"Eh? Your feet look like you're wearing sandals. Weird," the boy had said, his voice full of innocent curiosity as he stared at my bare feet. His sister had giggled beside him, nodding in agreement. Sandals, she had echoed. The two little humans had gathered around him as he sat upon a crate of Nanoplast waiting for his fellow soldiers to return with the dolly. He had removed one of his combat boots to administer treatment to an old wound. The little humans themselves wore no shoes.

Sandle had looked down at them, momentarily disconcerted by the comparison. He had never thought of his feet that way, but to these human children, everything about him must have seemed strange. It had been long ago, forty-two years, to be exact, when he had first set foot upon Earth. He had been a corporal then, a much younger, hopeful version of himself, tasked with his first mission on this strange, war-torn world. The threatened species, helpless and with few options.

The children had been war refugees, driven from the “human-free zones” not by the ravages of conflict but by political intrigue on the part of enemy action within the compromised local government. They had approached him without fear, without the usual trepidation that most human adults displayed toward him. Perhaps their youth had shielded them from the full weight of his appearance.

"Why do your feet look like sandals?" the girl had asked, her wide eyes peering up at him with innocent wonder. Her arms folded and a smile on her face. Sandle had hesitated before answering, unsure of how to explain the intricacies of his biology in a way the children would understand.

"They are simply how I am," he had said, his voice melodic and gentle, despite the roughness of the Earth’s language on his tongue. "On my world, we all have feet like these. We move differently from you."

The children had stared up at him, their small faces full of fascination. He had answered more of their questions, explaining what he could about his world, his people, and their fight against the Xi. For a moment, he had forgotten the war that loomed over everything, forgotten the horrors of his mission, and allowed himself to simply talk to them as if they were not from such different worlds.

But then their mother had appeared, her face pale with shock at the sight of her children so close to an alien being. She had rushed over, shooing them away with frantic apologies. "I'm so sorry, Corporal Xor," she had stammered, her eyes full of fear and worry. "They didn't mean to bother you."

He had nodded silently, watching as she led the children away, their curious gazes lingering on him until they disappeared from view. The children protesting, “Mommy! We want to talk to Mr. Sandle!” That was how he had become known as Sandle Xor, not his actual name, the humans could never pronounce it. The memory lingered, even now, forty-two years later. A memory of a time when hope had still been within grasp.

But now, that hope was… fading.

Sandle lay back against the cold, unforgiving metal wall of his cell, the memory of those children feeling like it belonged to another life. His body trembled from the aftershocks of torture, his once-strong body weakened from days of suffering. The cell was black and sterile, a place meant for breaking the spirits of humans. It was a torture chamber as much as it was a prison, with hooks lining the walls where instruments of pain hung like gruesome decorations. The Xi had designed the room for humans, for their delicate bodies and fragile minds, knowing that the sight of those instruments alone would utterly terrify them.

But Sandle’s people were not so easily broken. They were immune to mind control, their biology designed in such a way that no external force could invade their thoughts. And while the physical pain was real, it wasn’t enough to make him fear the Xi or their methods. His body would heal. It always did. The Xi had tried everything, pain, isolation, even sensory deprivation and Sandle had not yielded. Not at all.

Still, the consequences of failure was worse than any torture. His mission, critical to the survival of the humans he had come to respect had collapsed into ruins. His cargo, the technology that could turn the tide of the war, remained hidden, but for how long? The Xi were relentless. They would find it soon. And when they did, humanity's hope for survival would vanish with it.

Humanity will perish, he thought bitterly, and it will be because I failed them.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of respite, though the darkness of the cell offered no comfort. The sterile black walls seemed to close in around him, the air thick with the stench of old blood and death. Countless humans had died here, their lives snuffed out once they had given the information the Xi required. Their deaths weighed on Sandle, for he had once believed he could save them. Now, all he could do was wait for the inevitable.

Death.

The door rattled suddenly. Sandle’s eyes snapped open, his body tensing instinctively. It rattled again, more violently this time, as if something, or someone, was trying to break through. For a moment, Sandle thought it was the Xi coming for him again, ready to give him another session of torment or perhaps to attempt mind control once more. But that was foolish. His kind did not yield to the Xi tricks. The rattling door would have terrified a human, no doubt, but Sandle only felt a grim amusement at their crude attempts to intimidate him.

Fools, he thought. Do they think fear will work on me?

The rattling grew louder, more insistent, and Sandle’s mind raced. It’s them, he told himself. They’re coming for me again. Feeling no fear at all.

But then, the metal door was punctured by a metallic spear that then formed into claws and hooks that appeared from memory metal. Then those hooks too pierced the metal and the door was pealed away from its mount. A cacophony of noise erupted outside the cell; a strange, chaotic sound unlike the humming charge and earsplitting zap of Xi drones firing their weapons. It was Gunfire. Human weapons, with the unmistakable scent of gunpowder and human blood.

Battle.

And hope, faint and fragile, flickered once more. He could hardly believe it, the humans had come for him. How? This was an underground fortress of the Xi! How did the humans manage this martial miracle?

The door to Sandle’s cell finally gave way with a metallic screech, ripped off its mounts by augmented human hands. Light flooded into the dim, sterile chamber, illuminating the battered alien form lying naked on the cold floor. The air beyond the cell reeked of death and blood, the remnants of countless prisoners who had met their end in this place. But now, salvation had come.

