Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Rebellion Command
Date [standardized human time]: January 16, 2137
I recalled my first unfiltered research into Earth, when I read what they said about the Arxur. Despite rampant empathy, it was doubtless that they were predators; their history involved dominating their world, and harnessing it to suit their whims. When I understood that the Venlil were considered equals, not a pet or a tool, it required executive judgment about whether Terrans could be an ally. Their social nature was my perfect excuse to cover for their lofty ideals.
Upon reaching the determination that humanity was a predator race, I took it upon myself to read their military doctrines. One adage that caught my attention was, “The best defense is a good offense.” It was exemplified in the Sol system, lobbing asteroids with FTL drives and ambushing the extermination fleet with nuclear weapons. An active, energized attempt to hold the Harchen system was what I expected from Terrans. Watching the UN forces curl up into a ball at Fahl didn’t make sense, until it became clear that this was bait.
Signatures climbed into the upper reaches of the atmosphere, ascending all the way from Fahl. These were surface-to-space missiles, a concept that required pinpoint calculations. To accurately target something in orbit, from the ground, took unfathomable skill. The humans must have been mastering similar crafts for years; the name of the Satellite Wars rang a bell in my head, and I considered asking the Terrans about it. If we were to be future allies, I should have more than passing knowledge of their abilities.
“This is tech from your Satellite Wars, yes?” I inquired. “Do you remember those?”
“That was years ago, before Olek or I were born. We’re 22nd century babies; Generation Eta. I know what they taught us in school, and Olek knows what he’s read on conspiracy blogs,” Lisa answered.
Olek admired the viewport. “I do know the mainstream narrative…I just don’t blindly accept it. They say the conflict didn’t seem that bad; it wasn’t supposed to be a ‘real war.’ We were only shooting satellites out of the sky, and poking at the digital boundaries. Those were just things, not people or places. No soldier ever fired a shot at another.”
“But someone crosses a line, and it escalates. Like a domino effect. Suddenly, you have a nuclear reactor meltdown in Mississippi, and power going off in winter in Shenzhen. South American countries and African trade blocs get roped into embargoes, now they’re on the shitlist. China hits a French satellite by mistake, aiming for a US spy satellite, and now the EU’s throwing retaliation shots.”
“All this to say, yeah, we can snipe things out of the sky, no problem. Surface-to-space missiles can be hidden in the ground, thousands of ‘em. The Kolshians come here thinking they’re going to orbitally bomb us and our pretty little buildings, and the planet pulls an Uno reverse card.”
Felra’s whiskers twitched. “And this also functions as part of a missile defense system? Zhao mentioned it at Proxima Centauri.”
“Hrr, the history lesson is riveting. Humans call something a war where they didn’t even shoot at each other.” Kaisal’s voice was thick with irritation, though he kept his words civil. “I feel much better about our chances today.”
“Laugh at cyberwarfare all you want. The Dominion and the Kolshians sure aren’t,” Olek said.
“Nor am I. The humans always know more than they should, and it is a benefit to our cause. Kaisal, unless you wish to be social, provide only battle updates.”
Disdain simmered in the Arxur runt’s eyes. “Thousands of missiles in viewport range…Your Savageness. Firing on the Kolshians, not us. It’s a lot for them to intercept at once.”
The warheads continued their flight toward the heavens, white daggers rising from Fahl’s verdant surface. Powerful engines propelled them toward targets, and onboard homing systems kept them trained on hostile Kolshians. Felra tensed on my shoulder, pressing her cheek against my neck. Her side-facing eyes were absorbing the scene from the viewport, as the enemy scrambled to account for all inbound munitions.
Should I shield Felra from watching the assumed casualties that are about to play out? No, she can exercise her own discretion. She’s an integral part of my team.
Knowing how humans operated, I found it hard to believe that this plan was a “one-trick pony”, as they said. Missiles barreling down on the Kolshians were a threat in their own right, but they weren’t the crushing haymaker Terrans usually had up their sleeve. Lights flashed from the lunar surface, though that was a mere restoration of Fahl’s old planetary defenses. Lasers sliced through metal with decisive power, and the Federation enemies didn’t dare to approach in view of the moon. That forced them onto a single vector toward our position.
The surface-to-space missiles charged across the void, and the Kolshians deployed a trail of interceptors. Most projectiles were felled by enemy countermeasures, tricked into an early explosion or broken up by outbound fire. The UN fleet snuck in a few lighter ships to toss shield-breaking missiles, but remained adamant in their orders for us to hold formation. I didn’t understand what the humans were playing at. If our foes had suffered shield outages and were warding off multiple munitions, wasn’t this our time to strike?
