Memory transcription subject: Onso, Yotul Technical Specialist
Date [standardized human time]: March 7, 2137
The auburn hair, cut just above her shoulders, was all I could see while staring intently at the back of Samantha’s head. The “Aussie” UN guard was brewing her daily cup of coffee, a routine I’d observed for multiple days. I had a perfect plan to spur her into action, when she turned around; my analysis of human behavior was conclusive on exactly what poked their buttons. The Terran turned around to find a Yotul hovering behind her, and I struck a pose as soon as her jade-green gaze narrowed. I tilted my head, ensuring that my eyes stretched as wide as possible. My ears slanted inward enough to touch, and my tail wagged in half-hearted motions.
“The fuck are you doing?” Samantha hissed. “Not even using your words? You want coffee, brew your own! You know how.”
I emitted the whine of a wounded animal, and lowered my head in the saddest way possible. My eyes shifted upward briefly, gauging the human’s reaction.
“I’m not doing it, you lazy…fuck!” The human waved a dismissive hand at me, and crossed her arms. “Try to manipulate me with the puppy dog face. Unbelievable! I’ll tell you this once; you’re playing a dangerous game, mate.”
I struggled to maintain my act. “Coffee? Please? I have to strain on my hind legs because of your counter height—”
“I’ll get you a bloody stepstool to stand on, but I’m not making it for you. Who taught you this? Knock it off, ‘cause you’re not getting coffee out of it.”
“Hey, c’mon!” A tall soldier with angular features pointed a hand at me; I vaguely remembered his name as Frank. “Give the space capybara some coffee. You’re making him sad.”
“Fuck no. You’re so keen on it, then you wait on him hand and foot.”
Sensing that I had a new mark, I wagged my tail happily and started bouncing up and down. Frank pressed a hand to his heart, cooing at me. A disgusted Samantha stomped off, carrying her own coffee to an empty table. There was a hint of a smirk on her lips, though she attempted to mask it. I flicked my pupils in the direction of the machine, and returned to shameless begging. It was mind-boggling how easy it was to influence the so-called predators; smug satisfaction filled my chest as the newcomer hopped to it.
“Aw, you poor thing. That mean lady didn’t want to share, but Uncle Frankie’s got you.” The aroma wafted into the air as it brewed, and I could already feel the pick-me-up working its way through my bloodstream. “Do you want sugar, cupcake?”
I imitated a human nod, in case he turned around. “Please.”
“Okay. Uh, what else do we got for the precious here…non-dairy creamer?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Any time! Lordy, you’re adorable as those Gojid kids. It’s not fair.”
My mask slipped for a half-second, wondering which Gojid kids Frank was talking about. Had he been on the ground during the cradle’s fall? Regardless, I couldn’t afford to get too chatty, given that I slated to help out with maintenance soon; I loved tinkering with machines, and there were always minor repairs and calibrations needed during transit. It was an extra duty I was happy to volunteer myself for. The computer had alerted us to a nanometers wide-hull breach, right beneath the drive core. It could weaken the load-bearing structure if left unchecked, and unfortunately, that area of the ship was only accessible from the outside.
By the time we stop outside Kolshian borders and await orders, I need to be ready to venture out on a little spacewalk. It’ll be wonderfully quiet.
Frank poured the coffee into a disposable cup, stirred a packet of sugar into it, and then dispensed a helping of creamer to make it taste more like a treat. The Terran slipped the drink into a sleeve so I wouldn’t burn my paw pads too. My begging act ended the second it was transferred into my grasp; I scurried off after a brief ear flick of acknowledgment. What else could I get humans to do with that routine? Outside of my areas of interest, there were quite a few tasks I’d be delighted to shirk. This was an eye-opening discovery that I needed to experiment with further.
“Proud of yourself, you little rascal?” Sam grumbled, as I approached her table. “Didn’t even tell the guy thanks.”
I slurped down a mouthful of the coffee. “An ear flick is thanks.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll be telling Tyler about this juvenile stunt. It’s not acceptable behavior—”
“I think me taking advantage of humans being suckers is more acceptable than Sovlin inventing new forms of racism.”
The Terran snorted. “Point taken. I still think you’re a jackass.”
“No, I’m a Yotul.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Fuck you too.”
“Hmph. I guess this is as good as alien interaction gets—a mutual volley of ‘fuck yous.’”
“We created a nice bonding ritual here. But on a more serious note, I was surprised to see you returned for this stint. Carlos seemed more attached to Sovlin than you, yet you’re both along for the ride.”
“I don’t dislike Baldy, but I didn’t tag along for him. Melbourne doesn’t exist anymore; I have nothing to return to. I’m here ‘cause it’s all I got, hunting the Kolshians down. Carlos is the one who probably came out of loyalty, maybe even brotherly love for Sovlin…and he’s also the one you should’ve pulled your coffee begging act on.”
