Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Alien Liaison
Date [standardized human time]: November 13, 2160
The wall of ships in front of Nishtal was comprised of diverse, formidable craft. There were six figures on each side, making this an unimaginable clash of metal war machines. The differences in strategies within the Sapient Coalition’s ranks added personality, and made us harder to account for in a uniform way. Dossur mechanic vessels were hanging by to patch up damaged drones on the fly. Mazic exterminator vessels, once used to rain fire on colonies, were now using their bloated bombing bays against the hostiles. The Harchen’s “Chameleon ships” (as the humans called them) projected a video of the sky behind them on the feed, attempting to blend in. Even the Krakotl’s plasma-focused vessels had gotten an upgrade since their shellacking, attaching their lithe shapes to the top of human warships: along for the ride, free to fire off shots and detach if needed.
There were many more innovations, some of which would undoubtedly prove more gamechanging than others. The Gojid vessels had claws wrapped around the outside of their ship, like a shell meant to stop blows from striking the interior; perhaps this logic was inferred from their natural defensive spikes. The Fissans had ramming ships specifically shaped like their horns, which caused the Nevoks to attempt to compete with them with a two-pronged ramming extension—looking like a human fork. I thought the Venlil’s prior showing blew both out of the water, but it still gave us a different angle. Skalga, Earth, and Leirn had sent about a third of these ships on the defensive lines: not counting their earlier offensives.
Last but not least, there were the Shield offerings, mostly belonging to the SC’s newest, most tepid allies in the Leshee and the Duerten, who brought a more defensive angle. They were lean, well-armored, and geared toward point defenses. There weren’t a lot of them, with the gray avians sending a few dozen and the amphibians offering a few hundred. Then again, even the average Coalition members had only sent about a thousand or two ships. Together, with the major powers’ surplus of ships factored in, we had over a hundred-and-fifty thousand spacecraft to greet the invaders. The situation should be winning for us, having an outright numerical advantage. The question was whether we could save Nishtal from any harm.
If the Sapient Coalition, in all of its might and each member showing up, can’t stop this drone fleet in its tracks, who’s to say they can protect any world? How could they ensure that Bissems are never bombed from the heavens again?”
“The plan is simple,” Onso commented, as every eye in the auditorium watched for the first exchange of munitions. “We attack as one, with all of these ships, the surface-to-space missiles on Nishtal, and an unholy amount of nuclear and antimatter warheads that have been mostly donated by Earth. Kuemper, you were awfully quick to replenish your supply after using them to defend your home.”
The Secretary-General ducked her head in acknowledgement. “We used them to protect our home once. Now, we’re using them to protect someone else’s home. Better to have them and not need them…”
“…than to need them and not have them. The Technocracy lives by that doctrine. We’re about to see a lot more action than we can keep up with, so be prepared for a lot of jumping around.”
The Gojid Prime Minister piped up. “Can we get an update on how each species’ innovations are faring? I’d like to know whether our new Shield of the Protector’s Claws ships work.”
“That name is a mouthful, and I’d advise you to…workshop it. Anyhow, everyone will get a thorough briefing in time, and we will try to show various angles. Your generals also have their own feed and ship data. Overall, our focus is mainly on Nishtal’s health and the broad status of the battle. Watching for weak points and transmitting tactical adjustments in real-time; that’s what our analysts are doing.”
“It’s more devastating to us if we lose our fleet, because we have all of our spaceships here!” Krakotl ambassador Kelsel seemed worried that, even after stapling his ships onto resilient human craft, he might lose the rest of his newly-minted armada. “We lose enough vessels and we’re left defenseless. Even if we win this battle, Nishtal is left defenseless should they return for round two.”
Naltor tapped his microphone, a sage look in his eyes. “Leave tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow. You rebuilt your fleet once. Should you lose this one, you’ll build it again stronger, because that would mean it wasn’t powerful enough to make a difference in combat. Your allies will keep you safe in the meantime.”