A human female, clad in battle armor and smeared with the grime of war, rushed into the room. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her face a mixture of relief and determination as her eyes fell on him.

"This is Unit Seventeen! We have Sandle!" she barked into her comms. "I repeat, we have the commander! He’s alive!"

The voice of Captain Carl Anders crackled through the radio. "All units redeploy and converge on Unit Seventeen’s position! On the double!"

Sandle blinked, still disoriented from the torture, as the human woman knelt beside him. Her hands moved with practiced precision as she reached into her pack, retrieving a small metal canister filled with liquid.

"We’re getting you out of here, Commander," she said, her voice steady, though there was a flicker of fear in her eyes. She unscrewed the top of the canister, and with one swift motion, brought it to his mouth. "Swallow this."

Sandle recoiled violently as her hands made contact with his skin. A shock of instinct surged through him, his body tensing in protest. To be touched, especially in such a crude, forceful manner, was the greatest of all inappropriate interactions in his culture. It was a sacred act, reserved only for the moment of birth, procreation and death. His people believed that to be touched beyond those moments was a dire insult, a mortal affront that, in normal circumstances, would have demanded a duel to the death to restore honor.

But this was war, and Sandle wasn’t among his own kind. His mind, trained by years of military discipline, recalled that humans were different. They were social creatures, warm blooded mammals driven by connection and feelings. Beings who thrived on physical interaction and intense emotions. For them, touch was an absolute necessity, an expression of care, a means of protection, a bond.

Sandle breathed deeply, trying to calm the outrage simmering beneath his skin. The old instincts clawed at him, demanding retribution, but his training prevailed. There would be no duel today. No satisfying of ancient codex of honor.

"Swallow it," the human female repeated, her tone more insistent now. Her eyes, though determined, softened for a moment. "It’ll heal you. We can’t carry you out like this."

His muscles tensed with each jarring motion as she pressed the canister to his lips. With great effort, he forced his mouth open, letting the liquid slide down his throat. It was bitter and strange, but almost immediately, the healing effects began to take hold. His wounds, though not completely healed, began to close, and the sharpest edges of his pain dulled to a bearable throb. Medinon fluids, a highly expensive medical treatment that could heal any immediate wounds.

Behind the lieutenant, two more humans stood guard, their weapons trained on the dark corridor outside. Their faces were set in grim determination as they fired at the occasional drone that attempted to break through. They were defending him, Sandle realized. These humans, so small, so fragile compared to his own kind. They were risking their lives to save him.

The lieutenant looked down at him with concern. "Can you stand?"

Sandle shook his head, his voice raspy. "No... My legs... they’ve severed the connection to my nervous system. I am paralyzed, waist down."

The female cursed under her breath, her gaze darting to her comrades who continued firing into the hallway. "We’ll have to carry him out," she said, glancing back at them. The two soldiers nodded without hesitation, one of them moving to assist her in lifting Sandle’s body from the cold, blood-stained floor.

Sandle braced himself for what came next. When the female crouched in front of him, positioning herself so that he could be hoisted onto her back, a wave of discomfort rippled through him. His elongated limbs, too large and awkward for her small frame, dangled ungracefully as they tied him to her with makeshift straps.

The closeness was unbearable. Every movement she made, every small shift of her body, sent fresh waves of discomfort through him. Intensely personal and invasive. It was a far cry from the accepted state of distance he was used to.

Still, Sandle forced himself to remain still, suppressing the violent indignation bubbling beneath the surface. His people had their ways, their customs, but this was not the time for pride or propriety. This was war. And in war, survival came before honor.

As they tied the last strap, securing him to the lieutenant’s back, she stood slowly, adjusting to his weight. "Hang on, Commander," she said with a grunt. "We’re getting you out of here."

Sandle’s elongated fingers twitched, though he could not feel his legs. His mind churned with a mix of emotions, shame at being reduced to this state, gratitude for the humans who were risking their lives for him, and a deep, abiding sorrow for the countless lives that had already been lost.

As they made their way out of the cell, gunfire echoed through the narrow corridors, accompanied by the sound of boots pounding against the steel floors. The reek of gunpowder and blood filled the air as the human soldiers cut down more Xi drones, their eyes hardened with resolve.

"Commander Sandle secured," the lieutenant spoke into her comms again, her breath ragged. "We’re moving toward extraction. ETA seven minutes."

"Let’s move!"

They moved swiftly through the compound, every step bringing them closer to freedom. Sandle could feel the tension radiating off the humans. These warriors who had fought for a world that had already been ravaged by war.

Their bravery stirred something deep within him. He had seen many species fall before the Xi. He had witnessed their courage crumble under the weight of hopelessness. But these humans... they were different. Even in the face of certain death, they fought with a determination that was as alien to Sandle as he was to them.

And yet, they fought for him now. Sandle calculated their probability of escape and grimly determined that it was virtually nonexistent, near zero. Sandle heard and saw the chaos of war, all along the bleak halls of this fortress were the ruined forms of Drones, organic and metallic. Amongst them were the fallen human soldiers.

The human carried me with determined strength, her small frame somehow enduring the awkward weight of my alien body as we pressed forward through the chaos.

