Why Humans Make Bad Pets!

What makes one Human V

1 Year, 6 Months later (6 Months Before the 74th’s Attack)

Alliance Barracks

“Why are they reassigning us again?” Valur asked.

“I get to choose where we’re posted for our second term since I’m a Brigadier.”

“And you chose Utgul-3 Sensor Outpost guard duty because . . .”

“It’s an incredibly valuable station. The Alliance will do anything to hang on to it.”

“Right, and the Dominion will do anything to get it.”

He had a point, but Xiavo was sure he’d made the right choice. “True, but guard duty on the station is more or less a token job. The real guard is the 16th, 18th, and 20th armored divisions, along with the Skal and Vico Vulza packs. The Dominion doesn’t have enough troops to devote to one battle to take it. It’s probably the safest place for us to be. Just watch, you’ll still be an engineer.”

“I trust you, I just wanted to make sure you had a sound line of reasoning. If there’s one thing about you I don’t trust it’s your sense of logic.”

“You wound me. Don’t worry about a thing. It’ll be the easiest 9 cycles (4 years 6 months) of your life.”

Current Day

Utgul-3 Sensor Outpost

I had this record in the bag. Seriously, this twisting labyrinth of a station just meant that the enemy didn’t see me coming around the corner, and then my reflexes took care of the rest. I was having a bit of a problem remembering which parts of the station I’d already cleared, but I figured if I just kept running and turned on an impulse I was bound to clear the whole thing eventually.

Whipping around a corner I ran face first into a heavy ray pulse. My shield had given out a few hallways back, so I took what felt like a hard punch to the face. My face had suffered worse punishment before, and I kept running, skewering the alien responsible for the offense. His group of friends didn’t have their friend's reflexes, or aim, and their shot, if they hit me at all, struck my torso and arms, which, although it hurt, was a very familiar hurt that by now barely registered. I continued down the hall, and entered a room I hadn’t been in yet. It looked pretty important though, as there were more monitors and blinking lights than had been in any room I’d been in so far.

My eyes, however, fell upon on a small metal chute built into the wall of a small side room. Inside the little scoop at the bottom were a few of those lovely grey spheres. They wouldn’t have the calcium supplements they’d been making me take for a while now, but they were still food, and as I said, I was starving.

“Dough spheres! Oh boy! And water too! You spoil me too much!” I was pretty excited. Rushing to the dispenser I ate a sphere without chewing the correct number of times, but it was okay, because no one was watching. At least, that’s what I thought. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed them, but two enemies were still inside the control room and watching me. I looked up just as one pointed an anti-tank ray gun at me. Those things hurt. I hadn’t noticed in time, and I took half an anti-tank pulse to the side. I think it broke some ribs.

I was genuinely scared now, and adrenaline dulled the pain and fueled my retaliation. Jumping at the one with the anti-tank gun I lined my scimitar with his chest. He dodged. He was a fast little bugger. His companion didn’t seem to have his partner’s skill, or weapon, or aim. The other guy was, just the worst. He only had a heavy, so he wouldn’t have been very affective even if he’d managed to hit me, but his shots were so far off he almost hit the other guy. I ignored him and focused on the real threat. This other guy knew how to move, and he kept positioning things in between him and myself, always moving positions and shooting at me with that infernal weapon. I silenced that as soon as possible.

He really was fast, and his positioning hindered my attacks to an annoying degree, but he was only just fast enough to dodge my wild flails which I called attacks. He, however, wasn’t fast enough to keep his gun out of my reach. I quickly managed to slice that in half, leaving him only with a pistol. He was getting tired, and my ribs were making it hard to move now. In the end I just threw my scimitar at him. It hit him hilt-first in the head, but by now I knew it wouldn't have mattered even if it had hit him with the flat of the blade and in the shin; it was lethal either way.

What I didn’t expect upon the impact was the roar of raw fury to come from my left, followed by what felt like an actual punch. It turned out it was a punch. The other alien, an arm an and leg of which were mechanical, I now realized, used the strength given to him by his artificial limbs to attack with far greater efficacy than he had with his gun. The speed of his attacks stunned me, and I found myself defending against his onslaught for some time after his initial attack. Eventually he tired, though, and I threw him away from me so I could catch my breath. He hit the wall and slid beside his friend.

He wasn’t dead yet, but he didn’t renew his attack. Instead, he approached the body of his fallen comrade. He emitted a keening wail unlike anything I’d heard before, but I instantly recognized. Emotion is spoken by everyone, sorrow most of all. What was I doing? Why did I feel no remorse? The justifications I had long fixed in my mind: it’s war, you’re just trying to get home, they signed up for it, all seemed hollow in my ears as I said them over and over again. Was this all I was? A killing machine, blasé of the c*****e he inflicted around him as he strode implacably towards his goal? Was getting home worth it if I had to wade through a river of bodies to get there?

But weren’t these soldiers? Hadn’t they signed up for it?

Do you even know what you’re fighting for? Do you even care anymore? Do you care about your morals, or lack thereof?

I didn’t ask to be abducted! It’s their fault, and I’ll be damned if I let them stop me from getting back home!

I paused. Was that my motivation, my driving thought behind my actions? I didn’t know. Seeing the alien’s pain, feeling my own confusion, I felt shame as never before. I ran from the room, running from my problems as I always had in the days before my a*******n. I hadn’t changed a bit. _________________________________________________________________________________________________

The alien; no, the monster, didn’t kill Valur as he lay beside Xiavo’s corpse. Valur didn’t know why. He found he didn’t care. Xiavo was dead. Killed on a post he’d said would be easy. Murdered by a creature of supernatural abilities, and Valur had failed to kill it. He wouldn’t fail again. He would find it, and he would kill it. Not today though. Today, he just had to survive. The station would soon be under Dominion hands. A drop ship had collapsed an outer wall on a corridor near the control center. He could escape through there, and with luck, avoid the Dominion in the area. He was happy Xiavo had shown him how to move quietly, though he was afraid he wasn’t very good. It would have to suffice, however. He would escape, he would find the monster, and he would end it.