Later that evening, near 11:00 a.m. on March 17, Lieutenant Colonel Moser—responsible for guarding the western defense wall and outpost of the Augustgrad immigrant settlement—ordered the corpse of the alien creature they had killed to be sent back to the command center where Ryk Kydd was stationed.
The Revolutionary Army had reported several kills before, yet so far this was the only body ever recovered.
Along with the alien corpse came some simple food: thick bread made from synthetic flour, a few pieces of fresh cream, smoked beef, and several cans of tea.
Ryk had the corpse—its armor soaked in dark black blood—laid out on the long table where the battle maps were spread. Dozens of Revolutionary Army officers surrounded the obsidian table brought from Korhal, quietly discussing as they stuffed food into their mouths.
Most of these officers were between twenty and thirty years old. Beneath their deep-red powered armor they wore sharp, single-breasted dark-gray field jackets and trousers made of synthetic cotton. On their chests gleamed wolf-head emblems and V-shaped rank insignias; the wide-brimmed military caps hanging on the command post's rack bore the Revolutionary Army's emblem of the Whip-Holding Ring.
Simply wearing those uniforms—tight belts at the waist, crisp lines throughout—was enough for these young soldiers to draw admiring eyes among the populace and inspire others to enlist.
"So this is the monster that killed Suez, Noviyev, and Cyr—an indigenous creature?" While Ryk remained silent, a Revolutionary Army major cautiously ran his hand over the black armor that shimmered with a cold metallic sheen.
It was an alien being with coarse, dark-gray skin, standing roughly 2.7 to 3 meters tall its broad hands, much larger than a human male's, ending in four sharp-clawed fingers. Its powerful hind legs resembled those of terrestrial ungulates, the lower legs bent backward from the knees down to bare ankles. From the structure of its hips, it seemed capable of upright movement.
Wrinkles interlaced across its skin, making it appear under the command center's cold blue lights as though it were covered in the dense scales of a reptile—but closer inspection and a tentative touch revealed the surface to be surprisingly smooth and fine-textured.
The creature possessed a long, narrow pointed chin and a protruding forehead; gray locks a few inches wide hung from the back of its skull like a set of dreadlocks. It wore a black helmet forged from alien metal, full-body armor, and a dark-red woven battle skirt extending down to the leg joints. Sharp spikes and blades jutted from every part of its armor, seemingly designed to inflict as much harm as possible upon its enemies.
Its chest had taken several direct hits from grenade rounds and thousands of spike bullets, yet the surface showed only wear and scarring. The fatal wound came from its barely visible neck; the dark-purple blood—nearly black—had already dried. From this it was clear that the creature was not invulnerable to blades or bullets; it too was made of flesh and blood.
Ryk could hardly imagine what kind of foes such a being had fought against—otherwise, why would it need such brutal, blood-soaked ornamentation unless it was meant for killing its own kind?
It had taken him quite some time to remove the creature's helmet, and at that moment, every officer shuddered at the sight of its strange face. The being possessed only a pair of dull, lifeless eyes, with no nostrils and no lips—one could hardly imagine whether it needed to breathe or take in any nutrients at all.
As Ryk stared into the creature's face, an indescribable tremor coursed through him.
In this universe, humanity had never been alone.
He recalled something his family tutor from House Bennett had once told him when he was a child: among the endless starlight above, some of those rays had traveled for millions of years—the stars that emitted them might have long since perished. There were billions upon billions of suns in the universe, and the forms of life that could exist were infinite.
As early as when Earthlings first established colonies within the Solar System, humanity had searched tirelessly throughout the universe for signs of intelligent life—and found nothing.
Within the Koprulu Sector, the only known organisms discovered by humans were the Umojan giant insects and primitive reptilian creatures. Without exception, their intelligence was no greater than that of a two-year-old domestic pet.
The Revolutionary Army had once encountered a terrifying alien species on Vyctor V. Researchers from the Federation had classified these beings as the Zerg—clearly proof that they had already come across alien life. It was possible that the Federation military had also met the same kind of creatures that the Korhal colonists had faced on Bel'Shir and had even given them a name, but had chosen to keep it from the public.
