Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2136

Renewed energy surged through my veins, as the fleet coasted within striking distance of the human armada. This was the most important skirmish of our lives. The Terran forces were a ragtag bunch, consisting of a primary cluster of recycled Venlil vessels, a few of their own slow behemoths, and a handful that looked too small to host a proper crew. Our homogenous warships had the advantage of both conformity and technology.

Scans of Earth offered some interesting insights, as we registered several million life signatures in underground structures. I conferred on this data with the fleet, and we agreed to nail those havens first. Human bunkers were not designed to withstand direct antimatter blasts. Once their key hideouts were demolished, major population centers were the second priority.

“Orion advance, ready your plasma guns on the Terran formation,” I chirped into the comms. “Follow this five seconds later with a generous donation of missiles. Everyone will fire on my mark.”

The radio crackled to life with a reply. “How certain are we that we can defeat these predators?”

“It’s a simple math equation. We all act together, and we have more guns than they have ships.”

The Terrans held their position, as we coordinated our target locks. Jala aimed our railgun at a gargantuan warship, which already registered five others pinpointing it. Overkill wasn’t the worst idea, to ensure that the largest enemies didn’t survive. My sensors warned that our fleet was being target-locked in return, and a spurt of munitions were seconds from impact.

“FIRE!” I screeched.

The lights show around me was a marvelous sight, with energy beams zipping between us and the humans. I watched as our target was sundered by various incisions, capping off the largest threat before it began. Other predator craft fell to the sheer onslaught; their numbers couldn’t hold a candle to ours.

We sustained some damage to our frontlines, though many vessels that were hit by the enemy were able to press on. The ships we selected to lead the way were Farsul armor-heavy vessels, by design. They didn’t pack as much in terms of weaponry, but they could absorb more force than the standard craft. In other words, those craft shielded the rest of us.

The surviving human vessels were either nursing grave wounds, or had pulled off lucky evasive maneuvers. I estimated we’d taken out 40% of our opponents with the first strike; the other fronts must be enjoying similar success. The Krakotl fleet wasn’t showing any mercy, and showered missiles at the predators. The hominids left a trail of interceptors behind them, desperately trying to muster some fight.

This is almost unfair, ganging up on such a primitive species. No wonder they wouldn’t engage directly; maybe it was as much pragmatism as cowardice.

The enemy pilots seemed to realize they were falling back toward Earth’s atmosphere. They had no choice but to turn and fight, or surrender orbital supremacy. Our allies were encouraged by their concession; we charged forward with righteous determination. I could feel my own crew’s qualms about battling predators dissipating.

I tossed my beak for emphasis. “Don’t let your guard down. Predators will try anything if they’re desperate enough.”

“Sir, the smaller craft are shooting kinetics and plasma at us, while charging at max speed. Thing is, I’m not detecting any life signs,” Jala chittered. “Have the humans found a way to hide from our sensors? They might be concealing some bunkers.”

Confusion rippled through my plumage. “I doubt even humans made advances against technology they barely understand. The pilots could have just ejected, and left the vacant ship on a collision course.”

“You didn’t listen to what I said. The craft are still firing on us, and making course corrections. There has to be a pilot!” she protested.

My talons tightened around my perch. Those Terran ships didn’t seem to be steering on a pre-set course. Before my eyes, one of them whirled out of the way of a plasma beam; it performed a total thrust reversal on a dime. I didn’t know how anyone could calculate that fast, or how the lapse in gravity wouldn’t cause a pilot to pass out. Hell, the g-force should crush an organic’s skull.

While predators in movies were nigh unkillable, that was not reality. Those maneuvers were impossible. The only conclusion was that those spacecraft were flying themselves, and killing based off some sort of algorithm. How could a computer ever learn strategy…and even if it could, who would risk implementing that function into its programming?

I leaned over the comms. “The smaller craft are fighting without human input. I believe they’re ordered to crash into us at max velocity. FOCUS ON THEM!”