“We will stand with Nishtal for as long as it takes,” Kuemper promised. “Ultimately, my friends, there are no Gojid ships, human ships, Krakotl or Duerten ships, here today. There are just Sapient Coalition ships, standing as one. Because of that, I believe we’re going to claim the most commanding victory in our organization’s history today. The question is, do you?”
Onso wiggled his ears mischievously. “Of course I do. We took out twenty-thousand-and-change ships with a few Skalgan scrappers and some slapdash bombs. Now they meet our real fighting force, where numbers are in our favor. Eighty-five percent left to go—should be easy as pie.”
“There’s more Skalgan scrappers and ‘slapdash bombs’ here too,” Governor Laisa commented. “We’ve prepared plenty for this defense, and they’re flying right into our waiting arms. We’re ready.”
The moment approached on screen, with the enemy encircling Nishtal; they looked like an insect swarm from the viewing drone watching from afar above the planet’s north pole. The nuclear warheads were mostly positioned on the planet’s lunar satellite, and I could see them ready to be fired at a moment’s notice. The explosives would provide a quick and easy way to reduce the invaders’ numbers out of the gate. The United Nations had flown in powerful kinetic railguns, since the ship-busting lasers were ineffective against the liquid armor. It all followed their space harpoon gun play, which I knew they’d start off with here. So far, our foes didn’t have an answer to the piercing rods, and I doubted they would compensate for the weapon’s presence now.
The enemy won’t have a response to our plans as long as they’re not relaying our strategies back home to someone. They haven’t made any adjustments since Tinsas or Talsk; we have.
Our feed cut over to the eyes of a Technocracy drone, thrusting our perspective into the heart of the battle. Flanked by tens of thousands of allies, our vantage point vessel surged forward. Sensors revealed human nanodrones, pouring out in mind-bending quantities from the lurking spacecraft carriers. I watched the nuclear warheads crest ahead of the camera; their speed somehow surpassed the swiftness of a starship. That was the cue—fire the harpoon railguns! Poles of tungsten were hurled through the void, as microscopic automatons and thousands of nukes inundated the enemy. Their dust guns couldn’t eradicate enough threats to avoid the preliminary impacts, with telltale flashes amid the endless night.
For the brief moment they lasted, those detonations were brighter than the stars: a literal shining light in the darkness. I channeled Kuemper and Onso’s optimism, allowing my own to make a brief reappearance. I wanted to believe in that swift victory the Terran leader had promised with such confidence. The drone whose eyes we were looking through, zigged and zagged, twirling around particle beam munitions and throwing up missile interceptors. The Sapient Coalition’s fleet felt powerful. This was our chance for us to push the enemy back, and put this entire strike force down for good. From this view, the entire battle seemed much less impersonal.
“That’s what five-digits worth of casualties looks like,” Onso growled. “Now that we’ve hit that figure, it’s time for us to speedrun up to six digits. Wipe them out.”
Our Technocracy drone offered suppressing fire with its particle beams, giving Venlil scrappers a chance to move in. The collisions were almost imperceptible without magnification; once the lens zeroed in on a few enemy hulls for the viewers’ benefit, I could see metal lacerated by the detachment of the ramming point. Venlil weapons carved them up like a fish being gutted, leaving disabled husks and torn bogeys in their wake. Mazics unloaded antimatter bombs to complement their efforts, from ships built only to house those explosives. Our fleet had kept the hostiles far back from Nishtal’s orbital range, so they had no chance to get a crack at the surface. We were ready to shoot down any inbound explosives, even if they did get a shot off.
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The humans pelted the foes with mini-missiles, then harpoons, followed by kinetics, in the brief span I diverted my attention to their efforts. Alternating between every munition we had kept the enemy on their toes. The Krakotl warships, using the docking port to staple themselves to the UN’s bulky fighters, had plasma weaponry covered. While it was ineffective against the hostile drones, they took to picking off missiles lobbed our way. Nishtal’s own surface-to-space missiles had also rode in to badger the enemy, a successor to the Terrans’ warheads. The Technocracy ships looped back in time with the Venlil, reforming defensive positioning. Our foes would come to us in this instance, and might find it to be like running into a brick wall.
