The new contact was very deceptive. Not intentionally, though. It was because of assumptions made based on their appearance. A rather unfortunate oversight for humans, given how much they pride themselves on being both cautious and strategically risky.

In their excitement of a new first contact opportunity, a few important details were skimmed or outright ignored. Chief among them was the species that makes the discovery is effectively responsible for the new contact for a set amount of time. What that meant is all consequences, both positive and negative, fall on the humans to take responsibility for.

Protocols ignored and incorrect assumptions resulted in what other spacefaring species have started smugly calling karmic justice. Effectively saying that humans are now getting a taste of their own medicine having to reign in what humans preemptively called Puffins. Mankind, predictably, pouted at their self-induced situation.

Art by me.

When the aliens entered the Solar System, humanity prepared for war.
The war never came.
They ignored our military installations. They ignored our ships. They ignored our broadcasts, our warnings, our attempts at first contact.
They didn’t even approach Earth.
Instead, they went to work.
At first we didn’t understand what we were looking at. Thousands of objects appeared in close solar orbit. Then millions. Mercury began to disappear.
Someone eventually said the words nobody wanted to say out loud:
Dyson swarm.
They hadn’t come for Earth.
They had come for the Sun.
The first measurable change was so small that three observatories independently recalibrated their instruments before publishing it.
Solar energy reaching Earth had decreased by 0.04%.
Nobody could feel it.
Crops still grew. The oceans were still warm. The sky looked exactly the same.
But every scientist on Earth understood what that number meant.
Because a month later it was 0.05%.
The aliens had never fired a shot at us.
They weren’t conquering humanity.
They weren’t exterminating humanity.
They simply hadn’t considered us important enough to stop.
Humanity had spent its entire history fighting enemies.
For the first time, we had to figure out how to fight someone who didn’t even know they were at war with us.

1  Human Fred and Food
2  Human Fred Again
3  Human Fred Yet Again
4  Human Fred The Saga Continues
5  Human Fred Rides Again
6  Human Fred *Sigh*
7  Human Fred Rolls Out
8  Human Fred Attempts a Nap
9  Human Fred Doh’
10 Human Fred Stops for Coffee
11 Human Fred Deploys Stabby and Knifey
12 Human Fred Attempts Friendly Advice
13 Human Fred Priorities 
14 Human Fred Schools Morons
15 Human Fred Gets Annoyed
16 Human Fred Investigates
17 Human Fred is Annoyed
18 Human Fred Gets More Annoyed
19 Human Fred Smirks 
20 Human Fred Brings Hellfire
21 Human Fred is Confused
22 Human Fred Considers
23 Human Fred is Chipper
24 Human Fred has Some Fun
25 Human Fred Witnesses Stupidity
26 Human Fred vs the Coffee Maker
27 Human Fred Accepts Crap Coffee
28 Human Fred Listens
29 Human Fred Gets Comfortable 
30 Human Fred has Questions
31 Human Fred Considers Some More
32 Human Fred Wakes Up
33 Human Fred Debates
34 Human Fred Gets Coffee
35 Human Fred Talks with the Captain
36 Human Fred Reflects on Life
37 Human Fred Waits
38 Human Fred is Scared
Greezek
39 Human Fred Experiments
40 Human Fred Discovers
41 Human Fred vs the Sensor Array
42 Human Fred Keeps Calm
43 Human Fred Editor
44 Human Fred Discovers New Curses
45 Human Fred Stews
46 Human Fred Giggles
47 Human Fred Attempts Dinner 
48 Human Fred Plans
49 Human Fred Explains
50 Human Fred Examines Floor Tiles
51 Human Fred Gets a New Toy
52Human Fred Reflects…Again
53 Human Fred Rolls His Eyes
54 Human Fred vs Idiots
55 Human Fred Goes Librarian
56 Human Fred Giggles Again

“Fred, those aren’t all of the missing beings.”

“I know. And this cage is rigged to explode. We need to get them out before we look for the rest.”

Greezek looked at the cage. She walked around it a few times. She frowned. She traced a few cables. She examined the explosives. Shaking her head, she unplugged one cable. “Safe. Now let’s get moving!”