Gunfire erupted nearby, and I felt the jarring vibrations of each round fired, each drone that fell to the relentless human assault. Though my view was limited, the sound and feel of battle were unmistakable, metallic bodies hitting the ground with cold finality, the stench of gunpowder thick in the air. The humans moved with brutal efficiency; their instincts honed by years of survival in this endless war.

“Alert! Enemy reinforcements inbound from the east! They know!” Sargent Sandra Madra’s voice cut through the comms, edged with tension. The situation was escalating, the enemy closing in on all sides on the surface. “Interdiction teams are deploying to delay them!”

The soldiers around me exchanged clipped confirmations, their voices hard with determination. I could feel their focus, their desperation to see this mission through, to get me to safety. We pressed on through the winding corridors of the Xi compound, a labyrinthine nightmare of steel and darkness. Alarms blared incessantly, and the ever-present whir of drones echoed behind us, growing closer.

As we turned a corner, we passed a group of human prisoners, chained to the walls, their eyes wild with fear and desperation. Their voices rose in a cacophony of pleading, their hands outstretched toward us. “Help us! Please! Don’t leave us!”

I felt a deep pang of sorrow as I watched them, helpless and terrified, their lives hanging by a thread. I could see the despair in their eyes, the knowledge that we were their only hope. But the soldiers around me didn’t stop. They couldn’t. Their focus was on extraction, on completing the mission. There was no room for pity, no space to risk everything for a futile rescue.

The human carrying me didn’t falter. She pressed on; her steps unwavering as the cries of the prisoners faded behind us. I understood their decision, their cold calculation. This was war, and in war, difficult choices had to be made. But even as I accepted this truth, the sorrow of it bore down on me. Those humans would die, left behind in a place of torment. I could feel their anguish, their hopelessness.

My kind would have stopped. We would have tried to save them, even if it meant risking everything. But these humans... they had learned the bitter lessons of survival in a way that my people had never fully grasped. There was no room for compassion in their war, only the brutal logic of necessity.

As the corridor stretched before us, I couldn’t help but wonder if this coldness, this hardened resolve, was what would ultimately save them.

"This is rear guard ten! The enemy has destroyed our ride out of here! We are overrun! We... ahhhh!" The soldier’s voice cut off abruptly, replaced by static and the echo of gunfire. Silence.

"Holdout!" Another voice screamed through the radio, tinged with fear and fury. The soldiers around me exchanged anxious glances, their confidence shaken. I could feel it, the creeping realization that victory was slipping away, dissolving into the darkness that surrounded us.

The squad leader tried to rally them. "We’ll get new transport! Stay alive!" Her voice was steady, but there was an edge of doubt beneath it, a sliver of uncertainty that made the order feel more like a plea. They were grasping for something, anything, to cling to.

I knew better.

"No..." I rasped, my voice cutting through the haze of pain and discomfort. The human female carrying me turned her head slightly, her profiled eye catching mine, fear and determination written across her young face. I forced myself to push past the discomfort and focused on the mission at hand.

"There is another option..." I continued, each word measured and deliberate. "Take me to my ship. It is still here, two levels down. It is our best option to achieve mission success." I let my words settle for a moment before I delivered the truth. "However, it is a one-man vessel. Once I leave, there is a 98 percent probability that all of you will perish."

The cold calculation hung in the air like a death sentence. The truth of the situation was harsh, but it was undeniable. I could feel the weight of their silent struggle, the instinctual pull to stay together as a unit, to protect each other, and the cold, hard logic that told them they might be sacrificing themselves for a mission greater than their lives.

They ducked into cover, gunfire cutting through the air as drones bore down on us with relentless precision. The soldiers huddled close, hurried discussions slipping through the comms as they weighed their grim reality.

Finally, the officer’s voice came through, calm but ironclad. "Get him to the ship." There was no hesitation now, only the hard resolve of soldiers who knew their fate was sealed but still had a duty to perform.

With quiet acceptance, the soldiers fell into formation again. The young human woman still bore my weight on her back as we moved forward, their steps quick and methodical. They knew what this meant. They knew they were running headlong toward death.

And yet, they continued.

"Hold on tight, Commander. We’ll get you to your ship. One way or another." Said the lieutenant, her breath steadies, her augments keeping her mind and body in lock step with the mission.

Through the relentless gunfire, the thunder of explosions, and the shadows and drones that stalked us, we pressed on. Down and toward my ship. Toward a slim chance that, even if they fell, I might escape and with me, a spark of hope that humanity might still find a way to survive.

The sounds of battle were everywhere. Gunfire cracked and echoed through the narrow, claustrophobic halls of the compound, the sharp barks of human weapons contrasting with the mechanical hum of the enemy drones. Smoke hung thick in the air, a stench of burning metal and seared flesh that filled every breath. My wounds throbbed, though the treatment dulled the worst of the pain. I was clear-minded now, but my mind was troubled.

I had never been this close to human combat. I was used to coordinating from a distance, strategic oversight, the cold calculus of war. This... this was different. This was raw, emotional. It was personal.

The human female carried me with a fierce determination, her small frame strained under my weight, yet her pace never slowed, her augments holding her fast. Around us, her squad engaged the enemy. Small, insect-like drones skittering along the walls, their laser weapons firing with terrifying precision. The null shields emanating from the human combatants dissipating the searing energy beams.

