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Chapter 75

Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: November 28, 2136

An observer that only witnessed the clash between the Federation coalition and the humans wouldn’t notice the Kolshians’ strength. But watching Commonwealth heavyweights scrap with the Mazics, it was clear they knew more about martial policy than they let on. Their fleet stayed on the move, with tactics that bordered on predatory. One ship would distract a defending vessel, while others flanked it and cut it off from its allies.

The Mazics had several disadvantages, to make matters worse. They were tied to the defense of Khoa, similar to humanity’s pitfall while protecting Earth. Their ships were also large and slow-moving, as they had to be spacious enough to accommodate the bulky mammals. Speedy cruisers, like Slanek and Marcel’s patrol boat, didn’t exist in their arsenal.

Tyler straightened his jacket. “Gojid, what’s the situation? Friendly casualties?”

“The Kolshians managed some lucky hits with the ambush fleet. Our tally’s down about a hundred, give or take.”

“I should’ve clarified. I was asking about the Mazics. Optically, it looks like they’re getting overrun on the viewport.”

“Good news? The enemy were holding back, until we got here. Needed to drag this on long enough to lure us in. But the Mazics are getting their teeth kicked in, sir. Point defenses are inoperable on both lunar satellites, and their ship count is bleeding.”

Onso maneuvered the viewport, while his reddish ears pricked up. Our warship was blazing toward Khoa’s orbit with the rest of the UN fleet. The lush vegetation across the planet was mixed with city lights, without any ashen patches. Sensors confirmed what my eyes told me, with no signs of residue from a bomb. The six billion souls on world were safe, for now.

However, Federation vessels were encroaching on the Mazic’s inner sanctum. Friendly resistance had become negligible, the marker of an overwhelming defeat. Escape pods were jettisoned from a few craft, but the Kolshians pounced on any they saw. It was bizarre to watch a true herbivore receive predator treatment, just for defecting.

I hope Venlil Prime is heavily fortified. They must be viewed as the biggest traitors of all…the ones to blame for humanity’s survival.

Tyler bit his lip. “This reminds me of Earth. We were powerless to stop them. When our air was venting, and the captain ordered us to abandon ship…I knew we lost. I—”

“You thought it was the end of humanity,” Onso finished. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Makes me nostalgic for the cradle, and that was a fucking warzone.”

Carlos nodded. “It was all simpler then. Sam and I were stationed at the Hague during the cradle landing.”

“Yeah, guard duty was better than playing war crime bingo,” Samantha snorted. “Wonder if we’re ever going to fry…sorry, try those bird bastards. Freudian slip.”

Something flashed in the sandy-haired officer’s eyes. Tyler’s gaze darted over to me, and lingered for a long moment. The tall guy swallowed hard, looking rather distracted. The Yotul seemed clueless to his friend’s deliberation, but I wondered if Marcel’s packmate had stumbled upon my identity. My guards’ previous post implied they would’ve at least sighted Gojid criminals.

Carlos pinched his nose. “Where are you going to find an impartial jury? Or a legal defender?”

“Do the dumplings even deserve a trial at all?” The female guard bared her teeth, darkness swirling in her green eyes. “I think they should commit suicide…you know, by bullet to the back of the head.”

“We don’t execute POWs! Sam, sometimes I really hope you’re being facetious.”

“Yeah, my bad, I guess the rights of murderers are a priority. A billion civvies dead is just a statistic, right?”

As the UN guards bickered, Captain Monahan did a sweep of the bridge. Every station was in smooth order, ready for another bout of battle. Both the Kolshians and the Mazics had noticed our approach; friendlies were flooding our comms station with pleas. It must be difficult for humans to sort out which regions carried the highest importance.

“Do we have an intercept course…Gojid?” Tyler opened and clenched his fist, glowering at his console. “Or should I say, Sovlin.”

I blinked. “Um, sir…”

“DO YOUR JOB! We’ll deal with this later.”

My heart leapt up into my throat, and fear slowed my thought process. Humans hadn’t caused spine bristling in awhile, but my brain knew Tyler was a threat. I never meant for the sandy-haired officer to identify me. All I wanted was to help the UN win this battle, and achieve retribution.

Samantha and Carlos abandoned their squabble. The male guard tensed up, in case Tyler moved to assault me. While I was grateful that he was willing to protect me, I didn’t want his interference. A beating from Marcel’s packmate was the least I deserved; if anything, I wished the herbivore human had struck me during his visit.

