Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Rebellion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137
The Yotul’s decision was relayed over our comms, within minutes of my conversation with General Jones. The marsupial commander didn’t sound entirely thrilled at the prospect of saving the Duerten, but humanity had been a major force in pushing for the preservation of the civilian masses on Kalqua. Had the avians been willing to ask, I suspected the predators would’ve been there for the first wave. The United Nations, stretched across hundreds of light-years and multiple engagements, could only warp in a few thousand drones to pad our ranks; they’d been amassing that contingent nearby in case the Homogeneity reached out. My rebel fleet brought the most numbers to the table, of our trifecta, but that was if Kaisal elected to send us to battle. The Arxur runt was deep in thought at his station.
He's never been thrilled about anything that benefits prey; he despises every species in the Federation. The fact that he tolerated Felra, even at the behest of an Arxur superior, was a hefty concession. What is he considering?
I lashed my tail with impatience. “We need a decision, Kaisal. The United Nations and the Yotul Technocracy are moving out; time is of the essence.”
“Chief Hunter, it is my conclusion that we should take action against these Kolshian warships. Before the crew voices remonstrations, I think we cannot afford to be seen as weak,” Kaisal answered, in a voice that sounded more certain than his posture looked. “We pursued the shadow fleet from Mileau, and letting leaf-lickers fight our battles gives us a shameful reputation. They’ve tried to attack us before at Fahl, so choosing this engagement now is optimal: while we have numbers and allies.”
“You do not have a quarrel with aiding the Duerten, in spite of their insults and combat incompetency?”
“The reasons that I was given, when asking why humans aid those who despise them, were pragmatic. Keeping the Duerten as an active power results in greater numbers to fight the Kolshians, and should improve Terran odds of taking Aafa. It is also beneficial if the Commonwealth must spend more resources attacking Kalqua, rather than us or our limited number of allies. If Earth is under threat, that means they can’t afford to spare ships upon our requests.”
“Very well. I agree with your line of reasoning, and concede that these aggravating prey have some strategic merit. It is in the interest of the rebellion to thwart the Kolshians’ aims, even at the expense of our pride and dignity. Olek, Lisa, communicate with the Yotul and the United Nations respectively. Tell them that we will join their efforts to assist the Duerten Shield’s defense.”
Olek ducked his head. “Right away, sir. Is there anything else you’d like us to communicate?”
“Not yet. I’ll spend our short travel time crafting the appropriate use of our resources. We must minimize our losses, for the sake of this movement’s continuance, do you not agree?”
“We agree. If the United Nations has any insight on what role they think is suitable for us, I’ll pass that along,” Lisa said. “I’ll also keep an eye out, in case the Duerten hail us.”
Kaisal hissed in annoyance. “I doubt they would communicate with any predator, let alone us. I will keep an eye out for the likeliest scenario—those ingrates taking aggressive action against us, when we’re here to help.”
“If the Duerten attack us, that will bring a swift halt to any attempts to aid them—whether that is practical or not.” The muscles in my jaw tightened, and my eyes narrowed. A single shot fired from the Shield on the rebel fleet would result in us vacating the system and leaving Kalqua to its fate. “Our fleet will not bow to prey hatred like the Terrans do, yes? Arxur must keep some honor, if not pride.”
Calls of assent echoed throughout the bridge, and I turned my maw toward my readout to dismiss the conversation. The two UN soldiers informed our allies that the rebel fleet would join the operation to rescue the Duerten; I circled back to the simulation Jones had given me, and compared it to the current, murky sensor data. The Arxur were viewed as a terrifying menace, to the average herbivore. I recalled how Kalsim’s ships had fallen into flighty chaos when we showed up and nipped at their heels. It might serve us to attempt to replicate that response by targeting the ten thousand remaining ships of ordinary Feds from the first wave.
Even with Kolshian oversight, Arxur warships arriving to slaughter them will bear psychological ramifications. All we need is for a few commanders to panic, and the entire formation could collapse.