Ahead of us, a human soldier cried out as his chest erupted in a red mist. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, smoking. Another human, barely more than an adolescent by my species’ standards, leaped over the corpse of his comrade, his rifle smashing into a drone's sensor module before firing relentlessly. The drone crumbled into a smoking heap of parts.

"Keep moving! Do not stop! Not for anything or anyone!" the lieutenant shouted; her voice raw from exertion.

They fought for me. The thought weighed on me like a mountain. I had expected humans to be resourceful, perhaps even determined, but this... This was something else. Their bravery, their willingness to die, to bleed so that I might live, struck me deeply. Each step they took, every round they fired, was to ensure my survival, even as the odds of their own survival dwindled by the second.

The air around us grew hotter as drones closed in, their red sensors glowing like infernal eyes. They moved with mechanical precision, driven by the cold logic of the Xi localized AI, relentless in their pursuit of extermination of the invaders.

And then, I saw, true bravery and valor.

A drone appeared at the far end of the hallway, its weapon locking onto me with lethal intent. A chill ran through me. I was the target. The Nexus had marked me for death, just as it had marked so many before me.

The human carrying me staggered as if sensing the threat, her body tensing under the strain of the fight. But before she could react, another soldier, a human male, darted into my line of sight. His onboard null shield clearly failed. His eyes locked on mine, wide, filled with fear, but there was no hesitation in his actions.

In that instant, he moved. Without thought for his own life, he placed himself between me and the drone. I watched in horror as the drone fired. Red mist filled the air. The soldier collapsed, his body a lifeless heap on the ground, blood pouring from his wound, along with smoke. He never even screamed. The sacrifice was sudden and complete, horrifying in its silence.

Another soldier took down the drone before it could fire again, the metallic body sparking as it collapsed. They kept moving, dragging me forward, their voices a distant hum in my ears. My mind, however, was locked on the man who had just given his life for mine.

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A strange pang surged within me. I had witnessed sacrifice before, seen it from the detached perspective of a commander. Tangible valor. Such an extraordinary people, humanity.

I suspected that this was the essence of humanity. Their ability to act on instinct, to protect each other even when it defied logic. To stand against insurmountable odds, to fight, even when defeat was certain. The bravery of this species, their willingness to die for something greater than themselves, shook me to my core.

I had come here to help them, to offer them a chance in this brutal war. But it was they who had shown me something deeper, something far more profound. I felt a strange sense of guilt, not for surviving, but for realizing they had taught me a strength I had not anticipated nor possessed.

As we pressed on through the chaos, the sounds of battle grew louder. More drones fell, more human voices cried out in agony and death. But they never faltered. They never stopped fighting, never stopped protecting me, a stranger, an alien among them. They fought with a kind of courage that transcended fear and reason.

They fought with heart.

The hangar was chaos as we burst through the final door, and I was thrust into the open expanse. Humans moved around me, battered, their numbers now greatly diminished, but their resolve unshaken. My ship, thank the stars, was still intact. But it wasn’t untouched. It was mounted in what looked like a mechanical operating theater, cranes, cutting tools, and diagnostic equipment littered the area. They had been preparing to take it apart.

The last of the enemy drones crumbled in a heap before us. "All clear!" one of the humans shouted.

The human lieutenant carrying me stumbled forward, her breath ragged from exertion. "Commander Sandle," she said, her voice hoarse but steady, "can you open the hatch?"

Before I could respond, my ship recognized my presence and allies. The hatch slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the cockpit. Relief flooded through me, even as my body throbbed with pain. They moved quickly, unstrapping me and placing me with great care into the cockpit seat. Despite the urgency, there was a strange tenderness in their movements a quiet respect for me, a alien they had fought so hard to save.

My hands moved instinctively over the control panels, issuing commands, inputting the necessary sequences to engage the ship’s systems. As the power flickered on and the familiar hum of the ship’s core began to resonate through the hull, I felt a momentary wave of calm. I was almost there. Almost free.

"Get him dressed, there! A flight suit. Help me put it on him," the lieutenant ordered, and the soldiers rushed to comply.

As they pulled out the flight suit and carefully dressed me, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. They treated me with dignity even though they knew this would likely be their end. I would remember this for as long as I lived.

The lieutenant knelt beside me as I finished the last sequence of takeoff protocols. She looked at me, her face streaked with dirt and blood, her eyes burning with a fierce determination. "How much time, Commander?" she asked.

I glanced at the controls. "Nine minutes," I said.

“Understood, good luck sir.” She said and saluted. Moving away from the ship.

The hatch sealed with a hiss, and the ship’s shields activated, the energy fields humming to life around the vessel. It wasn’t much time. Not for them.

The lieutenant wasted no time at all. She turned and barked orders at her remaining soldiers. "Move that crap over here! Make yourselves some cover! Cover those doorways! Lay down the last of your claymores! Align your null shield around the ship! Move!"

The humans sprang into action, piling debris and equipment to create makeshift barriers around the doorways. Their movements were quick, efficient, though I could sense the exhaustion in their limbs. Outside the hangar, in the distance, I could hear the hum of more enemy drones approaching. The oculus high above, the only connection to the surface, revealed only the black void of the night. They were coming.

"Rear guards! Do you register?" one of the soldiers shouted into his comm. Silence answered him. The rear guard was gone, lost to the swarm that was bearing down on us.