Onso gawked at me. “You two know each other?”

“Not—”

“Did I authorize you to chat?” Tyler snarled. “Where the fuck are those intercept routes?”

The Yotul ducked his head. “S-sorry, my friend. I’ve never seen you act like this…it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Not you. You can talk as much as you want, Onso. I need a distraction from this chucklefuck.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, but his knuckles were turning white. I don’t think the big guy realized he was granting a peek of his canines. Captain Monahan drifted past the sensors station, and worry creases lined her forehead. Our commander must’ve picked up on the tension, because she hovered by us for an extra second.

“Status report.” Monahan cleared her throat, rapping the desk. “Got anything for navigations? I’m concerned we might be too late for Khoa.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I squinted at the readout, and chewed at my claws. “N-no viable intercept courses. We can’t get there in time. S-several Federation ships are minutes from orbital range.”

“What if the Mazics stop them, or slow them down?”

“Ma’am, the Mazics are all but dead in the water. I used to…believe the Federation would never bomb their own. I fear that’s wishful thinking these days.”

The Terran captain meandered back to her chair, with a thoughtful expression. My gaze focused on the viewport, trying to block out Tyler’s sideways looks. If nobody was removing me from my duties, I wasn’t going to broach the topic. A predator like myself could be helpful to Khoa’s defense; this was the only way I could justify my existence.

Our warship cruised ahead, well above recommended acceleration. The engines were going to be burned out, when all was said and done. The humans accepted serious risks to save innocent lives; I don’t know how I didn’t see their compassion from the start. The predators intended to stand up for the Mazics, even if on paper, it was too late.

Farsul armor-heavy ships hung back, determining where to insert their presence. The vessels nipped at the heels of any Mazic stragglers, and executed flanking maneuvers with ease. I wondered if these would become the standard Federation model, given the new variables. Humanity’s shield-breakers wouldn’t be as powerful against armored craft.

Those kinetic railguns better have a lot left in the tank. It’ll be like biting on granite, if not.

Mazic assistance calls continued to register on Terran bandwidths. The amount had dipped, which correlated with rapid casualties on sensors. The Federation was on a bombing trajectory, unimpeded; only a few hundred defenders were left. Concern was visible on the faces of many human crew members.

Onso yipped with indignation. “Five vessels of Farsul make, forming a barricade in our path. Should we slow down?”

“No. We should speed up,” Tyler growled. “I guarantee, our nerve’s a hell of a lot stronger than theirs.”

Samantha grinned. “That’s not saying much. But I’m all for painting a bullseye on their back.”

Converted Tilfish gunships, now decked out in UN insignia, hugged our sides. The allied duo broke with our pace, and threw a little extra into the throttle. The Farsul vessels were waiting to put up an ionic barrier. They must’ve noticed the magnetic bombs; it didn’t make sense to establish fortifications that would be knocked out.

Fortunately, our warship still toted our plasma railgun. The five hostiles waited for the tell-tale energy spike, before raising shields. Between the exorbitant armor and the well-timed barrier, our target shrugged off the blast. I could see a gash in the hull plating, but the enemy could seal off the compartment.

Terran gunships went after the damaged foe, but the other Farsul condensed around their weakest link. Armor tailored to kinetics was the predators’ match; these ships were designed to function past shield failures. I wasn’t sure how even the humans could thwart these measures. If combat dragged on, it would waste precious time for the Mazic homeworld.

Onso shoved me out of the way. “We have to reach Khoa. I’m going to take a look, since Gojid Sovlin hasn’t done anything useful.”

My first instinct was to challenge the primitive; this wasn’t the time to make a fool of himself. Did the uplift think he could join a predator exchange program, and magically qualify for tactical roles? Fighting wars in the third dimension was a far cry from tilling fields.

Humans, of all species, should understand how behind the times Onso was. I couldn’t believe he was anything more than the ship mascot. The only reason I bit my tongue was to avoid provoking Tyler further. It was the officer’s job to intervene here, despite any notion of friendship.

However, the Yotul was correct on my inefficacy. Tyler recognizing me weighed on my psyche, and guilt made it difficult to conjure up tactics. Perhaps asking for a transfer couldn’t wait for the battle’s conclusion. Once the marsupial floundered for a bit, I could hand the station over to Carlos and Sam.

“Do ramming tactics work? We could clip them on the side; velocity and mass are in our favor,” Onso said. “Long as we don’t strike them head-on, we should remain operational.”