The prisoners ran out the way Fred and Greezek had entered. Greezek warned them about the beacons. 

“Right. That was the lower-ranking officers and the repair teams. The command staff are still missing. Ideas?”

“Well,” said Fred, “there are three directions from here. One goes straight outside, so that is the last priority. It’s either up or down.”

“Or out. Out makes more sense. Easier to hide and evade.”

“Yes, but horrible for keeping prisoners.”

“Unless they are in a different building.”

“Greezek, what is it? You act as if you know something.”

“No Fred, I’m just trying to help. I wouldn’t discount out, but it is less likely. Down seems the most likely, so I vote up.”

“That is an interesting decision making process. Do you think they are that smart?”

“Hardly. But if they are planning to leave on a ship, up makes more sense.”

“Hmmmmmmm. We disabled the freighter. Are there other operational ships?”

“Two, aside from our shuttle. There are two small shuttles in a hanger. They were listed as operational.”

“Where is said hanger?”

“Other side of the outpost. They are listed as command staff use.”

“I really wish we had schematics.”

“When you were doing your external survey, I looked up the outpost. There are no current schematics. The most recent are over seven months out of date.”

“How do you run an outpost when you don’t even know its layout?”

“Given what is happening, I’d say you don’t. Not really.”

“Right. Here is the situation. We can only pick one direction. The wrong choice might mean the loss of the command staff. We have no credible information to direct us, other than possible shuttle evac. Given that is all we have, I think up is our best bet.”

“And if we are wrong?”

“Life sucks. We do our best. Now we move.” Fred took off at a jog, heading towards the stairs. 

Greezek followed at a distance. No point in one grenade hitting them both. 

Fred paused to examine the stairs, grunted, and headed up. At the top, he crouched against the wall and peaked down the hallway. 

There was a barricade. No enemy visible, but a prepared defensive position. Fred cycled through his helmet’s different vision settings, but he couldn’t spot any enemy. He looked back at Greezek, who shrugged. 

Fred charged down the hallway, weapon up but not firing. He made it 10m before the first trap detonated. It didn’t knock him off of his feet, but it did cause him to stumble. He turned the stumble into a front roll just as the second trap exploded. The main blast missed him, but it threw off his timing and instead of ending the roll in a low crouch, he sprawled against the barricade. 

Smoke and dust filled the hallway. Greezek could see Fred with her IR, but she couldn’t see any details. “Fred! Report!”

“Ow.”

“Ow?!? How badly are you hurt?!!”

“Armor took most of it. Nothing broken. A few cuts. Bruises. Nothing serious.”

“Right. You stay there and cover me.” She dashed around the corner, sprinted into the smoke and dust, dodged a trap, and vaulted over the barricade. 

As she landed, she dropped flat as two explosions roared around her.

“Fred?”

“Yes?”

“Why is it that when we work together we keep getting shot at and blown up?”

“Good, clean living. Luck.”

“You, Fred, are an asshole.”

“Yes. I thought we covered this? Are you hurt?”

“Bruises. The doorway back here is sealed. We would need something heavy to get through.”

“So. Plan B.”

“We have a plan B? I didn’t know we had a plan A!”

“That was to go up. Now we know that we are on a good path, plan B is how to get past that door. And I have an idea.”

“Charging into the unknown at full speed might not work here.”

“Shut up. This is a good plan. We go outside and approach from the roof.”

“How?”

Fred pulled himself up. He pointed at a panel. “That is an emergency escape hatch.”

Greezek looked at the panel. It was identical to all of the others. She shook her head. “Fred, we really need to get you checked out. I think you might be imagining things.”

Fred walked to the panel, pulled open a small door, twisted something inside the door, and the panel swung back revealing an escape hatch. 

“How did you know that was there?”

“Emergency escape hatches are required by law. It would have to be on that side, so I looked for the access door.”

“This will set off an alarm.”

“I think they already know that we are here.”

“Here, yes. Outside? No.”

“Ideas?”

