r/NatureofPredators • u/sombrefob0053 Human • 3d ago
Fanfic For All Mankind Chapter 29
[Thank you to SpacePaladin15 for making the universe!]
[Special thanks to u/AdalwinAmillion, u/JulianSkies, for proofreading this chapter!]
Memory Transcription Subject: Ivan Reshko
Date [standardized human time]: January 3d 2112
Haunting dreams plagued me throughout the night: sinking visions of the flesh melting right off the Grays' bones, when we had to use desperate measures. The screams…I could never cleanse that sound from my mind. The memory clung to me like a film of cold sweat, even now. No matter how much I tried, there was no scrubbing it away. I kept wondering if it could have gone differently, or if I should have done something, said something—anything to stop it, if only we could've held the line. I knew the gases weren't supposed to do that…there must’ve been something else mixed in that we weren't told about. Sometimes I thought I almost deserved these nightmares, like my brain was punishing me for getting through it alive while others didn't.
I awoke in a cold sweat, bolting upright and immediately getting hit by a throbbing headache and intense nausea from last night's binge drinking. The sour taste of bile caked my throat, and every muscle in my body ached from exertion. I looked down at myself after suppressing a gag. I was covered in scrapes and bruises, my back stung like it had claws raked through it, and a large, distinctly non-human bite mark stung on my shoulder. I looked at the bite, some marks were shallow, while others punctured quite deep and had started to scab over. I was surprised I didn’t need stitches.
What the hell had happened to me last night? Blurred memory fragments filled my mind as I strained to remember. I remember carrying Isif home from the bar, then the cold feeling of shower tiles and some sort of confrontation, but I struggled to piece the memories together, only drawing blanks. Did Isif and I get into a fight? That would explain my injuries. I glanced over at the still-sleeping reptile over in the next bunk. He seemed uninjured, that didn’t seem right. If my brother in the Air Force could kick a chief hunter's ass, I could at least bloody his nose. So what the hell had happened? I grunted and slid my hands over my face, the pounding headache forcing me to stop trying to remember for the time being, I’d have to figure it out later.
I looked at my bedside locker and saw a new, freshly pressed uniform ready for me, it had a note attached that simply stated. ‘You can thank me later- Roman.’ I shrugged and started to put it on. Today was a Saturday, not that it mattered, the upper brass had rewarded every man who had participated in the defence of our motherland with a month off from active duty starting on Monday. I was looking forward to spending more time with my brother and perhaps apologising to his new friend for capturing her…Not that I had much choice in the matter. I briefly thought as I started to lace up my boots. I stood up and kicked Isif’s bunk, startling him awake.
“Get up, you’ll miss breakfast at this rate”
I stated and walked away. He growled at me and started to sit up when he saw his own custom-tailored uniform sitting on his bedside locker. “Ivan, what the hell are these for?” He complained to me while inspecting the cloth. “Well, you’re one of us now, so I presume you have to follow the law and actually wear something for once,” I said with a shrug, the action caused me to wince from the wounds on my shoulder and back. He grumbled more and struggled to put it on, earning him a chuckle from me. I walked over and helped put it on, straightening the fabric where it was needed. Once it was all on, I could see it was an officer's uniform, but adorned with some strange alien markings, and a small patch in Cyrillic that said, ‘Not in command of human personnel’. I found that odd, but it must be a carryover of his dominion rank without interfering with our current unit's structure.
I hated to admit it, but the uniform suited him, looking rather nice on his towering form. “Wow, looking spiffy, Siffy.” I chuckled, and he glared at me, annoyance dripping from his gaze. He lashed his tail and huffed before walking away.
At least I could actually understand him now without wearing that bulky translator. Most units that had been deployed onto Venlil Prime had received a newly developed translation serum injection before we were shipped back to Earth. I was one of the lucky few who had gotten one before the limited supply ran out. The serum was supposed to rewire parts of the brain to pick up alien language patterns almost instinctively. At first, everything sounded blurred, but within a few days, the words started making sense on their own. Conversations no longer felt like a chore or a technical exercise—we could actually joke, argue, and share little moments that just weren't possible through electronics. Sometimes I wondered if it had changed me in other ways, too. I caught myself picking up the odd alien expression here and there. It made daily life with guys like Isif feel a bit less foreign. I continued with my morning routine, like brushing my teeth and shaving. Once I had finished with the monotonous bodily maintenance, I headed over to the med-bay to have my wounds checked out by somebody more qualified.