By comparing Jones’ recreation to the current ship data, I pinpointed two locales where the first wave’s remnants were centered. Just as the Kolshians had targeted the Duerten’s weakest link, we should return the favor to achieve the maximum impact. The Yotul’s particle beam innovation meant they were the best bet to occupy the shadow fleet drones, and the Terrans could take out enemy shielding at each key flank. The engine’s hum resonated beneath my feet; as we coasted into Kalqua’s system, I was drafting a rough briefing of my plan. Ensuring that it was a satisfactory visual aid, I had my subordinates transmit it to both the Yotul and human vessels.
I switched open the comms channel, once the mission summary was received. “Yotul commander, as you are quite competent in tactics, I imagine you’ve reached similar conclusions to us. We’ll take advantage of those syasara-brained instincts the Federation forced on their people, and handle what’s left of the first wave, while you keep the real threat away from the planet.”
“Well, looks like humanity is going to cover the Duerten’s asses after all. Dumbfucks don’t deserve it. Bright side of these orders is we’re gonna put our hindlegs below the Kolshians’ tails; the Technocracy will be delighted to send the shadow fleet back to the shadows. Blow for blow, one of ours has got ten of ‘em beat. I’ll forward what we learned from our scouting forays, and then it’s up to us both to pull our weights.”
“I do not anticipate worthy fighters among the Federation’s expendables. We’ll be hunting lesser pilots. I imagine you are in the same position with those Kolshian drones, yes? Good fortune, and good hunting, to the Yotul fleet.”
“Likewise, Chief Hunter. Give ‘em a generous helping of Ralchi’s fire for us.”
My Yotul counterpart switched off the transmission; I’d be thrilled to sink our charged weapons’ teeth into hapless Federation vessels. The rebel fleet split into two movement vectors, at my command, in order to strike both of the manned contingents. Hundreds of species had brought forth offerings to the attack fleet, though the neighboring Malti and Drezjin ships appeared to be dispensing most of the planetbound bombs. My best guess was that the Kolshians concocted some rationale that Kalqua would be a threat to their safety, if left alone, and that the Duerten would come for them first. I was highly doubtful the Homogeneity was capable of hiding that many Venlil assassins in statues, but Federation loyalists seemed incapable of finding logical discrepancies in any rhetoric from Aafa.
Kalqua enlarged on the viewport under our magnification settings, as we cruised within striking distance of the ongoing battle. Evacuation ships launched from the surface, but despite their civilian payloads, the lengthy-yet-slender silhouettes of Malti tube bombers turned toward them with hostile intent. The Federation-crewed vessel blew the escaping Duerten inhabitants to confetti before they could clear the atmosphere; in my opinion, departing shuttles would be best off keeping to suborbital skies. That would prevent the civilians from having antimatter rained on their metropolitan homes, without getting picked off by merciless attackers once visible.
Kaisal focused on his sensor array with determined eyes. “Sir, the Malti and the Drezjin are proving particularly hostile to the native lifeforms. They’re carrying most of the high-yield bombs.”
“So I’ve noticed. We’ll target those bombers first; we do not want the Duerten wiped out, under the present circumstances,” I responded.
Lisa cleared her throat. “Sir, if I might offer a suggestion…remember how we tipped off the Arxur when the Krakotl and their buddies sailed off into the sunset to kill us all?”
“What are you suggesting?”
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“Perhaps I could get our contacts in UN intelligence to send an ‘anonymous’ tip about the Malti and Drezjin’s bombing holiday to that Chief Hunter Ilthiss. If we serve them up on a platter, his profile suggests he’s single-minded about proving himself. It’s an easy way to weaken two Federation loyalists, and to keep them off the Duerten’s backs in the event we win.”
“It also gives us a fallback option, in the slim chance that our arrival doesn’t scatter their ships to the wind. Granted, that strategy failed to dissuade the delusional Kalsim, but I presume his wires were a little crisscrossed. Good work, Reynolds.”
The human soldier ducked her head, focusing her intelligent eyes on her display. My warship had locked a distant Malti tube bomber in our sights, and we burned hard across space to catch them. The Duerten Shield were getting pummeled by the overwhelming force, lacking the resources to allocate to their own defense. I could watch the Yotul and Terran vessels off on their separate courses, with the primates showing a disconnect from reality much like Kalsim; they were hailing Kalqua, despite knowing they were persona non grata in this system. While I wouldn’t bother with listening in on that conversation, it was a fair guess that Coji was telling them that predators were anything but welcome in this territory.
