Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 24, 2137
The humans had really done it.
The deranged predators strapped themselves into multi-layered spacesuits, and leapt straight into space. I wasn’t sure what compelled my stout legs to follow their lead, but here I was, coasting alongside Carlos and Sam with no way back. The jet pack alongside my oxygen gave me a small push toward the lunar surface, with its flight computer having been programmed with my mass and height differential in mind. My claws wrapped around my rifle, which was tethered to my chest; the last thing I needed was for my weapon to float away. I wasn’t fully convinced we’d survive this stunt. Assuming we did, a single bullet which made it through or around the suit’s armor plates would expose us to the vacuum.
It was absolute lunacy, though it was made worse by the fact they’d slingshotted military rovers—of massive size and with gigantic guns—toward the moon atop thruster stages. It didn’t seem possible for it not to break apart when it struck the ground, without a true engine tacked onto it. That was our likeliest fate too; it seemed idyllic floating through space now, but hurtling toward the cratered, slate-colored surface would be terrifying. Did humans lack cognizance of falling or heights? Why had I agreed to go with them: just to prove myself to these should-be predator disease inmates?
The good news was a ship sniping lifeforms in the breadth of space was almost as difficult as nailing a nanodrone; we were microbes to a shadow fleet weapons station. That rendered the odds of us getting cooked by plasma low, though not zero. I cast a glimpse back at our warship, in time to see it making a hurried retreat from the planetary defenses. UN drones were fighting the Kolshians tooth and claw, but the enemies were easily sealing the temporary gap formed by our bombs. There was no telling whether our friends would survive the battle that raged overhead, as we careened toward the satellite’s pull. The planetary defenses had to be disabled, if we wanted the rest of the crew to have a fighting chance.
“Sam, are you sure this is safe?” I asked over the comms link.
The human’s irate expression was something I could imagine beneath her helmet. “Aw. Need a diaper change, Sovlin?”
“Fuck you. I’d like a realistic idea of our chances.”
“Well, even if you pass out like a scaredy-cat, the pack’s automated. It calculated the best route with its fuel reserves. We did a small-scale test of the tech on Luna, but it’s pretty new. Even if it does orient us in the right direction on an alien world, when our measurements rely on trustworthy-as-fuck Fed science, it’s up to you to land on your feet and haul ass.”
Carlos patched into our helmet link. “Thankfully, you’ll only have to hoof it to the nearest rover. If the trajectory is on point, our ride will be a few hundred feet away. From there, we got some big guns, and a little more padding between us and a stray bullet.”
“You have armed ground vehicles specifically for moons?”
“And for harsh terrain planets like Caato or Mars. UN’s had these bad boys out on Mars, mostly for search-and-rescue, but also in case any security action was needed. Dunno why they don’t use tank treads; hm, you could ask Onso, if you wanted to know.”
“Bah, I bet that primitive read all the answers in a book somewhere. I could do that too.”
Sam snorted. “Then why don’t you?”
“I’m busy. Currently dropping onto a moon with just a jet pack, for example. But I’m not establishing contact with that joke of an engineer until we need to patch ourselves back into the ship; all they need to know is when the planetary defenses are under our control, and we need a ride out.”
“UN Command will be in touch with our ground leaders the whole way through. We only need to phone home once we want off this barren rock.”
“How will the fleet know if we fail?”
“The installation will blow up,” Carlos answered in a voice that had too much levity. “Giant fireball, base gone. Quite visible.”
I flailed within my spacesuit. “What?!”
“Yep. I thought you listened in the briefing? Each installation across the lunar surface, including the one we’re raiding, has a self-destruct function so that it doesn’t fall out of their control. However, it requires authorization keys from two individuals. They’ll want the planetary defenses in the space fight as long as possible, so they’ll be standing by the receptacle until their base is about to fall.”
“The part I did listen to was the part where we still plan to storm their safe house. Do you warmonger apes like complexes blowing up in your face?”
“We prefer not getting immolated in giant explosions. Thanks for asking,” Sam chirped.
The lunar surface was enhancing in detail, and I could feel gravity playing a hand in my acceleration. The uptick in apparent velocity caused my stomach to churn, which made me desperate for the humans to keep talking as a distraction. My claws wanted to uncurl from the gun; instinctive panic told me I was about to die. The predators crossed their arms in front of their chests as they hurtled toward solid ground. Unfortunately, the more I heard about this plan, the less comforting I found their growling voices. The fact that they knew the base was prepped to detonate as soon as we got close suggested this was a suicide mission.
