Prisoners of Sol 13

What humanity had learned from our crash landing on an asteroid was that our materials were durable in this universe. As long as we built vessels for collision resistance, it should be feasible to hurtle through Jorlen’s atmosphere and slam into the ground; friction was much more forgiving here. We’d wasted no time in constructing drop pods and having our Vascar friends test them in simulations. Taking down the orbital defense network on and above the planet would be critical, since they didn’t rely solely on interceptors or any kind of Mars Dome technology. Instead, Mikri had told us they had pulses that could zap a missile and render it a dud in a second. 

The ESU wasn’t aiming to glass the planet regardless, so even if it would be nice to precision strike that wicked witch lair of a palace, we’d still need boots on the ground. Our unit had loaded into the drop pod, including Mikri and a few other Vascar; our android allies had supplied bodies to send with us, since we didn’t have that many Space Force troopers in range of the portal. Humans had gifted them new armor, built with Sol materials, that was colored for more desert camouflage. It was easy to tell which bot was my friend, since he’d drawn a white heart shape onto his armor, right over his chest.

The space force wasn’t supposed to be fighting as infantry, like we are now; our purview meant flying ships and handling boarding combat. I’m a damn ship captain! We only have a few weeks of training to prepare us for this. There was no other human military branch at the ready, since who the fuck else would’ve been camped out by Pluto and The Gap? This is all we can muster.

“So Mikri,” I managed, as my teeth chattered from the force of us careening through the atmosphere. It felt like my insides were being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste. I wanted to fight the Asscar, but I never signed up to be a drop trooper. “How’d you end up in the Vascar military?”

The android turned his helmet toward me. “I joined.”

“No! I meant why, you lug nut!”

“I know. I am ‘messing with you.’ You like confusing me or drawing my reactions about your irrationality, so I must do the same.”

The other Vascar were staring directly at Mikri, and uttered something in their language. The real-time translator we’d constructed from their program, much like the one made for Ambassador Khatun, spit out their questions pertaining to why he was interested in talking with us. They also offered a variety of complaints about how loud and boisterous humans had been, with our shenanigans and emotionally-driven chatter. It was as if we weren’t there at all.

Mikri turned toward me, seeming apologetic. “Preston is my friend. There is no objective reason why ‘loud’ is bad. On the contrary, I concur that it is of value to an individual to express themselves. Perhaps happiness should take precedence over being serious and logical. I find human irrationality…oddly charming.”

“Do any of the other droids know how the fuck to have fun? Jackasses. You won the lottery, Carter,” a soldier named Troy Anderson grunted at me.

“Mikri didn’t always like us either,” I responded, praying we’d touch down on the ground soon. “It took months for us to bond. Give them a chance; explain why you do the shit you do.”

The Vascar beeped in agreement, before poking me on the shoulder. “Did I grasp the concept of messing with you? It is to prompt a dramatic reaction for amusement, right?”

“Yes, but I’d like a serious answer. I’m curious how your military even works.” I lowered my voice to a gruff growl. “‘I lead. That is all.’” 

“I enjoyed strategic calculation and was excellent at simulations. I wished to serve on a ship, to aid against the creators, so I was assigned to such a role. There is no ‘rank’ in our military; it was by seniority, and I was the closest to expiration in my crew. Ficrae was the second.”

“But you’re not going to expire. Do you ever think of going back? Do you miss your crew?”

Mikri’s head turned slightly, and I thought he was looking at his fellow droids. “No. I would rather be with you.”

“Even now? Hurtling down to some shithole Asscar world like a bat out of hell?!”

The Vascar paused, before tapping my hand. “You seem afraid, Preston. I told you not to go here due to the risks.”

“I’m fine! I just want to touch solid ground, dammit. This is like crashing our ship all over again; I still have nightmares about that!”

“What is a nightmare?”

“I’ll…tell you later. Not right now.” 

“I will remember that. I do not forget things the way organics might.”

“Good, then…remind me.” There was no way of seeing how close we were to the ground, without windows, but the feeling of free fall was much harsher than mere zero-gravity weightlessness. My chest felt tight, and my churning stomach was migrating upward toward my esophagus. “Later!”