Tyler stroked his chin. “Navigations will need to find a perfect angle. We don’t want to knock out any vital functions.”

“Well, we don’t even have to take these Farsul out. They’re stationary, they won’t catch us if we pass them. Just need to shove the bastards aside.”

The sensors officer relayed the findings to Monahan, who brought the nav station into the loop. Our warship drifted toward a Farsul ship’s flank; the course adjustment was incremental. The Terran gunships took the lead, distracting our opponents with kinetics. It hadn’t taken humans long to discover how atrocious prey were at multitasking.

Our tail was angled away from the target; that was an attempt to keep the engine secure. Despite my skepticism on an uplift’s capabilities, Onso was quick-thinking. I wondered if he had predator disease, with such a knack for violence. It was one thing with human hunters…but genuine herbivores weren’t meant for aggression.

Are Yotul doctors even trained in signs of predator disease? Do they screen for it in children at all?

Carlos tugged me into a seat, as our collision was imminent. The male guard looked nervous, listening to crash alarms on the PA. In contrast, Samantha’s eyes smoldered with venom; she showed little concern for her welfare. That predator was a kindred spirit in many ways, having lost enough to seek vengeance at any cost.

Our spacecraft broadsided the enemy, hurling it out of our path. The impact sent a jolt through our frame, and my head whipped forward. A harness sucked me back into my seat; I hadn’t even noticed Carlos fasten it. Several predators seemed disoriented by the crash, but navigations managed to retain control.

Onso howled with delight. “You guys are insane! I can’t believe that worked!”

“If you can’t believe it worked, then why the fuck did you suggest it?” I groaned.

Tyler glared at me, eyes stony. “You did great, Onso. If I didn’t need you on the viewport, I’d stick you in that spiky bastard’s place now.”

Not wishing to respond, my gaze shifted out the viewport. The Farsul craft was torn asunder, with its armor caved in from the wreck. The engine had given out as well, leaving it immobile. Momentum flung the enemy well out of position, and likely incapacitated the occupants. I couldn’t imagine inertial dampeners kept up with that drastic shift.

The humans didn’t stop to admire their handiwork, with Khoa within reach. There were no conflicts in the nearby vicinity. Mazic friendlies had vanished from the sensor data, after their final stand. Our comms station had gone quiet long ago, aside from the occasional status request from the surface. I didn’t want to guess at the casualty count.

Captain Monahan was expressionless, presiding over the bridge. How could she retain such stoicism, knowing the imminent tragedy ahead? Humanity had raced to the Mazics’ defense, and wrought havoc on the Federation assailants. Our victory was convincing and swift, enough so to rout the ambush fleet from shock.

Hostiles reached orbital position all the same, and left the predators with no good options. I could see the Kolshians hovering above the green orb, poised to drop their payloads. This homeworld had been stripped of its defenses, and the army was in shambles. We could kill every last enemy, but I didn’t see a way to stop bombs from striking the planet.

“Predator fleet, come in.” The voice crackling over the radio was unmistakably Kolshian. “Change your vector now, or we will drop antimatter weapons on the planet. This is your only warning.”

Murmurs rippled across the bridge, but Monahan raised a hand for silence. UN Command’s orders to take up a holding pattern were immediate; human empathy wouldn’t permit them to sacrifice civilians. Was allowing the Federation to subdue the Mazics a good alternative though? It would turn a valuable ally into a puppet state.

The United Nations agreed upon our captain’s name, when she offered to handle communications. Our battle-tested ship, unfortunately, carried seniority within the hodgepodge Terran fleet. The humans’ original constructions were gutted during the Krakotl invasion; surviving craft were few and far between. Qualified officers were in limited supply as well.

Our captain's position was unenviable, in my view. I wasn’t sure what room there was to negotiate with those tentacled liars, or what an acceptable outcome was. More baffling was that the Kolshians spoke to the human military at all. It was a blessing the predators didn't request my input.

Monahan pressed a microphone to her lips. “Federation attackers, we’ve halted our advance. We’d like to talk. Let’s find a resolution that doesn’t involve innocent bloodshed, alright?”

The captain signaled to the comms station, and the technicians extended a hail. All we could do was wait for the Kolshians' response; predatory might wouldn’t save the day here. A single bomb hitting a Mazic metropolis would kill millions, which forced us to the bargaining table.

It was time to see how crafty humans were in endeavors beyond fighting.