It Began to Feel Our Pain
30 Jan 2022Lily Flemmon
I had been doing what I could to keep Thargoids at bay. I was flying a Chieftain, outfitted for anti-xeno operations, but it had a jump range of 25 light-years or something, and decontamination nanites all over the hull, based on CTAC technology. Nearly invulnerable to Thargoid weaponry, but still limited in how much damage it could dish out. The Thargoid war was going… very badly. Much of the Federation had already been lost, and 21 Draco was under threat, and had been evacuated about a month prior, with the exception of Chilton Terminal. The vast majority of my home station’s population opted to stay, because their work had become crucial for humanitarian aid efforts, and the station had a similar nanorobotic decontamination system as my Chieftain.
I remember thinking, why me? Why do I wind up with one of the only ships that can tank just about any damage from Thargoids? Im nowhere near the best anti-xeno pilot, even with all the experience I'd gained over the last three months. Little did I know I was about to find out why.
I was returning from the war front to get a night’s rest, and I dropped on the station’s nav point just like every other day’s end, and I was greeted by… Nothing. Where was the station? I scanned for transponder codes, in case the nav point was wrong. Nothing matching Chilton Terminal, but one I didn’t recognize, and it was faint. I jumped into supercruise to triangulate its source, and it was… on the far side of the planet. The planet full of farms that now lay untended, and cities that stood silent, as it had been evacuated a month prior. The planet that definitely should not be the source of the only active transponder signal for over 100 light-seconds.
I accelerated and flew around the planet until I could see the point of origin for the signal, and it was… a blackened streak in one of the forest preserves, large enough to be visible from space, and as I engaged emergency atmospheric entry protocols, I began to suspect the worst. I dropped at a 20 kilometer altitude and began atmospheric reentry. This ship wasn’t equipped properly for full atmospheric reentry, but I surfed the atmosphere as long as I could to lengthen my deceleration, and then gradually lost altitude, using reverse thrusters the rest of the way, and managed to get by without overheating. The nanites were programmed to avoid incoming thermal and ballistic damage, so I didn’t lose many of them- my paint, however, was a different story.
I made a final gliding approach to what was clearly the wreckage of Chilton Terminal, in a swath of charred and windswept forest at least 5km wide and 50km long. I scanned for escape pod debris, and only found a handful of pods’ worth, meaning much of the population had escaped, but I saw evidence of thargoid attack- not by using weapons, but by physically pushing the entire starport out of orbit. The unidentified transponder signal wasn’t too far from the impact site, only about 30 kilometers away. I couldn't take any more of the sight, so I turned and headed toward the signal.
—-
This ship’s computer wasn’t set up for atmospheric flight, and in emergency protocols, flight assist wasn’t available, as the computer had no frame of reference to work with. Good news was that I could still fly manually well enough, especially once I had some airspeed. I had to be a bit careful not to break Mach 1, which here was only about 330 meters per second. I followed the signal to find a large encampment, tents still being set up, and supplies being brought in by two Adders that had remnants of Apex livery; their paint had been heavily worn from maneuvers similar to the one I did to get down to this planet's surface. I landed and, as night fell, I reunited with what was left of Chilton Terminal’s once-stalwart population. Every faction in the system had representation, and all had given up governance of the camp to CTAC, although much of the administrative staff had not survived the crash. I found Ronni had been voted in as the new Director, and she had been relying heavily on a vast impromptu cabinet, since little governance was necessary here- the spirit of cooperation was stronger than ever.
After sunset, I finally got something to eat, and I was briefed on proposed plans to salvage anything possible from the wreckage. A few hours into the night, nobody was able to sleep, least of all myself. I was preparing to leave in my Chieftain to protect one of the Adders, piloted by Zinnia, as its original pilot was off-station during the attack, when suddenly a bright flash lit up the night sky for a moment, quickly replaced by a green flower-shaped glow.