I leaned my helmeted head back against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut. Mikri was lucky that he didn’t have innards that transmitted unwell sensations to his processor; he would’ve certainly found that an unwelcome distraction from logical thought. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold in my lunch, but I tried to focus on breathing, rather than the cold sweat on my hands. Several eternities must’ve passed before the pod slammed into the ground, absorbing the force like it hadn’t been anything at all. We stuck the landing and survived—a win in my book.

The pod’s ramp unfurled as I collected myself, tremors of relief passing to my fingertips. Mikri unclipped my harness for me, and I gave the android a nod. He seemed curious about my behavior, and given that he didn’t have physical senses, it was no wonder. Sofia would’ve given an exacting scientific explanation, plucking it out of nowhere—but she wasn’t here. How was I supposed to teach our Vascar friend all by myself? I was responsible for summing up human behavior on command; that was setting myself up for failure. Maybe we could just focus on the combat setting right now. 

Mikri has to learn to care for more organics than just Sofia and myself. He said he has no feelings one way or another toward the rest of humanity, and we’re trying to teach him compassion. Was it right to drag him here to blow off Asscar skulls?

Two ground vehicles were untethered from the back of our entry vessel, and ESU soldiers loaded in; a ride was necessary, if the Vascar reinforcements were going to keep up with us. Mikri watched the drop pod take back off, once we’d unloaded, sailing ahead to offer air support. My eyes were on a different place: the brand new planet that we were setting foot on for the first time. Much like Kalka, no humans had ever stood on the soil our boots presently occupied! I could see that bedazzled palace in the distance, but we were astride of the city. 

Our goal was to head into the metropolitan settlement, where Asscar Central Command was located. Humanity was planning to attack the base from several sides, with a full arsenal of vehicles, drones, and other toys. The enemy was going to be more experienced with their countermeasures in these physics, but this was an opportunity to learn and test everything. I could already hear dogfights taking place up ahead, at hypersonic speeds that were near imperceptible to the naked eye. Enemy soldiers appeared to be hurrying to hold positions outside the city limits, with some tanks coming deeper out into the fields. I ambled over to our vehicle, ready to zip across the farmland surrounding the city.

“Bring it in!” Troy told Mikri with enthusiasm, when the android took a seat the human had clearly been saving. I hopped in on the Vascar’s other side, keeping a watchful eye on them. “What’s up, man?”

The Vascar pointed with a claw toward the sky. “Why am I being asked about which way a direction is? Are you disoriented? Perhaps you should not go into combat like this.”

“It’s an expression for, ‘How’s it going?’” I jumped in. “Troy, he’s super literal. You have to help him out a little.”

Troy raised his hands with a wiseass grin. “Right. Well, you already had the lovebot to yourself for three fucking months. Sharing is caring.”

“Lovebot?” Mikri echoed.

“You were shut down ‘cause these pricks got their panties in a twist that you felt l-o-v-e. You can’t only love Preston, right?”

“Of course not. Sofia Aguado is a recipient of my affection also.”

“Ooh, a girl? Is she hot? Is that your—”

I glowered at the human. “Shut the fuck up. Not another word.”

“What? I was just asking if he liked her. I thought he said he got messing with him; lighten up. Love is more than—”

“Leave him alone, man, or else. Vascar don’t even have genders.”

“Then why do you call him ‘he?!’”

“I’ll call him he, she, they—whatever Mikri wants, but I don’t think he gives a fuck.”

“Dimorphic distinctions do not apply to me,” Mikri agreed. “I wish to be called whatever my friends like referring to me as.”

“Including tin can?”

“This is factually incorrect, Preston. At least refer to me as polycarbonate and steel can.”

“You see, that’s a mouthful. Sofia wouldn’t tell you this, but humans can be very lazy.”

“Lazy. Seeking to reduce the effort put in, like when I found it cumbersome to care for you.”

“Exactly!”

Troy huffed. “I see how it is. You two have fun with your chitchat. The rest of us will shoot the fucking brownfurs.”

Sour grapes. Not everyone’s going to have a robot best friend, and Troy will have to get over that.

