissed. Then Xander saw Freeman, with a sympathetic expression, simply shaking his head.
Oops.
He went back to shooting the deadies, leaving the birds to the other guys.
*
Martok cut off grasping arms with his sword and vaporised those on the end of them with his Klingon disruptor. He scanned overhead for birds before he fired the pistol twice more then reacted to something out the corner of his eye. His scimitar met with another blade. Turning, he saw there was a being that looked almost human, but with 2 blades for arms.
"Try cutting my arms off you pathetic mortal!"
The chancellor brought his gun around but the demon deflected the hand with a metallic arm. They swung at each other over and over until their blades clashed.
Sword-arms proved too quick for Martok and highly skilled. It trapped his sword between its arms and snatched it from his hand. Again he tried to shoot it down. When it made to cut away his wrist, Martok pulled away and cracked his foot into the thing's kneecap. It fell to its blades and knees and the Klingon trapped the being's left arm under foot.
The demon prepared for the kill and drew back his other arm...
And the Slayer caught it between the points of her bat'leth. With one sudden and elegant motion she sliced the arm of at the meaty shoulder.
The demon roared in agony and bled orange from its wound.
Martok holstered his gun. The Slayer knew this was his enemy. He was the one who should finish it. She hooked her toes under the severed limb and kicked it up into the Klingon's hands.
Pointy-fingers tried to stand and face them until the chancellor used its right arm to cut off its left. The demon stifled a scream and knelt in submission.
"Seems that you are 'armless after all," Martok said mockingly.
The demon grimaced. "That sucks, man."
Chancellor Martok stabbed the hostile's limb through its chest and reclaimed his scimitar. He thanked the Slayer for the hand before parting company once again.
*
Picard dropped to the floor as a flying beast passed over him. From there he destroyed a number of enemies with his hand phaser before lifting himself up. When he stood, however, not all his parts followed. His foot was stuck. Looking to it, a hollow-faced dead man surfaced from the mist and pulled his leg into the earth. The captain fell again and cursed as his face went into the thick cement of the muddy ground. He could feel his whole leg disappearing under the surface and he twisted around, bringing his phaser to bear at the monster's head. With its other hand the zombie caught Picard's wrist and bent it back until the gun pointed to the open sky.
Captain Picard struggled against pain but didn't give up. He kicked the creature hard in the head until its head collapsed and the brain that gave it life oozed out from its broken skull. His limbs were free. He dragged his leg out from the heavy paste and turned what was left of the abomination into vapour.
*
Lieutenant Boone - rifle dug into his shoulder, knees bent and walking, one eye fixed through the sights - searched for targets. Not many of the enemy fighters remained around him and the mist had risen in places with the warring. He located Ambassador Worf and identified the small group of hostile creatures circling him. Boone approached, firing rapidly. He killed 3 of them before he'd drawn their attention. One came from the mist beside him. He smashed its jaw with his rifle butt and again took to firing at will.
*
Worf heard the phaser fire as he battled. Dead people surrounded him and he didn't have a second to pause as he used his Klingon dagger to slice away their reaching fingers. Slipping under the flailing limbs, he cut deep wounds into their bodies and stabbed into their backs and necks. It didn't kill them but kept them at bay. It was enough for a time until Boone took them down.
A few metres away, the ambassador saw a demonic creature carrying a Klingon spear. It was waiting for him. Around him, Worf could see a number of prone bodies with the spears of warriors protruding from them. So he went to a nearby headless corpse and ripped from it a Klingon lance for himself.
The hairy, horned savage lifted its pointed wood and walked toward him. But Worf didn't. He ran.
The demon took his lead and they galloped at each other like a pair of jousting knights.
Their tips passed. Worf put out a hand. One spear met flesh.
Worf roared as he thrust the sharp end of his stick deep into the gut of the monster. In his other hand he'd caught the end of the other lance. The demon dropped.
Ambassador Worf took both spears in his hands and braced himself against the land. He forced himself to stand upright; fighting the breathlessness that had finally caught up with him. Looking around he saw for the first time that nothing was coming at him.
