Stranded on a Tiny Planet

Divide and Conquer

"Ready...now!" Cresh barked, turning fast and throwing a disc up high behind him.

Gurt did the same.

The discs flew up, glowed with green lights, and flashed brightly with two tight circles of stunning energy. Everything within the green circles dropped to the ground. Then the discs hit the purplish sand with two thuds.

Cresh smirked and walked toward the stunned figures laying on the ground, "Well! Got a few of em...and we didn't even have to go far."

But suddenly more figures descended from high in the air, picked up their fallen comrades, and shot up into the sky again. Cresh and Gurt tried to catch them but they were already well over their heads and flying back into the trees. They could see some fly left and another group fly right, splitting up.

Cresh ground his dental ridges with frustration, "Ok...guess this won't be as easy as that." He sighed a bit but smirked again, "But I'll bet they can't fly very long with the extra weight. Might get more than we initially thought."

His Gret'nal partner rattled his back spikes, tongue flicking. The blue Mohawked mercenary retrieved his discs, placing them in a recharging port on his belt since they were only good for a stun before they needed charged again.

"I'll take the ones that went left and you go after the ones that went right."

Gurt nodded and began stalking toward the trees, scenting the air for his prey. Cresh frowned and adjusted his goggles' settings. He sure hoped the extra work would be worth it.

...

Later at Bent Peak...

Merco waited, pensively turning the knife between his fingers. He never thought he'd have to be in combat again; never thought he'd be sitting quietly psyching himself up to plunge a knife into an enemy. Oddly, much like a glove, the old Merco he'd long since shoved to the back of his psyche was reemerging. That Merco knew what to do when facing an enemy hand-to-hand. Of course, facing a Gret'nal in a fight was not something he hoped to ever add to his list of "life accomplishments"...or perhaps written on his tombstone.

Nearby Anu was perched over his head on the rocks. In light of her mate's death she opted to keep close to Merco and aid him if she could. She wasn't a combatant but she was his ambassador and as such she would help him in any way she could. Kriees and Boroxle were nearby as well on the ground. Amazingly, Coroc (whose legs had mended) had a small squadron of his own standing by. It pleased and also surprised Merco when he arrived and offered his skills to aid him rather than attack him.

Merco's plan was he would engage/jump whichever mercenary was led to Bent Peak. Whilst distracted, Coroc's team would make an attack on their eyes. If they could blind the mercenary then Merco stood a better chance of winning.

It wasn't long until he spotted movement just over the trees. The distinct humped shoulders and bulky stature left little doubt it was the Gret'nal. Merco's heart began to pound with adrenaline. The feeling was all too familiar; exactly the same as preparing to sweep a building for enemies. Potential death and injury breathing its foul breath down his neck. His grip on the knife became intense.

"He's coming..." Merco whispered, eyes never faltering from the figure in the distance.

"Is it the monster?" Kriees asked.

He nodded.

...

Anu couldn't believe her mate was gone. Though he was a combatant and she understood the danger of the profession and the mission, it didn't lessen the painful ache of loss. She had told him she loved him and to be safe, to which he replied the same in turn. But now it was just a memory; his voice, the shape of his tall plumage, the smiles that would break through his stoicism.