What if the humans are sacrificing us to get the planetary defenses destroyed, the way the Kolshians sent civilians to their deaths on those evac shuttles? How can clever predators like my guards not see this as a death sentence?
“I’m willing to die for what I’ve done, but I would’ve liked to have been told up front. I’d still do it so Earth can survive—for that debt I’ll always owe you—but I don’t love the idea of getting blown to bits!” I hissed.
Carlos’ sigh was audible within my helmet. “As I was saying, the two authorized Kolshians will need to stand by to initiate the self-destruct. Makes them a sitting target. Snipers take out one of them, and make sure no one else grabs the key. Our job will be to clear the facility, and assume control of the command center.”
“Hm. You left out the part of the job where we compete for the highest kill count of Kolshian asswipes,” Samantha interjected. “Oh, and Carlos, Baldy’s definitely thinking he shoulda stayed with Onso. The Yotul was the smart one, sitting in front of a bloody screen.”
“I do hope that nothing happens to that taushana,” I remarked, mischievously checking whether the humans knew that word.
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“That didn’t translate. What’s ‘taushana’ mean?”
“It’s a loving term of affection. Onso asked to be called that instead of primitive.”
“I don’t fucking trust you.”
“I’m being serious. If anything happens to me, tell him Sovlin was proud to work alongside such a bright-eyed taushana.”
“Hm. That almost sounds nice.”
“It is nice. I promise, taushana holds a special place in the Yotul language, especially in Rinsa. Onso and you battle-bonded, so it’d mean a lot from you, Sam.”
“I’ll…consider it. I do respect that wiseass firecracker. He’s alright for—”
The rest of Samantha’s slanted compliment eluded my comprehension. My focus was ripped back to my trajectory, once retro thrusters kicked in to slow my fall. With conversation failing to distract me, I noticed why boost power was kicking in. We were close enough to the ground that it was time to tap the brakes; my personal propulsion warred with gravity, yet gravity seemed to be winning. What spikes I had struggled against their bindings underneath the back of my suit. This free-falling sensation wasn’t anything that Gojids evolved to withstand, and my head was spinning from the rapidity of it all. Fear throttled my heart without any reprieve, threatening to strip me of my faculties.
The lunar surface expanded within my periphery, like it was being magnified across a viewport. Craters that looked like tiny divots from afar were becoming gaping basins; a few miles from our landing site, the planetary defense complex was taking on a three-dimensional appearance at last. My brain weighed the cumulative stimuli, and proclaimed my death was imminent. I couldn’t imagine how the Terran troopers who airdropped onto the cradle felt, on a planet with full gravity that well exceeded this moon’s attraction. Predators were built differently from us, but humans were a fearless breed even among hunters. I was certain the Arxur wouldn’t tackle such daunting heights.
Does that make me braver than the grays? That thought almost gives me the willpower to keep my wits; besides, it’s not like I can undo the fact I jumped out of a spaceship with suicidal primates at this point.
“Fuck!” I screamed into the comms. “Where is the fabric overhang you had on the cradle? Did you crazy, insufferable predators forget that?!”
Carlos’ chuckle sounded too carefree. “Oh, this is better than normal skydiving! So gentle and tranquil—I’d do this for fun. The adrenaline, Sovlin. Don’t you feel alive?”
“I feel like I want to know where the gliding tarp is! We need to slow the fuck down!”
“Well, a parachute would be useless. There’s no air in space for it to catch on.”
“Duh. You don’t have to be Onso to understand basic facts,” Sam jabbed.
I gulped down the oxygen circulating within my suit, leaving myself a mental reminder to purposefully have Sam run into my spines if I ever had the option again. Those mind-warped humans had no right to poke fun at how petrifying this was. My body careened through hundreds of feet of altitude in a short span, while the boost pack’s vibrations chipped in with more insistence. It was only when the ground was a skyscraper’s length away that it slowed me to a leaf’s glide; I floated on a bubble of air, placed down with a gentle touch. My feet pressed onto the lunar surface, with less force than if I was hopping out of bed. The predators touched down without issue as well, slowly lowered to the ground in tiny increments.
The perfect calculation of the jet pack’s computer was remarkable. I was beyond grateful to have my legs on solid ground; now, it was time to get moving toward the complex that could be detonated in our face at any moment. Across the surface of the moon, other groups would be storming similar installations without pausing for respite. Carlos checked the HUD within his helmet, before pointing toward a rover that had plopped down to the moon with elegance. It was awkward to run in my space suit under the low gravity, especially since the predators could maintain their pace with a light skip. I found extra energy for my legs as a rocket landed just shy of our position—the Kolshians had spotted us.