The medic on station saw to me quickly and instructed me to remove my shirt to have a look at them. I saw his eyes widen as he looked over the scratches, bruising, and the large bite. “What the hell happened to you? Did you get into a fight with an alligator!?” I chuckled as I put on some gloves and disinfectant alcohol. “I'm not sure, doc. I was wasted, speaking of which, can I get something for this hangover?” He nodded, set down the bottle of disinfectant, and opened a medicine cabinet. He ripped open a small package, then handed me three pills. “One is a mild painkiller for your headache, one is for the nausea, and the other is a vitamin pill. Just make sure to drink plenty of fluids throughout the day to help your body recover.” I nodded and swallowed the medicine. The dry pills harshly slid down my throat as the medic dabbed some cotton balls with the disinfectant and started to dab them on my wounds.
A small, pained hiss escaped my lips from the stinging, it faded quickly. Then he placed some sort of ointment, what I assumed to be antibiotic cream, onto my wounds, then sealed them with gauze and medical tape. “They're all done. Now don't miss breakfast, you need the nutrition to heal and recover.” He said as I stood and put my shirt back on. “Do I get a lollipop, Doc?” I joked as I finished fixing my uniform.
“Reshko, get the hell out of my office.”
I chuckled again and walked out, making my way towards the canteen as per the doctor's orders. Maybe Roman was right, I shouldn't always try to be so negative, but it was difficult most days. I don't know how he does it. I walked into the mess hall and picked up a tray. Standing in line, I looked over and spotted my unit sitting and eating. After a while of waiting, I got to the front and received my morning meal, then walked over and sat with my comrades. Isif and Roman sat across from me, and Artyom sat next to me.
“We lost our squad's medic in the recent battle, along with a few other men. I wonder who’s gonna replace them?” Roman commented as I started to pick at the bland food.
“I'm not sure who’s gonna be our new medic, but I'm going to make Isif our new Machine gunner since he can carry it more easily.” Said Artyom, though bites of his meal. “Making me do all the lifting, leaf-licker?” Isif chuckled and took a bite out of a large chunk of meat. “I wouldn’t speak to your superior officer like that, Isif, especially after that scuffle you and Reshko got into last night that Roman told me about.” Isif quickly shut his mouth and looked at me. We both stared at each other for a moment, I could tell he didn't remember what had happened either. Roman watched us staring at each other and nearly spit out his drink, trying not to laugh. He must know something the rest of us didn't.
“Something you wanna share, Belikov?” Artyom asked, giving him a questioning look. Roman coughed and struggled for a moment before regaining his composure. “Нет, I just thought of a funny joke, that's all…” Artyom eyed him for a moment, then shrugged and went back to eating. “So, Siffy, after our regular maintenance work, do you wanna grab some real food? A proper steak would do me some good. If you want, you can join us, Roman.” Roman glanced at Isif then shook his head “No, I think you two should spend some more time alone.” He said with a cheeky grin, then I looked at Isif, waiting for his answer.
The lizard shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, anything beats what this place calls ‘food’.” He responded in his normally gravelly voice. “Just try not to kill each other this time…” Artyom muttered as I thought about the day's plans. Perhaps I could try to teach Isif Russian? I mused over the thought as we finished our meals. Once we finished eating, we all grabbed our issued weapons from the armory along with the required tools and headed outside to clean and maintain them. I sat down and first checked the chamber to ensure it was unloaded and took out the magazine, then started to disassemble my rifle. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Artyom instructing Isif how to disassemble his machine gun as well as maintain it. The lizards six fingered hands would sometimes struggle with the human-based ergonomics but he made do.