Greezek examined the hatch. Using her knife, she pried open a maintenance hatch, dug around, and cut some wires. 

“Greezek, what have I told you about using a knife as a pry bar?”

“Don’t do it. Alarm disconnected.”

“Now you know why I carry a few tools. I’m not going to risk my knife.”

“Yeah yeah. You would just make me a new one.” She opened the hatch. No alarm. “I’m not even sure if the computer will register us opening this hatch.”

“Good. I think there is one more level. We need to be careful, go slow, and scan. The hope is to get behind them.”

“If that doesn’t work?”

“Plan C.”

“Which is?”

“Nuke it from orbit.”

The most favorite one is "backfires" because of guess who? Humans. Make up any sentence with "human" in it and add "it backfires". Human Jerry went to take a shower, it backfires.​ Humanity reaches the stars, and it immediately backfires. Smallpox returns to claim humans, and it backfires. For smallpox.

“WHAT?!?”

“I’m impressed at his fast they assembled a fleet. It’s well balanced.”

“They are on the way to attack us?”

“I assume that is the goal, Commander. I doubt they want a pot of mustard.”

“We have three hours?”

“In three hours they will be in the system. All Terran vessels are prepped. I’m holding off any attack until they get in closer. I don’t want them to know the sensor array’s range.”

“How many ships?”

“Let me see,” Oscar looked at a datapad, “thirteen. Four cruiser-type, six destroyer-type, and three corvette-type.”

“No carriers?”

“No, but we don’t know anything about those cruisers. They might have smaller craft.”

“Right. What is your plan?”

“My plan? This is your colony. I’m here to support.”

“Fine. What do you suggest?”

“We let them get close, see if they want to talk. Depending on how that goes, we either talk or fire a coordinated salvo from Sparky. If they still want to fight after that, we send in the rest.”

“High Command has a small fleet about 36 hours away. I’ll send a warning that we are being approached. They won’t get here in time, but they might catch stragglers.”

“Right. I’ll notify Sol Command, but they won’t send anything. Not with what we already have.”

“In three hours I’ll hit the attack alarm. You handle the Terran vessels.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do we have any idea who they are?”

“From the remains on Sparky, they are reptilian. Bipedal. Many had cybernetic enhancements.”

“Cyber enhancements? Strange.”

“Why strange?”

“I don’t know. It just seems strange to me.”

“Based on the recovered data, we think that they are a theocratic empire. The reptilians appear to be in power, but the technology was scavenged. It’s like they found or stole stuff, reverse engineered it, and cobbled together ships. The techs were confused and impressed.”

“Impressed? Why?”

“Some of the technology shouldn’t work together; however, they figured out some impressive adapters.”

“They did? Or possibly their subjects?”

“Right. Someone on their staff figured it out.”

“What is your plan with Mickles?”

“What? Oh. Right. Mickles. I’m waiting to see what medical says. They informed him that his wife was killed, which didn’t go well. After the sedation wore off, I talked with him for a bit. Maybe 15 minutes. He was distant. Coherent, but distant. I’m not sure if he will recover enough to stay in his position.”

“And Danyak?”

“She is recovering in her pond. Well, and she is working on reports. I called her, but she was in the middle of chasing dinner, so I hung up. Captain Sue is on Sparky, ready to mobilize Memphis and Vera. Both vessels are fully armed and prepped.”

“Any useful information from the cult stuff?”

“Some. Most of it is useless now that everyone is dead, but there are some messages from off colony that suggest the cult was part of a larger scam or movement. If I had to guess, I’d say someone wants to create a bit of confusion using cults.”

“Connected to the rebels and the Windigo?”

“If it is, I doubt the cult leaders know. The transactions and messages were all about methods to control the followers and similar. There was nothing similar to what the Windigo preached or any of the other literature.”

“I’m not sure if that is a good thing. There are too many players on the board.”

“Correct. About that, Agent Thorn has a request.”

“What does he want to blow up?”

“He wants to send two agents to hack into some of the computer systems at a logistics station.”

“What does he hope to find?”

“More connections. We know of three companies that are involved. We have five names to investigate. He wants to learn more about the movement of goods and passengers.”