*
The winged raptors, it seemed, had all been scared off and the Alpha Team found themselves having to go find bad guys to kill as there were now large open spaces throughout the valley. Some areas had such a number of severed bodies that mounds of them sat higher than the mists. It reminded the Slayer of that first day when she'd seen the Klingon battle program in the holograph room. She didn't have to walk far to find some of the others. Captain Picard, Worf, Martok and some of the surviving Klingons and remaining Starfleet infantry.
Some of the faces she remembered from earlier were there and some were not. But it wasn't until Spike drifted out of the mist that she realised he hadn't been there.
The vampire limped over and joined them mumbling profanities and something about flying and trekking through the jungle. His platinum hair sat dishevelled on his head and his black clothes and skin were torn and scratched in places. He rested his hands on his thighs and inspected their surroundings. Not many of the dark army were within sight and those that were began to join together to form a single unit. That army was behind - in the direction they had come from.
"We got a clear path ahead," Spike reported, looking towards the trees. Beyond, he felt the presence of Darkness.
Picard asked that Martok stay in the valley with his Klingon group and the infantry to finish off the army there. Martok gladly took the job and Boone organised the men into attack formation.
"Ambassador," Picard said to Worf as an invitation to join him. "Miss Summers. Perhaps you'd like to lead the way?"
Buffy turned to the vampire.
"Right. That'd be my job." Spike brushed his hair back and straightened up. "Let's finish this, eh?"
*
Xander, up in his firing position, watched through the scope of his gun. The A-Team had broken off and were moving to the line of distant bamboo trees. Spike was leading them into the lion's den.
He watched Buffy entering the jungle with the captain and her Cling-on friend. He also noted that she had her big crescent sword and that the big guy had 2 spears with him. But only the captain went in with a laser gun. A small handgun at that.
The mission - their entire operation and the future of everything - depended on the success and survival of that team. He knew they could handle themselves. He'd seen enough in the last bunch of minutes to know that. But he didn't like the fact they had just the one gun. It felt wrong somehow to him on some instinctual level.
Riker gave orders to his men until he heard the Harris boy say something. He turned to see the outsider standing poised on the crest of the ridge. "What?" he called back.
"I have to go," he said again. "The A-Team might need back-up in there."
He'd got Freeman's attention with that.
Riker shook his head. "The unit stays together, Harris. We haven't won anything yet. Take your post."
"I'm not asking."
Riker did a double take. He couldn't believe-
It was too late. The boy was already bounding down the slope and into the plain.
Will turned to Captain Freeman hoping for a similar reaction.
But Dave had seen something in Xander's insane courage. He confiscated a second rifle to go with his own and the hand phaser in his belt and gave Riker a wink. "Cover us, Commander." With that, he went chasing after the soldier boy.
Xander fired at any of the demons and zombie freaks that were in his direct path as he ran into the Army of Darkness to reach his Slayer.
Behind him, Freeman followed with his two rifles raised; picking off anything that came up on Xander's rear.
Up on the hillock, Will Riker yelled new orders to his team and many of them turned their attention to helping keep the journey of the two former snipers as smooth as possible.
Riker had to admit... the boy was brave.
He picked up his rifle, knelt on the edge of the rise, and gave Xander some cover fire.
*
Out of the valley plains, the trees - like big dark bamboo - were densely clustered.
Spike tested the air with his senses and pointed a finger forward. "That way. The bastard's that way."
"I know you don't want to go in there," said the Slayer, "but... I really need you to, Spike. I can't have a hope to win without you backing me. You have strength over him. I need that strength with me."
Spike smiled at that. It almost...warmed his heart. Almost touched him in a soft fuzzy place. Mostly it just stirred his loins. "We gonna chat all evenin' or go kick some hell-spawn arse?"
She smiled back and moved off toward their enemy. Picard passed him and the Klingon began to before stopping and handing Spike one of his spears.
"You may need this," Worf remarked.
Spike took the weapon gratefully and set his pain and concern aside. Heading forward, he led them through the jungle and began the hunt.
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