Fiction Short story

Gordon Collins surveyed the air from his throne in the sky, circling above in his machine of glittering metal, the aluminum-steel composite rotors thrashing the air with an unnatural roar that seemed to disturb the very planet itself, lifting and heaving the device with the whirl of the strongest gales. His hands moved over the controls with practiced deft, the craft obeying his every movement with precision and speed. Down below, tower cranes worked to hurriedly assemble gleaming towers of glass and steel, skyscrapers that would rise over the foreign lands. Construction vehicles painted as yellow as the amber sun in the sky moved to and fro, like ants swirling around their nest. 

Humans walked alongside the imposing engines, escorting them to their worksite. Bulldozers tore away the forest, leaving nothing behind except the memories of what came before, while the excavators moved in to dig the foundations for what would become the greatest human city ever constructed, their buckets tearing into the alien soil, as concrete and pavement was laid down in its place.

It hadn’t always been like this. Gordon remembered his first day on Dice R53, a planet that had been discovered by humanity some 4 years earlier through the EIWP, or the Earth Interstellar Wormhole Program. He didn’t really understand what it all meant – it was all sciency-crap to him. He just knew that he had been paid good money to do a job, and he intended to do it well. When the PAD-V, or Planetary Ascent and Descent Vehicle landed on Dice R53’s surface and he stepped off of the landing platform, he was greeted by a sight unlike any other. Here, this alien world, 16.32 light years away from Earth, was teeming with life. Lush blue and purple hues of plants and trees rose up from magenta grass-like vines that covered the planet’s surface. There, cradled in a nest of fallen trees, lay Alpha One, the largest and most recent of the 7 human outposts that existed on Dice R53, colloquially abbreviated to “Dice” by the humans stationed there. 

As Gordon stepped into the base, he had been greeted by scientists and engineers alike, who had been working hard to keep the human colony running. They informed him that they didn’t even know how the plants thrived and grew without the usual chlorophyll that is common on Earth, much less how the planet’s ecosystems functioned and thrived. Then, a man wearing a serious expression stepped forwards, not bothering with a warm welcome. He was in his mid-40’s, and dressed in a clean suit of camouflaged clothing to separate him from the scientists that lived on the colony. Introducing himself as Commander Josef Arnolds, he led Gordon to a briefing room, where he informed Gordon of his real job. 

“Contact has been made with the native sapient inhabitants of the world, a type of humanoid race called the “Arkaik”, so named for their technological inferiority,” the Commander said. “They possess a level of intelligence and technology similar to 16th-Century humanity.”

The commander sighed, before continuing. “Previous expedition teams have failed, their progress halted by the many native species of fauna present on the planet. Though their technology is inferior, we greatly underestimated the strength of their numbers.”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “These lands are littered with their castles and villages, and talks of peace have faltered. They are primitive, however, their society appears to be based on perpetual conquest and conflict. A rapid offensive to their social and economic heart should prove adequate to discourage further resistance. Do I make myself clear?”

Gordon raised an accusatory eyebrow at the Commander’s words, but nodded anyways, deciding that the Commander wouldn’t enjoy further questioning. He simply crossed his arms behind his back, and replied, “Crystal clear, sir.”

The commander briefed Gordon on his mission – providing support for motorized patrols around Alpha One, establishing a defensive perimeter to shield the colony from further attacks and aggression, while a strike force was assembled. His craft would be an SAH-54 Razorstrike, an aging yet nimble craft that had served with distinction on Earth during past wars in the 22nd century, beloved by ground crews for being reliable and easy to maintain. It was a beautiful machine, really. Two counter-rotating rotors provided lift, removing the need for an anti-torque propeller in the rear, allowing it a distinct silhouette reminiscent of fixed-wing aircraft. The olive drab camouflage paint glimmered in the artificial glow of the hangar’s ceiling lights as Gordon approached it for the first time. 

As he jumped into the cockpit, his hands met the unyielding metal of the cabin, a mix of alloys, polymers, and screens that had been manufactured only days earlier, right in the manufacturing department. Slowly, ground crews helped move the vehicle out of the hangar, pushing it out onto a suitable take-off location nearby, while Gordon went through his checklist to get the machine started. He had received months of training back on Earth, and had logged thousands of hours in simulators and training aircraft – but this was the real deal. Here he was, sitting in a Razorstrike, 16.32 light years from Earth, defending Alpha One. The bastion of humanity, the last hope for mankind. Indeed, his mission was not one out of greed, nor hatred, rather necessity. Earth was dying, and Dice was the replacement. But all of that hinged on keeping Alpha One safe while a greater military presence was established.

The air churned violently around the Razorstrike, as great masses of air were swirled through the spinning rotors, thrashing like an angry beast.

“Easy girl,” Gordon whispered, his hands gripping the controls. The machine seemed to be begging for the skies, pleading to have its leash cut. “We’ll be up soon.”

Finally, the time came. As he received clearance from the conning tower, and a solid thumbs-up from nearby ground crew, the brazen device of gleaming metal took to the skies, amidst a backdrop of the setting star. A dull orange glow was cast over the helicopter as it sliced through Dice’s foreign air, the dying light of the day glinting off of the rocket pods and air-to-air missiles that had been mounted to the machine. 

Through all their existence, the Arkaik had dominated their home planet, presiding over their lands like gods. They never once considered the possibility that across the gulf of space, envious eyes gazed upon their world with malicious intent. They never once paused to contemplate the idea of life among the endless abyss of the cosmos, while plans were drawn up that would seal the fate of their entire civilization, hundreds of billions of miles away. They never once concerned themselves with the stars, even as they were studied as closely as a scientist may scrutinize a drop of water under a microscope, watching it teeming with life.

They had come from the stars, and they were here to put an end to the Arkaik’s reign. Despite all of the shortcomings, tragedies, and wars, Humanity, through all its flaws and imperfections, retains one aspect that no one has been able to beat out of them quite yet. Resilience. The unwavering determination to keep going, to persevere, even in the face of insurmountable odds. The unyielding desire to survive, to thrive even in the most dire situations, to the point where it may seem ludicrous –  that is humanity. Even as their home planet died, humanity clung to hope, hope that they may endure. They found that hope, and it was called Dice R53.