“That might be a good idea, er, if Frank’s not around. I got a feeling he won’t mind helping out again.”
Samantha rolled her eyes, sipping at her coffee at a leisurely pace. Meanwhile, I began chugging my latte with gluttonous energy; her binocular gaze shifted to the droplets dripping off my chin. The human shook her head in disappointment. I gulped down the last of my drink, and slammed the empty cup down. The female primate wordlessly passed me a napkin, which I used to clean my snout. Peacekeeper Harris seemed to be biting back a comment on my table manners.
I pitched my trash into a wastebin. “Just out of curiosity, Sam, how close was my begging to working?”
“That will never work on me,” the human muttered.
“Why not? I thought I got the pitiful eyes down pat. You want to see it again?”
“Fuck no. Scram, Onso. You did feel us drop out of warp, huh? Go be useful.”
I gave an innocent wave, and Samantha purposefully turned her body away from me. Chuckling to myself, I skipped from the rec room to the nearest airlock. It took some persistence to wriggle into the Yotul spacesuit; with multiple Sapient Coalition species among the ship’s crew, the United Nations carried vac suits tailored to each race listed aboard, with at least a few spares in case of defects. I pulled up a small readout on my wrist, syncing it to my holopad. A beacon showed the exact location the computer had given for the breach, so that just left ejecting to the ship’s exterior to complete the repairs.
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I ran through the required visual 360 to ensure that no other people were within the airlock, before sealing the compartment. Various tools were already affixed to my belt, but I did the diligence of triple-tug-checking the tether hooked onto it as well. Once all items were confirmed to be secure, I held my paw over the atmosphere catch button. After the hatch cycled, I gave myself a slight push into the starry expanse; my suited form drifted over the body of the ship in the drive’s direction. It was a short glide, and the handholds distributed along key paths could steer me if additional momentum was needed.
I relished the feeling of weightlessness, surveying the serene panorama out of my periphery. My sense of utter insignificance blossomed, with only a few layers of fabric between me and the everlasting void. There was only the faint glimmer of distant starlight, rendering the metal of the ship’s hull a shadowy slope. Its entire length stretched for over a hundred meters, leaving plenty of space for humans to tuck powerful weaponry. I’d chosen an airlock a short distance away from the drive compartment on purpose; it was best not to waste thruster gas or oxygen, in case it was needed in a future emergency. Tapping the microphone button on my wrist readout, I transmitted a message back to the ship.
“I’m thirty seconds out from the repair site. This will be patched in no time,” I said.
Samantha’s voice filtered into my helmet. “Copy that, Onso. I’ll stay on this frequency and be waiting outside the airlock, as requested. Just don’t expect a picnic lunch when you return.”
“Pretzel sticks and a jar of peanut butter will do.”
“Well, you got two perfectly good legs, and you fucking know where to find whatever food your conniving heart desires. Now get off this channel, ‘less you got any official business.”
“Right, right. Well, I officially want—”
“Off.”
I tugged on my tether, slowing my glide and directing myself toward the source of the hull breach. It was nearly impossible to see with the naked eye, but the above-expected dip in ship oxygen levels substantiated the computer’s findings. A moment’s inspection identified the breach, which revealed itself as a subtle line of differently-colored metal. I popped the can of sealant off my belt, causing it to float up slightly; it had its own tether attaching it to my suit. After filling the microscopic hole, I covered it with a colored patch that fused itself into the hull. The simple handiwork solved the problem without a hitch, until we could seek a thorough repair. I tugged on my tether, propelling myself back toward the airlock.
It was rare that spacewalks were necessary for repairs, since most areas were accessible from the interior. However, issues in general were becoming a common experience during our voyage. This warship had seen significant wear-and-tear, so even with Earth’s desperation for artillery, I wondered if the United Nations would retire it soon. This hasn’t come close to a worst-case scenario. When unrepairable damage was sustained during combat, sometimes entire compartments had to be sealed off; I was pleased that my initiative had saved us from taking such steps. My paw drifted to the microphone button on my wrist, tempted to jab Samantha with my status report.
I shouldn’t have said the word pretzels aloud. I was joking, but now I actually want them. They are good gaming food, if we’ll stay put here long enough for a session with Tyler.
My nostrils twitched with amusement. “Hey, Sammy—”
Surprisingly, the human didn’t cut me off to strike down that nickname. “Onso, get back here now. Whether the repairs are done or not!”
“Already moving. What’s wrong?”
“Energy signatures out of nowhere. Bastards must’ve predicted our course, and that we’d stop before the disruptor buoys. I think they powered down their fucking ships and parked ‘em outside their own territory. You know, to ambush us, ‘cause there’s hostiles practically right next to us! You don’t wanna be out there if we—”
“Have to take evasive maneuvers or get hit. I got it, and I was already heading back.”
