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From: Shakes Peer2B <shakespeer2B@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (New) (Shakes Peer2B) Why Can't We All Just Get Along? (SciFi, violence, no-sex, caution)
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Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2005 17:10:03 -0500
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shakes_peer2b AT sbcglobal DOT net

This is NOT a sex story!  It contains bloody violence and killing! Read 
at your own risk!

________________________________
This is a story about a FANTASY. The fictional characters in my stories 
are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what 
they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, 
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the 
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, 
since all of these characters are figments of my imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You 
can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but 
if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the 
law and pissing me off.
_________________________________
Why Can't We All Just Get Along? (SciFi, violence, no-sex, caution)
(C)Copyright 2005 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net
(remove 'NONO' from the above address to contact me)

http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Shakes_Peer2B
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
________

The grey haired gentleman stopped twenty paces ahead of the rest of the 
colonists.  The representative from the native tribe stopped also. 
Slowly the imposing native began circling, its tail twitching. The 
scientist stood his ground, waiting patiently, only turning where he 
stood to watch the native, who resembled a miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex - 
about a foot taller than the man.

The man in the deactivated camouflage cloak stood near the rear of the 
group of colonists, slowly shaking his head.  He quietly released the 
safety on the blaster he held under his cloak.  They hadn't really 
wanted him to come along, but nobody wanted to argue with him, either. 
The other colonists stood nonchalantly watching, weapons holstered, but 
hands hovering over them, convinced by the scholarly gentleman that this 
first contact would be peaceful.

After a full circuit, the native emitted a loud, hissing roar.  The 
translator buttons remained silent as to its meaning.  Taking the 
initiative, the grey haired colonist slowly raised both hands, palms 
outward, to show that they were empty.  The native paused, then crouched 
and raised its clawed forelimbs in a similar posture.

The man in the camouflage cloak muttered, "Fool! They don't know about 
weapons!" He tensed as he saw the native's powerful tail touch the 
ground behind it. Before anyone could react, those tremendous haunches 
and thick tail launched the native through the air, hind legs extended 
forward.  In the blink of an eye, the stunned scholar's intestines were 
spilling onto the ground as the sharp claws on those powerful hind feet 
kicked several times, while the native balanced on its tail, and the 
flashing forelimbs tore out his throat before he could even scream.

The horrified colonists reached for holstered weapons as the man in 
camouflage moved to their flank.

The native tore open the old man's chest and shredded the still-beating 
heart with its foreclaws as all watched, aghast. He turned to his 
companions and growled something that the translator buttons rendered 
as: "It HAS no heart! It didn't even fight!"

To the chorus of agreement from the other natives, it spat once into the 
gaping chest cavity and turned to stalk back to its companions.

The first blaster bolt, from the leader of the colonists, fortunately, 
expended itself in the foliage of a bush.  The second, this one from the 
man in camouflage, threw up gouts of dirt and burned vegetation in front 
of the first shooter.

"Stop it, you fool!" the man in camouflage hissed as the others looked 
his way. "We've got to LIVE with these beings and we'll never survive if 
we try to go to war with them.  Our supplies are not limitless, and 
there's no factory for blaster loads here! We can kill hundreds, even 
thousands of them, but eventually we'll run out of ammo, and there are 
MILLIONS of them out there!"

"Did you see what he did?!" the leader replied, "Poor Dr. Sanders didn't 
have a chance!"

"Poor Dr. Sanders," the man in camo said derisively, "for all his 
University degrees, was a goddamn idiot! We can still salvage this, but 
I need you to put your weapons away and let me deal with them!"

"How do you think YOU can deal with them where Sanders failed, Cooper?" 
the other snorted.

"I've been out in the bush observing them." Cooper replied, keeping one 
eye on the natives. They milled about, shocked by the blaster, but gave 
no sign of attacking. Cooper continued,  "While Sanders and the rest of 
you stayed safe inside your protective barrier, I've been out learning 
about them!  How the hell do you think the translation computer got 
enough speech samples to work so well? Now holster your goddamn weapons, 
all of you, before I shoot YOU!"

"Do as he says!" a short, dark woman spoke from the other side of the 
group, her own blaster covering them.

"Et tu, Tanya?" the leader asked sardonically.

"I'll put my trust in Mr. Cooper." she said, "He's risked his neck every 
day to be out there and learn about these lizards.  Sanders tried to 
apply his book learning without taking the time to know who he faced."

"What are you going to do?" the other said, reluctantly stowing his 
blaster.  The others followed suit.

"I'm going to fight that big dinosaur hand to claw." Cooper said, "These 
are tough, violent beings, but they've learned ways of getting along 
that don't involve wholesale killing.  Either I will kill that lizard, 
or he will kill me.  Either way, if I fight well, you'll have the chance 
to open a dialog."