The hum of machines grew louder. The humans had little time left, but they fought with everything they had. I could feel the energy in the air, the desperation and courage, as they prepared for the counterassault.

The lieutenant stood tall, tears glistening in her eyes as she faced her soldiers, her voice rising above the chaos. "Soldiers of Earth! We hold this position with our lives! For Earth! For Humanity!"

A roar of defiance erupted from the soldiers, their voices echoing through the hangar as they braced themselves for the onslaught. The machines came moments later, pouring through the doorways in a relentless tide. They crashed against the humans’ makeshift defenses, weapons blazing, red eyes glowing with the cold malice of the Xi AI that controlled them. The humans fought with a ringed defense, forming a protective circle around my ship as it powered up, cutting down wave after wave of drones with a savagery born of a besieged desperate species.

I watched from the cockpit, my hands still moving over the controls, but my mind… my mind was with them. These humans, who had shown such bravery, such defiance in the face of certain death. I had come to help them, but they were the ones who had come to help me. Their sacrifice burned itself into my memory, and I knew, as the ship’s systems fully engaged and I prepared to leave, that I would carry their deaths with me forever.

The time ticked down. The ship hummed with life. But all I could hear were the cries of the soldiers outside, fighting for a world that might never be saved. They fought on, raging and furious.

"All systems online," I whispered to myself, the cockpit filling with light as the engines roared to life. I could feel the ship’s power coursing through me, ready to break free of this hellish place. I did. But for them… the humans… it was the end.

The ship shot through the oculus like a bolt of lightning, breaking free into the chaotic sky. My senses reeled as I was thrust into the heart of an overwhelming aerial engagement. The air was thick with the roar of engines, the sharp pulse of weapons fire filling every corner of my awareness.

Around me, forty Xi fighter craft darted and twisted through the night’s sky, their deadly formations cutting through the atmosphere with terrifying precision. Engaged with them were twenty human ships, sleek and formidable, their hulls gleaming with nanoplast, a precious resource. My mind instantly calculated the staggering cost of this battle. This engagement alone had consumed 81% of the nanoplast reserves in North America.

And they were losing.

I fought to focus, shaking off the rising dread that clawed at the edges of my mind. The Xi were everywhere, assailing us, but I knew my objective: escape. Escape and survive, but not at the expense of these humans who had bled and died for me.

Two enemy ships broke from the swarm, veering dangerously close, their weapons charging to fire. Instinct took over. My hands flew across the controls, locking onto their signatures, and with precision, I unleashed bursts of plasma energy.

The ships exploded into fiery wrecks before they could even discharge their weapons. My ship darted between the debris, the cockpit shaking from the concussive blasts that rippled through the air. I swung my ship around, locking onto three more targets and eliminating them in quick succession.

The threat was diminishing, but the battle was far from over. The Xi AI was still watching, calculating, adapting. Every move I made was analyzed, every shift of the battle reconfigured in its endless pursuit of extermination.

As I took down another ship, I noticed two human crafts had formed up behind me, executing tight maneuvers to cover my escape. Their voices crackled over the comms, clear and resolute despite the chaos.

"That's enough, sir. Fly to safety. Our wing mates will handle the rest."

"Angels Eight and Twelve covering your six, sir. We'll escort you to base seven."

A cold chill ran through me. I had information they didn’t. Base Seven... no…

"Negative!" I snapped, urgency sharpening my voice. "Base Seven is compromised. It was where I was supposed to land. There's a mole in command.” I flipped the comms to general broadcast, initiating a general order to all forces on Earth. “Attention all forces on Earth! General Command order: Execute Fifes in the Dark." Then I closed the channel.

‘Fifes in the Dark', lockdown protocol, a desperate effort. For the next three months, every human holdout would cease combat operations, reposition themselves, and isolate. To root out the security breaches that threatened to tear them apart from within. It was a dangerous gamble, but one that had to be taken. A gamble that the enemy will exploit.

"More bogies inbound!" Said Angel twelve. Another wave of fighter drones streaked toward us from the east, their weapons flaring in the distance.

"Angels Twelve and Six, reinforcements have been diverted to intercept. Tail the commander until we can get him somewhere safe," said an officer over the comms.

The battle was a blur of motion behind us, dodging and firing units, the enemy pressing in from all sides. The Xi were relentless, their numbers overwhelming. The human wings held them back from pursuing us.

"Where are we heading sir? Tokyo?" one of the human pilots suggested, his voice tense, yet steady.

I ran the calculations swiftly, processing the latest data. The Xi were spreading fast, but Tokyo... Tokyo had held strong. Its defenses were still intact, its position secure. It was our best option.

"Tokyo," I confirmed, feeling the lack of time. "We make for Tokyo." It would be a long flight, where the enemy would have plenty of opportunities to stop us. Without hesitation, the human pilots acknowledged, and we pushed forward, leaving the arial battle behind us.

“Angels, close in!” I commanded over the comms. I could hear the tension in their voices as they acknowledged the order. Their sleek crafts glided through the air, tightening their formation around my ship. My hands danced across the console, activating the stealth field. It shimmered briefly, then enveloped all three of us, shielding us from enemy sensors.

"Stealth field engaged. We’ll be invisible to their tracking systems but keep tight. Any stray wing tips, and we’re exposed."

