Subject: Drone N436Z984A026 [AKA Naza]

Species: Unknown

Species Description: Humanoid

Ship: Grand Vessel of the Universal Omni-Union

Location: Grand Shipyard of the Universal Omni-Union

"What do you have planned for us?" Forty asked as the aliens led us into the reactor room.

Two of them were in front of us, three of them were behind us. The 'staff sergeant' was one of the ones in the rear, keeping a close eye on our movements. If they even have eyes. Assuming their coverings are armor, the helmets certainly indicate some form of visual perception.

The armor itself was actually quite intimidating. It was as if it were built to make them look as mechanical as possible. The dark green plates were difficult to focus on due to a shimmer that seemed to run over them every now and then. Could it be? Shields?

My ventricular assist device detected my excitement at the prospect of aliens advanced enough to be a threat to the Omni-Union and helped what was left of my organic heart maintain its function. The last time the Omni-Union fought anything near their might was well before I was born. Since then, they've been focusing almost all of their efforts on building the Grand Vessel.

Of course, this means gathering the materials for it, but they haven't encountered anything that can put up enough of a fight to even be worthy of becoming drones. Or maybe they have but they've been keeping it a secret. How else could these beings be explained? They must have been fighting the Omni-Union for years, perhaps even centuries, to develop armor with energy shielding.

"We're going to take you aboard our ship. You'll be safe there," the staff sergeant replied.

"And what of the antigrav generator?" I asked.

"We've rigged it to explode with enough force to incinerate the room and everything in it. According to Omega, it will look as if you were able to stop it from going critical, but were not able to prevent it from exploding. The heat should be more than enough to evaporate even your metallic limbs."

"Oh," I said. "Shouldn't we be going faster?"

"Yes."

"Overcritical," Forty muttered under her breath.

"Say again?" asked the staff sergeant.

"It's not going to go critical, it's going to go overcritical. If it were going to go critical, there wouldn't be any problem," she replied sternly. "I feel that destroying a machine you don't know anything about is very irresponsible."

"I like this one," one of the other aliens said.

"Stow it, Simmons," the staff sergeant replied. "Overcritical, then. But knowledge isn't usually required to destroy things."

"That's not what I me-"

"Forty, it's probably not wise to antagonize our captors," I interrupted. "Especially since they appear to be well-armed."

Forty and I locked eyes for a moment and her anger was plain to see, but she relented and we continued to follow the aliens. Her anger confused me, especially considering that the alien's plan wouldn't kill anyone, but I didn't dare ask about it for fear of triggering a tirade. Perhaps it was her professional pride responding to the destruction of a machine that we spend our lives maintaining. Or maybe it was simply a nervous reaction to our situation.

We reached a sealed-off section of the reactor room that had decompression warnings all over it. The reactor had managed to punch through the hull, then. That couldn't have made things easy on the prior shift. Or for those who will have to repair the breach next shift.

The temporary seal created a whole new room within the reactor room. A new room containing nothing but vacuum. The sight of it was less than comforting, mostly because it was the only way I could think of to get off of the Grand Vessel without a much longer walk. As if to confirm my assumption, one of the aliens stepped toward the door of the seal.

"Wait, there's no air beyond there," Forty warned.

"Don't worry about that. Your primary atmospheric requirement is nitrogen, right?" the staff sergeant asked.

"Yes, how do you know that?" I asked in return.

"Same way we know your language."

"We can't breathe nothing, you know," Forty said. "Your... suits or whatever may protect you from vacuum but we don't have any-"

"Don't worry," one of the other aliens interrupted. "We've set up an umbilical and uh... Aerated the... Room... Thing... Whatever. There isn't a vacuum behind this door anymore."

"Oh."

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The alien opened the door and entered the seal. We followed, and were greeted by a ladder. The ladder, which is a generous description, was made of metal cables and bars strung together.

"Up we go," a different alien said.

The alien began to climb the ladder, which swayed slightly as it climbed. The other alien that had been in front of us followed it, and the staff sergeant gestured to us to indicate that it was our turn to climb. I stared in disbelief.

Forty sighed, then followed the two aliens up the ladder. Feeling more nervous about the ladder than I'd felt about the antigrav generator, I followed her. The ladder led through the hole in the Grand Vessel's hull, which had been gripped by the entrance to an umbilical made of materials that I couldn't identify. Once we entered the umbilical, gravity shifted a little and climbing became easier.

After about a minute of climbing, we entered what could almost be called a shuttle. It was much cleaner than any I'd ever been on, and it also had amenities that I wasn't used to. Like seats. The two aliens that preceded us gestured for us to sit as the other three climbed aboard.

For a moment, Forty looked as if she wasn't going to comply. I put my hand on her shoulder pressed down slightly. She sat with another sigh, and I joined her. A couple of the aliens sat across from us, their weapons pointing in our direction, but not directly at us.

"Where's this ship going?" Forty asked.

"This is a shuttle, not a ship. We're going to our actual ship," the alien across from us explained. "Staffsarnt, isn't there something we're supposed to read to them?"

"I don't know if it applies, to be honest," the staff sergeant said. "Omega?"