Our vehicle was speeding toward the city outskirts, as we rode shoulder-to-shoulder in the truckbed. The enemy tanks were hardly moving toward us by comparison, though I imagined they weren’t as sluggish as their counterparts in our world. That technology had become almost obsolete on Earth hundreds of years ago due to IEDs and anti-tank weapons having such efficacy. I found myself curious about whether the Asscar warred among themselves at one point; we didn’t know much at all about the first organic aliens we’d met, and how much they were like humanity. Larimak seemed to check out as “the asshole born with a golden spoon.” 

Perhaps the royalty was the worst version of their kind, but that was a moot point when said nobility was in charge. The human soldiers were ordered to hop out and charge forward on foot, while the Vascar crested along on wheels. We didn’t want the enemy to have the opportunity to blow up our whole squad with a well-aimed rocket-propelled grenade. I gave Mikri an encouraging smile, and noticed the android whirring with reluctance to let me out of sight. He’d tagged along to stop me from getting “punctured,” but there was no way he’d match our pace. I didn’t give him time to dwell on it, hopping out and sprinting for the tanks.

It was a surreal feeling to stand alongside a hundred men who were running faster than expressway speed limits, the endorphins flowing as this fulfilled a primal drive within the human psyche—to go beyond what was thought possible. The Asscar shouted in alarm and disbelief, after seeing what foot speeds we were capable of; score one for the weak, bleeding hearts. They were having a difficult time aiming shots at any of us, and we were smaller targets as opposed to vehicles. Instead, our foes settled for a spray-and-pray strategy, trying to mow us down. I watched a tank round catch a fellow soldier in the chest, and knock him down.

And then, he got back up and resumed the charge. A wild roar spread through our troops, a war cry in recognition of the novel power we wielded. I cast a glance toward my bulletproof vest with renewed faith, wondering just how much stronger our Kevlar was. The buff hadn’t carried over enough for Khatun’s skin to repel the bullet, which Mikri suggested was an anti-machine round meant to cleave through the thick metal of a robot’s suit. I found a new levity in my steps, and pumped my arms as hard as possible. Memories flickered through my mind of punching clean through Mikri’s armor, without so much as bruised knuckles.

“You want some of this?” I shouted, manic energy coursing through my veins; the adrenaline high was unparalleled. “For Mikri!”

I leapt off the ground toward the tank, flying through the air as if I was an Olympic longjumper. My speed carried me onto the massive treads, before I reenacted that infamous punch on the dust-colored hull. The metal didn’t rip apart like Mikri’s armor, but it did leave a massive dent. I felt like a zombie swarming television characters and pounding on the car hood, when I stamped my leg onto the dented section—and broke through. Unclipping a grenade, I dropped it into the new gash and dove off of the tank. There was the sound of screams for a mere second before a loud burst, then silence: the tank crew were blood and guts on the wall by now.

Other humans had followed my lead, realizing we were the anti-tank weapons in this universe. We cleaved through armor like it was nothing, not needing the hefty artillery we’d ferried at all. Dismantling the tanks was as easy as ripping a lollipop from a toddler’s mouth, with how unequipped the Asscar were for hellspawn with superspeed and inhuman strength; the extent of our abilities in these physics shocked even us, as we did it. The hostile greeting party was taken care of in no time, leaving a clean ticket to sail toward the city. I clambered back into our vehicle, as it reached us and cruised past the wreckage of the tanks. 

I gave Mikri a thumbs up, and the robot awkwardly tried to mimic it with his claws. That had gone well: ridiculously well. I wasn’t sure why I had this premonition of dread, a feeling that it wasn’t going to last—and why the nausea of the drop pod transit had returned back to my throat. Maybe I hadn’t shaken the effects altogether, or running at those mind-bending speeds had restirred my inner turmoil. The Asscar hadn’t been ready at all for humanity’s charge, and from the pitiful showing we’d seen here, there was no reason to assume that would change close to the base. With any luck, we’d be storming that royal palace by sunset.

A/N - Humanity uses drop troopers on Jorlen, and Mikri’s friendship with Preston is the envy of some human soldiers; the Vascar is defensive of Preston and concerned for his welfare. The human soldiers tear through the first enemy forces they run into, stomping through tanks and running at superhuman speeds. How will Larimak react after seeing what the people he ticked off are capable of? Will it be a walk in the park for the humans to take the rest of the planet…and will Mikri have the chance to learn anything from this trip?

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