It's going to be a long few minutes driving toward the base. Thankfully, I don’t think they have a large supply of missiles on hand, but they will be shooting at us the whole way.
My lungs and core burned as we neared the rover, though I forced myself to press onward. Samantha ducked behind the wheel of the vehicle, while Carlos ushered me into the back compartment. As soon as we were inside, I collapsed from exhaustion; it would take a few minutes to catch my breath. The male guard took a brief look at me, before popping open a hatch on the vehicle. The human hoisted himself up behind a machine gun fixed to the top, just enough that his head poked out of the rover. His gloved hands turned the turret in all directions, and searched for targets.
Samantha finished plugging in the coordinates, before turning to face me. “Sovlin, you’re gonna be the loader. You see those ammo boxes? Load them into the main gun, and don’t fuck it up.”
I pushed myself to my feet, and studied the task at paw. “Yeah, I can do that. We don’t use ground vehicles too often in the Federation…nothing like these…but I’ve seen a few during Arxur raids. It won’t be a problem.”
“Better not be, or you’re walking to the base.”
The rover was rolling ahead toward the Kolshian installation, and without sound in space, it was impossible to gauge when we were being fired at. I could see Carlos firing off rounds at targets, but I decided to keep to my lane and help him reload. It was the human’s role to survey the battlefield, and assess hostile activities. Hopefully, the vehicle’s armor could absorb kinetics sent off by Kolshians who saw us coming. An army of military space rovers, dropped from the sky, plowing across the cratered surface…we were impossible to miss. Perhaps it was better that I wasn’t relegated to the stressful role of gunner, requiring myself to be exposed to anything sailing through the area.
Samantha, as the driver, wasn’t content without a view of the action. The rover lacked a windshield like I’d expect from exploration vehicles, but it seemed to have a periscope she could peer out of. I kept to my dutiful task, refraining from asking questions about our progress. Minutes of sightless transit had me uncertain how much further we had to press on to our destination; from the way Carlos’ legs had tensed up, we were receiving heavier amounts of fire. I knew that meant we had to be getting close, though none of us would exit the vehicle until we were on their doorstep. There was no telling whether UN snipers had been successful in eliminating the self-destruct keyholders.
I guess we’ll find out by whether the base goes “Boom!” as we bust into the command center. Let’s not think about that. I’ll assume we get control of those stupid lasers, and then my knowledge from defending the cradle might come in handy for how to use them.
Carlos continued to dish out bursts of fire, while helping Samantha keep an eye out for traps. The two humans communicated information only when it was necessary, otherwise preferring to fixate on our life-or-death circumstances. I was impressed as always by their efficiency and composure under extreme peril. The Terrans’ confidence rubbed off on me a little, despite how insane this mission was. There weren’t enough Kolshian foot soldiers defending the base to hold us back, as long as we could absorb an influx of fire a little longer. The rover appeared to have built-in systems that could mess with missiles’ homing systems, or destroy them in flight. Explosives were the greatest threat to us in transit, and they could be neutralized.
The incredible machinations crafted by these predators might be enough to get us to our destination in one piece. I couldn’t help but give a satisfied grunt, knowing how the tide of the space battle might turn if we gained control of the planetary defenses. Such powerful weapons were a nightmare for the UN armada to deal with, something that could smite our most advanced spacecraft in one hit. Without these installations, the shadow fleet would be ill-equipped against our particle beams, nanodrones, and other superior munitions.
I decided to break my silence for a quick word of encouragement to Carlos. I wanted to share the triumphant feeling coursing through my veins with the guard who’d always given moral guidance of the highest integrity—the one who believed in a brighter future, and tried to understand what drove me from the beginning.
However, as my gaze turned to the predator to weigh his demeanor, I saw a sudden spasm pass through his form. His head made a quiet snap backward in the hatch, and his hands slipped off of the turret. The human’s legs crumpled underneath his bulky form, as if a rug was yanked from under him. Panic raced through my heart, realizing what had happened; I rushed to his side, and kneeled over his downed form. Samantha also whipped around in the driver’s seat, yelling Carlos’ name through our comms link—to no response.
My eyes peered at the bullet hole through the front of his spacesuit helmet, exposing the human to the vacuum, and the crimson blood bubbling at the cracked edges. Horror took over my consciousness as I scrambled for a way to keep the kind-hearted predator alive.