Vulpine Command Ship: Portsmouth Orbital, Exterior
The Vulpine Autocracy. That's what the humans called them anyway. What they called themselves few humans could pronounce and fewer still cared to. The Autocracy wasn't very popular with their neighbors, what with their tendency to categorize all other races as either threats or targets. Predators or Prey. Suffice to say, The Vulpine didn't think much of the United Nations of Orion and their so-called "government."
A country run by a council instead of an autocrat? An Alpha who is chosen by popularity rather than by strength? These were clearly prey. Maybe they were worthy of being slaves, but their tendency to prefer barking and yelping as a way to solve disputes rather disgusted most hunters. These were the thoughts of Bloodseeker of Ogvir, pack master of the Silverclaw Mercenary company. He watched from his chair on the command deck as his raiders finished mopping up the local patrol craft.
For the past several years, independent slaver and pirate guilds had been striking the most far-flung human settlements. Officially "Human Space" only included those star systems within 50 lightyears of Sol, although plenty of humans had settled beyond that limit in various private and corporate outposts. His excellency, the High Alpha, had been very careful to keep raids unofficial, and limited to territory outside of the 50LY limit. Even prey, when riled properly, can overwhelm the hunters. Far better to test the human defenses and the resolve of their leadership.
But now, Bloodseeker was here, at this remote border outpost at the very limits of human space. The space station was massive. Jutting out of an asteroid, the station was a massive cylinder a mile in diameter and four miles long. While incomplete, the station was the property of the United Nations. Still, there's no reason this raid shouldn't go just like the others, thought Bloodseeker. After all, their recon showed only a skeleton crew of less than a thousand. Most of the construction work was automated.
"All ships, execute boarding maneuvers! Hunters, to the airlocks!" A chorus of yips and howls echoed through the ship along with the drumming of clawed fists on the bulkheads. Bloodseeker donned his own combat suit. The thin material was deceptively tough. Designed to resist the heavy lasers and plasma rifles of line troops, against mere police weapons, it had, thus far, provided complete immunity. And the rest of his hunters wore similar suits. All of them bore beam guns capable of cutting through all the human combat armor they'd faced so far. The only thing they'd had to worry about was the ceramic-titanium barricades the humans sometimes employed.
"Assemble, Hunters! Today, we shall have ourselves another hunt. Kill any who resist. Those who surrender may prove useful as slaves, and if not, we can always increase our food stores!" Yipping laughter echoed through the cargo bay. "The humans may be weak, but let's stick to the usual. Advance by pairs, check your corners." Bloodseeker took a moment to survey his men before spotting the youngest, barely more than a pup. "Greenlegs, maybe you can earn yourself a better name today!" More jeers as one of the older Vulpine ruffled Greenlegs' fur. "Follow me! I'll buy a bottle of bloodwine for whoever makes the first kill!"
Cheers filled the hall as the hunters boarded the shuttles.
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Portsmouth Orbital Command Room:
"Captain, the damn fox's took out the last of our fighters!"
"Well, that's it then. We're out of time." Captain Mori pinched her nose and looked at her antique pocket watch. She'd sent those men on a suicide mission to buy time. It was something they needed desperately, but it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Corporal Bishop, did you finish the preparations I requested?"
"Yes ma'am. Civilians have all been evacuated to the central citadel. We've sealed and vented all the routes along the Causeway, and deployed the barricades at bulkheads A3 and A6 respectively. Unfortunately, causeway trams remain inoperative. Are you sure you don't want us to set up the main barricade closer to the docking bays?"
"I'm sure Bishop. You remembered to leave the route I specified open and unlocked?"
"Y-yes, ma'am. But I still don't understand--"
"Captain, incoming hail on a UN command frequency! It's the Renown!"
"On speaker!"
"This is the UNV Renown to Portsmouth Orbital, we've received your distress signal. What is your situation?"
Mori touched the headset on her cheek as a small grin crept into her features. "This is Portsmouth Actual. Bright? Johnny Bright, that you?"
A new voice responded, "Renown actual here. Good gods, Mika! Just what have you gotten yourself into this time?"
Mika Mori gave a derisive chuckle. "Just some trouble with foxes going after the hen house, and me without any bloodhounds! We've got five enemy frigates sending boarding teams. Meanwhile, I have next to six-hundred civies holed up in the station center. I've only got about fifty security personnel plus two dozen volunteers with military or police training."
