The BooYar - a Guzzi SF adventure (G14)

What the schez do I do now?

"G-Na."

Guzzi had frozen, and wasn't sure he could move if he wanted to.

Sweat trickled down his cheek, despite the cold.

"G-Na. G-Na. G-Na."

He slowly moved his hand to the grip of his plasma pistol. Shoot through the holster? He sharply drew breath in through clenched teeth. Might take my foot off. He stopped himself from shrugging just in time.

Unlike the BooYar, he thought dryly. Schez!

Schez. He slowly drew the pistol from its holster.

Schez. Schez! Okay Guzzi, do something!

And then he was knocked backwards as his very bones reverberated in sympathy with a screaming cacophony of hideousness.

It took him a few moments to realise what had happened and recognise the screeching and scraping, grindingly cracking and crunching sounds for what they were: Schmeep Gar, in full battle cry, crashing into the crevice and knocking him backwards. "No!" he heard himself yelling.

Or rather, he thought he could hear himself yelling.

Maybe. He couldn't think, the noise left no room for sanity. Oh for schez sake, please stop.

Then, just as his ears were surely bleeding, a new sound joined the chorus: the rending of metal. Guzzi pried his eyes open: the BooYar had Schmeep's entire left leg, from just above its knee, in its mouth and was greedily shearing it through.

The creature was positioned so that the top of its skull and back was facing him while it gnawed on Schmeep's leg. "Nooooo!" Guzzi cried, and the pistol fired, shooting red-hot plasma into the critter's lower back.

He fired again.

And again.

He kept firing, until smoke obscured his view.

As the smoke cleared, he slowly realised the screeching racket had stopped. Schmeep Gar was wedged upright between the rocks, and his left leg had emerged through the lower body of the BooYar. He seemed to be experimenting with his foot.

The grinding of its vocal mechanism preceded its interpreter's voice. "Hey if I had two of these, I could make some ugg boots!"

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"Wow. You weren't kidding about those scheznits were you?" Jazz said, not really expecting an answer.

They sat in the middle of a spacious cavern, a fire billowing out light, heat and smoke. Caverns such as this were the only places on the planet where vegetation could be found. Or at least the only places Guzzi had found with vegetation.

Whatever. Being here is such a bad idea.

"No," he managed to say, and even introduced an unexpected tone of civility into his voice.

"So. Now we're here, what can we expect?" asked Schmeep.

Guzzi looked up into the Gar's expectant eyes and shook his head in despair. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said.

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