—-
I took off immediately, and raced toward the intruder, firing up my xeno scanner… Medusa-class Thargoid Interceptor. As it began to lose altitude, however, it started to roll, slowly at first, and then faster, and faster. Once it had completed a full revolution, and was still accelerating its roll, I realized this wasn’t a deliberate maneuver. My range was closing, and I hadn’t noticed any weapons activity from the Medusa… In fact, I noticed it had started to take damage from the spiraling reentry. It then managed to feather, and then reverse its petals, slowing its uncontrolled roll rate, and seeing no weapons activity still, and knowing my Gauss cannons were nearly useless in this dense atmosphere, as they were designed to operate exclusively in vacuum conditions, I kept my hardpoints retracted, and flew alongside it to the surface, somewhat guiding it to a hopefully suitable landing spot within a kilometer of the camp. We had reached an altitude of 1100 meters when one of the petals broke off and the Medusa lost its thruster power, or whatever it had for maneuvering capabilities, and I quickly maneuvered into the spot where the petal had been, and, using my landing gear, clamped onto the two adjacent petals and the central cabin, and began carrying the now-defunct Medusa to the landing zone, all pips to thrusters to be able to handle the load.managing to set it down before any more petals fell off, but not before the lost petal hit the ground and exploded in a hail of ammonium-based shards.
I was far enough away to avoid much of the blast, and I luckily shielded much of the camp from the blast, but I noticed one shard had embedded itself in the canopy of the Medusa, so I continued my efforts to safely alight the alien vessel on the surface, which only took another 45 seconds. I detached my Chieftain, landing gear only slightly corroded and quickly being cleaned, and landed it right next to the Medusa. I disembarked on foot, and ran up one of the now-unlit petals to the canopy, and found a Thargoid- insectoid, not more than 2 meters outstretched, inside, seemingly struggling to escape the canopy, one of its seven limbs clearly weaker than its mirrored counterpart, indicating an injury, and it appeared to have just pulled that limb off of the shard. But the alien was active and alive, and it wanted to get out, and it evidently had the means to survive in this atmosphere and temperature. I took out my arc cutter and cut into the alien canopy, nitrate vapors rising into the night sky, and then helped the alien lift the clear dome up and over so it could disembark. I held out my arm to help it climb up and out, and it seemed to understand the gesture, as it placed a limb in my hand and I pulled it up. We walked down the petal, with me partially supporting it, as it was limping, half-dragging its injured limb.
—-
The alien and I approached the camp, much to the bewilderment of the former system security guards waiting for us at the outskirts. I brought the injured creature to the main medical tent, and told one of the guards to let them know I was coming, along with anyone else who might be able to help, especially any surviving members of the CTAC core tech labs- if anyone could find a way to treat an alien injury, it’d be one of those geniuses. Not many other words were exchanged, as everyone was too bewildered at the events unfolding before their eyes. I had almost reached the medical tent when Ronni came running out, and yelling to me, “Lily! Get in here fast! Phoenix is hit!”
Hit? No, no…
I pulled one of the guards towards me and had her continue helping the injured Thargoid as I ran toward the tent. The alien, my new… friend, or so it seemed, clearly wanted to follow, and with the help of the guard I had suddenly recruited, it did so, at a notably brisk pace. It arrived at the tent just as I kneeled down next to Phoenix, the pungent shard stuck into their abdomen. They were one of the few people who had been hit, and the alien saw what its ship’s debris had done, and it began to understand. It started to understand the pain it had caused just these few people, it began to understand our race’s individually sentient nature, and it began to understand why we value individual lives so much more than its race does, and then it looked back at me, kneeling over Phoenix, giving them comfort as they said their final words:
“Lily… I’m so proud, you- you did it...” And as they let out their last breath I collapsed on top of them, sobbing.
And then the alien not only understood us, it began to feel our pain.
—-
I just woke up in a cold sweat from what was clearly one hell of a dream. Am I okay? Probably not. No, definitely not. But right now, my top priority is to write down everything I remember from it before it fades, because this dream is… it’s just important, okay? And it’s a dream, so of course it won’t make sense at face value, but I’m going to do my best to ignore that, and for anyone else who ends up reading this, I suggest you do the same.
And I know Phoenix is alive and safe, but… I’m still gonna call them in the middle of the night, just to be sure.