"Ok, Mika, sit tight, I'm recalling our fighters and escorts now. We can get to Portsmouth in four hours. Can you hold that long?"
Mori nodded despite the call being audio only. "Assuming they don't have anything heavier than rockets, we can hold for longer than that. But hurry anyway, or they might smash this nice bottle of Atlantian Plum Wine before I can offer you any! Portsmouth out."
The mood in the command center had risen noticeably. "Alright people, cavalry are coming, but we still have a job to do! Let's get to it!" And as if on cue, emergency lights began to flash as a klaxon blared.
"Enemy landing craft breaching docking bays 1 and 2!"
"Security, to the barricades!"
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Bloodseeker and his men stormed out of their dropships into the hangar. Not only had the fools left the bay doors open, they also failed to set up proper defenses in the hangar. The few that met him in the hangar fled once the second ship touched down. How such a foolish species had managed to survive long enough to leave their home was a mystery. He would enjoy making bloodwine from their young when this was all over. Young primates did make the best bloodwine. After all it was just and proper. Always use what you kill. To do otherwise was wasteful, and disrespectful to your victims.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Bonesplitter, here, we've swept the other hangar. There was some resistance, but the monkeys fled after we wounded a couple of them. The bulk seem busy hiding further in."
Bloodseeker grunted an acknowledgment. This was going even better than their raids on the outer settlements. Still, didn't hurt to be cautious. "Alright, this should be a standard sweeping op, but let's do this properly. Advance by squads, watch your corners, and check for ambushes." The hunters did as instructed moving in ordered, disciplined groups covering one another as they advanced deeper into the station. It wasn't long before they came to the main access corridor.
Portsmouth was a long, O'Neill-type station. The Causeway, a wide highway and train line running through the station's spine, connected the numerous docking bays and cargo facilities to the center of the habitat drum. Most of the station interior was far from complete, but, since it was carved into the center of an asteroid, the only way in and out was along the causeway.
It was a bit of a hike without access to the station trams, but it was becoming increasingly clear that their prey were huddled towards the station center. Nearly ten minutes of careful advance and they hadn't seen a single human since the small scuffle at the docking bays. Bloodseeker wasn't sure if he should be annoyed, or nervous (he was both). Still, his troops advanced down the dark corridor before coming upon another tram station. This time, the bulkhead was sealed. The forward squad was just deciding if they should exit the tram line or try cutting the door when it happened.
Light flooded the station and laser fire began pouring into his hunters from both flanks. His men dove for any cover they could find: the platform, benches, pillars, and quickly moved to return fire. It didn't take long to find who had superior training and weapons. Even with the advantage of prepared positions and a perfect ambush, less than half of the humans' shots hit home, and most of those that hit were defused harmlessly off of the vulpine combat uniforms. Emboldened, many hunters began to stand from cover, yipping laughter leaving their canid jaws as automatic las fire cut into the humans' positions. Seeing how ineffective their weapons were, it didn't take long for them to break and run. Predatory grins graced the lips of the hunters and jaws began salivating as the smell of cooked flesh filled the air. Futile as their resistance was, it seemed this prey wouldn't be without some sport after all.
"All hunters, advance by hunting party! Pack Leaders, call up the rest of the reserves. It seems there's no reason for them to miss out on the fun!" Having drawn first blood, the Silverclaws eagerly mounted the platforms to the side of the rails and followed their prey out the side doors. Exiting onto the edge of the residential section onto the raised highway. All above, below, and around them were fields of green and grey and silver. Some of the planned city was complete ahead, towards the center of the highway while further out, streets defined the various lots where there would one day be offices or homes or shops. Parks and land plots for crops could be seen around the walls. This station would have been a wonder, one day. It's almost a pity they'll never finish it.