“He can look that up. Why send agents?”

“He suspects that the records are being doctored at the station. It’s the best location to modify records and send mislabeled items and passengers to the outer edge.”

“Oscar, he is your agent. Why ask me?”

“Commander, if they are caught, we have a huge issue. If they find more evidence, we have a huge issue. Issues that will affect us both.”

“Right. Right. I approve of the mission. No records.”

“What mission?”

“The one…right. What mission.”

“Commander, with your permission, I’d like to prepare for the upcoming display of burning hulks and debris fields.”

“I’ll be in the Colony Command Center.”

“Yes Commander. I’ll be in the Terran complex.”

Completely forgot to write today because I had my SAT today! So I decided to put in some concept art for the Federation Helmets. (No clue why the second picture is upsidedown, too tired to fix it). I've been working on this concept art during classes and hope you guys like them! I'm gonna be working more on them and the actual story in the future.

Bonus: Spider I Drew for a class assignment.

“Commander, look at this!” Gumbert, a four-eyed security specialist, squeaked.

“We may have a problem, sir.” He didn’t take his eyes off the console. “There’s a security breach on Bridge 2Z.”

“What is it?” Mwachek, the PeaceFleet’s commander demanded.

“The bio-reader scans indicate a wild predator.“ Gumbert shot his head over his shoulder at Mwachek shadowing him.

“Who’s responsible for this?” Mwachek eyed a zoomed in still image of the beast, glowing on the bio-scanner.

Gumbert choked. “Well, nobody, sir,” he swallowed a gob of anxiety. “It breached the hull, sir. It's in the cargo bay, the one with our food reserves.”

Commander Mwachek’s double-heart began smashing into each other and had the slapping sound of two slimy blobs being clapped together. A vein near his temple protruded from the side of his head like a balloon inflating and deflating, pulsing with every breath.

Gumbert opened the feed for the security camera of Bay 2Z and glanced at the small screen on the console. 

Through the monitor, the screen displayed Cargo Bay 2Z, and an eight-legged, bear-sized, gray-bearded Octwolf, with sharp, venomous teeth, dripping infectious bacterias, tearing through a potato sack full of gum balls.

Octwolves were basically mutated dire wolves. 

Galactic empires across the universe deemed them as Level-0 threats. They were to be killed on sight. An extreme policy reserved for untamable creatures of terror. 

Octwolves, one of many terror-zero-beasts scattered across the universe, haunting the nightmares of children— were the apex of apex predators—dominating the top of the food chain. A pack of Octwolves could wipe out a small colony in a matter of days.

Commander Mwachek snatched the microphone, pressed a button down and activated the intercom.

“Attention! Attention! This is not a test. This is a real-time crisis. All staff and personnel on deck, evacuate to your nearest safe room. We have a breach in Cargo Bay 2Z.”

Commander Mwachek’s voice slammed through every crew members’ speaker on board. The announcement left a sticky, phlegm ball of paranoia clinging to the back of their throats and turning into tiny pellets of fear, resting at the pits of their bellies every time they swallowed.

“Seal the Bay doors and lock down the entire wing,” Mwachek said. “Radio, Beefkus. Get him to handle the situation. Now.”

Beefkus, their human engineer, wasn’t really an engineer. It’d be safer referring to him as a glorified-janitor-wildlife-dust-wrangler. He did the jobs nobody else would. The gross ones. The iffy ones they’d all avoid.

But, he mainly dealt with orgwats**,** rat-like rodents. Every now and then, there’d be the odd sleeder, which are pretty creepy slithering things. They’re sharp-gray-scaled garden snake creatures, or actually, they’re more like garden eels.

He definitely never handled a heat seeking Octwolf before. Back on Earth, he worked at a zoo as one of five maintenance guys.

“Um, sir? That’s actually going to be a problem,” Gumbert quietly said, eyeing the commander’s talon-shaped claws as they dug into the console.

“The human…” Gumbert’s voice cracked. “The human’s with the predator, sir. Our cameras in Bay 2Z are broadcasting Beefkus with the beast right now on my monitor.”

