The Nature of Predators 149

Memory transcription subject: Onso, Yotul Technical Specialist

Date [standardized human time]: March 7, 2137

Samantha Harris had the bright idea to try to set up as many traps as possible, and also suggested silencing our electronic devices. The last thing we needed was to receive a communique from our officers that tipped the Kolshians off to our position; humans might be excellent marksmen, but they weren’t able to take on a solo mission against fifteen enemies, regardless of what their video games might suggest. That was a power fantasy if I’d ever seen one, rather than a plausible demonstration of their actual abilities. As for myself, the hasty Yotul training that I’d received had been enough for me to hit a target down-range with a firearm. It’d served well on Sillis, but that had been a different scenario from close-quarters combat.

“Do you think the others are safe on the bridge?” I messaged Sam over our text comm-link.

The human’s green eyes turned toward me for a moment, before she typed a response. “Sovlin’s racism is so thick that it’ll keep the squids out.”

I shoved my paw into my mouth, muffling my laughter. It had once been offensive how derogatory that Gojid was toward Yotul, humans, and many other species, but I’d realized by now that bigotry was embedded into his every waking thought. Not that I’d wish for Sovlin to be in grave peril, isolated from the rest of the crew, but I almost wished the heroic captain was at my side. He was a renowned strategist capable of routing the Arxur with a Federation crew, and his bullheadedness rendered him defiant in combat. Short of Tyler having to watch my back, I would’ve felt more serenity with someone I’d been in ground action with before. Sam was a competent soldier, but I couldn’t predict her moves or her strengths.

Likewise, she has no idea about how I react during bullets-flying scenarios. It was noble of her not to leave me behind, but I’m sure she has mixed feelings about only having a herbivore at her side. I’ll have to prove that I’m not dead weight all over again.

Thinking about what my best contributions would be, I tapped into the ship’s security feeds so we could keep tabs on our enemy’s movements. The Kolshians had split into two teams, with the smaller contingent sweeping the corridors away from the bridge. The hostiles were wearing envirosuits, so venting the atmosphere was rendered ineffective. Sealed bulkheads had come down outside the central areas, which would take significant time to cut down; those were designed to contain fires, or to keep out intruders. In our central hub, I could see the bridge personnel by the officers toting high-powered rifles, as well as Tyler, Carlos, and Sovlin in deep conversation by the sensors station. I hoped they weren’t plotting anything too nonsensical, but that wasn’t my concern right now.

Machines and technology were my specialization, so it occurred to me that I could tap into the automated weaponry built into the vessel. I didn’t want to step on toes, if our commanding officers were planning to commandeer the fortifications to their directives, but I knew I could allocate those resources to my advantage. Assuming I received permission, the guided turrets and wall-mounted defenses could be turned against any encroaching enemies. Samantha was waving at me to hurry, so I fired off a typo-ridden message to the comms station as I ran.

The Terran shoved me through an open maintenance access panel, then began spilling liquid across the floor. Peacekeeper Harris had snatched a massive jug of water meant for the coffeepot, back at the kitchen, and was now using it to coat the floor in life-giving fluids. Was her idea of a trap to make the ground slippery? As amusing as it would be to see the Kolshans losing their footing, that was a minor annoyance at best. I could see the telltale wicked smirk on her face, however, and decided to trust her machinations. If anyone could make the basic elements of carbon-based life deadly, it was a human.

“Permission granted, Onso, and good luck,” the comms station had transmitted in response to my request. “Utilize the resources near your location for any tactical advantage. Neutralize as many enemies as you can. The defense we’re mounting will focus on the area around the bridge; the United Nations cannot afford to lose control of a nuclear-armed warship.”

This would be an excellent way to make it look like humanity was attacking innocent worlds, or that they were behind any other manner of atrocities, I realized. Is that why the Kolshians are boarding us? Ralchi, they could try to fly in to Leirn or Skalga under the UN banner.

This ship had to go down before we allowed those monsters to have our resources at their disposal. Even if they didn’t have anything so devious in mind, capturing a Terran craft for study would give them an edge at reverse-engineering our latest advancements. It could also tip off some features of the Yotul vessels that we’d just raised from our shipyards. Suddenly, this mission had become less about forging ahead toward Aafa, and more about keeping our toys out of Kolshian possession. As much as I loathed those bastards, I couldn’t deny this ambush was a clever way to turn the tables.

“Dammit, we need more,” Samantha growled to herself, nigh inaudible, as the water ran dry. “If you’ve got admin access to the right functions, Onso, trip the fire suppression system.”

I swiped at my holopad, abandoning the camera view for a moment. “Done. You know, I love the ocean, but creating one inside the ship seems ill-advised.”

“So dramatic. Acting like it’s some torrential downpour that’ll flood the whole craft.”

“Well, drowning’s pretty much the only lethal use for water. If that’s not it, then fill me in on your plan?”

“Or what? You’ll give me puppy dog eyes?”

