Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: January 14, 2137

Seven thousand human ships moved in a wide arc, closing in on the Kolshian drones. Manned enemy vessels were also hooking into the fray; the larger frames and bridge structures gave away which ones were traditional craft. These foes were unafraid, perhaps because their commanders were part of the conspiracy. Commonwealth automatons that were struck by our missiles had gotten their shields back up, while we dawdled rallying the Duerten.

The carrier Marcel and I were on veered to the flank, giving a wide berth to the heart of the action. Terran fighters and cruisers, the ones that survived saving our frazzled allies, veered back to escort us. Other manned vessels were transporting more humans to different targets, with the bravest few popping into enemy ranks. The Kolshians preemptively had FTL disruptors up, having learned of the primates’ jump into the Arxur’s ranks at Sillis. Our boarders had to get up close to an enemy craft the old-fashioned way.

“Transport 8-A, you’re en route to a civilian research station. There was a small team of human doctors there as well, studying the effects of Dossur plants on our physiology,” a commander’s voice growled through the shuttle’s speakers. “We presume they are dead, since they weren’t counted on any evac shuttles. However, your mission is to rescue any Dossur or humans you find on board. Watch your fire, three other boarding parties are working different sides of the station.”

I winced to myself, not wanting to imagine what the Kolshians had done to innocent predators. If those victims had survived for three weeks, that might be worse than a quick death; the Federation didn’t shy away from starving or torturing anything with forward-facing eyes. Nikonus had denounced Sovlin’s actions during Noah’s speech, but talk was cheap. There was no telling what a liar like him would actually do.

Marcel’s eyes darkened. “When I signed up for the exchange program, I was so excited about extraterrestrial life. Peacekeepers keep peace; we’re weren’t supposed to be slaughtering aliens who tortured us. I’m glad I have you, Slanek, else I might think all Feds were murderous.”

“We’re not Federation,” I snapped immediately. “We left them, and we don’t want to be associated with them. They called us weak for centuries. They are lying, deceiving fucks.”

“Sorry. I guess I meant every species in the Federation, at the time of our arrival on the galactic scene. Regardless, I think we all know whatever happened to those humans wasn’t good.”

“Let’s hope we don’t get the details spelled out. It makes my blood boil, how they treat your kind like animals! Looking back, I don’t know how I ever thought you were dangerous.”

“Don’t discount us now. We are dangerous, just not to our friends!”

The transport began powering up, and I reminded myself where the oxygen masks were in case of a depressurization. My bulletproof vest was tailored to the Venlil form, along with a small personal shielding system; it was supposed to mitigate environmental hazards, such as radiation or energy projectiles. I also had a customizable helmet, fitted with a camera for command review. The Terrans had poured everything into their research and development, after Earth.

I still remember sitting in that naval headquarters, and seeing city after city fall on the broadcasts. It wasn’t that long ago. Those poor, poor humans, who begged for peace to the moment the first bomb dropped…

Despite the fact that I was on edge from the residual memories, a reminder of how my empathetic hunters would be eradicated without remorse jolted me into combat readiness. The binocular eyes around me were icy with determination, and I could see the soldiers flipping the killing switch in real time. Humans wouldn’t take kindly to their pack members being slaughtered en masse. The sooner we could reach the station, the better.

It was possible for me to watch the viewport in my periphery; I no longer needed blinders for deployments. The space battle was ongoing in full-force, with both sides hurling shield-breaking missiles at each other. UN shielding flickered out, though the predators were prepared for that eventuality. They dispensed platforms in front of them, like laying out a red carpet.

Walls materialized in front of the ships, enough to cover the front line’s full height from various angles. The Kolshians found their plasma munitions pummeling hardy fortifications; it was difficult to land any strikes against the humans. The primates procured layers of defenses, which the enemy would need to strip away for a kill. I’d seen Terran-crafted weapons, but this was the first defensive innovation they’d shown off.

The Duerten were revitalized, chipping in with tepid shots and missiles. The humans, leading the charge, chucked a new wave of nanodrones at the Kolshians. The enemy saw the miniatures coming this time, but didn’t have an answer to stop their approach. It was like trying to shoot an enemy perched atop a speeding car, kilometers away. No targeting system or algorithm was programmed for that; AI adaptiveness couldn’t drum up a solution that swiftly.

