Earth Space Union's Alien Asset Files: #1 - Private Capal

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Much to Jetti's dismay, Ficrae piloted the ship through a brief warp gap; we needed a surrounding negative energy barrier to hold it open, so the insertion team directly hopping through wasn't an option. Those of us participating in the attack waited by the exit, guns raised. Our spacecraft skidded across a sprawling stone floor in a palatial foyer. I was almost jolted off my feet, but Dawson caught me. He gave me a nod, reassuring himself as much as me, before we stepped out to tackle the surprised Brigands.

Ficrae wielded an assault weapon in each paw and began spraying, as soon as the hatch lowered at all. We knew the pirates would fight back, so if they had any information on Larimak's hideout, it was going to need to be bought in blood. I couldn't help but think that this outlaw settlement would be as good of a place as any to hide teleportation research from the Elusians, except for the fact that it was teeming with rogues and bandits.

I spotted a Girret Brigand using all of her arm pockets to wield tiny guns, which would be bad news. Forcing myself to react, I raised my pistol and fired a shot in her direction. I'd forgotten how appalling my aim was, which wasn't helped by the power of the kickback of a Sol gun—I mean, sheesh. My round hit the wall behind her, giving her time to send dozens of pellets our way before I could reset. I flinched, feeling the fur on my neck bristle with acidic terror.

"Capal!" With incredible athleticism, Redge had vaulted onto a low-hanging beam and dangled from his tail. The Girret was fast on the draw and gunned down his species' counterpart, with stone-cold accuracy that I could never have. "You couldn't hit the slope of a desert dune!"

I adjusted my helmet, grateful that I at least had Sol armor. "Perhaps not. You and Ficrae should take point."

"Dawson should take point. Where is he?"

I glanced back at the ship entrance to see the human's bushy black brows knitted together; he seemed to be hyping himself up, having yet to leave. I ducked behind a crate and beckoned to him frantically, to get a pointer finger held up in the "One minute" gesture. I could see Ficrae's EMP suit rampaging around the hall, much less hesitation to blast organics' brains out. My whiskers twitch as I saw a flying green ball behind Dawson's head, kicking him with bright orange feet to little effect.

The human's hand shot to his head, and he wheeled around to face Jetti in amazement. "What did you think that would do?"

"Push you out the door. Making humans angry isn't a good strategy, but you're nothing like your species," the Derandi said with scorn. "Get a move on it. Your friends are counting on you. If you couldn't step up, you should've said so before we were getting shot at!"

"Jetti—"

"I will divebomb you for putting Hirri in danger. You want him to get kidnapped by Brigands?"

Hirri clapped his wings excitedly. "Just rip them apart, like a video game! It'll be awesome!"

"This is why Preston should never have shown you those violent games that are made for monsters. Hirri has a point though; pretend it's not real. That's what I've been doing this whole trip."

"That works?" Dawson asked in amazement.

"Sometimes."

"Then why don't you fight?"

"Do you see how fucking tiny we are? That's why I'm scared of all of you humongous aliens in the first place! You already know why it has to be you; stop stalling!"

I was pinned down behind the crate, while Ficrae was thrown off its feet by a rocket-propelled grenade; it'd struck the ground near the android, sending the machine flying backward into a corner. It was a matter of time before high-powered explosives went flying toward me, or worse, our ship. I blind fired around my barrier in the enemy's direction, not thinking it'd make too much of a difference in my accuracy. Redge leapt perilously between beams with a twirl, a bullet clipping his vest.

We need a superpowered dimension hopper yesterday. It's not much time until other Brigands hear the noise and come running in for backup. Dawson has to understand what's at stake; he has to help us! Even Jetti is making more sense than him.

The human grunted, before barreling out of the ship with a roar. His movement was faster than my eyes could track, like the whizzing bullets we were trading in this battle. The primate had his sights set on the RPG-wielder. He leapt the length of a chasm toward an enemy and, to my amazement and horror, ripped an organic Vascar's head off with the ease of peeling a banana. That seemed to stun Dawson, as I suspected he'd simply been trying to snap her neck.

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There was no time for him to loiter in that shock, though, because another Brigand fired a shotgun round at point-blank range into his back. I could see the rage on his face, after it hardly staggered him and he wheeled around; eyes dilated, blood coating his fingertips. Dawson grabbed this male Vascar and hurled him like a javelin, embedding him through a stone wall head-first. I could imagine what the lethal skull fracture would look like on a post-mortem x-ray.

The dimension-hopper wasted no time stomping a Girret into oblivion, so hard that his boot cleaved deep a thick hole through the ground: not unlike a crashing asteroid. I began to suspect it truly didn't feel real, as he turned to several more Brigands and punched through their chests before they could react. For the first time since I cowered in the dumpster, I remembered why humans had looked like terrible monsters—how easily it could've been me ripped apart like wrapping paper. Storm gods, I was glad he was on our side.