“Why are we not launching an offensive?” I snarled into the comms. “We should hit them while they’re confused! You’ve got them reeling.”
A human commander responded through a closed channel. “Negative. Please hold your positions, Chief Hunter Isif. Engaging in close-range is not advised at this time.”
“Why not? These missiles and laser point defenses aren’t enough…not against a thousand vessels. The Kolshians have more advanced tech than anything we’ve seen.”
“We’re aware of the Commonwealth’s enhanced abilities, so that’s why we must coordinate our actions. Resources are limited, and the Arxur rebellion cannot sustain severe casualties. Please, hold on a little longer: we’re setting up prime conditions for your fleet to strike, on our signal. We have a plan. We always do.”
The Kolshian ships were packing into an aggressive formation, and heading toward our own combined ranks at maximum velocity. The Terrans wouldn’t want to let them have a crack at the vassalized Harchen; there was no way they’d just let the Commonwealth approach. Still, Nikonus’ military wasn’t composed of oblivious fools. The tentacled bastards saw the markings of a trap, but were arrogant enough to believe they could plow through it. While time would determine who was right, I had sought out the humans’ help. Now was too late to question their wisdom.
“All Arxur troops…ready your plasma weapons, but await the humans’ signal. Let the Kolshians come to us,” I issued the order to my fleet. “They want to take us down, in cahoots with Betterment, and they’re in for a rude awakening if they think they can just walk right in here! It’s fitting that the two parties responsible for our starvation have shown they’re on the same side at last. We will send them crawling back to the hole they came from!”
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The Arxur rebellion fleet was comprised of every vessel we could pull from Betterment’s side. Rogue captains with their warships, vessels that had stuck around from my original sector force, and lesser transports stolen by defectors fought alongside each other. Smaller craft had also been gifted to us by the United Nations covertly. I could discern design similarities to the Terran armada scattered among my forces; the proportion of our manufacturing that relied on Earth’s generosity wasn’t lost on me.
We only learned of Nikonus and Giznel’s collusion ahead of time because of Zhao’s intelligence. That alone was sufficient reason to give them leeway, and trust that humanity could outwit the Kolshians. I disliked placing my fate in another’s hands, especially after things had gone awry in the past. My pupils darted to a distrustful Kaisal, who lacked faith in humans after his failed defection to Earth. I then scoured Olek and Lisa, who were poring over data without comment.
The leaf-licking primates didn’t arch an eyebrow, despite our forces being seconds away from a head-on confrontation. The Kolshians were already pushing through artificial satellites that drifted in orbit, and would have recovered their shields by the time we met. The missiles launched from the planet had been impressive, but only netted a few dozen kills. The humans cast a second wave from Fahl’s atmosphere; I didn’t imagine the results would be better. If anything, the enemy knew to expect it now.
This plan is asinine; there’s no time to wait for planetary defenses to whittle away at the Kolshians. Maybe the UN has missed the mark here, and are too arrogant to admit their inefficacy.
Felra chittered by my ear. “Humans have a lot of explosives here, Siffy. Is it like this, on all of their worlds?”
“Let me consult the schematics they gave me of all their defenses and contingencies. Zhao hands that information out at public request,” I grumbled.
“So you’re moody. I’m scared too, but I’m sure these are different missiles than the first ones! They had lots of bombs in their staging system.”
“You don’t know how to read sensors, rodent. There’s no difference between these missiles, and the few thousand in the last wave!” Kaisal spat. “The same fucking make. If you know nothing about battle, leave it to your betters.”
“I can learn, Kaisal. I’m just as intelligent as you! But if you admitted that, you’d have to admit to yourself that I’m not food.”
“You’re not food because S…Isif is defec…cruelty-deficient. He takes after humans with the pets. The damn humans are letting us down now, like they always do, because they’d leave any Arxur behind if it saved their skin. I don’t trust a weak-minded animal, and I trust these apes even less.”
After considering his comments, I decided not to reprimand Kaisal; it might behoove me to revise my strategy for bringing him under my control, if I didn’t want to execute him for insolence. Food and opposing Betterment weren’t making him cordial. However, what he claimed about the new surface-to-space missiles was true. Sensors backed up his initial claim, that these defense weapons were identical to the first wave. Even I wondered whether the Terrans were losing the thread.
This second wave was showing signs of a targeting glitch, with warheads straying off-course from the Kolshian fleet. I waited for them to veer back onto the correct heading, but many were pointing away from the enemy altogether. If anything happened to my command vessel, Felra would disintegrate alongside me. A protective growl rumbled in my chest, as I looked the Dossur with concern. The risk was unacceptable; the UN failed to deliver, and I was going to issue orders to siege the enemy.