Marcel grinned at the viewport. “Kolshian fleet? We’re here to talk to you about your car's extended warranty.”

Explosions rocked the enemy line at the end of his sentence, and gruff cackles rippled across our transport. I found myself laughing at this destruction alongside the predators, which was further proof of my unwell mind. The nanodrones had skirted Kolshian shells, and turned these opponents into debris shards, set adrift by an engine eruption. The Terran fleet was cozy and untouchable behind their physical barriers, as hundreds of adversaries were downed.

With shields down across the board, it was the humans who were dishing out massive damage and protecting their own. The Kolshian drones were commanded to retreat, realizing that they needed to invite us deeper into Mileau’s system. Hunkering down was dandy, if we could afford to wait for the opponent to come to us. However, the United Nations needed to advance on targets, not camp out in the fringes.

The Terrans disassembled the walls, which autonomously retracted into ship bays. They pursued the retreating Kolshians with zeal, perhaps incensed, as I was, by the prospect of captive humans. The Duerten Shield moseyed along, with sporadic bursts of fire coming from their ranks. All they seemed to add was the illusion of depth; it was the predators forging ahead.

There’s only one species that can challenge the Kolshians at all. But the humans will have to claw for every inch, and there’ll be a fight on the ground too. We can’t pull a full frontal assault with civilians to rescue.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Our carrier had separated from the larger fleet, and the research station was within view. The hangar bay doors lowered at a glacial pace, opening up the behemoth’s belly to the effervescent stars. A piston brought the shuttle back, before propelling us forward with sudden momentum. My stomach lurched, and I leaned against my human for stability.

The time for occupying myself with the larger battle had expired. We had been released, alongside a handful of other transports, toward the conquered Dossur habitat. Kolshian warships prowled around the station, which looked like a series of rings stacked atop each other. These foes were more traditional enemy craft, designed to cart soldiers to and fro. They spotted our vector, and rushed out to intercept us.

Terran fighters pulled away from our ride’s side, and moved to greet the interceptors. Their job was to ensure we were unimpeded in transit; I was well aware that our transport could succumb to a single shot that slipped through. Every life onboard hinged on how well our allies could keep us out of the fight, until we arrived at the station.

“So Slanek, what sort of training do you get to become a Venlil Space Corps pilot?” Marcel sensed my nerves at the incoming enemies, who were well-equipped to take out a ship like ours. The human was kind to distract me from the precarious flight, but his topic choice was touchy. “Every time I asked you in the exchange program, you said you didn’t want to talk about war. So I quit asking.”

I pinned my ears back. “You clearly didn’t quit asking. Take a hint. Mostly, they just taught us how to operate the ship, and how to search for the fastest route to flee.”

“I…your military training taught you how to flee? In hindsight, it’s obvious the Federation was damn well trying to lose.”

“They told us we couldn’t beat the grays. Truth was, the Kolshians could’ve swooped in the whole time. If I hadn’t met humans, I’d never have realized any of it. I’d still be a scared little Venlil, sniveling at the first sign of peril.”

Maybe I was happier then, though I wouldn’t trade meeting Marcel for the world. What I wouldn’t give to unlearn how readily I can kill…

“What’s wrong?” my human asked, blinking with concern. “You haven’t been yourself since we came back from Sillis. You weren’t yourself even before the grays landed there.”

I snapped my head back, like he slapped me. “Must you pry at every waking hour? Maybe I just don’t want to talk all the time! We’re in a fucking battle.”

Marcel clammed up, a taut grimace on his face. I suppose that was the wrong thing to say, when I did want his concern and attention. Part of me wanted to confess how tormented I’d felt, and admit the decline in my day-to-day stability. This was the wrong time for Slanek to go crying to his human, though; if I’d made it through all the battles in the past, I could keep it together for one more fray.

I drew a ragged breath, and turned my focus to the fighters warding off the Kolshians. Our transport twirled out of the way, as a plasma beam slipped off in our direction. We were ready to evade on a moment’s notice, despite how it sloshed the soldier passengers around. I couldn’t wait to set my feet on solid ground; it was terrifying to be caged, as weapons sizzled around us.

The carrier from which we came loomed behind us with a watchful eye. It boasted hearty munitions and a treasure trove of missiles, and it combined a whirlwind of those items against enemy ships. Drones spilled from a separate hangar in its belly; these robots expanded upon the nimbleness of narrow fighters. Faced with multiple new threats, the Kolshians diverted attention to the source, easing the pressure off us.

