humans are the only species that will answer random distress calls.

originally posted to humansarespaceorcs. in the process of reposting my work after my account was hacked and deleted :( please enjoy :)

--

Syracuse-Class transports are a thing of beauty. They’re sleek and elegant, built to pierce like knives through the infinite void. Anyone would be honored— first— and chilled— second— to see such a vessel descend from orbit, ready to disgorge her fierce cargo into the fray.

But not this one. The DMF Sessaly holds a mere 10% of her maximum passengers. Bunks have been hastily converted into medical rooms; diagnostic tools, oxygen tanks, and surgical carts trail into the corridors. Shrill, overlapping beeps and buzzes war with the rumbling purr of the Sessaly’s engines. Exhausted medics do rounds. I can’t walk. My knee has been thoroughly dissembled by shrapnel and further struggle. Bedbound, I watch us hurtle through space.

We’re on the retreat. Some part of me is grateful that I won’t have to fight anymore. The other part…

We don’t like backing down. It’s easier when there isn’t a choice. 

I’m woken from a doze by the horrendous, thunderous sound of an explosion. The Sessaly rocks, suddenly unbalanced, and when I crook my head to look out my window I catch sight of one of her massive engines consumed entirely by flame. Alarms kick up all throughout the ship, lights pulsing red, sirens blaring orders. We’re to evacuate. 

I expect to panic. Death— the thought of it, the promise of it so close— should terrify me. I lever myself out of the cot and manage only to sprawl on the floor as my mangled leg and back scream in pain. If I can make it to the hall, maybe someone will help me stand…

I crawl. It feels like knives are being jammed up my spine with every movement, but I make it to the hall, and I can hear yelling over the alarms now. Various pleas for help. Expected. The Sessaly roars, shudders underneath me. 

It’s the next scream that properly frightens me.

Humans! Human boarders!

Was it them? Initiating a dogfight with a personnel transport, no doubt full of fresh soldiers, and in doing so aid their front? What a surprise for them, then, that they’ll find only broken and dying ones. Easier prey. The cries rise, and then go silent. 

All the while they’re getting closer to me. By the time the humans turn the corner to my hallway, I’m shaking. I pretend it’s from the pain. 

“Get into every room! Make sure you don’t leave a single one!”

That’s utterly ghoulish. I try and push up onto my hands and at least one knee, but the effort is too much for how thoroughly diminished I’ve become and I make it about halfway up before I collapse.

“Over there!”

Of-fucking-course. This is it. This is where I die. I would have preferred dying in a great big fireball as the Sessaly succumbed to her wounds.

Two humans stride towards my prone body with alarming intent. I try to glare at them; my vision spins. 

“C’mon up, soldier.”

What?

One of them kneels down. I’m frozen, dead weight as he grabs my arm and slings it over his shoulder. He’s at least twice my weight and has at least six inches on me, so I’m not concerned about his ability to carry me. I still try, weakly, to support myself as he stands and takes me with him.

“Can you walk?”

I squeeze his shoulder and manage a harsh, ragged huff. “Think so.” 

“We gotta get out of here,” the other human cautions. He keeps glancing back at the rest of his pack, brows furrowed. “Ten minutes to reactor failure. Just pick ‘em up and go.” 

It only takes a moment, and suddenly I’m slung over his shoulders. I can help stabilize myself, but that’s about it. As much as I would have liked to walk out of here, with the condition my body is in I know better than to argue. 

“Hell of a time to send a distress signal. Five minutes later—“

A distress signal?

Of course. I can’t bring myself to puzzle through why the humans would even bother responding, and then, once seeing a ship that belonged to the enemy, boarding to offer aid. It’s something to think about later. In this moment, I’m just glad for the help.