We flew in silence for nearly an hour, the jagged peaks of the Rocky Mountains stretched below us. The human pilots remained disciplined, keeping close despite the fatigue I could sense in their voices. I scanned the skies constantly, watching for any sign of enemy interference.

Then it happened.

A sudden alert blared across my console, red flashing across the screen. From the ground below, missiles streaked up toward us, carving paths of smoke through the sky.

"Incoming missiles!" I shouted, but it was too late.

Angel 12 was hit, her ship torn apart in an explosion that lit up the darkened skies like a flare. I flinched as the blast wave buffeted my ship, instinctively pulling back on the controls to evade.

"They’ve got us painted!" Angel 8 said stunned.

I felt the cold realization settle in my gut. A tracking device. Of course, they’d placed a tracker on my ship. My ship had been in enemy hands for days, captured and compromised. This wasn’t just bad luck; this was my mistake. I should have run a purge protocol and I had led my escorts into a trap. I curse myself mightily for this unforgivable oversight!

Another wave of missiles streaked through the air, the screech of their propulsion systems deafening in the night. Angel Eight fired off a rapid succession of countermeasures, taking down two of the missiles in brilliant flashes of light.

But the third found its mark.

I watched, helpless, as Angel Eight took a direct hit. The craft buckled under the impact, the explosion sending it spiraling down toward the rugged mountains below. I could hear the pilot’s panicked breathing over the comms, the brief sound of him struggling with the controls before his signal cut out entirely. I watched from the cockpit has his craft disappeared through a cloud layer and a flash of the impact below glowing though the clouds.

The fourth missile came streaking toward my ship, and despite my best attempts to evade, it struck hard. The blast sent my ship into a violent spin, alarms blaring as the cockpit was breached. A sharp pain tore through me as shrapnel sliced into my side, hot blood spilling across the controls. My vision blurred, the edges of my consciousness beginning to fade.

I forced myself to stay awake, my onboard augments activating sustaining my consciousness. I couldn’t let go. Not yet. I fought to keep the ship level, my hands trembling as I manipulated the controls. The systems were failing, the hull was breached, and my body was giving out. But I pushed through the agony, desperate to keep flying just a little longer.

“Computer, scan for human life signs,” I croaked through the blood pooling in my mouth. Every word felt like a blade scraping against my throat. The computer hesitated for a moment, a brief pause that I could barely comprehend through the haze of pain.

“Probability of finding human life signs in the current region are minimal,” the computer’s calm voice responded. “This unit recommends…”

“Computer… initiate scanning… set to continuous beam,” I interrupted, gritting my teeth. I could feel the life draining out of me with each passing second. I had to find someone, anyone. My hands fumbled across the cracked console, pushing buttons with what little strength I had left.

The computer obeyed, and the scanner began to hum, running through multiple cycles. I could feel the ship’s systems struggling, my location broadcasting into the void for anyone, or anything to find. The enemy would come. They always came.

I was dying. And I couldn’t die until I handed off my mission. I had to find a human. A connection. Someone who could carry on the fight.

With my luck, my bad luck, a human concept I had adopted. I doubted I would live long enough to see that happen. But I had to try. The pain was becoming unbearable, my vision darkening as I fought against the inevitable.

“Scan complete,” the computer chimed in. “One human life sign detected.”

Relief and dread flooded me in equal measure.

“Plot… plot a course… prepare for emergency landing,” I gasped, each word a battle to form. The pain flared through my chest as I engaged the controls, guiding the failing ship toward the detected human. The ship responded sluggishly, the systems on the verge of failure as I struggled to hold it together.

My last chance. As the ship descended through the night sky, this one human, whoever they were, would be my only hope.

The ship plummeted through the atmosphere, shaking violently as systems failed one by one. My vision blurred from the pain, and I struggled to keep the craft steady. Fire trailed behind me as I descended toward the jagged landscape below. The ship's alarms screamed in my ears, a cacophony of flashing lights and dying systems warning me of my impending doom.

I forced my eyes open, focusing on the visual display in front of me. Below, I could make out the shape of a small valley, nestled between towering mountains, and scattered across the landscape were massive wind turbines human-made constructs meant to capture the power of the wind. Their giant blades still, oblivious to the impending disaster barreling toward them.

"Course locked," the computer reported, its voice cold and steady despite the chaos. "Emergency landing imminent. Prepare for impact."

The ship groaned as I fought for control, wrenching it away from the worst of the mountains. I aimed for the valley, hoping it would cushion the crash. But I could barely hold on. The pain in my chest was a searing inferno, and blood trickled from the wounds that would soon claim my life.

As we neared the valley, the turbines grew larger, their blades like death traps waiting to slice us apart. I adjusted the course, but the ship was too damaged, the response too slow. I gripped the controls tighter, bracing for impact.

Then it happened. The first turbine loomed ahead, and there was no avoiding it. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the inevitable.

CRASH.

The ship collided with one of the turbine blades, the impact sending us spiraling. Metal screeched as the turbine’s blade sheared off a section of the ship, spinning it off course. I was thrown against the cockpit wall, my head slamming against the console as everything spun out of control. Sparks flew, and the ship groaned like a dying beast as it was torn apart, bits of debris raining down on the valley below.

But we kept falling.

CRASH.

Another impact. Another turbine. This time, the ship’s spine bent, sending me into an uncontrollable dive. The valley rushed up to meet me, and in those final moments, I barely managed to pull the ship level before the ship slammed into the ground.