"It does," a voice came over the speakers. "A minor issue first, though. We have active signal jammers, so your transponders won't function."

My center brow shot up, wondering how it knew about our emergency transponders. Then I looked at Forty, and noticed a small antenna on the back of her head slowly withdraw. She gave me an embarrassed look.

"It was worth a shot," she whispered.

"Indeed it was. Now, unknown intelligent life-forms, you are hereby detained as prisoners of war. Under the Fourth Concordance of the Unification of Stellar Systems you have certain rights of which you must be informed."

Forty and I shared a concerned look.

"Prisoners of war must be treated with dignity and respect, and will be protected from violence, intimidation, and other forms of abuse."

"Well, that's good at least," I said.

"The only exception to this is interrogation during a war of xenocide," the voice said with what sounded like amusement. "Unfortunately, that exception applies in this case."

"Why?" Forty asked.

Everyone in the shuttle, myself included, turned to look at her with incredulity. Probably. It was hard to tell with the alien's helmets, but the tilted heads were a good indicator.

"The materials for the Grand Vessel come from conquered galaxies," I answered. "To conquer these galaxies, the Omni-Union either kills or enslaves the inhabitants. It's been a long time since a species qualified for enslavement, though..."

"Oh..."

"Moving on, you are to be housed in reasonably safe conditions with adequate food, clothing, and medical care. Since you are not a registered species, you will be responsible for informing your caretakers of your needs. You cannot be punished for participation in hostilities, nor can you be forced into fighting against your leaders. Furthermore, you may not be forced to work in dangerous, unhealthy, or degrading conditions."

"That's an improvement," I muttered.

"The rest of the rights aren't relevant due to the nature of this conflict," the speakers said. "You will be informed if they do become relevant. Do you understand these rights as they've been recited?"

"Yes," Forty and I said simultaneously.

"Excellent. Enjoy the ride."

We felt a slight jolt which must have been the shuttle disconnecting and reeling in the umbilical. My blood ran cold. I was actually leaving the Grand Vessel for the first time in my life.

The Grand Vessel was our home, our work, our recreation, our everything. Our prison. I had long dreamed of leaving and seeking adventure out in the stars. Now it was actually happening, and I felt... Scared. Certainly not how I expected to feel.

"Are you mechanical?" Forty asked the staff sergeant, interrupting my self-reflection.

"A little bit."

The alien reached up to its helmet and twisted it slightly to its right. After a hiss, the helmet came off to reveal a pink, fleshy face with a patch of brown keratinous growth on the top of its head. Its skin looked remarkably like our own, but with far fewer scars and other imperfections.

The other aliens followed suit, and demonstrated similar features. The coloration of their features varied, though, which was something that had been bred out of drones millions of cycles ago. Despite the fear stirring in my chest, my curiosity demanded attention.

"So they ARE suits," I said. "And you're organic. What do you mean by 'a little bit'?"

"My arm and leg are mechanical prostheses," the staff sergeant replied.

"That's by choice, though," the alien with dark brown skin and yellow eyes said. "We have the ability to clone limbs and surgically reatt-"

"Simmons," the staff sergeant interrupted.

"Right, sorry staffsarnt."

"I don't understand," I admitted. "If you can have your flesh back, why do you continue to use prosthesis?"

"Because of the recovery time," the staff sergeant explained. "It can take months to relearn how to operate a limb. I wouldn't have been able to go on this mission."

"I see."

"What's the point of this mission of yours?" Forty demanded. "If it's true that the Omni-Union has eradicated so many species, what do you hope to accomplish against their might?"

"The particulars of our mission are secret."

"We're scouting to find any kind of weakness that can be used against the Omni-Union," the speakers said. "Then we plan to use that weakness to bring an end to their star-stifling madness."

A few of the aliens expressed what appeared to be annoyance at the voice's explanation. But, they didn't say anything. Forty crossed her arms, grappling with the logic of the explanation.

"So... You're soldiers, right?" I asked.

"Marines," one of the blue-eyed aliens replied.

"What's the difference?" Forty asked.

"We're deployed from space. Soldiers are deployed from the ground," the alien replied. "Well, generally speaking. It also takes much less training to be a soldier than it does to be a marine."

"Okay... Well, what are you going to do with us?"

"You'll be taken aboard the USSS Strandhogg, a stealth ship that is currently orbiting the Grand Vessel. Then, you'll be transferred to the USSS Thanatos. From there, you'll be given secured living quarters and likely interrogated."

"Are you the pilot?" I asked.

"No."

"Then why are you talking to us over the shuttle's systems?"

"Because Omega is way more than 'a little bit' mechanical," Simmons said with a chuckle.

"Actually, I'm not mechanical at all. I am an artificially intelligent program," Omega said. "And we have reached the Strandhogg. Prepare to transfer the prisoners, staff sergeant."

Before I could ask for more details, the staff sergeant and the rest of the aliens put their helmets back on.

"Alright," the staff sergeant said. "Stand and face the stern."

I was about to ask which direction the stern was, but one of the aliens kindly pointed. Forty and I turned and watched as the entire wall seemed to open up, revealing a much larger space than the one we were currently in.

"Let's go."