“Double time it, you crazy fucking marsupial. I’ll be right here.”
I powered up my jet thrusters, accelerating my movement toward the airlock. With visibility no longer being an issue for stealth reasons, given that the Kolshians were already upon us, our warship powered on bright exterior lights to illuminate nearby hostiles. One beam struck the hull of a foe, which was gliding adjacent to us at minimum power emissions; they’d snuck into position without attracting attention! Rather than striking us down, they appeared to be preparing to insert a boarding party; their craft latched onto our exterior before my watching eyes.
I hated the Kolshians, but I couldn’t deny it was a bold move to board a human ship. That would, at the least, catch the primates off their game. The United Nations had shown they could adapt under pressure; however, the shadow fleet’s foot soldiers had yet to clash with Earthling forces. While the Terrans were skilled against other foes, it was unknown how they stacked up against trained Kolshians or how well they could defend their warships from intruders. I needed to get inside, obtain a weapon, and ensure that I wasn’t separated from the other troopers. I sucked in a sharp breath, seeing the airlock come into view.
“Sam, it’s me. Open the door, now!”
I turned my shoulder inward, and hurtled toward the still-shut inner door. I braced myself to slam into it at high-velocity, though I knew obtaining injuries in a clunky spacesuit wasn’t ideal. Mercifully, my tail latched onto a pawhold, halting my momentum; I could see the whites of Sam’s eyes through the window slit to the control room. As the outer airlock clicked shut on her command, artificial gravity returned to the room. I rolled onto the floor for a rough landing, feeling the definite stings of new bruises taking root. Adrenaline helped me bounce to my feet without slowing, and I rushed to shed the suit.
Samantha unsealed the inner compartment, and shoved a sidearm into my grasp. “Take it. We need to work our way back to a chokepoint, or if all else fails, hole up in the bridge with the officers and a security detail. Let’s go, Onso, now.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I panted, spilling out of the suit like potatoes tumbling from a sack. “What if we get cut off from the core of the ship?”
“Then we’re on our own. Every soldier had orders to fall back; hell, the fucking ship might be put on lockdown…and we’d be stuck.”
“Why did you wait for me? You should’ve saved yourself.”
“I don’t usually leave my squadmates behind—not if I like ‘em, anyway. It is what it is. We move out and we deal with it.”
Samantha didn’t wait for further questions, jogging down the hallway to the rec room. I recalled exactly where the Kolshian soldiers’ insertion point had been; since I’d sized them up while returning toward the airlock, I knew enemies would be found in the direction we were heading now. It might serve us to reverse course, but given our orders, it could leave us stranded from our comrades. The key points for the United Nations to hold were the bridge controls and the armory; everything else could be sealed off to avoid any funny business. The warp drive, as was obvious during my spacewalk, was inaccessible from the inside.
Sparks were visible further down the corridor, the telltale sign of the Kolshians scorching an incision into the hull. Samantha crouched behind a table for a moment, weighing her options. The human and I were up against an entire boarding party, and I knew that ended with both our brains splattered on the wall. There wasn’t time to book it past the entry point before they made it inside. The UN soldier also opted to fight another day, slinking back in the direction we’d come. I had no idea how we could hope to make it out in one piece, other than attempting to dodge Kolshian sweeps.
How good at stealth and hiding are humans? I’ve read a bit about guerrilla warfare, but I don’t think hit-and-run tactics work in close quarters combat.
The primate and I ducked around a corner past the airlock compartment, and the clang of the wall coming down echoed behind us. From the footsteps I heard clashing with the floor, there must’ve been dozens of Kolshians; it was unthinkable to peek back and find out for certain. I warred with my nerves, as it sank in that we were cornered and hopelessly outgunned. It’d always been my impression that Tyler and I would have each other’s backs, but now, I just hoped my buddy was safer than I was. It was a fair assumption he was holed up in the bridge with the other officers.
I needed to survive on my own, if nothing else, as a “fuck you” to everyone who called the Yotul primitives. That was the Kolshians’ rhetoric, and I wasn’t going to let them put me down like the animal they thought I was. A sharp-witted human like Samantha might scrounge up some options for us; I shuddered to think what would happen to her, if the boarding party was able to capture a “predator” alive. Mileau’s cured Earthlings were experimented on, and had their central nervous systems drugged to senselessness just like me. I wouldn’t wish that existence on my worst enemy.
My grip became more secure on the firearm, and resolution took over my mind. If there was no escape for me, I planned to go down fighting instead of submitting to a fate of that sort. With any luck, the Terrans would figure out a way to clear the intruders from our warship before it came to such a drastic ultimatum. The push toward Aafa certainly hadn’t started off as humanity intended.