Chasing the Enemy

Location: Hegemony Ship

Aliens: Rivan, Human, Arhtropoid, Terrovid

“Don’t lose sight of them,” I say to the pilot. Some unnamed cadet I’m not going to waste my time getting to know.

 “Aye, captain,” she says. The viewscreen flickers. The rotten thing is likely about to explode.

 “Fix that screen before I court martial you,” I say to a human at a nearby terminal. I’m not sure if he’s even had maintenance courses yet. If not, I’d rather he electrocute himself and get off my ship. I’m a little mystified as to how he made it onto the bridge. I’m broadcasting an aura of calm determination. It’s working for the most part, but I can feel the human quiver as he tries to pull off the panel below the viewscreen. Where’s an Igneon when you need one?

 “Let’s board them,” Trax says in my ear. He’s gripping a laser rifle so hard I think he’s going to break it in two. My aura of calm determination does nothing to insulate his red hot rage. His bloodlust threatens to come back along my psychic channels.

 “That’s quite enough, Lieutenant,” I say. “Let’s not get our feathers ruffled.” He doesn’t like that. It’s enough to add some aggravation and subtract some outright murderous intent.

 “They’re entering an asteroid belt,” an Arthropoid says behind me. Her antennae are standing at attention, her chitinous fingers click-clacking on her terminal’s keys.

 “Fire at will,” I say.

 “Sir, I don’t have a solid lock. If I miss and hit an asteroid-” a sniveling Rivan says to my left. Makes me embarrassed to be one.

 “To the brig,” I say. Some of the other Terrovid mercenaries I picked up, “reliable” friends of Trax, are eager for something to do. The Rivan is protesting, but I ignore him. The human messing with the viewscreen has somehow gotten the picture to steady. His upper half is still lost in the wires. I command him to not move a muscle. “Anyone who questions my orders will join their friend in the brig. Now, why aren’t we firing on them?”

 “Laying down a blast of suppressive fire,” another Rivan has replaced the previous gunner. She’s much more cold and calculating than her predecessor. I can tell she doesn’t need any help from me to stay determined. I might just end up learning her name before it’s all over.

As much as I hate to say it, the little coward was right. The Confederation ship ahead of us swerves behind a rock and a stray blast breaks it into shards. We fly right through it, likely shredding some of the hull.

 “Hull breach on our starboard side,” the Arthropoid tells me. It would help if these damn things weren’t flying bricks. I can see the confederation ship hit their thrusters and streak off, deeper into the belt.

 “Fire a neutron missile,” I say. Without hesitation, the gunner flips a switch and presses some keys in concert. I feel the fear well up from the others and I maliciously stamp it back down. Let them cower. Only Trax is excited by the news, letting out a whistling chirp.

 “Neutron missile away,” the gunner says. The viewscreen goes white as the missile flies off in the general direction of our prey.

 “Brace yourselves,” I say. The fallout wave from the missile hits us and we rock up, then begin to spin. I’m doing my best to keep my balance without using my arms or hands. These little ingrates will tell tales of me for years to come. “Get us steady,” I shout.

 “Aye, sir,” the pilot says. She’s sweating, grunting with the effort of holding the stabilizer steady. We eventually right ourselves and the ship bobs in the aftershock of the blast. When the viewscreen adjusts, the asteroid belt for a mile around is nothing more than dust.

 “They’re still alive,” the Arthropoid says. “No power to thrusters, it looks like,” she says. “They’re helpless, sir.” Trax is clicking his beak together. Oh alright, I think. Better to give them something to do than deal with bored Terrovids all the way back to Hegemony space.

 “Prepare to board,” I say. “Bring us above them and ready the docking tunnel.” Those that remain are addled, but follow my orders. Finally, just the way I like it. I might just keep a crew for more than a few missions.

 “They’re trying to establish contact,” the Arthropoid says. I give a small nod.

 “We’ve suffered heavy casualties,” the enemy captain says. Assuming the captain wasn’t killed in the blast. “We need medical attention.”

 “You’ll get what I give you,” I say and give the signal to cut the connection.

 The gunner stands from her chair and brings her hands together in a salute. “Permission to join boarding party, sir?”

 “Granted,” I say with a grin. Her ambition is bordering on fanatical, but I’d like to see what happens. “Trax, I would like some prisoners this time.” He begins to object and I hold up a hand. “Show your buddies how to do a snatch and grab. You’ll have your very own massacre soon enough.” I reach up and pat the side of his face. If he really wanted to, he could chomp off all my fingers. But he won’t. His little eyes bounce between mine. He’s too excited for the hunt.

 “Boarding team, away. If they’re beyond minor medical assistance, leave them or take care of them.” The Rivan gives me a “yes, sir”. The Terrovids have joined Trax and they’re too busy squawking and singing their garbled war songs to hear me. The human beneath the screen has yet to move.

 “Come on out,” I say. “You’ll have some interrogations to do soon,” I say. I can feel the sick green of his curiosity mixed with dread. If he’s going to defect and try to help the human rebels I’d rather him do it now so I can kill him myself. “Did you not hear me?” I ask.

 “Yes, sir. I mean no, sir. I heard you loud and clear, sir.” I smile. Maybe I should have humans on board more often.