Oh, I’d rather die than be beholden to the whims of beasts, I imagined the bird squawking, after the Terrans passed along a simple message of being here to help. You humans are just such terrible, bloodthirsty creatures, trying to stop our planet from being bombed.
Honestly, that sounded about like what a typical Federation-indoctrinated herbivore would offer in response to humanity’s kindness. Sighing to myself, I turned my attention to the battle before us. The Malti tube bomber was cresting toward an open swath of space, but its engines were nothing to marvel at; the majority of its storage was devoted to housing warheads, rather than a propulsion system. Its shape was awkward regardless, not lending itself to maneuverability or acceleration. The other vessel classes would be responsible for its defense, much like a prey herd’s mothers encircling their pups.
That weakness left the entire contingent tied down to the defense of a specific grouping. The Drezjin had spread out some of their own craft as a rearguard, watchful for any attempts to encircle them. I supposed even deluded prey could wizen up to recurring tactical motifs, without dogma obstructing them from analyzing “predatory” behavior. As the Malti bombers alerted to our presence, they pushed their pitiful engines further; Kalqua beckoned them toward orbital range. It wasn’t clear exactly how many antimatter warheads had smacked the surface so far, but the devastating explosions were visible from space. Add in the sensor data indicating fallout sites, and it was all but certain that the tally of felled cities had reached triple digits.
“Arxur fleet, draw as close to the Drezjin ships as you’re able to. These vessels have been engaged for a lengthy duration, so they’ve sustained damage; they’re not at their strongest. We’ll utilize ballistics and point-defense systems, where they’re especially soft,” I ordered.
On a psychological level, squaring off with an Arxur at close range, where the Feds could see our menacing visages from their viewport into ours, would strike at their already dwindling morale. The rebellion’s cruisers took charge, zipping in on an erratic course to dodge plasma targeting. With my command ship in the rearguard, Kaisal lined up vulnerable targets for our twin plasma railguns; our blinding beam pierced through a Drezjin’s drive compartment, and the subsequent reaction culminated in a staggering explosion. I trusted the sensors station to pick out a new target for weapons to mop up, so as our railguns recharged, I turned my gaze back to the front lines on the viewport.
Our cruisers had reached their intended destinations, though a few had been on the receiving end of Drezjin plasma. With our guns breathing down their necks, the prey crews began a hasty course reversal; they were desperate to pad the distance between them and the vicious Arxur. However, backward thrust brought us closer to the slow-moving Malti bombers, which they couldn’t afford to sacrifice. Kalqua would take much longer to lay to waste without the party with the most firepower. A satisfied growl rumbled in my throat, as I watched our rapid-fire kinetics slice through critical components. The Federation crews dispensed their entire caches of combat missiles in an attempt to push us away, though without targeting, the accuracy was lacking.
For every four explosives that missed the rebellion craft, one aimed itself in the right direction. Our point defenses picked off some before they could fully orient on us, and with the close proximity, that meant several warheads blew up in the Drezjin’s face. However, I could still see orange fire erupt across a handful of Arxur hulls, alongside the light shows in the void. Tipping the scales in our favor, the volume of lead we were pumping at hostile engines wasn’t deflecting harmlessly; shields were a non-factor at that close of a range. There was only so much force that could be absorbed. Not every bullet stream was enough to incapacitate or implode an enemy, but I was certain it was enough to get the warning bells ringing.
“Sir, the message has been passed along to Ilthiss,” Lisa piped up. “Do you want to inform the enemy of this development?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Negative. Let’s keep some…meat in the icebox. If we can win this of our own accord, it’s strategically beneficial that the Malti and Drezjin are unaware of the impending assault, yes?”
“Understood.”
The toughened exterior the Drezjin were presenting was beginning to crumble back into familiar prey dynamics; the remaining ships began to swerve any direction to escape, in the space version of a stampede. It was every Fed for themselves, with the Malti a long-forgotten objective amidst their haywire instincts. Whatever the humans had said to the Duerten Shield had been enough to get them to play along with our plan, it seemed. The avians had diverted focus to the shadow fleet, trusting the loathsome Arxur to handle the first wave leftovers. I was confident that we could deliver on that promise soon, with the enemy’s deficits in every category.