Our transport seized the opportunity, refusing to slow down until it was absolutely necessary to breach the station. The humans weren’t foolish enough to enter through an actual airlock; according to a commander who briefed us, the Kolshians were smart enough to have those locked down tighter than “Fort Knox.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I understood the gist of it. Taking the path of maximum resistance wasn’t my preferred action.

I tapped my tail against Marcel’s wrist, and he pushed it away. “Hey, I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just under a lot of stress…and I know you are too, so it was wrong. You know I love our chats. That subject struck a nerve, that’s all.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the human sighed. “I won’t make the same mistake, giving you the silent treatment going into combat, again. I am just worried about you.”

“No need to worry, my brother. So I can put my tail back?”

“Fat chance, Salt Monster. We’re touching down in a minute; we need to be ready.”

“I am ready—to shove the next can of Pringles I get all the way up your ass.”

“Aw, listen, he’s catching on to our lingo, guys! We’re truly corrupting the Venlil.”

Our transport bore down on the Dossur station, and pulled up alongside a maintenance shaft. Arcs of white trailed behind us, as Kolshian guardians and human fighters were taking significant casualties. The UN carrier was still kicking, but the gaping holes in its hull suggested it’d seen better days. It wasn’t clear who the localized victor would be, but that wasn’t our concern. We had to assume the Terrans would reclaim this station, and focus on retaking it from the ground.

The main UN fleet seems to be progressing as well, and the Duerten have stopped the bleeding from their ranks. The worst resistance is by Mileau though; we’re lucky to be assigned to a small station.

The transport lurched, as it deployed grappling hooks to the structure. Human soldiers chattered about it being “like pirates”; I tilted my head in confusion, as I received a translation error. There was another phrase to ask Marcel in my spare time. Perhaps these “pirates” were human rescuers who saved lost ships? As someone who’d learned their real side, I wasn’t going to assume it was something predatory this time.

We rose from our seated positions, and arrayed by the exit to bridge the gap. The Terrans had affixed an artificial tunnel to the station, ensuring our travel point was oxygenated. It also ensured that the target’s atmosphere didn’t leak into the great beyond. For humans, blasting through the structure’s metal was a simple task, taking a matter of seconds. With mathematical precision, we were skulking into occupied territory.

Panic threatened to swallow me, but it wasn’t the mindless fear of my instincts. It was an onslaught of terrible sights, jumbled together from past battles. I took a series of deep breaths, as Sara and her team taught me to do in the instinct suppression program. Oddly enough, rather than my emotions encouraging me to flee, it felt like I was seconds away from slipping into combat mode.

“There were human and Dossur civilians here,” I soothed myself. “It’ll all make sense once you’re killing the Kolshians that did this.”

You want the bastards to suffer, Slanek. And you certainly don’t want Marcel thinking of you as a liability again, like he would if he knew you were in this rut.

Human soldiers rolled grenades through the entrance, before scurrying forward with weapon muzzles alight. My red-haired predator wore a steely expression, as we poured out through the breaching tunnel. I willed my own legs to move, and clung to the orderly formation. Despite sticking out like a rotting vegetable, as the only Venlil, our unit banding together rendered me part of the pack. The Kolshians were our prey, vermin that needed to be cleansed from the station.

We cleared the structural opening, and gunfire assailed the pack leaders. I hustled into the maintenance shaft, and pointed my weapon. My claw was on the trigger before I could command myself to do so. Bullets from my firearm cleared the distance, and the deadly projectiles struck true on a veteran Kolshian.

Violet fluids splattered behind the enemy’s head; there was no question that had been my kill. I hoped to feel some remorse, but I sensed only the chaos of the situation. Crimson blood spurted from one Terran’s shoulder, and another primate slumped to the ground across from me. Marcel was moving to cover, hazel eyes wired and determined. We had expected to take casualties, with this much resistance present.

As the humans exchanged fire with the Kolshians, I issued a silent plea to the universe for our success. Every station and stretch of land within Mileau’s desecrated vicinity would be an uphill battle to reclaim. If the predators didn’t deal numerous defeats to the Federation today, our chances in the overarching war looked significantly less optimistic.