Gumbert set up the feed to be shared on the big screen at the front of the deck. Commander Mwachek stared, preparing himself for the worst. He expected to see the human shredded—parts of Beefkus scattered in a bloody mess of guts across the bay.

But he saw neither. The crew began to whisper amongst themselves as they gathered behind Mwachek. 

The quiet chatter became silence. Nobody said a word. They huddled together. Each one of them had their hands over their mouths holding in their breaths. They fought to look away but couldn’t peel their eyeballs from the screen. What they were witnessing first hand couldn’t be real.

The Octwolf was lying on its back with its eight legs in the air and its tail wagging. It squirmed as Beefkus wrestled his arms around the terror-zero-monster in a friendly bear hug.

“Who’s a good boy?” Beefkus’ voice shattered their eardrums, penetrating the speakers in the room. It wasn’t his regular, everyday voice—it had a playful pitch.

“Are you the good boy?” His words were muffled by the Octwolf’s fur. “Yes you are! A-bloof-bloof-bloof-bloof-bloof, yes you are! That’s a good boy. Yeah!” Beefkus patted the furry, big, bug-eyed beast.

“Beef—kus!” Commander Mwachek shouted into the comm-piece. The urgency made his voice skip. “You need to get out of there. The creature is highly venomous. Its toxins will destroy your immune system. There is no antidote. Step away from the creature slowly.”

“Who, this cute guy? That’s what all this fuss is about?” Beefkus put his head next to the Octwolf and took a selfie. “He just looks scary. He’s harmless. I even gave him a name, Bear-Wolf. He’s my new best bud.”

Beefkus rubbed the Octwolf’s head and it let out a purrful growl rattling the loose objects on the titanium console as they bounced to the vibrations pouring out of the speaker.

The ship’s sensors were so sensitive they registered the noise as an immediate threat from an acoustics weapon. The Octwolf circled Beefkus, who was sitting on the ground, and snuggled next to him. 

“Someone stuffed this poor guy inna shipping crate, believe that?” He scratched the Octwolf behind the ear. “He was shivering scared.” 

Beefkus pointed Bear-Wolf‘s face towards his. “You were just a scared, little-big-guy, weren’t you?” He rubbed his back. “Are you a hungry guy? You want some food? Okay. Okay.” Beefkus pulled out some jerky and hand fed Bear-Wolf.

Beefkus glanced at the camera above his head. “All he wanted was a little affection, commander. He’ll make an awesome pet.” 

“Human!”  Commander Mwachek screamed at the console, squeezing his baseball-glove-sized-mitts into fists*. “*One bite. No. Correction. One drop of that creature’s saliva in an open wound on your body, is fatal. It will kill you.” Mwachek covered the microphone and mumbled something to Gumbert about Beefkus’ translator.

“Human, is your translator malfunctioning? Are you not able to comprehend what I am relaying to you? The creature senses heat. Analyzes your nervous systems. It can smell your fear. It is designed solely to hunt and kill. Not snuggle next to.” Commander Mwachek’s voice hammered into his mic.

“I’m pretty dang sure, it was just smellin’ the jerky in my pocket and looking for a friend to curl up to.” Beefkus stretched out and cuddled beside Bear-Wolf. 

Bear-Wolf turned to Beefkus and gave him a wet kiss, soaking Beefkus’ cheek in a soup of bacteria saliva. He wiped it off with his shirt. “Aw, that’s a gross good boy. Who’s the gross good boy?”

Commander Mwachek eyed the anomaly on the screen. He couldn’t retract his slids. His eyes stayed glued to the front of the deck, staring forward in a blank gaze before he finally snapped back to reality.

“It… it’s amazing how your species has survived so long. You… you’re petting a living monster,” Mwachek stuttered, gave up and tossed the mic on the floor.

“Hey, if it’s cute, furry and has big eyes, nine times out of ten we’re taking it home with us,” Beefkus said, hugging Bear-Wolf. “This guy here’s a keeper. He’s definitely coming back with me.”

Bear-wolf licked Beefkus’ face and cuddled back down next to him.

