So I've made some Civilization Beyond Earth fan art a while ago, but was a bit reluctant to post it anywhere I was writing this story accompanying the image over the course of the whole december, and only got to finish it yesterday - and I really wanted to push it out before the new year starts So here we go, I hope you enjoy it!



---------------



...The wind was getting stronger. Vicious gusts blew lumps of sticky spores into Dave's protective coat, and he could almost feel the treacherous burn on his skin inside this nasty decommissioned Marine spacesuit. He turned around, observing the endless fungus-covered hills around him, and looked back at the point where the rover's tracks dissapeared in the dense dusk. "Somewhere there far away in Central, there's a warm and safe apartment waiting for me..." - thought Dave.

"Hey, Briggs or whatever your name is!" - a sharp voice came through the crackling static in his headphone, "we won't be waiting for you, special snowflake. Either you hurry up or you bite the fungus like Pete did, may his sorry ass rest in peace, understand?" "Yes Chief, I'm moving." - Dave mumbled.

Dave remembered Pete's fate. Visions of a lifeless body covered by pockmarks of spores, a cleaved visor, and a dead man's grin peeking through the crack in the glass. And the spores, those goddamn spores everywhere, perforating a bulletproof suit as if it was paper, chewing the skin and flesh and bones away. Soon there is nothing left but corroded metal shreds in the fields of blue mold.

Dave shuddered and shook his head, chasing the nightmare away. "Why did I even think it was a good idea to volunteer for this caravan? If I stayed in Central I probably would have gotten a proper job at least at the repair facility." Bitter regret was filling him since the weather changed and this whole sector has become hell itself. Suddenly Chief's voice interrupted his thoughts, it sounded unusually alarmed. "Smith, Briggs, Mullen, Foster, report to my position. Quickly". And to Dave's surprise, in a much louder voice directed to the drivers, "CONVOY, HALT!".

As he approached the four silhouettes in the glowing twilight standing by the rover, a sound he never heard before faded from outside his helmet into his consciousness. It was a screech accompanied by a terrifying hum full of hate, anger and threat, a noise much louder than what any animal or alien Dave knew could produce. The usual sizzle of the miasma spores on their coats or the peaceful roar of the rover's idle-running engines drowned in the noise as it emerged from behind the nearest hill and dissipated in the murk far behind their backs. "Son of a bitch, that's exactly what we needed right now!" Dave saw a flash of anger in Chief's visor. "Alright everyone, grab your boom sticks, that's a big one. God damn this vermin." The last sentence Dave assumed Chief said to himself.

Dave never thought he'd get to try out his firearm. Unlike his cruddy suit, this gun was state-of-the-art equipment designed by ARC's top engineers and landed in his hands almost straight out of the autofactory. As he was wiping the spores off the shiny butt, the noise grew louder - to the point where Dave could feel the vibrations rumbling in his body almost undampened by the soft growth underneath his boots, filling him with dread of what may lay behind the hill. "Move out," Chief's voice was clear and devoid of any fear. If he was afraid, then he was really good at hiding it. "Foster, you're staying here, someone's gotta protect our precious cargo, eh? Drivers, be ready to punch in the coordinates of the closest outpost and piss off at the shortest notice. Now let's go, time to show the foul cockroach who's the boss here."

Dave couldn't remember the last time he was in such an agony as was the walk up to the ridge. Even during the Planetfall back when he was a teenager, when he jumped out of the pod straight into this hardly surveyed and alien world ingnorant of things to come, he didn't feel so insecure as he was now. The soft mold underneath Dave's boots was getting increasingly slick, so he had to take great care not to slip head first into one of the plenty spore-filled puddles pockmarking the landscape. His gun's belt was uncomfortably wrapped around his arm, and the walk on this steep ground covered his foreheard with big pearls of sweat - meanwhile, the ever increasing noise of the unknown creature from behind the ridge together with the static-distorted heavy breathing of his comrades mashed his ears into a pulp of pain and suffering. "Could it get any worse?!" wondered Dave as he was making the last steps to the hilltop. It could.