Hundreds of railguns pivoted toward the threat, and a slew of missiles greeted the pilotless-craft as well. If our readings were correct, these robots seemed reliant on nuclear power. The plasma jets they unleashed at close range were tied to those systems. The humans had skipped right to inflicting the most damage possible. A single hit burned through even the Farsul ships’ hardened exterior.

It's actually quite clever, to not have to worry about losing pilots. They don’t have to fuss over containing reactions from weapons, or expending power on life support.

The Terran automatons were decimated when we managed to connect, but they reacted quickly to our threats. We had to focus multiple warships on a single one, to make sure it couldn’t calculate us to death. Several reached their targets, and rammed nose-first into the armored front line. Our hardiest ships took significant losses; the humans were determined to take them out of the equation.

Jala singled out aggressive predator vessels, and provided suppressive fire for our allies. We advanced deeper into their territory, knowing human fervor would render them reckless. Their crater-pocked moon passed alongside us, a landmark of our goal. Defense satellites minced us with lasers and gunfire, but they were idle targets to be taken out.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The predators were retreating in gradual increments, and their scattered formation was on the brink of collapse. These stalling attempts, inventive or not, were futile. In a few thousand kilometers, we could commence the orbital bombardment.

“Sir, the humans are broadcasting a message fleetwide. Should I discard it?” the comms officer asked.

I sighed. “Let their last words be heard. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Federation fleet, we advise you to turn back now. We took the liberty of informing the Arxur of your departure.” The audio transmission had no video, but the booming voice was jarring even without a visual. “If you return now, you might arrive in time to save your planets. You’ll need the artillery you’re going to expend on Earth. We will accept your surrender and allow you to return unimpeded.”

A stunned silence swept across the bridge. Every crew member was undoubtedly recalling their home, and the people we left behind. Nishtal was our birth planet, a marshy paradise with floating cities and breathtaking algae blooms. It didn’t surprise me that the humans would guarantee it fell alongside Earth; that was predatory spite.

But the thought of returning to Nishtal, to see every stilt-tower and ceremonial nest obliterated, cracked a small piece of me. That wasn’t even considering how the Arxur would ravage our population. What egoistic predator didn’t take prizes of its hunts, after all?

Friendly radio chatter cropped up again. “The Arxur are coming for us? I’m sorry for listening to one of those fiends, but we have to save our homes!”

“She’s right,” another captain agreed. “Shouldn’t we at least send a part of the fleet back? We never should have left Nishtal unguarded.”

“Take heart, my friends. The humans are bluffing; we have them scared shitless.” I didn’t believe the primates were fibbing, but this mission had to be finished. Whatever the cost. “Do you think it’s possible to talk to the Arxur? The predators want to manipulate our empathy, and use it against us.”

The last part was true, though I found it improbable they’d stake that wager on a falsehood. The Terrans hoped they could wield our compassion for our brethren against us. They probably understood how we felt, seeing our homes vulnerable and under siege.

This was a cost I could barely find the strength or the logic to commit to. Odds were, a few hours wouldn’t make a difference on this scale. Our fleet would be disorganized, and short of ammo, whether we accomplished the objective or not. The question was whether any other species could survive through our sacrifice.

“But what if they are telling the truth?” came the retort across Federation channels.

I lowered my eyes. “Then we’ll be out of here in a few hours. If the Terrans survive, they will just join forces with the Arxur. Humans are untenably violent, and they’ll want revenge. There is no choice but to eradicate Earth.”

The fleet rallied behind my words, finding their conviction restored. There was nothing to stop the humans from following our subspace trail, and unleashing their retribution on our cities. It was far too late now to walk back any attack; predators didn’t forgive or relinquish grudges.

The first bomber group barreled toward the line of Terran ships, who were behaving strangely. I watched as they backed away, and left massive gaps in their formation. Why were they giving our vessels a path to break through? Either they were extraordinarily cocky in anticipating our ‘surrender’, or this was a trap.