There are other species among those that came at the Kolshians’ request, but these two are the leaders and are sticking together. If their central core collapses, not only will this contingent be lacking in antimatter, but the other species’ following them will likely flee as well.
Initiative wasn’t a word that a Federation military seemed to have in their vocabulary. Kaisal had been diligent in finding lone vessels for us to pick off, and now, our entire fleet had a clear angle on our desired targets. The Arxur runt determined that it was time to utilize our missiles; on his command, a barrage booked it toward a trio of Malti bombers. The craft deployed interceptors in the nick of time, but we followed it up with a second barrage. Other rebel warships chipped in, ganging up on targets across the skirmish line. Enemies were being taken out like fires on a rainy night; one after another was puffed out of existence by our combined firepower.
The lumbering Malti ships weren’t able to run and save themselves, as the Drezjin had. Their vessels were picked off with cold precision, just as we had dominated them in our past raids. I could feel a tinge of the old powerful feelings, coursing through my veins like motor oil. It felt invigorating to command such a lopsided display, and to recapture the role of savior I’d had on Earth months ago. The other Federation craft saw their ringleaders succumbing to our might, and decided they’d had enough. Kalqua’s extinction was a long-forgotten goal; I watched them beeline toward any open path out of the system. The shadow fleet were on their own against four powers.
“Yotul fleet, come in,” I barked into my comms link. “We’ve cleared the manned vessels from the system. While they were expendable to the Federation, it lightens the pressure off of you and the Shield. I have a few ships chasing down stragglers and finishing off immobilized hostiles as we speak. How are you faring?”
The marsupial commander was on the line in an instant. “I’m afraid we’re quite outnumbered, and the Duerten Shield are little more than bodies. That said, the Technocracy can take out a shadow fleet drone in seconds. They can block plasma and standard kinetics real well, but those neverpouched squids are plenty weak to particles moving at 0.98c. We’ve had to absorb a few punches, and most of our ships didn’t have that dispensable outer shell intact after Mileau, but the Terran drones have been acting as a buffer. My feed attributes eight thousand confirmed kills from the three thousand of us—not too shabby, huh?”
“Indeed. How many losses have you sustained?”
“A few hundred Yotul ships down, but the fact we haven’t lost more is thanks to the Terrans. They’ve bled about two thousand drones to preserve our lives. We could use your numbers to keep the near twenty-thousand remaining ships off our tail. The Duerten can’t seem to do much more than sit slack-jawed and watch.”
“We do not have the capacity to replace our ships that are lost, so we will play only a supporting role. You just need extra guns, yes?”
“Anything’s better than nothing, Chief Hunter. We can’t be everywhere. You get involved in the picture, and suddenly, assuming you count the Duerten, we have a numerical advantage. As the humans say, we’re in business.”
“Very well. You’ll have long-range plasma support.”
“Excellent. Once you arrive into the picture, the Terrans are going to try to convince the Duerten to charge guns-blazing. Humans are damn good talkers and all, but by the purification rites, I wish them sincere luck with that! They’ll need it. Contact us if there’s anything at all you need to relay; otherwise, let’s make some robot calamari.”
“We are happy to heed that directive. Good fortune, as always.”
I switched off the line, and rerouted my vessels toward various requests for backup sent by the Technocracy. The other group of rebel craft, dispatched to pick off a separate group of first wave leftovers, had also chased their quarry from the system; that left just the drones of the shadow fleet. I spotted several Kolshian automatons encroaching on Kalqua’s inner sanctum, and watched warheads tumble out of their bellies. Before my watching eyes, a Terran drone flung itself in the path of one missile, sparing a metropolis from a city-leveling dispersion. Unfortunately, the other explosives were jettisoned out of interception range. Since the Duerten were not a Sapient Coalition power, they lacked the missile defense systems that humans had been posting on their affiliated worlds.
With more murderous munitions striking Kalqua’s flesh, adding to a tally of detonations that was approaching the second hundred, I vowed to help the Yotul and the Terrans secure the region. The goal of my rebellion was as much to thwart the Kolshians’ aims as the Dominion’s, now; both parties presented a threat to the peaceful coexistence I desired.