Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Rebellion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 5, 2137
When Vysith referred to Arxur today as “no longer people,” I decided the visitation was a lost cause. Secretary-General Zhao’s directive to liberate Mileau would be my focus; we’d have to stumble into morality the old-fashioned way, through trial and error. The humans could guide us down the roads of sophistication and ethics, with the principled backbone that held Earth together in the wake of the raid. As much as I loved Felra, allowing her to dictate my beliefs and behaviors was neither fitting nor desirable. The first phase to bring down the Kolshian empire was loosening their hold on the Dossur world, and thereby sending my friend home.
I’d decided to leave Felra with a human garrison at their fledgling colony in Mazic space, called Liberty’s Bastion. It was unsafe for her to come with us to a vicious battle, when there was a non-zero chance of us being killed in action. A fine Arxur commander led by example, proving their mettle and relishing the opportunity for a contest of strength. Even if we had been relaying orders from far-off, I thought it wise to keep my mind tactically sharp. I couldn’t afford to worry about whether Felra wanted Oleksiy’s beef jerky, while plasma beams were sizzling around us. The Terran guards would be more disciplined without the “cute” rodent around too; I had faith that they could conduct themselves well under peril. I observed the trusted Arxur I’d called onto the bridge, filling in vital stations, and considered what this meant for my legitimacy.
Forty thousand ships. That’s the number the humans gave me, for the original force that seized Mileau.
I gazed out the viewport at the fleet I commanded. The thick armor of Arxur warships merited respect, alongside the punishing twin plasma guns that could skewer an opposing vessel. The rotund belly of our vessels broke up the otherwise angular build; missiles were stuffed into the underside, as we shared the affinity for toting explosives with the Terrans. A traditional Federation ship would’ve cowered at the sight of our firepower, but the secret fleet of the Kolshians had an answer for all of our inventions. Standing aboard a craft of the aforementioned make, I felt woefully exposed.
Coordinating disruptions against Dominion targets was one thing; they weren’t expecting resistance, and they didn’t have any tools at their disposal that we couldn’t predict. Waging a battle against a superior enemy, with the ragtag armada at my disposal, was daunting. Proper warships didn’t comprise the entirety of my force, as we had to rely on anything with a drive that fell into our jaws. The Terrans had parted with some smaller or obsolete craft they had no use for, which did little but pad our spaceworthy ranks. Stolen Arxur transports, retrofitted with guns, were lacking in maneuverability, firepower, and armor.
The classic, intimidating warships were the few that captains had been bribed into stealing. The other ship classes were designed with the intent of bringing soldiers to the ground to take a planet, not for exchanging blows with an advanced fleet of drones. Zhao had promised to support us, so I was hoping humanity had sent something substantial to our aid. We needed any assistance we could get; taking serious losses might as well be total defeat, with our limited numbers. The strategies I devised would also need to be good enough to outfox the Kolshians.
“Chief Hunter, there’s an incoming transmission from the Yotul Technocracy. Shall I read it?” Oleksiy Bondarenko asked.
I glanced up from my holodisplay. “Please do.”
“‘The humans have requested that we aid you in retaking Mileau. We have been amassing an armada since the Battle of Earth, with aid from Terran engineers, and feel that these vessels are ready for deployment. Two thousand newly-minted ships will warp in just behind your position. We’ll advance on your signal, and see how our weaponry fares in action.’”
“So this is the first battle for these Yotul ships—crewed fully by Yotul, without human intercession, yes? This is how Zhao interpreted me asking for assistance?!”
“The tail end of the message says that more help is on the way, sir.”
A growl rumbled in Kaisal’s throat at the sensor station. “We all know how well the prey wage war. Our number are barely above the five digit range. If the humans expect us to push forward, uncertain we can create a decisive edge, we must rethink our strategy.”
“Yes, I appreciate your input, Kaisal. I trust you to preside honorably over your station. Humans, do you have any ideas of what this ‘other help’ might look like? I cannot feel confident in an aiding force’s abilities when it’s all militaries of former Federation members.”
Lisa Reynolds glanced up from her briefing report. “I’ve been in touch with my UN contacts. As I understand it, the Duerten Homogeneity are not responding, even to Sapient Coalition parties that aren’t us. It’s possible that they’re ignoring us, but given their involvement in the assassination plot, it’s suspected that Kalqua is under siege. A show of force…a warning.”
“Nikonus may have been in league with Giznel, but his death changes little. I would not be surprised if the Duerten incurred the full wrath of the Federation. Even with their so-called Shield, they stand little chance against the shadow fleet.”
“I agree, and I don’t know what they were thinking. All I know is they were livid about having their free thought brainwashed away. Humanity…despite our differences, we would likely bail the Duerten out if they asked. With their hatred for us, they would sooner see their world burn than invite predators into their territory.”
“Why do you side with, and help, the very races that despise you?” Kaisal demanded.