Thousands of missiles slammed into our spacecraft seconds later, hailing from the direction of their moon. The explosives demolished any ships they touched; I was stunned to see radiation amidst the readings. These items could only take out one ship without shockwaves, but the missile contacts numbered half of our vessels. The fact that the predators stocked that many nukes on Luna…

Why do the humans have such an oversized supply of city-killers? What reason could they have to point them at their own world from above?!

“Deploy all missile countermeasures!” I shrieked into the comms. “Destroy every structure on their moon. I’m sure that has to be the last of it, but…”

Just as the Federation fleet began compensating for the nuclear deluge, the humans deployed another staggering missile wave. This salvo was also in the thousands, begging the question of just how large their atomic cache was. No wonder our scientists thought the apes irradiated their world; it wasn’t for lack of trying!

Jala spotted a military complex near us, and dropped an antimatter bomb onto the lunar coordinates. As much as I hated to waste extermination supplies, I didn’t question the necessity of stopping the nuclear assault. Every bomber who forged ahead was getting buried in radioactive warheads; there were only so many explosives we could shrug off at once.

The Terran defenders camped by the orbital threshold, hurling plasma at anything that moved. Thousands of our ships had succumbed to the mindboggling missile count; we were still trying to swat the remnants away. With our numbers whittled down, the humans smelled blood. Our attack force suddenly seemed a bit more manageable.

I flapped my wings in irritation. “We have to find a way through the wall, and quickly. Any suggestions, Jala?”

“Well sir, there is a small gap by the northern polar cap. The predators are overextended,” my sociopathic second replied.

I blinked. “Good thinking. That is where we can break through, and pick our mark.”

My mind wandered as I relayed assignments. The first item was delegating our quickest ships to rush through the enemy opening. Our entire lead bombing unit was atomized, so the swift cruisers were the obvious replacements. I figured the humans would try to stop any advance. The second our people started moving, we needed to block the predators from sealing the gap.

Earth looked depressingly beautiful, as I studied the viewport. White clouds formed a veil over tan landmasses, which were divided by rich oceans. I was relieved that this skirmish was almost over. Savages or not, it was impossible not to feel sorry for the humans. There was exquisiteness and wonder in what they had built.

And I knew there were plenty of us left to get the job done.

“It’s been an honor serving with each of you. Let’s finish this, so we can all go home,” I croaked over comms.

Federation cruisers bolted toward a vacant space in the Terran formation, and pushed their engines past recommended limits. Our warship joined the masses surging forward; the walls rattled as we careened into position. The non-essential ships formed a metal shield between the cruisers and the humans gunning to intercept them.

An angular Terran behemoth sauntered toward us, not even slowing down as we hovered in its path. My nav officer took evasive maneuvers, and ducked their uncontrolled plasma and missiles. The humans weren’t taking the time to aim! I could almost hear the predators begging us to stop, and guilt tugged at my heart.

The massive ship launched dozens of smaller craft from its hangar bay, but they were spliced up by our kinetics on arrival. Those scrawny fighters were easy pickings for us. The spacecraft carrier found itself target-locked by a murderous Jala. The female Krakotl showed no emotion as she directed a missile through a hangar, circumventing its armor.

“Yes!” She leapt up with enthusiasm, as the predator ship erupted into pieces. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We’re blocking them from getting to the real target…and these humans are forced to watch.”

An appropriate somberness overtook the bridge, as the rest of us processed her words. There was nothing amusing about what we were slated to witness. It was difficult to remember that it was just business.

Fifteen Federation cruisers slipped past the humans, with the timely help of the allied fleet. They crossed the final kilometers to orbital range, and scoped out the exposed planet below. I watched as the predators flung everything they had at the attackers, knowing full well they were out of reach. Time seemed to freeze around us; this was a moment that would reside in my nightmares.

The payloads struck home after a painstaking eternity. Bright flashes dotted Earth’s continents, and the anti-matter purification wiped away our first human targets.