Secretary-General Kuemper used a laser pointer to highlight the enemy ships on screen. “If you’ll look across the formation, you’ll notice there’s very little variance in the hostile drones. I think it’s worth noting how much easier it is to gather intelligence with a single ship mold. Also, the uniformity is in striking contrast to our union of multiple species.”
“They’re arrogant. They think these ships are the end all, be all—that they’ve accounted for every possible weapon, and that they don’t need anything different in their fleet,” Onso added. “It reminds me of the ubiquitous design seen in the Federation military. I’d like to know if they’re an unimaginative single species, or if there’s something more at play. It should be enlightening when we acquire some answers at last.”
“The ships are quite good. Yours just seem…a bit better,” Krakotl Ambassador Kelsel countered.
“Oh, they are. So far, the Sapient Coalition has only taken a thousand hits; the enemy is scrambling, from sensory overload with all of the different, unknown threats. Our kill count here in the inner sanctum, hovering around twenty-thousand at the moment, speaks for itself. The kill-to-death ratio only grows our advantage. Now, we keep the heat on them, and can afford to double team them! They’ll be below six-figures any moment.”
The Yotul’s prediction would likely be true, as the Fissans and Nevoks brought their weaker ramming ships in to build on what the Venlil had built. The Nevok’s two-pronged ramming extension was interesting, especially since they could expand and contract the tips. Lining up the proper angle allowed them to take out two ships at once. The Gojids tried to draw the enemy’s fire, while the Harchen’s “Chameleon” vessels were slingshotted closer with engines quiet. The spiky mammals’ drones proved able to absorb multiple hits, with the claws designed to break off from around the craft. The Harchen, meanwhile, caught our nemesis unaware, unloading thousands of missiles and spraying bullets.
The Technocracy drone we watched from had never ceased firing harpoons, even as our rod supply was running low. I felt satisfaction seeing the enemy ship count plummet; we had them below one hundred thousand, and still falling fast. The automaton we were looking through doubled back toward a nearby Dossur mechanic ship; that explained how they planned to restock the space harpoons on the fly. We switched over to peer through a human vessel’s eyes. The defensive formation of our heavy-hitters was designed to lure the hostiles forward, almost as if…
“Something’s hidden there,” I whispered to Naltor. “A cloaked station?”
The Selmer folded his flippers. “I suspect we’ll see in a few short moments. When humans are involved, I hear their fortifications have fortifications.”
“The Tseia could learn a thing or two from that mentality,” Zalk added ominously.
The enemy crested over a cloaked station, which detonated—unleashing its fragments and destructive power right in the heart of the aggressors’ fleet. The Nevoks and Fissans, who’d been nipping near the front lines, were conveniently positioned out of the blast radius. The hidden outpost’s explosion was the most devastating blow yet, consuming thousands of ships on its own. It damaged thousands more, and the Krakotl took the opportunity to pick those off: targeting plasma through gaping holes in their hulls. Just as the enemy had pulled back with suspicion, and all seemed quiet, a second explosion tore through the rearguard. Despite having one’s placement further out, the humans had waited to draw them deeper in. From the starting number of 150,000 invaders, there were now 80,000.
Almost halfway there. Whether there is a third station or not, the hostiles are shooting at empty space now; less bullets shot at us. This is a hopeless fight for them, since we’ve only lost a few thousand ships even with those aggressive actions. We’ll find out if they have a retreat algorithm.
The Technocracy drones had restocked on harpoons, and resumed rattling through their supply. There wasn’t a countermeasure available, short of shooting them down or blocking them, and the enemy didn’t seem to have physical barricades like we had. After letting our foes shoot at empty space, searching out any other cloaked stations, we deployed some physical barriers. I felt a bit confused as we crept backward, getting out of range and hunkering down. The hostiles weren’t stupid enough to wander into another seeming trap; they shot at the barricades. However, once we’d backed up sufficiently to not be the nearest metal object, that was when the Terrans revealed these were no ordinary barricades.