“I agree with the runt.” My nostrils flared, as the Yotul’s promised ships arrived on cue. Human empathy could be directed to undeserved places, at times. “If the Federation weren’t a greater threat, and it were possible to secure Earth’s obliteration, I hazard a guess that the Duerten would do so without question.”
Olek shrugged. “We need more ships fighting for us and less ships fighting against us. Simple. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“The Duerten have unusual motives, but humanity always holds out hope of a species warming to us. We didn’t want to fight everyone like this,” Lisa said. “Look at all that’s happened. The Dossur have been occupied for months, for the crime of befriending us.”
“We have to break this stalemate here and now. No matter what, we have the human forces that are deadlocked here, in the system, holding the line as we speak. What we’ve got isn’t even a third of the total size of their fleet—but it has to be enough to turn the tide.”
“I suppose it does, Olek,” I sighed. “Thank the Yotul for their aid, and patch them into our comms. We’ll see very soon if they’re at all competent.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Yotul vessels were visible on the viewport, and had a different aesthetic from any craft I’d seen before. There was some mild displeasure on the rebellion’s channels over integrating with herbivore forces. The Technocracy’s commanders seemed capable of mobilizing craft into formation, though it was their combat readiness we all doubted. If the supposed reinforcements turned tail and fled when the gunfire commenced, I’d have some scathing remarks for Zhao once this was over. It was my hope that the humans knew what they were doing.
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If the Terrans hadn’t proved themselves to my men at Fahl, I suspect I’d hear more objections. After that demolition, saving our hides, the UN could put a syasara in charge of the armada and receive only grumbles from our people. Humanity has earned our trust.
Olek told me that humanity was involved in designing these vessels, which meant the Yotul warships could be more devious than they seemed at first glance. The strange shapes and features of the unknown classes suggested something was up with them. Conspiracy-loving Bondarenko adjusted his glasses, seeming to read a message on the comms station. Kaisal’s posture stiffened by the sensors, and I parsed that our other assistance had arrived. My tail lashed with expectancy, waiting for one of those two to fill me in on the new development.
“1000 new contacts on screen, ID’d as human drones,” Kaisal announced.
Olek scratched his chin scruff. “Can confirm. I’ve received a communique with the info needed to relay commands to the drones. They’re human, but we’ve entrusted them to your overarching directives.”
“That’s not as many as I’d hoped Earth would send, but I suppose you have little left to give,” I mused. “Very well. Place them on the front lines, and forward our planned course.”
The human drones deciphered the gist of my plan, and maneuvered their way to our leading edge. I could see that the Kolshian occupiers had detected our arrival, though they couldn’t afford to break off from their current engagements. A lapse in the deadlock line would allow for the Terran drones in system, already pressing, to make headway. A worrisome issue crossed my mind, as I watched opposing beams traverse wide swathes of space. With the only sizable manned contingents being from my rebellion and the Yotul, which foot soldiers would clear Mileau of enemy troops?
If we liberate the system, I hope the humans will supply ground forces. Arxur landing will be perceived as a raid, and I wouldn’t expect herbivore soldiers like the Yotul to be able to drive out any trained military.
My focus was on executing the battle plan I’d devised; when my skeptical commanders relayed an openly disdainful explanation to the Yotul, the herbivores acted as if they understood. It’d been conveyed in terms suited for a toddler, since that was about where the Federation’s military competency stacked up. Despite the disadvantages we faced, I had to remember that this was for Felra. My best friend’s people were subjugated, and while she never complained, I knew that had to weigh on her mind.
The Arxur rebellion commanders followed my orders without question, with the obsequiousness and reverence owed to a Chief Hunter. It was simpler to mingle with my people without Felra miring my image, but the cruel acts I’d committed in the past hadn’t escaped my underlings’ memory. After witnessing my interactions, they’d seen defective behavior that didn’t align with that history. I had to prove that I could be a respected commander without cruelty. It was not just about retaining their loyalty, but also being able to interact with other Arxur as equals. Vysith had reminded me that true shamefulness stemmed from not acting empathetic enough.
“We’re keeping our strategies as simple as can be. Approach the skirmish line from a wide angle, and split the Kolshians’ attention,” I ordered. “With any luck, it’ll disorder their formation, and give the Terran forces already present a chance to break through for the kill.”
Kaisal was busy highlighting each Yotul ship on the sensors. “If these prey-crewed vessels can’t commit to a simple flanking pass, they’re dead weight.”
“I know. I’m not counting on the Yotul to do much more than draw fire off of us—which is fine by me. Onward.”
In strict formation, the fleet careened to the outskirts of the action, and coasted in for a bird’s eye view of the Kolshian forces. Thousands of automatons were warding off the primates, having kept the battle well outside Mileau’s sanctum. The hum of our engines in the floor was tame now, but we were ready to burn hard to swoop across our foes’ exposed side. Our weapons station was locked and loaded, as soon as we got within optical range of the enemy fleet. I strapped into the commander’s chair, in case the inertial dampers were pushed too far during combat.