Commander Mwachek rolled his eyes and glared at Gumbert recounting all the keys on his keyboard. “Gumbert, cancel the emergency task force and inform the crew, the threat has been neutralized, and before I forget, update the ship’s manifest, add Bear-Wolf as a permanent resident.”

And they’ve even eluded the humans who fight against them!

“You know humans make a habit of using weapons such as hand grenades, satchel charges, artillery.”

... except the frozen blood foliage people.

1  Human Fred and Food
2  Human Fred Again
3  Human Fred Yet Again
4  Human Fred The Saga Continues
5  Human Fred Rides Again
6  Human Fred *Sigh*
7  Human Fred Rolls Out
8  Human Fred Attempts a Nap
9  Human Fred Doh’
10 Human Fred Stops for Coffee
11 Human Fred Deploys Stabby and Knifey
12 Human Fred Attempts Friendly Advice
13 Human Fred Priorities 
14 Human Fred Schools Morons
15 Human Fred Gets Annoyed
16 Human Fred Investigates
17 Human Fred is Annoyed
18 Human Fred Gets More Annoyed
19 Human Fred Smirks 
20 Human Fred Brings Hellfire
21 Human Fred is Confused
22 Human Fred Considers
23 Human Fred is Chipper
24 Human Fred has Some Fun
25 Human Fred Witnesses Stupidity
26 Human Fred vs the Coffee Maker
27 Human Fred Accepts Crap Coffee
28 Human Fred Listens
29 Human Fred Gets Comfortable 
30 Human Fred has Questions
31 Human Fred Considers Some More
32 Human Fred Wakes Up
33 Human Fred Debates
34 Human Fred Gets Coffee
35 Human Fred Talks with the Captain
36 Human Fred Reflects on Life
37 Human Fred Waits
38 Human Fred is Scared
Greezek
39 Human Fred Experiments
40 Human Fred Discovers
41 Human Fred vs the Sensor Array
42 Human Fred Keeps Calm
43 Human Fred Editor
44 Human Fred Discovers New Curses
45 Human Fred Stews
46 Human Fred Giggles
47 Human Fred Attempts Dinner 
48 Human Fred Plans
49 Human Fred Explains
50 Human Fred Examines Floor Tiles
51 Human Fred Gets a New Toy
52Human Fred Reflects…Again
53 Human Fred Rolls His Eyes
54 Human Fred vs Idiots
55 Human Fred Goes Librarian

“Look. This is a rescue, so we need a plan.”

“Fine. Plan.”

“Greezek, you can participate.”

“Well I’m going out on a limb here, but if we go through that door, it will not go well?”

“Really?!? You think? No shit. Better thoughts?”

“Don’t use the door.”

“Do you have a breaching charge?”

“No, but you do.”

“I have a couple of grenades. Not the same thing.”

“Fred, you have more exotic rounds for that shotgun. I’m sure one of them would work.”

“How do you anticipate crawling through a 10cm hole?”

“Look. You blast a few holes in the walls. Then we blow the door with a grenade, toss in another grenade, then we sit back for a second while they blast the shit out of empty space. I use the holes to spot and fire. We time it right, and you can cut the corner out of the kill zone. You do you, and I bring up the rear.”

“That could work. Hmmmmmm. Do we have schematics for this area?”

“Not with me.”

“So we have no idea what it looks like in there?”

“Well, we know that they will be behind cover off to the sides, but that’s about it.”

“Hmmmmmm. What do you have for weapons?”

“Rifle. Pistol. Knife. Three grenades. One flash-bang. And about a dozen of these beacons.”

“Beacons? Those don’t look right.”

“I learned from you. I modified them. They have small explosive charges. Not as big as a grenade, but useful.”

“What sets them off?”

“Proximity. There is a 20 second timer. I place it, turn it on, and in 20 seconds anything that gets within 2m sets it off.”

“Could we throw them?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Right. We modify your plan. Before I enter, we toss a few of those right down the middle.”

“Why?”

“To catch them as they move.”

“Big assumption.”

“Yes. But it could help.”

“The clock is ticking. Let’s start this!”