The ship hit the earth hard, skidding across the valley floor. The turbines around us blurred by or toppled, the ship tearing up the ground as we plowed forward. Finally, we came to a stop, flames, smoke and debris settling around in the stillness that followed.

I gasped for breath, my vision fading in and out as I tried to take stock of the situation. The ship’s flight systems were offline, the alarms had gone silent, and I could hear nothing but the creaking of the damaged hull. Power still on, thank the stars. My body screamed in agony, but I fought to stay conscious. This was it. I had to act.

"Computer… sensors… scan for human life," I rasped, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own labored breathing.

The sensors flickered to life, and the visual feed on the remaining display slowly came into focus. There, in the distance, I saw him, a human, lying amidst the wreckage and the towering turbines. He was small compared to the destruction around him, and I watched as he looked around in a daze. The human was about to flee, panic etched into his features. I had to stop him. I had to keep my mission alive!

Then, a thought crossed my mind, a terrible thought, one that sent a thrill of terror through me even in the depths of my pain. I couldn’t let him go. Not now. I didn’t have time for negotiations or diplomacy. I needed him. I had the means. I started my HUD within my mind’s eyes.

I opened a hidden program deep within my augment mainframe, one that had been forbidden by my people, a crime of the highest order. As I activated it, the ship’s computer immediately fought back, alarms blaring again as it tried to halt the process.

"Illegal program detected!" the computer screamed. "Warning! Activation of a mind control program has been detected. This is an illegal act, cease at once!"

But I was past caring. My hands shook as I input the commands, bypassing the safety protocols. The computer’s protests grew louder, its systems fighting desperately to stop me, but I forced it down. The program took over, flooding the mainframe.

"Mind control system… online," I whispered, knowing the gravity of what I was doing.

Microscopic nanomachines were deployed from the remains of the ship, beams of light carrying them toward the human. The scanners tracked him, and I watched as the beams made contact, enveloping him in a faint glow.

I saw it happen through the ship's sensors—the nanomachines infiltrated his body, crawling into his bloodstream, finding their way to his brain. The human froze, his panic replaced with a strange, vacant look as the nanomachines took hold. He was mine now, his mind no longer his own.

"The ultimate crime has been committed," the computer repeated over and over, its electronic voice filled with something almost like sorrow.

But I silenced the computer with a final command, severing its connection to the ship. My own onboard systems took over, and I felt a hollow victory settle over me. I had crossed a line, a line my people had vowed never to cross. But it didn’t matter anymore. I had to survive. I had to complete my mission. Too many lives had been spent on my mission and far too many more depended on me now, to fail for principles, was a greater crime.

The calculus of war.

As the human turned toward the ship, his movements no longer his own, I felt a wave of regret wash over me. This was not how it was supposed to be. This was not the future I had fought for. There was no turning back now.

“Bring him to me,” I whispered, the weight of my crime settling into my bones as the human obeyed.

As the human approached the cockpit, I could feel the weight of what I was about to do. I was dying, my body failing me moment by moment. But there was still one thing I could do. One last desperate attempt to ensure humanity’s survival.

The human moved with an eerie, robotic grace, his steps unsteady but sure as he came closer. I worked quickly, my hands trembling as I prepared the syringe. Inside it was the serum, the embryonic seed of a new future. A future that might save humanity if I could give it time to grow and evolve within this man. I had no choice but to use him.

As I made the final preparations, my onboard computer ran thousands of possible contingencies, decision trees blooming in my mind as the calculations came to life. I encoded everything, the memories, training programs, the knowledge, the mission and then merged into the serum. The human would understand my intentions once the transformation began. But I knew, deep down, that he would hate me for this. He would despise me for what I had done, for robbing him of his will, for using him as a vessel.

Yet, it was for the greater good. Humanity deserved to live. I believed, no, I knew that they were the key to ending this terrible galactic war. The Xi could be defeated, and these humans, so fragile yet so filled with potential, could be the ones to do it. If only they had the tools, the power to fight back.

The human stopped in front of the cockpit, his face blank, his eyes dull. I spoke to him though the mind control interface and with a command, I had him approach me and I thrusted the syringe into his chest. The needle slid in, and I injected the serum deep into his bloodstream. It was done.

For a brief moment, I feared I had killed him. His body jerked violently, his muscles twitching and spasming as the serum took hold. I watched, helpless, as he convulsed in pain, his body rejecting the foreign material. Guilt washed over me. What if I had been wrong? What if this serum, meant to save him, had instead doomed him?

But then, his body stilled. His breathing slowed, becoming deep and steady. He was alive. The serum had not killed him. Relief surged through me, but it was quickly tempered by the knowledge of what came next.

I issued my last command, triggering the program I had sworn never to use. It reached into the human’s mind, shutting down his higher reasoning functions, silencing the part of him that made him human, with an interrupt condition for the nanite machines inside him to shut down. All that remained was the primal core of his mind, the animal instincts buried deep within the layers of human sentience.

He blinked, the vacant look in his eyes replaced with something wild, feral. He was no longer the man I had seen approaching the cockpit. Now a creature driven by instinct and fear. The mind control was no longer needed; a survival instinct had taken over. Danger! Run! In English I commanded as such, fear, danger. Flee.