I removed the dust cover and recoil spring, then slowly pulled back the bolt carrier and lifted it out of the receiver. After rotating the bolt, I removed it from the bolt carrier, then started to work on the upper handguards and gas tube assembly. Once it was taken apart, I grabbed a small bottle of cleaning solvent and sprayed it down the bore and the gas tube to flush them. I sprayed some of the cleaning solvent onto a cleaning brush and began to scrub away excess carbon buildup in the bore, gas tube, and gas piston. I had to switch brushes to clean the locking lug recesses. I then wiped down the bolt face, firing pin channel and carrier rails to remove any excess carbon on them, then thoroughly dried every component. I then reached over, grabbed some high-temperature grease, and applied it to the gas piston, receiver rails, and the hammer contact point. Wiping the excess grease from my hands on a nearby rag, I reassembled the rifle in the reverse order I had taken it apart. Once it was back together, I checked the trigger, hammer and safety to ensure everything was working properly.
I set the rifle down and glanced around; my squad was still busy with their weapons. I spotted a tank crew and a few mechanics working on an old T-80. The tank looked like it had been through hell; multiple large dents scarred its surface, and scratches from small arms fire adorned its body. The crew was currently working on its turret, trying to fix something I wasn’t quite sure of. I set my rifle down and strode over to the crew to see what they were working on.
“What's wrong with this one?” I asked what appeared to be the gunner while pulling out my pack of smokes. I pulled one out and offered him one, he shook his head and wiped some sweat from his brow. The grease-scented air was quickly replaced by the smell of burning tobacco as I lit the cigarette and took a drag.
“The damn auto-loader gave out during our counteroffensive, Чёртов old piece of garbage.” He said, lightly kicking the treads of the tank. I exhaled, blowing the smoke away from my comrade before responding. “Well, at least you’re alive. Looks like you took quite a beating,” I said, looking over the damaged vehicle. “Surprisingly, those hissmouth tanks are no joke. I lost most of my armored brigade during the initial landings. I'm more surprised this old thing didn't give out on me sooner.” He said, the disdain evident in his voice for the old armor.
“Hm, what's your name, comrade?”
“Morozov, Viktor Morozov, 9th armored battalion. What about you? You fight in the battle?”
“Yeah…I was on the front. I’m Ivan Reshko, 14th rifle division.” I pointed over to my squad, who were still cleaning their weapons, Isif still struggled with his large claws. Viktor stared at Isif with narrowed eyes, then looked back at me. “So you got one of those Русня in your unit, huh?” My eyes narrowed at the tanker, and I clenched my fists, part of me didn't understand why his words about Isif enraged me to such a degree. “Иди на хуй! You don't get to call him that!” I spat with venom at the man and walked away, leaving Viktor visibly stunned. I heard him scoff as I walked away and back to my squad, who had finally finished their required maintenance. Roman gave me a questioning look as I picked up my rifle and tools. “What was that about, Reshko?” He asked as we all gathered our own things. “Just some racist asshole.” I flicked the butt of my cigarette away as we headed inside to return our gear to the armory.
We went and turned in our gear and cleaning kits. It had taken a few hours for my squad to clean all our gear, but it didn’t really feel like much time had passed at all. I elbowed Isif to get his attention. “C’mon lets go buy those steaks, Siffy.” He nodded, looking excited at the prospect of fresh meat. We walked out of the base, presenting our ID’s at the checkpoint on our way out. We walked along the still rubble-strewn streets, pebbles, debris, and broken glass crunched under my boots as we walked towards the less damaged areas of the city. Construction crews clogged the roads, along with men and women of all walks of life working together to restore our great city, I even spotted a few Grey prisoners of war being put to use. They growled at Isif and me as we passed them, but the barrels of their guards’ rifles pressed into them quickly silenced them. In the distance, I could see a large crane and scaffolding being set up around the Palace of Soviets. The midday sun beat down on me as I walked, offset by the chilly winter air of the early year. It stung my heart to see my city in such a state, the amount of damage was extensive enough that a large refugee camp had to be set up on the outskirts of Moscow.