“Maybe. It could be my new resting face.”

“You have fun with that. You’ll never crack me. Now cut the chatter.”

The human ducked into the maintenance shaft, and resealed the panel. Deciding to humor her request, I turned the fire sprinklers to full blast. Samantha had already climbed atop a pipe, gesturing for me to join her; she whispered something about keeping my limbs out of the water. I was growing more skeptical about her plan by the minute, so I decided to work on my own options in case this didn’t pan out. The primate fetched the emergency supplies from a box on the wall, pulling out a defibrillator and bottles of water. She uncorked the liquid and spilled it onto the floor, mixing with the small pool seeping beneath the panel.

I can’t fathom what she’s doing, so it’s time to look for other avenues. There’s no turrets by our current position, and there’s Kolshians heading our way.

The enemy likely would’ve swept any ducts or hiding spots regardless, but the water on the floor could tip them off to our presence at once. I balanced myself carefully on the pipe, where it was proving difficult not to crowd Samantha in the tight space. Her verdant eyes were glowing with delight, as well as a sense of pride. She peered over my shoulder at the camera feeds, tracking a group of about a dozen boarders as they drew closer. They had finished sweeping the airlock compartment, and were moving further down the hall toward us.

“Alright. Here goes nothing.” Samantha dropped the electrode pads into the water, and waited for an opportunity to pounce. I finally got an inkling of what she was trying to do, but there was no time to strike down this folly. “Time to ride the lightning, fuckers.”

As confused Kolshians waded through the wet floor, the UN soldier triggered the shock button on the AED. Nothing happened: the lifesaving device searched for a heartbeat signal and found none, preventing any shock from being rendered. Samantha scrunched her nose in confusion; I suspected the human anticipated more devastating consequences from the electric current. Amid a slew of muttered curses from Sam, the invading troops continued their search in progress, entirely unaware of the attempt. With the primate’s plans yielding underwhelming results, I racked my brain for an alternative. A single holopad swipe led me back to the fire suppression system, where I workshopped the beginning of an idea.

Fire-fighting foam was still available for deployment, according to the computer. My best idea for a defensive measure was to deploy the goo in full force in this hallway sector. The substance was a novelty compared to Federation ships, which only had overhead sprinklers and manual extinguishers if further flame retardants were needed. I recalled how ill-equipped Yotul were to ward off blazes when I was a child; most roofs in Rinsa were thatched by our staple grain, eard, or by wetland grasses (reeds, as humans referred to them). Those dry materials were quite flammable, which led to an infamous fire caused by Ralchi’s priests on Leirn’s largest continent of Thysun.

The temples in Thysun were massive and superfluous; it was fitting that the twin villages of Kalstor and Pyora were both caught up in a purification rite gone wrong, at the sacred ground that serviced both settlements. Our only technique to stop a blaze, prior to first contact, was using water pails kept on customary fire brigade hooks by our homes. Needless to say, that Ralchian ritual claimed dozens of lives and tenfold more buildings; it was only stopped via hasty demolition surrounding the inferno to starve it of fuel. The tragedy had been a humbling reminder of fire’s raw power. If the humans devised something that could bury nature’s exothermic killer—combustion that could claim entire neighborhoods—hoped it was good enough to encumber the Kolshians.

I quieted my nerves, seeking a clear mind before leaping into action. With a few succinct swipes, fire-fighting foam was bucketed atop our tentacled foes, like shaving cream falling from the sky. Genuinely, it looked reminiscent of the goop I’d seen Tyler lather his face with, before running sharp blades atop of it. Humans were strange in more ways than one, but chopping off their own hair down to the root was special. Most species preferred not to grow their fur in clumpy patches; if I shaved off the fluff on my snout, I’d look like I went sniffing around in a wood chipper…minus the smattering of green blood that would entail, of course. My whiskers twitched with amusement, holding onto that mental image of my reflection.

Sam bared her teeth with hostility. “What‘s so funny?”

Something told me it would be suicidal to answer honestly. I switched over to the camera view on my holopad to show her my handiwork, rather than passing along my views on human grooming. Copious amounts of foam were clumped atop Kolshian soldiers, dripping down their envirosuits. The bubbly spray encroached on the viewing strips for their bulbous eyes, blinding them; multiple enemies were pawing at their faces, struggling to wipe it away as more kept coming. I silently slid the maintenance panel open, and pressed myself flat on my stomach. This was as good of an opportunity as we’d get, this far away from the automated defenses.

The primate also pressed herself prone on the ground, assessing her own target with her depth-perceiving eyes. My immediate assessment of distances was nowhere near a human’s level, but it was good enough to get the job done. Focusing one eye down the sights of my pistol, I fired a shot into an enemy’s center of mass. Samantha’s synchronized bullet burst through another Kolshian’s stomach like a xenomorph (a creature Tyler had giddily taught me about), spraying chunks of organs and violet blood onto a nearby compatriot. My breathing was purposeful and concentrated, as I calculated my every move.