The human stumbled back, his gaze darting around the ruined valley. I could see the confusion and terror in his movements. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. He couldn’t. Not yet. But he would survive. That much I was certain of.

Without a word, the human turned and fled into the night, disappearing into the shadows of the mountains. He clambered onto a small vehicle and fled. His figure fading into the darkness.

I watched him go, a deep sorrow settling over me. This was not how I had wanted things to unfold. But the mission had to succeed. Humanity had to survive. And perhaps, someday, that human would come to understand. He would see the necessity of my actions with the memory of this day.

But I knew, in my heart, that he would hate me for it. For taking his life, for reshaping him into something new, a living weapon. The ultimate crime had been committed. And I, Sandle Xor, would die knowing that I had crossed a line from which there was no return.

I awoke with a start, my body stiff and cold, the vivid dream still clinging to my mind like a thick fog. Everything was white and endless. I blinked, disoriented, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I thought I was nowhere, suspended in some strange limbo between life and death.

But then, I felt the cold. The biting chill that crept into my bones. I realized I was covered in snow, thick layers blanketing me, pressing down. I must’ve passed out here in the snowstorm, lying exposed in the night.

Groaning, I forced myself up, rising from the bed of snow. It was morning now, the storm had passed, and the world around me was crisp and silent. Everything was so bright that it hurt to look at. The dream, no, the vision, of Sandle Xor and the humans who had fought for him lingered in my mind, so clear and detailed that it felt more like a memory than a dream. I could still hear their voices, feel the tension in the air, see the determination in their eyes.

"Warning: environmental hazard… core temperature down to critical level, seek shelter immediately," a notification blared in my vision. I blinked, the urgency of it cutting through the haze in my head. I was freezing to death.

It was a good thing that my body could withstand a lot, a normal human would have frozen to death in minutes out here. I noted my ambient temperature in my… Hud display, -3.1°

Shivering, I trudged back through the snow, heading toward the cabin, bare footed too. My legs felt like lead, my muscles stiff from the cold. Every step was a struggle, but I forced myself forward, the memory of the alien’s sacrifice keeping my mind occupied.

Sandle. Brave, determined, willing to do anything to help humanity survive. The vision had been so real… his regret, his sorrow, his desperation. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had truly lived his last moments. His hope for humanity was as real to me as his guilt for a crime he had committed against me. He was no villain, despite what he had done. He was a soldier in a war I barely understood, a war that had consumed the lives of countless people, human and alien alike.

I reached the cabin door, my hands numb as I fumbled with the latch, finally pushing it open. I stumbled inside and kicked the door shut behind me. The warmth was gone, the fire dead. Teeth chattering, I went straight to the hearth and knelt down, relighting the fire with trembling fingers. As the small flames crackled to life, I sat back and let the growing heat wash over me, my body slowly thawing from the cold.

I watched the flames ignite and grow.

Sandle Xor. I wouldn’t hate him, not now and never again. He had been brave, so damned brave. His people had fought and died for humanity. And those soldiers… those human soldiers… they had given their lives to ensure I’d be here now to carry this burden. Whatever was inside of me, whatever the purpose of this transformation, it had come at the highest of prices.

I stared into the fire, seeing the war I had witnessed from a shared memory. The soldier who had shielded Sandle… who had thrown his life away to protect an alien… the soldier had died to save him, though he never knew Sandle. And I, of course, would never know him.

I felt his sacrifice. I thought of the rest, the determined lieutenant who rallied her soldiers to face the final assault, they form a defensive ring around the ship and… fought… to the death. I wouldn’t let all of that sacrifice be in vain. For him. For them. For humanity. I need to…

"So... I'm sorry about..." said a loud voice from fuckin' nowhere!

"WHIHOO!" I yelled, instinctively toppling over the couch in a wild panic. My heart hammered against my chest as I scrambled to figure out where the hell the voice had come from.

I glanced around, wide-eyed, breathing hard. My gaze landed on the laptop, half off the coffee table where I’d shoved it away in frustration. The screen was partially closed but still flickering with light.

Cursing myself for being startled so badly. I approached the laptop, flipping the lid open. The display brightened, and there, on the screen, was a face. A young human woman’s face. Beautiful, wearing a white t-shirt, with a pixie cut and soft features. She looked at me, her expression sheepish.

"Hi... I'm Mia, sorry for startling you" she said, her voice timid and apologetic.

I just stared, trying to reconcile the calm, almost casual introduction with everything I’d just been through. I stood there, staring at the screen. My hands trembled, not from fear, only everything that had happened. Everything I now knew.

"So... you're the AI... that all those people died protecting, a new weapon to defend humanity?" My voice was low, barely more than a whisper.

Her face softened, a sadness in her eyes that was... human. "Yes," Mia answered simply.

I swallowed hard. "And you want me to fight in this... war… in the shadows? To save humanity from extinction?"

There was a pause, her digital face unwavering. Then she nodded.

"Yes." She said hopeful.

The memories of Sandle’s sacrifice, the soldiers who gave their lives, the betrayal of those who chose to align with the Xi, and the cold, hard truth that humanity was on the brink of extinction.

I took a deep breath, clenching my fists as the embers of anger still smoldered inside me. But this time, there was something else too. Something clearer.

Purpose.

"Alright," I said, my voice steady now.

"I'll fight."