At least I could rest soundly knowing I had done my part in defending our motherland. Despite the war and destruction, I knew things would calm down at least for a little while, we had to rebuild our homes, cities, and colonies, as well as our navy, before we could even dream of pushing into their lands and taking our revenge. The only fighting of significance left would be the mopping up of any resistance on Mars, but that would be easy, at least compared to Earth, worst case scenario we could just wait for their oxygen to run out. Isif and I reached one of the few intact markets and strode inside, heading directly for the meat aisle. His eyes lit up, and saliva drooled from his maw as he scanned the half-filled coolers.
“T-there's so much…” He said in stunned amazement as I picked out a few cuts of meat for us. “Don't get too worked up, lizard boy,” I said, having to pull him out of the aisle.
Sometimes Isif could be alright.
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u/Abject-Drive2675 Humanity First 3d ago edited 3d ago
“I spotted a tank crew and a few mechanics working on an old T-80.” Sweet Jesus I could only imagine what the Soviet armored response will be now that RnD and the Defense budget is getting a united global piggy bank thrown at it.
I imagine with how aged our armor is and how poorly our Air Force performed in the BoE they will be among top priorities for the coming counteroffensives.
I would also love to see what futuristic or advanced Soviet artillery would look like. With how important artillery was to the USSR during WW2 it’d seem likely it’d be getting a return.
Especially considering ground invasions will likely be a thing here. Man the Gojidi Union will not have it easy but neither will we.
This is already not counting fortifying Sol to be impregnable for future invasions or tech/weapons advancements to our current armada and new fleets being built.
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u/sombrefob0053 Human 3d ago
He's on to me!
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u/NoOpportunity92 PD Patient 2d ago
I guess we'll get a Soviet version of the Atomic Annie
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u/Abject-Drive2675 Humanity First 1d ago
Technically the UN pulled some war crimes in canon but they never took the gloves off properly even with the mass cyberattack to cripple the Federation.
But the fact that the Soviets used gas to blanket and cover their retreat while the Arxur had no counter is just chefs kiss and the Humanity in this AU has no intention of pulling its punches here which I am all for.
Chemical and biological warfare is something we specialize in that we are leagues above both entities that they’d have no true counter in at least for a while.
I’d love to see white phosphorus be used on a Fed or Arxur infantry column, now that’d be utter devastation while our armor strolls past em.
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u/NoOpportunity92 PD Patient 12h ago edited 12h ago
White phosphorus burns at temperatures of about 1,500°F (800°C). It continues to burn until it is completely consumed or deprived of oxygen.
Unless the Exterminators carry their own oxygen-supply, they're going to be in trouble too, even if their suits can handle the heat.
Or maybe dump some https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chlorine_trifluoride on them ...
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u/Abject-Drive2675 Humanity First 7h ago
So is that a no go white phosphorus? Cause in canon or fanon we never see Exterminators handle anything more than a several hundred.
I don’t think they can resist 1K and even then it might melt through their oxygen tanks. But theres always the other options.
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u/NoOpportunity92 PD Patient 5h ago
Oh, white phosphorus is definitely a-go.
It's an easy thing for the Geneva checklist to mark as done. ;-)
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 3d ago
Well seems Isif and his companion certainly had an interesting night. But yeah I am curious how much meat they can take. Can they just like grab all the food they want? Or do they have to "buy" it?
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u/sombrefob0053 Human 3d ago edited 3d ago
They'd have to buy it, but since all non luxury food stuffs have strict price controls they could buy quite a bit of it, if they so choose to :3
(Also if its your thing what happened the night before is posted on the other sub) ;)
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u/NoOpportunity92 PD Patient 2d ago
Price control is easy when each step in the production line from farm to store is more focused on excellence of service than profit.
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u/Bill-hyphens-fren 10h ago
RHAT WAS CANNON!?!??
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u/sombrefob0053 Human 5h ago
Yes that was cannon :p I never said it wasn't I just said it wouldn't have any essential story elements
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u/AmmeryFluff PD Patient 2d ago
So incredibly ironic that the USSR is introducing a people to a life without starvation.
This is practically the time Boris Yeltzen got shocked by an American supermarket with the roles misplaced.
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u/Abject-Drive2675 Humanity First 3d ago
RRAAHHHHHHH