Don’t let them catch their bearings. The enemy are caked in foam, unable to move fluidly or see where the shots are coming from. If they were other Federation soldiers, they would’ve already panicked.

I wheeled my gun toward another target, and fired an instinctual shot with steady paws. My aim wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to rend the tip of its tentacle clean off; the Kolshian’s gun clattered to the ground, without two arms to grip it. Trusting that the maimed enemy couldn’t fire back in the next few seconds, I searched for my next mark. Samantha was popping off shots one after the other. I tried not to register the last enemy she had hit, who was missing a clean chunk from the side of his skull. Swallowing the nausea that rose in my throat, I staved off jitters enough to shoot yet another foe near their heart. Our enemies couldn’t return accurate fire without a visual.

With our unconventional tactics, the Kolshians were falling into disarray; none of their training prepared them for a Yotul twisting a human fire suppression system for nefarious purposes. The few hostiles that were left standing turned their guns in the direction of the gunfire, but the blind shots went at what would’ve been chest height—slamming into the wall above the access panel. A pawful of enemies, in their blind attempt to return fire, fumbled off shots that hit friendlies between them and us. I dished off several shots in quick succession, and with my newest expansion of their dead and wounded, the dazed boarders chose to stumble backward down the corridor. Samantha poked her slender arm out from our crawlspace, lobbing bullets after the hastily-retreating, foam-drenched foes.

The human chuckled to herself. “You’re one deranged, coffee-loving Yotul. I like you.”

“I’m not deranged. My plan worked, while I think yours was made up by Tyler. Water is a poor conductor of electricity, so at low voltages, that was never going to be fatal,” I rambled happily, swishing my tail. “To shock someone to death, you need the contact area to be a large portion of the body’s total surface area—ooh, and electricity entering through mucous membranes would also increase sensitivity.”

“Have you been watching people get electrocuted and taking notes?!”

“No, I just think electrical currents are interesting. I understand more than most people think I do. I’m going to repeat this for the furthest planters in the fields—I’m a rocket scientist.”

The primate ducked out of the maintenance shaft, wrinkling her nose at the corpses. “I’d treat you with the appropriate respect for that role if I hadn’t seen you beg for food items multiple times today.”

“Hey, you’d do it too if you could get away with it. I’ve seen you point at a remote on the other side of the couch and say that it’s too far away.”

“That’s conserving energy…or just being comfy.”

“That sounds an awful lot like ‘lazy’ to me. You know I’m right, because you’ve looked into your heart and seen it to be true. Now that we’ve settled that important matter, what’s our next move with the eye placement police?”

“Ha, fuck, I guess that nickname fits the squids; assclowns can’t even figure out directional eyes don’t mean jack shit. Uh, next, we find a proper place to hole up. Something tells me those Kolshians won’t be back, and I say we’ve done our part. It’s time to let our friends take care of the rest.”

“I’d say it is. If the two of us could take on a squad with our wits alone, our friends can handle themselves. You know, I could be sitting at home, napping next to a hensa or attending a stageplay right now. Leirn’s being built back to something amazing.”

“The Yotul do have less of a stick up your ass than other aliens. Leirn’s great by the sole factor of not having the Feddies around anymore. And Onso, we all want to go home, free of this God-forsaken war, so let’s not fuck this up in the final lap. I have faith that we’ll drive these boarders out. We made fools of them, and we have to keep making fools of them all the way to Aafa.”

My claws tightened around my gun, recalling my own outrage toward the Federation. “I’m just happy we’ve survived this bout up to now, with those numerical odds back there. After today, there’s a few less of those bastards out there to owe us that debt. Eventually, we’re going to make every Kolshian that partook in, or helped with this shit, pay for their crimes against sapience. But here and now, I just want them the fuck off our ship.”

“Damn straight, Onso. This is our ship. Nobody takes what belongs to humanity, and lives to tell about it.”

“From now on, that shit’s going to be true about the Yotul too. Nobody fucks with either of our species. Thank you for sticking with me out here, Sam.”

The human grinned. “It’s been a pleasure, brainiac.”

Having thwarted the Kolshians’ attempts to flush us out in the ship’s furthest reaches, I could only hope that UN personnel holed up in the bridge had found a crafty way to defend their position. There were dozens of boarders intruding on our warship, and we couldn’t relax our guard until every last one of them was taken out. Like Samantha and I found mutual agreement over, humanity had no intention of letting the enemy succeed with this takeover. The push to Aafa might be slowed, but it wasn’t going to be halted on our watch.

A/N - Part 149! Onso saves the day with some quick thinking, turning the fire suppression system into a way to hinder the Kolshians. Our Yotul narrator and Samantha spring the opportunity, and our human grudgingly admits that she's impressed with our nerdy, troublesome marsupial. What do you think about Onso's solution to the problem of the boarders? How do you anticipate the bridge crew to handle the enemies coming their way?

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