A horrifying vista opened in front of Dave's visor. Far downhill, deep in the glowing mist covering a valley the ground was littered with empty chitin shell fragments, remnants of local wildlife that has become victim of the hunger of the gigantic creature sitting amidst them. The mist prevented Dave to see the details of this creature, but he guessed it's not smaller than the rovers he left behind on the other side of the hill. A broad armored back of oily chitin with green glowing spheres to its sides and a long powerful tail that reminded Dave of the scorpions that were roaming the wide deserts of Old Earth stood out of the wavering fog that covered the bowl. The ground seemed to shake under the raw pressure of noise emanated by the creature, and as Dave was struggling to stay conscious he guessed more than actually heard Chief say "This can't be..." followed by a sharp "FIRE!". With almost a sigh of relief Dave fell on one knee, pulled the safeguard lever to automatic fire, aimed at where he guessed the beast's head was and pulled the trigger. The tough recoil caught him by surprise - he was almost knocked over and the first few tracer rounds lit up the air far behind the target. "You retarded idiot!" Dave heard Chief yell through the thundering gunfire, and as he looked down the iron sights again the ground in front of him suddenly burst apart.

Thousands of spores and splatters of glowing liquid erupted in all directions, and Dave gasped as the shockwave punched all air out of his lungs. As if someone flicked a switch in his head - the world went dark and colorless, no Up or Down anymore and the gun's heavy thump ceased, only to succumb to a ringing noise that seemed to have filled his whole being and the entire universe. Shellshocked, he sank down in the soft mold, and apathetically gazed as a large green glowing orb flied past him as if in slow-motion and disappeared behind the ridge. Through the deafening noise in Dave's ears Chief's voice was a mere guess of a sound, but as Dave managed to grasp a quiet "incom-" a sudden human scream in his headphones interrupted him, full of fear and pain.

"Foster!" thought Dave, and while he struggled to regain his senses strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up on his feet again. "You alright, jackass?!" Chief's face appeared in front of Dave's visor, his voice sounding as if spoken through a thick pillow. Somewhere close lonely chaingun fire was drowning in the creature's roar. "Get your shit together and listen! Quick!" Chief turned him around as if he was a stiff plank. Dave followed his index finger and gazed at what Chief was pointing at. "Your gun's gone, and Mullen's gone too." Not too far away Dave saw a metal shred stick out of a pretty large and viciously glowing miasma spot, a human-sized lump covered in dissolving rags convulsing right in its middle. The mess slowly clearing up in his head turned into a storm of disgust and panic, Dave was close to throwing up in his helmet. "Is...is that M-Mullen?" Dave refused to trust his eyes. "Yea Briggs, that's him. And you'll follow what I will say now unless you wanna join him, get it? You're useless meat now. Unarmed and an easy target. Move your ass back to the rover, let me know how's it looking there. Now hurry up, GO." Was that care in Chief's voice? Surprised, Dave left the beast behind his back and shambled back towards the ridge, past Chief and past the cursed spore-filled puddle. Smith, who struggled with a heavy ammo belt stopped and hastily nodded behind his shoulder when Dave's eyes fell on him.

Descending the steep hillside was an almost equal struggle as walking up. The shallow valley where he left both rovers was hiding in the murky glowing mist that seemed to dense up right every time Dave tried to gaze through. The sudden gusts of spore-loaded wind kept pushing him in the back as if they were encouraging him to tip over and fall into one of the plenty miasma holes littering the ground ahead. "Gotta go fast. Gotta go fast." mumbled Dave and sweat dripped down his forehead. The sound of his pulse rang in his ears like a bell of cast iron, and together with the anxiety and panic filling his bruised brain it shaved off any hint of reasonable thought, exposing the only instinct - flight. Only as the sounds of raging gunfire and the equally raging roar began to dissolve in the twilight behind him, he allowed himself to slow down his pace.

Suddenly, an unexpectedly harsh gust sent him in a tumble, and he fell over when his foot stepped on a slippery spot. Dave's visor hit the ground with a scary crunch, and he felt the whole weight of his suit press him against the ground. "Shit, shit, shit" thought Dave and moaned as he attempted to move his foot. Agonizing pain traveled up his leg from his ankle and forced him to stay still for a while. "I hope it's not broken... I need to get up... Let's do this" Dave mumbled and pushed himself off the ground - first sitting down, then getting up and trying to not to use his wounded foot. Even the slightest motion brought him a lot of suffering and he felt the ankle swell, but he was sure it wasn't broken, just sprained. As he shakely stood up, he observed the damage on his visor - the glass had a crack right in the middle where it crashed into a round pebble, but the innermost layer wasn't pierced - the helmet was still sealed. A sigh of relief escaped Dave's mouth and he set out on his task again, limping and quietly moaning with every step.