“They’re gigantic supermagnets,” Naltor breathed, as the barriers—large enough to obscure spaceships, and thus yielding a massive amount of pull—were attracted to nearby hulls. “The SC figured out the composition of the enemy frames at the last battle. They’re mines that get attracted straight on top of a ship’s hull; basically turning them into a flying grenade!”
I wished the Selmer general didn’t sound so giddy, like a kid at a fishing dock for the first time. The magnets adhered themselves to the hostile ships, and blew them to flighted status itself; sure enough, the barricades had explosives attached onto them. Drone fragments damaged any other vessels in proximity, a chain reaction formed by the truckloads of barricades. For the tens of thousands of United Nations ships, they each had multiple barriers. Even once the first magnet struck, the invaders scarcely had time to respond to that absolute bounty of mines. With our hand played, and our false retreat allowing more vessels to replenish ammo, the defending spacecraft returned to firing every munition they had.
The numbers had been halved down to 40,000 in one snap of the humans’ fingers. They looked the part of a power that’d defeated a galactic empire in mere months, for the first time since this new war began. It was because they were standing shoulder to shoulder with their allies; the support compensated for their shortcomings, and let them go to town with new machinations.
Ambassador Korajan gawked at the carnage on screen. “Humans are absolute masters of killing inventions, yet you wonder why the Shield fears you. Did you people actually need the wingful of ships we brought?”
“Of course we did,” Kuemper countered. “We still do until no hostile vessels are left standing in an SC system.”
“So, soon. We have more than three times their ship count now,” Onso chuckled.
“We didn’t want this war. But now that it’s here, we damn sure better win it.”
If there had been a shred of doubt in the battle’s outcome, it seemed certain that Nishtal was impregnable. Out of desperation, the invading fleet was unloading every one of their bombs for the planet into our defensive formation; that meant that, even if our vessels all disintegrated now, they’d have nothing to bombard the planet with. The sheer volume of antimatter was enough to stagger us for a moment, and cut down ten thousand ships. It almost seemed spiteful on the enemy’s behalf, knowing they were lost—and trying to take as many of us with them. We had to finish them quickly.
Thousands of harpoon guns were still ripping the enemy apart on our side, ticking down four-digits worth of kills alone within a brief time. The human drone we watched from now captured a second wave of surface-to-space missiles joining the fray. The invaders couldn’t spare any attention to them, and got more hulls smashed in from those explosions. The Venlil moved in to clean up remnants. Even with the ramming stages detached, they had quite the arsenal. The Harchen were still chipping in with hidden volleys, and beat-up Gojid vessels dumped every munition they had on their last legs. The United Nations thought that was the right idea, using mini-missiles to exacerbate the damage.
The unified forces of the Sapient Coalition, six digits strong, eliminated the last gasps of enemy resistance in the system. With only a few hundred ships left, we noticed them trying to warp away and escape: a retreat algorithm. The humans gave chase, relishing the easy hunt in the stars. Nishtal had never come close to being in peril, and the hostiles were routed. I could see the blue avians’ ambassador shaking with visible relief, before flying to the front of the hall. Kuemper arched her eyebrows in surprise, as Kelsel wrapped his wings around her. She hugged back after a moment’s hesitation.
“Look what we’re capable of, when each of our allies shows up to help,” the Secretary-General commented. “I’m delighted to have such a commanding victory in the books, and to have been able to save Nishtal another glassing. Let’s celebrate. To us!”
Cheers erupted throughout the auditorium, and I joined in with my own happy cries. This was exactly the result the Sapient Coalition needed to reaffirm our convictions, and our optimism that we might prevail against an enemy who’d come to destroy civilian lives indiscriminately. As long as we continued to work together in the future, I was certain we could come out on top.