"How will we know if you've succeeded?" Tanya asked.

"You'll know." was all he said, "Just keep those blasters holstered and 
wait out whatever happens.  It'll be bloody, either way, but if this 
works, this will be the only other death we'll have to put up with for a 
while."

After a general round of nods, he turned to face the natives, who still 
milled about, growling and hissing.

"Our champion failed to fight and we are shamed!" Cooper shouted through 
the translator.  A series of clicks, hisses and growls emitted from the 
medallion on his chest.  "Will you allow us to send another?"

The colonists stared at each other and murmured in indignation.  The 
natives hissed and growled among themselves. Finally, one with yellowed, 
scarred, scaly flesh replied.

"If that is the best you can send," the translator button in his ear 
said, "then it's a waste of flesh. We will just kill you all and trample 
your remains into the soil so your weak blood does not contaminate the 
world!"

"This one," Cooper strode to where Sanders mutilated corpse lay under a 
cloud of local insects and spat, "shamed us all! I will face your 
champion myself, and eat his heart!"

"Big talk from such a small being!" the big, blood-spattered one jeered, 
"You don't even have the claws of a warrior!"

"I am not weak like this one!" Cooper replied, "I do not need claws to 
feed on the likes of you!"

"Let it be, then!" the big one told the scarred one, "I could use a 
little exercise!"

A lift of the scarred one's tail signified assent, and the big one 
lumbered forward.  Cooper shed his cloak and weapons as the other advanced.

"Such a puny little thing!" the lizard growled. He was at least a head 
taller than Cooper's six-three. "Why do you even bother? Just stand 
there like the other and I will kill you quickly! I might even lick at 
your heart because of your brave talk!"

"There is a small creature in the forest that even your people fear," 
Cooper said, circling slowly in the same direction as his opponent, "I 
have killed five of them for my food, without weapons.  Look to your own 
heart, warrior.  I will feast upon it soon!"

The creature paused, it's eyelids blinked rapidly, then narrowed.

"You are the one that killed the grolak?" it said, "When we found the 
remains we wondered...  Perhaps you have a heart worth eating after all!"

"Not that you will ever get the chance!" Cooper replied, "I am Cooper. I 
would know the name of the one I about to kill!"

'Cooper' was not a word the lipless mouths of the natives could repeat, 
but this one tried.

"'Kookah'! It is a name for a small flying creature, not a true 
warrior!" the lizard growled "Not a strong warrior name, like Garrok! 
This is a warrior's name! This is MY name!"

"I will tell the people as we share your heart, Garrok!" Cooper said.

The circle of their steps had grown ever smaller, until now they were no 
more than ten feet apart. Cooper saw the tail touch ground and was not 
surprised when the leap came. Quickly, he stepped forward and to the 
side.  The limbs of the lizard had limited motion toward the sides and 
he was able to avoid the deadly claws on hind feet and forelimbs while 
his karate blows landed on scaled muscle and joint.

The tail of the creature was not as limited as its limbs and it caught 
him in a sweeping blow that knocked him backward about five feet.  His 
martial arts training kept him rolling, forward and to the side, just in 
time to avoid Garrok's second leap. This time, he ducked under the sweep 
of the tail and grabbed it with both hands, jerking just hard enough to 
unbalance the lizard so that it landed awkwardly, off balance.

In a flash, he was on Garrok's back, landing a swift series of blows to 
the muscles of forelimbs and hind legs alike. He leaped aside, swinging 
a hard foot around to catch his opponent in the throat, just as the tail 
again whooshed past!

Garrok, with a roar, pursued as Cooper raced for the edge of the 
clearing, then, with the lizard's hot breath almost on the back of his 
neck, dropped suddenly and kicked backward, catching his opponent in its 
soft belly! He almost got away with it, but a swift foreclaw raked deep, 
bloody furrows, sending fire down the back of his left leg as he rolled 
away!

The two opponents came up facing each other, breathing heavily, limping. 
  One of Garrok's forelimbs hung uselessly before it, the muscles turned 
to jelly by the repeated blows. The other forelimb clutched protectively 
over its abdomen, and one hind leg moved awkwardly.

"So!" Garrok growled, "The bird has claws after all! Good! Garrok does 
not like wasting its effort on the weak!"

"In the land from which I come," Cooper said, "we make songs about 
mighty warriors.  I will make a song about Garrok!"

There was no finesse, this time. The two charged simultaneously. Garrok, 
having learned the dangers of leaping upon this opponent, bounded 
forward and tried to grapple with its foreclaws.  Cooper kept his hands 
in front of him, inside the other's reach as he closed, and bombarded 
the reptilian creature's belly with a series of short, hard punches and 
knee kicks. The effort to protect its already injured abdomen foiled 
Garrok's attempt to rake with his claws, but in a flash of inspiration, 
it tried to emulate its opponent's kicking style and managed to sink 
it's hind claws deeply into the thigh of Cooper's injured leg.

