Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: June 9, 2160
Quana and Gress didn’t mesh, even after I tried to share his story with the Jaslip. The fluffy carnivore demeaned me as gullible for buying his ignorance, though potential dishonesty was unthinkable to me after seeing the look in his eyes. My Krev exchange partner had opened up his soul to me, and I wouldn’t let the quadruped’s vitriol turn me against him. She still spoke to me, perhaps out of gratitude for my earlier aid, but turned cold when Gress was around—offering only vicious growls when spoken to. It was probably for the best that the two rarely interacted for the first few weeks, as General Radai set out to run us ragged; I was pushed to my breaking point physically, and grew accustomed to hurting all over after a day’s training. The former hostage negotiator, meanwhile, was enjoying a more tranquil regimen in comms training.
However, when it came time to start ship exercises—gathering experience on patrols and boarding scenarios—the Jaslip and the Krev would have to work together. Gress was thrust into a role on the comms station, while Quana, Cherise, and I were simple bridge security; our job was to monitor the situation, escort crewmates off the deck under circumstances of disobedience, and to jump in as assistants if needed. We could be ready to board a vessel in a flash. Under peacetime, a large part of our responsibilities might be stopping piracy and apprehending suspects in Tellus’ space. The Krev would help if we requested their aid, but the last thing our settlement wanted was to be a passenger on protecting our own territory. Watching Earth fall had been punishment enough.
“If you want to capture assets for intelligence, you know what that requires? Physical people on board to retrieve them!” Radai squawked. “This crew isn’t smooth enough to progress to ship insertions yet. We’re starting simple—maintain your patrol route while looking for jettisoned cargo. It’s too small to show up on sensors, so what are we looking for?”
“Subspace trails, sir!” I bellowed, along with the majority of the crew.
“Good! Stay alert and vigilant; you need to keep your patrol course while doing that. Comms, query for the local ship traffic logs, and forward it to sensors so they can cross-reference it.”
Gress’ eyes flitted over to his Ulchid partner, who was already firing off the communique. “On it, sir.”
“Good! Show me that you can work as a team, and complete your duties without babysitting. This should become routine, people.”
Cherise began drifting past various stations, eager to be summoned if they needed an extra hand; Quana occupied herself by checking the armory cart’s readiness, and while that was a one person job, I wandered up behind the Jaslip. The patrols were mundane as could be, especially when we were assigned as the bridge watch—unable to screw off like those on duty in the crew quarters, away from Radai’s watchful eyes. The Resket would flip his lid if we didn’t make ourselves useful and stay alert, however, even if there was nothing to look at but empty stars. I wished I could handle some of the duties, yet as quiet as it was, I wasn’t as hopeful for spare work as my security guard friend.
The Jaslip proceeded to rummage through the first aid supplies, ensuring for the umpteenth time that various auto-injecting blood packets were available in case of injury. A smirk crossed my face, imagining how the Federation thought we’d glimpse those and try to drink them like vampires. The amusement fizzled out, pushed back by the knowledge that humanity had been slaughtered for such laughable ideas. Quana tucked the supplies back in their cubby, and I shoved thoughts of that bygone era away. The carnivore’s three tails twitched with equal boredom and restlessness, knowing it would be several hours up in the stars without stimulation. The slim armor along her body was connected to a spine-mounted gun; it’d help the Jaslip move quickly, as a quadruped, while still firing it with her tails.
Every now and then, I see her angle her head toward Gress at the comms station. I wonder if she thinks about disabling the friendly targeting and taking him out—orders be damned. Quana won’t listen about him not being a heartless killer; she fell right into the propaganda.
Cherise wandered back toward us, crouching next to me as I pretended to inspect the weapons cart. “So much for taking the fight to them. The techs got a day of simulated space combat, but here we are, adrift in the stars. I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs.”
“We got a few ground exercises,” I offered. “I know it can’t all be glitz and glamor, but I don’t feel much like a soldier. I don’t feel any closer to fighting the Feddies.”
“I feel like a Krev lap-obor, forced to stare at monsters all day. You know Gress lied about Esquo, and you still fall for his story, Taylor. There’s video proof of my side—what does he have?!” Quana hissed, muzzle contorted in a nasty snarl.
“Gress is my friend, and he’s tried to be nice to you, despite the names you called him and how you remind him of a traumatic incident. He knows he was being unfair. You’re being unfair by not even considering that the Jaslips you think are psychos have an agenda!”
Cherise pressed a finger to her helmet, where her lips were. “Keep your voices down. If you two are disruptive again, Radai might put you out the airlock…and you’ll be the jettisoned cargo to find.”
The Jaslip pinned her ears back. “You still sidle up to the kit killer as well. Is this some kind of primate loyalty—refusal to see what’s right in front of you?”
“Quana, with all due respect, I’m more likely to believe a public servant than extremists who shot their own kids on camera. That’s not a reliable source. I also don’t think that letting children die meshed with any of Gress’ behavior with us. He couldn’t help but pity us after the accident, despite who he thought we were.”
“Gress caused that drill explosion, working you to literal death without a shred of compassion—driving you out of your home for rent they didn’t even need. He puts on a nice face now because you remind him of his pet!”