"His appearance is disgusting," said a lieutenant whose comrades had all perished at the hands of alien monsters.
"What kind of local species could they have evolved from? Crabs or lizards—? They look extremely primitive," another Revolutionary Army captain remarked.
"Primitive or not, they possess single-soldier stealth technology capable of evading most of our detection systems, sub-warp field generators, cloaking shields, energy shield emitters, cluster plasma blades sharp enough to slice a CMC-200 powered armor—or even an Arclite Tank's 100 mm plating—clean in half, and particle beam cannons that can tear our soldiers apart with a single shot. This may well be the remnant of an ancient alien civilization," Ryk concluded.
Two years ago, this twenty-year-old Revolutionary Army major general had been nothing more than a disillusioned young noble of the Old Families. Yet within a short span, he had endured the Guild Wars, the Korhal Rebellion, and the Great Escape.
Those experiences were forging this once-ordinary aristocrat into a warrior of steel. And yet, in the face of these alien enemies on Bel'Shir, even steel felt like it was striking against cotton.
Were it not for the steadfast leader commanding this colonial fleet, the situation would have long since spiraled beyond control. Every army that entered the jungles had met no return; the people were slaughtered. This place lay beyond the Koprulu Sector, far from humanity's core worlds—isolated, without aid.
Yet Ryk knew he could never allow himself to give up. He bore heavy responsibility—and, above all, he was one of the few whom the Marshal of the Revolutionary Army trusted most.
That was the only faith keeping Ryk standing.
"Their civilization may have regressed tens of millennia ago—but even so, their technology still holds an overwhelming advantage over ours."
"Their limited numbers are likely the reason these creatures have not yet launched a full-scale assault against us," he said. "They linger just beyond our line of sight, weakening our forces through repeated ambushes—until we're exhausted, and then the final offensive begins."
"I even suspect they harbor a peculiar obsession—much like certain ancient tribes from Earth's early ages—proving their strength by hunting and killing our strongest warriors."
"If he were still alive, that would've been for the best," Ryk said at last, a hint of regret in his tone.
"Do you know how he died? That bastard and his companions ran rampant through Moser's barracks—it took dozens of our soldiers to finally bring him down!" an officer shouted, slamming his fist heavily onto the table.
"What the hell is going on here? Could this place really just be a training ground for their warrior trials? Are we nothing more than livestock raised by these creatures?"
"They only target our soldiers—showing no interest whatsoever in defenseless women or children—but that doesn't mean they possess any kind of knightly code or mercy. Perhaps such beings are simply incapable of emotions comparable to humans."
"Who knows where these monsters live—within those alien ruins, or underground? We've been on the defensive from start to finish."
"What worries me even more," Ryk said grimly, "is that they might have a fleet of their own."
As he spoke, Ryk removed a metallic wristguard from the creature's arm, and in his other hand picked up a weapon about 2.1 m long—something like a staff.
He rotated the heavy staff, rapped it lightly against the table, then handed it to his adjutant. "Give this to our engineers. It might help in developing our new weapon systems."
Then, waving off the subordinates who tried to stop him, Ryk slid the alien wristguard onto his own forearm. His muscular arm looked almost slender beside it.
Nothing unusual happened.
Shaking his head in disappointment, Ryk handed the wristguard to his adjutant as well. "Take him to the scientists for dissection. Only by understanding the structure of these creatures can we discover their possible weaknesses."
"What should we call this species—for clarity in command protocols?"
"Alien monsters," Ryk said. "What else could we call them?"
"Sebold, how much supply do we have left?" he asked as several soldiers entered the command center carrying the alien corpse, its dark-purple blood still oozing.
"The stored wheat flour, meat, and canned fruits can sustain the 320,000 settlers of Augustgrad for nine weeks. If we activate the synthetic food plant's production lines, we can extend that to at least half a year. Food isn't the problem—our shortage lies in high-energy gas fuels and weaponry."
Sebold was a lieutenant under Ryk. He also served as the first officer aboard the colony mothership Styrling, mainly responsible for the ship's logistics and daily administration.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---