The enemy drones definitely spotted us, because the nearest elements pivoted toward us to prepare for an onslaught. An AI’s omnidirectional view trumped even the ranging periphery of herbivores. A few foes lunged forward toward the existing Terran line, in an attempt to dissuade the friendly automatons from pushing ahead and capitalizing on our arrival. I was grateful that the vessels leading our own charge were the handful of reinforcement drones Zhao coughed up; I’d prefer they absorbed the worst of the hostile fire, rather than a ship with lives aboard. I didn’t dislike the Yotul, and despite mistrusting their competency, that was a “guilty by association” view.
I respect how they try to act brave; that’s half of actually having bravado, yes? Of all the parties at the Summit that heard my speech, only one ex-Fed was willing to work with me.
With an enemy force engaged at a ninety degree angle to our approach vector, we pushed the thrusters to full burn. Numerous Kolshian craft had re-oriented their weapons to face us, anticipating the greater threat of our flanking force raking their line. If the onboard programs were aware the lead commander was an Arxur, I suppose I’d been predictable. Our reputation indicated that I’d choose an aggressive course of action. Simple maneuvers amid a crowded battlefield were proven across eons. Attempting to outwit a machine with faster decision-making power was an exercise in futility, unless you were a delusional Terran. Their spontaneity and wild ideas were nothing if not unpredictable; it was both their genius and their derangement.
Lisa’s eyes were focused on our human allies. “Sir, I recommend we keep our movement vectors clear of any friendly nanodrone swarms or shield-breakers. With your permission, I’ll keep combat stations apprised of such deployments and the affected radius.”
“Good idea. Fifty seconds to first volley; we are not to stumble into friendly munitions, but we will not shy away from engagement, yes?” I hissed.
Olek cracked his knuckles. “We’re back where Lisa and I first met you, Chief Hunter. Those military black budgets had to turn up something useful, huh? Let’s get it done.”
Subordinate Arxur on the bridge maintained submissive postures, though I could see a zeal for bringing down the Kolshians in many eyes. Nikonus had partnered with the oppressive Betterment office to ensure that our kind would never seek peace; that was enough to spawn a growl from my own chest. With narrowed eyes and a surge of adrenaline, I soaked in every detail. The bulk of the Kolshian drones remained locked in their struggle with Terran opposites, and thirteen thousand rebel-controlled ships were barreling toward the enemy’s poorly-defended flank. Could shadow fleet drones withstand the initial onslaught, long enough for manned Kolshian reinforcements to reach them from Mileau?
Any commander knew there was nothing easy about overcoming five digits worth of ships. The drones under my oversight led the way, weaving through enemy fire with mechanical precision. Our armada glided behind them, as billowing explosions rocked the lines of both parties. My warship was insulated from the brunt of the fray, but we were vigilant for any munitions that slipped through the crack. Salvos of missiles were being traded like claw swipes, deflected or landing based on the receiving party’s situational awareness. Debris littered the system from the months-long battle, and we were only adding to it; disabled ships drifted helplessly along vectors from when maneuvering power was lost.
“Navigations, I’m forwarding hazards I’ve located to avoid collisions,” Kaisal barked.
Lisa’s head snapped toward me. “I haven’t seen any shield-breakers coming from the UN line, but they’re pushing forward to take advantage of distraction. Many Kolshians have shield outages, so I can assume that occurred well before our arrival.”
I drew a measured breath. “Thank you. Adjust trajectory as needed, and await my orders to fire on any important foes.”
Our vessel wove around the wreckage of an eviscerated enemy craft, and our plasma guns sizzled in wait of Kaisal’s next target offering. The rebel ships weren’t as nimble as hostile drones, but our heavy hitters packed more firepower. Twin railguns from warships scorched the flesh of nearby foes, taking advantage of the shields that were downed in lieu of our arrival. The Terran armada was surging forward all along the defensive line, rallied by the obvious devastation we’d sown. A pair of Kolshian drones collided, overwhelmed by the combined crossfire, and we were gift-wrapped an easy shot against another short-circuiting defender. I ensured my outward stoic professionalism, despite my internal celebration, as our plasma tore a gash in an enemy’s circuitry.
The Arxur portion of the plan was going swimmingly, but I noticed worrying movements in the wings. Rather than playing a supporting role, the Yotul had separated from our ranks and were spreading out across the Kolshian lines. Why were they breaking formation? Those herbivores should’ve let the predator militaries handle this! We couldn’t have the humans’ long-awaited chance to break through ruined by bumbling incompetence. With the feeling that I was watching a disaster in motion, I diverted my focus to the Technocracy ships going off on their own. The Kolshians were bound to teach the marsupials a lesson in humility.