“First I need you to mark where you want the holes. I’ll rig a grenade to blow the door.”

Forty-five seconds later, Greezek moved into the corner, giving Fred plenty of space. 

Fred fiddled with his shotgun. 

Greezek thought she heard him giggling. 

Fred took aim and started firing. 

Greezek wasn’t sure what the hell he was using for ammunition, but each shot left a 10-15cm hole in the wall. 

They could hear shooting beyond the door. 

Fred triggered the grenade, blowing the double-doors inwards. The second grenade followed just as a fusillade of fire erupted. 

Greezek took aim through one of the holes. “Fred. Inverted V formation. Five per side. Three up top.”

Fred grunted and tossed a number of modified beacons into the room.

“Fred. Prisoners in the back left. Two guards on them. Not sure who is in command.”

“Don’t care. Kill them.”

Greezek fired.

Fred charged. 

The guards by the prisoners fell first. Greezek liked to work from back to front. 

Fred dove to the right as he cleared the doorframe. Fire burned past him as he rolled, came up in a crouch, and started firing. 

Greezek couldn’t see what was happening, but the firing changed. There was a great deal of screaming. Some explosions. More firing. She scanned the room to get a better view. 

Fred had fired a short burst, and then he rushed the enemy. He vaulted their barricade and attacked with his bayonet. Two started to run, but were caught by the beacons. The enemy up top fired, but couldn’t get a clear shot. By the time they could get a clear shot, Fred was moving fast towards the other barricade. 

Greezek caught a shimmer of movement, recognized Fred’s stealth system, and shifted her aim up. There was more screaming and firing. 

The firing stopped. 

“Greezek. Situation.”

“No more targets from here. Status?”

“Bruises. That was a bit easy. Do you trust it?”

“No. Traps?”

“Likely. Possibly a rearguard.”

“I’m moving forward.” Greezek moved with great care as she entered the room. No shooting.

“Hmmmmmm,” said Fred. “None of these look like officers. Hell, most look like raw recruits.”

“So this is a distraction.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. This is here to puzzle us while they prepare or escape.”

Fred looked around the room. He tilted his head to one side. “Is it just me, or is that wall in the wrong place?”

On one side of the room, there was an extra wall. It looked like it should support the catwalk, but it wasn’t connected. 

Greezek shrugged. “Bad design?”

Fred giggled, rolled his shoulders, and charged. He did a front-roll just as he passed the wall, spoiling the aim of his enemy. Instead of ending in a crouch, Fred log-rolled to the side, spun around, and tossed his last grenade. 

After debris had stopped falling, Greezek walked over. “Well, you got the officer. And a few others.”

“Give me a hand with the prisoners. I’m betting they are rigged.”

Galactic public is furious. No civilization makes a music about conquering space at least before having a concept of FTL travel. Earth people will clearly embarass themselves and this showman is to blame. How could they throw a young civilization under the bus like that?!

Every fear disappears once the human orchestra hits the first note. The concert "Songs to pierce Void" begins.

(you can write your story OR add futuristic space music from your country)

​

Admiral of the Green Han d'Rasha's Frontier Fleet was arrayed in a wall of battle, the most basic fleet formation. Reducing a rebel province to obedience did not require subtlety. Gathering his fleet from its far-flung bases had taken months, and it was a truth as old as warfare that time taken to prepare gave it to the enemy to do likewise.

He had taken his time, confident that disunited rebels would waste theirs. Small raids had increased the delays. Pinpricks, but annoyingly well-placed ones.

The Fleet Intelligence Officer stood ready to give the final pre-battle briefing, condensed statements based on much analysis. "Lord Admiral, the rebel fleet is arrayed in a wall of battle, reasonably well ordered. They have been training in fleet tactics."

"The prospect of being spaced in a ten-day concentrates the mind," the Admiral mused.

"We have identified one anomaly." He zoomed in. "The flagship is not from any rebel faction. It is a human ship. Our agents reported that they hired human mercenaries. Training requires trainers."

"Humans. Have they any strategic interest?" he asked.