A sudden explosion appeared on the viewport, away from any Kolshian vessel. That was followed by another payload striking the wrong mark, and then another; the explanation for why the missiles weren’t homing in on our opponents presented itself. The moronic Terrans had accidentally lobbed their weapons into Fahl’s artificial satellites, in what could only be described as an utter failure of their targeting. Anger burned in my chest, and I wasn’t sure I could resist the urge to berate them for incompetence.
I thought I could trust humans; if I’m honest, I admired their inventiveness. The one time I’m depending on them for the future of my species, they shit the bed?!
Fixing a scorching glare at the viewport, I watched a surface-to-space missile take out a satellite. It was ironic, per the now-infuriating history lesson I’d received; taking out orbiting objects was why these weapons existed in the first place. Perhaps its programming hadn’t been altered to steer it away from artificial debris. The impacted satellite was ripped into thousands of tiny pieces, which rocketed around the planet’s berth like a whirlwind. Most microscopic shards were hurtling…toward the Kolshians.
Shrapnel impaled the oncoming enemies within seconds, puncturing vessels in multiple compartments and crippling important functions. Navigations went haywire following hits to specific hull regions, whereas a lucky blow to the centrally-located drive sent a handful of enemies up in a fireball. The perils were compounded on isolated manned ships, where debris could slice into the bridge and its personnel. Fortunately for Felra’s sake, most foes were drones, so casualties wouldn’t weigh on her conscience.
“Their automated ships are built for evasion, but how do you evade a wall of debris? No calculation will save them,” I mused to myself.
Human command flickered back onto the comms. “Arxur forces, you are a go to engage the enemy. Harass their flanks and target weakened ships. Keep behind the moving cloud of debris.”
“Copy that. All Arxur forces, the Terrans have baited vulnerable prey and signaled our opening to pounce. Let’s remind these miserable herbivores who the actual hunters are.”
“Miserable herbivores?” Felra squeaked, as I switched off the channel. “Don’t be like that. You can do so much better. I want to see a day where you make peace with…miserable herbivores.”
“‘Miserable’ isn’t a flattering qualifier, nor is it one I use as a blanket term. The Kolshians fit that description, so it is appropriate here. They are not who they say they are, yes? Their deaths will not be mourned by anyone with a worthy opinion.”
Olek chuckled. “Truth. Go get ‘em, Siffy boy!”
The arboreal predators migrated from their defensive arrangement, and brought their ships into firing range. Few Kolshians had escaped the consequences of the satellites, which had acted as grenades when they blew apart. The power of a single missile was amplified into a lasting storm, that made our orbital passageway unassailable. The Commonwealth was hellbent on quashing my rebellion, but they didn’t wish to lose every vessel. Enemy ships peeled back, likely having received a command to retreat.
I watched over my fleet, as they snapped up stragglers with deadly vigor. The humans pressed as deep as they could afford to risk; any crippled vessel became an immediate target for the Earthlings. To think I’d been livid with them for a brilliant strategic play. The Kolshians needed to set the terms of their engagements with the United Nations, because they weren’t gaining any traction on prepared Terran battlegrounds. My movement would survive another day, and we owed it to these weaponized defenses. The Secretary-General had earned a humble thanks for his intercession.
“Woohoo! What did I say about calamari?” Olek cheered.
Lisa smirked to herself. “Don’t jinx us. Wait for the last ones to be mopped up before you pop the champagne.”
“Let me gloat a little. Especially after Kaisal said he doesn’t trust us…apes.”
The Arxur advisor scowled. “I made the mistake of trusting humans once. Your species’ character doesn’t change because of one victory against prey.”
“Shh! You’re tempting fate. Don’t use the word victory until they’re all gone,” Lisa shot back.
“Hrr. No talking is perfectly fine by me.”
It wasn’t a long wait for the conflict to resolve itself, per Lisa Reynolds’ superstitions. The last Kolshian craft were downed or chased from the system within minutes, sent to nurse their wounds elsewhere. I had the presence of mind to commend the humans’ efforts, over our shared channel where my command could hear. While the United Nations was not an official ally, this showing renewed my confidence over the impact they could make, when they joined our clash with Betterment. If the rebellion held out long enough, we’d have the most devious predators in the galaxy on our side. That was an unparalleled advantage, in my book.
This sent a message to every Arxur rebel about the competency of our fellow hunters. I hoped the humans would succeed with their quest to topple the Federation, in a hurry. Whatever could be done to curry Terran favor, Zhao must be convinced to back us when his aid was needed again.