"I." Ficrae popped back up, guns in its grasp; I could picture its eyes glowing murderously beneath the suit. "Hate. Creators!"

It resumed pumping bullets toward any open Vascar to support Dawson, and I decided to offer some covering fire, despite the fact it was clear the human didn't need help. Redge kept a birds-eye view for any reinforcements coming through the bottleneck, and seemed to be maximizing the tactical advantage of the chokepoint. I found my eyes wanting to stray toward the dimension hopper, who crushed a Derandi pirate in one fist as if crumpling a ball of paper. I looked at him in a new light now.

I know I asked Dawson to do this, and it's good that he stepped up…I just remember having conversations with him about being afraid. The Elusians are genuinely petrifying, but look at him. He might not have wanted to do this, yet here he is making it look easy. Who could stand against him?

"Surrender!" Dawson bellowed, the force in his voice making me shudder. I could see blood of my multiple colors splattered across his face. "Don't make me kill all of you. I want information."

The handful of panicked Brigands tossed down their weapons and raised their hands. Ficrae lifted its guns to mow down the surrendering captives, but Redge swiftly intercepted its attempts. The android stared down the Girret representative, its claws twitching near the triggers. The purple-scaled reptile was not impressed with this aggressive display.

"Enough! We need to talk to them for information, and we want them to cooperate. Killing the prisoners now defeats the entire purpose of coming here," Redge hissed.

The android made itself tower over the Girret. "Who says killing the prisoners is not my purpose?"

"I do!" I shouted.

I scurried over there to fend off Ficrae's bloodlust, while Dawson took charge of lining up the prisoners. The human's expression deflated as he looked at his gore-soaked hands, then at me. I tried not to react, giving him a human-style thumbs up for his sake. His lip wobbled when he tried to smile, and I suspected he was holding back a breakdown over what he'd just done. I kept an eye on him, watching him keel over with shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Just appeared in the middle of our fucking base," an organic Vascar pirate grumbled. "What is it you even want? I'm sure we could've struck a deal for your information; we never trifled with humanity when they were around, despite not paying tribute."

"We don't have time for deals." I attempted to look tough, twirling my gun around and almost dropping it. I opted to stand still, letting it fall in front of me and speak for itself. "Tell us what you know about Larimak. Where is he? I'm only asking once, before I release my human friend."

"Prince Larimak? He's our 'leader,' so I'm sure he's hiding out in a cozy settlement. See, he funded the Brigands activities so we could be used against his enemies; it was a nice alliance of convenience, when he had power and noble money to sweeten the deal."

I could feel my eyes bulge in shock, and my claws tightened around the pistol. The Vascar nobility had been calling the shots for a pirate group; the Brigands were in Larimak's back pocket to be used against his enemies? So this was his plan in running off, a place he thought he owned where he wouldn't have to face the music with the humans and his own army! It would be just like the prince to want to take back his crown, and somehow continue to punish Sol for siding with the chipbrains.

The Brigands are more opportunistic though; they want an easy score, I imagine. They noted that he doesn't have his fortune or his power anymore, so he's not much use to them. A pirate's loyalty is bought.

Redge looked livid at the news that Larimak had been backing the Brigands, who'd troubled the Alliance species too. "You are, or aren't, still allied with that lunatic prince?!"

"Oh, not really. Now that he's been ousted, we let him think he's in charge in a gilded cage—in case he might be useful. Larimak wants us to take back the planet for him, as if having a bonkers noble gives legitimacy. We don't need him to take Jorlen, and he'd hurt our cause more than help," the pirate snickered. "He believes our promise to put him back in power, but that's just so he'll point us to some…treasure. We have someone else in mind to take the throne, someone with real value."

"Who?" Dawson demanded.

There was a blur of motion, as a human figure barreled into Dawson and sent him flying across the room like he'd been shot out of a canon. "That'd be me."

The pirate's eyes gleamed with delight. "Hi, boss. Take care of these intruders?"

The sound of cracking knuckles answered. "With pleasure."

The mystery human—somehow, here was another one that hadn't been locked back in Sol—dropped into a defensive posture and eyed his prey. Dawson collided with the wall so hard that his body went halfway through to the next room, and bricks tumbled onto his torso. I gaped in horror at my friend's forceful collision with a wall, thinking how bones would be shattered to little pieces and internal organs turned to putty. Instead, my friend groaned and popped back up, looking more confused that he'd walked that up than anything.

I couldn't understand how there was another dimension hopper outside of Sol, one who had made himself quite familiar with the space pirates. If I understood the fruits of our interrogation at all, it sounded like the Brigands wanted to invade Jorlen and use him as a weapon of mass destruction. It wouldn't be as restrained as the ESU's military assault. I remembered Dawson's prescient words, about what a human with the wrong intentions would be able to do with their powers. Worse still, Earth proper was no longer around to stop this madness. It was all on us.

The human outlaw charged Dawson Fields with a feral look on his face, and the first Sol-on-Sol slugfest was set to commence before my horrified eyes.

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