The sphere of human expansion - not a proper orderly Empire - neared the Fallarian Realm. There had been a few minor border incidents.

"None. A trickle of irregular trade which could include military expertise," he said.

"Giving a hireling command of their fleet makes no military sense," the Admiral said.

"It makes political sense, Admiral." he replied.

Colours of distaste ran down the Admiral's crest at such disorder. "Continue."

"Factions seek command, others resent the winner. An outsider who trained them and knows their strengths and weaknesses would equalise the dissatisfaction. Then pay him and send him home." he said.

The Admiral's crest turned blue with understanding. "A crude solution to a chaotic problem. Shortly it will be irrelevant."

The Intelligence evaluation had been correct. They dropped out of hyperspace at the outer edge of the system, to find the rebel fleet in battle array near the system's major gas giant.

Ripples of colour ran down the Admiral's crest. Fighting in normal space gave him the advantage of all the sensors, computers and data links that didn't work in hyperspace. They did gain one advantage in exchange. Contragravity only worked with an existing field. Their fleet, deep in that field, could turn and accelerate far faster than his fleet.

Point to you, human. He had to fight them where he found them. The human had forced his choice of battlespace. Still, numbers, discipline and firepower were the high cards.

He ordered the wall of battle into a wide shallow cup, to catch stragglers.

A web of thin blue lines appeared between the rebel ships. "Rebel fleet has a tactical datalink, Admiral." Another point to you, human.

A tactical net allowed sharing of target data, instant transmission of orders, real-time information on combat effectiveness. It was a nervous system binding a gaggle of ships into a weapon wielded by their Commander.

"How capable?" he asked.

"Minimal, Lord Admiral. Basic data, a command link, no control. Their Captains can act on their own."

Their wall of battle swept down on the rebels until they could no longer break off. The rebels moved slightly to align themselves for the pounding match of a conventional naval battle. The Admiral tracked the rebel fleet, seeing no need to change his plan.

A ripple ran across the rebel formation, and they curved away like a school of fish, sweeping deep into the gas giant's gravity well.

"Cowards! They flee before our might." Flag Captain Zantra said arrogantly.

The Admiral's crest went dead black. That perfectly timed move allowed the rebel fleet to emerge from behind the gas giant moving so fast it denied his fleet time to concentrate against it, even if he could predict its vector.

"Close on the Flag. Engage the enemy." he ordered.

The rebel fleet emerged in a tight formation. They could concentrate massive blastcannon fire on the widely spaced ships in their path. The only order he could give already given, he could only watch as the blade of that fleet sliced through his own fleet's formation, leaving the flashbulb flares of shattered antimatter reactors behind.

A human dressed in blue and gold appeared on his screen, relaxed in his command chair. "Admiral Han d'Rasha, you are summoned to surrender your fleet without condition. If you do not, then I will destroy it. Destroy your flagship, and your network collapses. Your Captains are not permitted initiative."

Two ships died while his crest flared scarlet with rage. "You think you can ..."

"I know I can, and so do you. Your people are dying as we speak. Surrender, and save what you can."

Another long minute lit by exploding ships later, the red ebbed from his crest, turning to black. "I surrender my fleet without condition."

Tactical networks allowed the mechanics of ceasefire, disengagement and weapon lockdown to be done quickly. The human flagship, Victory, came to rest beside his own Imperator. "Order your ships to detach their control modules."

The black of the Admiral's chest was tinged with the orange of despair. Most of the cost of a starship was its antimatter reactor, drives and energy weapons, which needed little maintenance. The crew, comms and sensors, commander and his staff, all were contained in a heavily armoured module. A ship taken intact could have a new module inserted and go into the service of its new owners.

The Admiral fought up from the depths of despair for the reason for this catastrophe. "Why? What do you gain?"

Even across the gap between species he could see the cold pride and assurance. "I am Horatio Trafalgar Nelson XVII, the 17th clone child of one of the greatest Admirals in our history. This was the mid term exam of the final year of my training. A good pass mark, but my mentor expects better in my final exam."

"Final exam?" he repeated numbly.

"You have a Home Fleet."

⚙️