Nearly blinded by the agony in his thigh, knowing he wouldn't be able to 
fight much longer with the loss of blood, Cooper drove a knife-hand 
upward between two horizontal rows of belly scales, tearing through the 
tough flesh, and, grasping the wildly pumping muscle he found there, 
tore it from Garrok's body. He showed it to his opponent. As it spurted 
dark purple fluid the two of them, Garrok, stunned, sank to its haunches.

"So that is my heart." it said calmly, "It is a warrior's heart, is it not?"

"It is a true warrior's heart," Cooper said, then, to the disgust of his 
fellow colonists, he raised it to his mouth and tore a bite of flesh 
from it, chewing, then swallowing.

"It is well..." Garrok said as the light faded from its eyes and it 
toppled sideways.

"This!" Cooper raised the still-pulsing mucle above his head in a 
gesture he had witnessed many times as he watched such battles from 
hiding places in the forest, "This is the heart of a great warrior! Eat, 
my people, and grow stronger!"

He limped over to the one who had fired the blaster before and said in a 
low whisper, translator off, "Take a bite, chew, and swallow!"

"I'm not eating that!" the man said in horror, "it's still alive, for 
God's sake!"

"You will eat it and you will praise the strength of the warrior from 
whom it came!" Cooper said with a burning intensity, "THIS is your peace 
treaty! If you insult these people by refusing to eat the heart of their 
greatest warrior, you will never be at peace with them! Eat! You can 
throw it up when you get back to camp, but so help me, if you puke where 
they can see you, I'll kill you myself!"

Reluctantly, the man tore off a chunk,  and Cooper stepped aside so the 
natives could watch as he chewed, and with great effort, swallowed.

"Now turn on your translator and say, so they can hear you, 'This is 
truly the heart of a great warrior!'"

The man did as asked, though he looked a little pale around the gills, 
and a murmur ran through the native tribe, as tails lifted in appreciation.

One by one, Cooper took the heart to each member of the delegation.  All 
but one resisted, but all eventually ate from Garrok's heart under 
Cooper's watchful eye.

The short, dark-skinned woman took a bite without hesitation, and 
swallowed, gazing into Cooper's eyes.

"This is truly the heart of a great warrior!" she sang out in a clear, 
strong voice.

"Thank you," she said, after praising the warrior's heart "you have done 
us a great service. Will you come to my tent tonight?"

Cooper raised an eyebrow. This one always slept alone.

"You come to mine!" he said with a smile, which she returned.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"There's one more thing to be done..." he replied, turning to the native 
delegation.

Slowly, with great solemnity, holding the remains of the heart high, he 
limped across the gap between the two groups.  When he reached the 
wizened, yellowed leader of the natives, he offered the heart.

"Our thanks for sharing with us your greatest strength!" he said 
solemnly, "We leave you this portion, that your people may remain strong 
and strike fear in the hearts of our enemies, for after this day, your 
enemies are our enemies!"

"We thank you for your generosity!" the scarred one said, "We declare 
ourselves friends of the skinless ones! Let any who wish to harm our 
friends know that the people of the Kanak are their enemies!"

"Will you visit our village?" Cooper asked as the scarred one ate with 
relish from the heart and passed it to his right.

"We will come when the light has gone from the sky three times." the old 
one said, "First we must give our fallen hero his due."

"It is well!" Cooper replied.

"What of your fallen one?" the other asked.

"Let the insects and small, weak creatures eat it." Cooper spat, "It is 
not worthy of a warrior's honor! We will place a marker on this spot to 
remind all of our shame, that it not be repeated!"

The other lifted its tail in approval.

Cooper started back toward his people, feeling light headed as the 
adrenalin faded and blood loss threatened to sap his strength.

"Somebody slap a bandage on these wounds so I can make it back to camp!" 
he said, through gritted teeth.

"What about Sanders?" the man who'd fired his blaster asked, "We can't 
just leave him there!"

"You MUST leave him there!" Cooper hissed, "Come back tomorrow and put a 
marker on the spot, but DON'T TOUCH THE BODY!  We must not be seen to 
eve appear to honor weakness! Even better, whoever places the marker 
should pretend to spit on the body."

"But that goes against everything we believe in!" the man said, "What 
kind of civilization will we have if we don't honor our dead?"

"Don't you get it?" the dark-skinned woman said, "We're not on our world 
anymore!  We're on THEIR world, and if we expect to survive, we need to 
do it by THEIR rules!"

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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