I crossed my arms, wishing she could see the vicious scowl beneath my helmet. “That’s the thing; Gress wasn’t driving us from our home. Our home is Earth, and the Feds drove us out. I’d want secretive people I thought were Feds gone too, and I’d be a lot less nice about it. The drill exploding falls on me for being a shit negotiator…and watching my own self-interest.”
“Is that what you see in Gress? You both have those two traits in common.”
I balled my hands into fists. “Dammit, Quana. You used to be fun, and you know, I felt sorry for you for a lot of shit. I want to be your friend, but you can’t bear that I think for myself: that I don’t agree with extremist narratives!”
“I’m angry that you crawled right back to being his pet, after you yourself saw it.”
Cherise made a shushing sound again. “Enough! General Radai is giving us sideways glances.”
“General Radai is listening to what you’re saying as well,” the Resket squawked. “Since you three can’t sit still and quiet for a few hours, a permanent separation might be ideal.”
It might be best if Quana was kept away, since she spends half the time egging me on about Gress. I wish she’d chill out.
Without a word to request to stay with the Jaslip, I moved near the elevator and placed my hands behind my back. My brooding thoughts occupied me more than standing at ease, as Cherise apologized to Radai—despite being the one who’d been trying to quiet our bickering. I imagined the Resket would make us all run laps until we wanted to throw up, since he’d already done that to me twice as punishment. Even if it got me into trouble, I wasn’t going to let Quana impugn my closest friend’s honor like that. Gress was a good man who’d had his life ruined by real monsters, and had been set up to be at the heart of a controversy. If the Jaslip kept pushing me, my choice was simple.
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The patrol was quiet, as we wandered our normal route while combing subspace trails. I crept forward toward the rail that overlooked sensors, in the hopes of gleaning something from the screens; if I could pick up enough, maybe I could get a posting as a sensors assistant. It was supposed to be one of the simplest jobs on the vessel, while also giving me something constant to process. I watched how the Trombil and the human on the station whittled down the activity, trying to sniff out whatever Radai had set up. I stifled a yawn, hoping they’d pick up the cargo soon, so we could return to camp. This wasn’t the illustrious freedom fighter career I envisioned—that was for sure. Was I serving humanity at all?
“Sir, I’m picking up dozens of unregistered subspace trails at the fringes of the system…much higher visibility than loosed cargo,” the Trombil stated. “The contacts appear to be still active, and are on an intercept course with Tellus. They appear to have dropped out of FTL before triggering our disruptors, and are proceeding at sublight speeds.”
There was the slightest shift in Radai’s demeanor, but I saw the angle of his head change; it seemed like a momentary jolt of surprise, just enough to suggest this wasn’t a planned, simulated encounter. The Resket maintained his composure, though he’d cleared the gap to the sensors station in a second. Confirming that it was true with his own eyes, he quickly wheeled around—announcing that this was not a test. The general relayed orders to comms to notify both the Consortium government on Avor and Mayor Hathaway’s office on the newly-built up Tellus. Gress risked a glance at me, consternation evident on his face, as he sent word of the incursion back to the delegates.
Who the fuck was in our space? Had the Federation discovered the ark ships, and come to finish us off? My features hardened, knowing quite well the direction they’d come from. We weren’t going to let the prey fuckwits get anywhere near us. I waited for what I already knew to be true, as sensors gathered information on the intruding vessels and cross-referenced them against known schematics; it was fortunate our vault of data from Earth had thought to bring what we knew of their military capabilities. To my surprise, the sensors station had an immediate hit, just from the minimal intel in the Krev’s database from their long-ago scouting. I could feel the adrenaline kicking in, alongside a surge of wrath toward these monsters.
This patrol had become quite real in an instant. Even with faces obscured, I could see fear in the human crew’s breathing and stiff postures.
Gress cleared his throat. “We have permission from Avor to engage the vessels, sir. I’m linked in with the other training ships, and we’re scrambling drone reinforcements. Also, my Ulchid comrade is telling me that the human government is demanding that we fire on the targets. The decision, however, remains yours.”
“Very well. Advance toward the contacts and ready weapons. Has sensors identified the ships?” Radai prompted.
“Sivkit make, sir—large vessels utilized on their nomadic expeditions, as they move from world to world…devouring them,” a human sensors tech answered, a frazzled edge to their voice.
My Krev friend cleared his throat. “We’ve definitely been spotted by the Sivkits. We’re being hailed on multiple frequencies.”
“Don’t answer that,” I piped up, before I could stop myself. “Uh, forgive my intrusion, sir, but what happens if they see a human…hear our voices, or someone gives up a little too much? What happens if they get close enough to glimpse our settlements, or tap into our feed? Tellus has no fucking Cage to protect it, or to hide the activity on the ground.”
Radai’s eyes widened in irritation. “Is that all, Trench? Please, go on; we’re all dying for your tactical input. It’s not like I can weigh the possibilities on my own. You do know we don’t have to show the humans on screen—and we can try to turn them back?”