"Pack Master! The enemy gathers ahead!" Bloodseeker turned his attention from the scenery to the group of silver-clad humans ahead of him. These seemed different. Instead of the coveralls worn by the various humans they had encountered so far, these wore silvery grey armor and black undersuits. On their left shoulders, they wore an emblem: an orb with laurels around it. Police? Soldiers? We should be careful with these. We don't know what--
"Look! Spears!" This cry was met with dumbfounded stares followed quickly by more laughter from the hunters. A mere hundred paces away, these humans stood in perfect formation with what seemed to be spears and great shields like soldiers from a long bygone era. The hunters began walking forward, firing into the enemy. Between the smell of charred meat, and the laughable display, all semblance of discipline evaporated. They were so desperate as to resort to using spears and shields! The hunters thought. But something tickled the back of Bloodseekers mind. Something felt off about this. Those shields were proving surprisingly resilient. And their armor certainly seemed to be capable too. As he was absorbed in thought, his men continued their casual advance. Then a high-pitched, authoritative voice rang out like a bell. His implanted translator didn't recognize the tongue.
"構え!" The front line of shielded spearmen knelt revealing the second rank's heads. The parted just enough to leave gaps for the rear rank's weapons.
"狙え!" Two lines of spears lowered towards the vulpine ranks. It Bloodseeker realized: his men were in the open.
"Hunters, Scatter!" But it was too late.
"撃て!" The next thing he knew the world was white and ringing.
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Mori watched from atop her command car as the damn Foxes practically waltzed up to her officers. Arrogant pricks. She'd given explicit instructions: don't fire until I say. 80 meters...60 meters... 40. At 30 meters away, she gave the order to fire.
Thump. Thump Thump. Thump. Grenadiers in the rear launched flashbang grenades over her troops formations. They scattered in front of the Vulpine blinding and deafening them as a rapid chorus of bangs resounded through the station. Riot shotguns immediately unloaded onto the mob of hunters. Three dozen vulpine died to a hail of buckshot.
She was a security officer. A space cop, a coast guard commander. Her men weren't trained to fight an invading army. They weren't equipped for it. But right now, they were the perfect group for the job. Over the last couple years, Orion Naval Intelligence had learned a few things about the Vulpine. First, they tended to think of other species in binary. Either you were a threat, or you were prey. This insight into their psychology had been central to her plan to bait them in.
Naval Intelligence had also learned that most of the other races had forgone both firearms and ballistic armor. It made sense, to a degree. Inside the tight confines of a ship, having bullets flying around was a hazard to everyone. And energy weapons didn't require bulky ammo storage or logistics. Any generator with sufficient power and time could recharge a power pack. Meanwhile, there was no point in carrying bulky ballistic armor when everyone was using beam guns, so most races favored lightweight armor with insulative and energy refractive properties. Of course, this was strictly in boarding actions. Ground combat often involved hand grenades and mortars and missiles, so ballistic armor there was more essential there, but with shipborne and station security, it was as much a hazard to your health as your enemy.
And this was why her security force, armed with low penetration SMGs, shotguns, and modern riot shields was perfect for this. As for the bayonets, her security forces were using the same pattern shotguns as the Army and the Fleet Marines, so all they needed to do was 3D print bayonets.
A call over her headset interrupted her thoughts. "Captain, the enemy is falling back to the tram station! They're running! Should we pursue?"
"Negative! All forces: begin an ordered withdrawal to A6! We've bought ourselves some time while they lick their wounds, but, if I were them, I'd come back with some heavier weapons. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't trust those shields to stand up to a heavy laser or plasma repeater for long!"
"Roger!" With that, her forces boarded their transports and withdrew towards the primary barricade.
As her command car joined the retreating convoy, her radio chirped. "Captain Mori, have a moment?" It was one of the civilian volunteers. An engineer with Daewon Heavy Industries. What was his name? Yoon something? "Yoon Jung Hyun, Captain."
"Ah, sorry. Didn't realize I'd said that aloud. Go ahead, Mr. Yoon."
"That 'surprise' you requested? It's ready. I've just finished fabrication in the Citadel's Engineering bay. They should be deployed and ready in about fifteen to twenty-five minutes."
"Thank gods! Still, are you sure this is okay? Daewon can be a bit touchy on the subject of Fabrication rights. Bypassing their FRM software with a managerial override has to be a breach of contract."
Yoon gave a wry chuckle. "Given the circumstances, I'm sure my employer will overlook this breach of copyright so long as we arrange payment later. Especially given my expertise is worth more to them than a couple of autocannons."
"Thanks, Mr. Yoon. I'm on my way to the first barricade. Load up what you need on one of the trucks, and my men will see you safely there." We just have to hold out a few hours.