“Sir, may I have a word?” Cherise ducked her head sheepishly, as an unamused Radai gave a snide “go on” wave of his wing. “I…I think most humans on this ship agree that we can’t let the Sivkits leave, or glimpse any intel. Every second they’re left alive; you have FTL comms, so how do we know they haven’t invented them in the past two and a half decades? They could be reporting this live.”
“As the head of the comms station, my advice is also not to contact them,” Gress interjected. “It could expose the whole Consortium. For all we know, word’s already gotten back to them. Letting them leave would guarantee that they know we’re here, and they come back with friends.”
Radai’s eyes smoldered with fury, displeased with the unsolicited input. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked for it! You are a training crew, and I am the military leader. You aren’t just several rings below me; you’re bottom of the pecking order, and I am the top! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I offered, though my heart wasn’t in it. This was my planet on the line again: not his! If he didn’t attack them, I wouldn’t accept that—and given what Hathaway had transmitted in response, I doubted most of humanity would either.
“Good! If you can’t follow your damn orders, you assholes won’t make it a day in real combat. Lay off the panic, and do what the fuck you’re told. Now turn on automated weapons systems and prepare to highlight the targets as hostiles—subdesignation ‘shoot to kill.’ Don’t do it until we are within range; I don’t want them to have a moment to know what hit them. We strike all at once, as a fleet. These are the most important minutes of you dipshits’ lives, so get it the fuck right!”
I backed off my mutinous thoughts, feeling a rush of pleasure that the Resket general intended to obliterate these bastards. How and why the Sivkits had strayed seven days’ travel from their territory was a question, but that showed that they definitely would’ve crossed Esquo’s path by now; they were a long way from home. Human and alien crew alike scrambled to their various duties, as our formation closed in on the intruders. Weapons activated the computer’s systems—even on a manned ship, manual control of artillery was only a failsafe in the Consortium. Comms went dark with a final transmission to Tellus and Avor, not wanting to give away any intel about our planets’ locale with indiscreet signals. This was the start of exacting revenge for Earth; we’d draw a line in the sand.
We’re not leaving Tellus, and we’re sure as shit not letting them get a whiff that humanity lived; they’d gun for us first to finish us off. The Krev Consortium has these prejudiced fuckers outclassed, and they can keep our survival secret by firing the first shots.
Radai stared at the viewport, watching the burgeoning ships enlarge on the screen. He looked a bit remorseful, burdened by the knowledge that his order would vaporize the thousands of life signatures we saw—and be the opening volley of the Consortium’s inevitable war. The Reskets hadn’t engaged in a true conflict in three decades, so it was likely that his military service had been dominated by peace. Even Esquo wasn’t an all-out space bloodbath, so they lacked the firsthand recollection of interstellar war that we had. I believed that these aliens were different than the feckless Feddies, but I hoped that the general had it in him to do what was necessary. Our hatred for these herbivores was likely stronger than his.
General Radai never looked away from the viewport. “Run a final check on all systems. It appears their shields can’t deflect particle beams, but we can’t be sure. Prepare to manually fire an immediate follow-up as soon as I give the order for targeting and the first one’s away. Be ready to divert power to shields or thrusters in case this doesn’t go according to plan.”
“Yes, sir,” came the various calls of assent.
“Very well. Closing in three, two…target them now!”
The ship’s weaponry revved to life, as the ship AI cleaved through a Sivkit vessel with a rapid, invisible hand. The other training vessels proved their readiness as well, synchronizing their weapon deployment to knock them out all at once. The prey scourges weren’t ready for their shields to be bypassed with a single hit, and the precision of the computers was impeccable; finding the weak spots and obliterating the armor. The drone reinforcements coming up from the outer system zipped up behind the Sivkits, but it proved unnecessary to surround the expedition spacecraft. A chain reaction of fireballs, split-seconds apart, lit up the invading fleet—before only debris remained on the viewport.
I whistled in appreciation, mashing my hands together to cheer; other humans were celebrating as well, basking in the feeling of victory at last. Quana’s whiskers twitched with delight, and she chipped in her own howl. The Jaslip blamed the loss of Esquo on the threat of Sivkits venturing outward, and had also joined the military to help defend us. Our ark ship colony really could protect itself now! This was what we could do with recruits out on a training mission, not with the million-strong armada that Avor had amassed. It meant a lot to us all to finally score a victory against the Federation, after years of hiding and changing our lives to them.
General Radai swiveled around, finally studying each of us. “Forget your earlier mission. Sweep the edges of the system thoroughly, and make sure there’s no more of them. Stay on high alert; we’ll be increasing patrols, in case this was only the first bunch. Or in case they launch an all-out attack when the ships don’t return.”
“I’d like to see them try,” I whispered to myself. “Now’s the time to press our advantage. Push into their space.”
With a staged cargo retrieval gone by the wayside, I trained my binocular eyes on the viewport—searching for any sign of the herbivore savages. My helmet HUD gave info about the epicenter of each vessel’s remains, and I took the time to tally them up; imagining their sudden ends gave me energy that I hadn’t possessed since beginning boot camp. This was what I had been fantasizing about for so long, and it was better than I dreamed once manifested. Humanity’s revenge tour began today, with these eviscerated Sivkit ships.