A Science Fiction Space Opera

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The remnants of the exosolar forces are making war on the innersolar forces in a quest of vengeance for the massive crime of nearly exterminating their race of modified people in an act of genocide. They really should not have done that.

Submitted: July 08, 2016

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Submitted: July 08, 2016

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A Science Fiction Space Opera

 

In the silence of space I am surrounded by destruction as the Earthers massive  battle fleet is effortlessly being exterminated.  I am an an Exosolar space marine and I am doing what I was made to do.  Revenge.  I should feel fear, or something but I don't.  My emotions were long ago bred out of my genome as were my lungs or anything else that was not necessary.  Instead of lungs I have a photosynthesis bladder with space gills.  This inhuman modifications my kind had gone through had made deep space travel feasible.  What made me a space marine is my complete lack of fear and my neural interfacing that had turned me into a heartless killer.  My mother went through 12 surgeries during her pregnancy to make me the weapon I am now.  In my world she is the honorable veteran who had sacrificed her child to restore our way of life.  And so I was born barely human a killer of unimaginable scale.  
Earthers were correct to fear my type but foolish to provoke are anger.  Who were they to dictate how we should live?  Wearing nothing but my space suit and a rocket pack I am jetting from ship to ship delivering tiny antimatter patches.  At strategic times they are activated blasting massive holes in the ships.  My movements are concealed by repetitive blinding flashes from our lead ship the Hammerhead.  Like the name implies the front of the ship looks like a hammerhead sharks head.  On one side there is a trainable gun that shoots jets of positive gravity enriched antimatter streams and on the other side is a negative electron gun.  With mere micro grams of ejected matter massive energetic flashes of light and radiation are emitted.  Although blinding to natural eyes the real damning damage is done by the EMP pulses that are released with each flash.  Although every Earth ship was built to withstand EMP equivalent in magnitude to nuclear blast without damage they could have never guessed that the ships would have to withstand one every 1 to 2 seconds.  The the constant and repetitive flashes from every direction has completely blinded every human  and electronic eye in every way.  In this environment I have found myself the slaughterer, executing one ship and crew after another.  
With our work nearly done the remnants turn to flee.  In this moment their doom is sealed.  The Hammerhead pauses firing for a few seconds as the guns re calibrate to fire a different mode.  With the ships engines facing the Hammerhead the ship fires the streams of energy straight into the engines at an increased magnitude of 1000 times.  Firing once every second the last of the fleet is completely disabled in under 20 seconds.  With victory guaranteed I receive my last 2 targets with device placement suggestions through my neural network.  Final placement will be up to me.  Unlike the undamaged ships that I have killed these people will see it coming.  I wonder what they are doing in their final moments.  Are they angry?  Are they sad or scared?  I knew emotions existed. 
My mothers tears at our last embrace at 5 years old will permanently etched into my brain.  Although unable to feel the pain and fear in her eyes I was able to appreciate it.  After I left for battle school deep in the Oort cloud I was still able to communicate with her freely during my last 10 years.  With such small population after the near extermination event she could not follow me as every last individual was needed for the rebuilding efforts.  
In this certain moment of destruction the unimaginable happens as a mechanical voice comes through my neural network instructing me pause aggressive acts.  Confused I tap into the crews general announcement line.  Our captain is broadcasting his live conversation.  In our culture secrets and subterfuge do not exist.  Knowledge is free to everyone is a keystone concept of our mutated culture.  “All we are saying is you have won the battle.  Killing the rest is not needed.”  That must be the captain of the Jupiter and Saturn  Alliance who had come to observe battle.  Our captain responds with an impersonal mechanical voice.  Without lungs our computers had to speak for us.  Everyone had a personalized voice set up and use them in normal conversation except when outraged.  Without facial expression this mode of speaking is a sign of extreme anger and contempt.  “They tried to exterminate us like vermin and you argue their case?  Have you so easily forgotten what they did to us?  This is total war.  We will show no quarter.  Do you wish to negate your neutrality by interfering?”  The other captain is clearly shaken by the quiver in his voice.  “Of course not.  I mean, we value life.  And as clearly stated in our stance agreement with your people we are completely neutral.  Although we are deeply disturbed by the changes your culture has gone through we are can not stand with people who had done such horrible things to your people on Eris and Sedna, that is why we split with the solar alliance and gave refuge to those of your kind who could reach our territories.”  After a moment of silence our captain in his computer voice rebuttals.  “Do you have anything of consequence to say?  We have a job to do and by distracting me I am considering this conversation as an act of aggression.”  After another pause another calmer female voice responds.  “Commodore Vogue, this is Saturn's diplomat Chelsie.  We have met before.  I apologize for Captain Smiths poor choice of words.  As observers we are just asking you to open a communication line with the ranking member of the surviving force.  They are begging to unconditionally surrender.  We are willing to take their survivors into protected custody with you dictating the terms of their confinement.  We will not under any circumstance endanger our neutrality agreement.”  Barely had the last word escaped before our captain responded.  “Patch them through your communication system.  I am under strict orders to never open communication line with an Inner Solar Alliance vessel.  I will do this for you Chelsie only because of the level of respect you showed before we were nearly exterminated.  Suddenly a scratchy voice filled with static is online.  “Commodore Vogue, this is lieutenant commander Rickover.  I am completely and unconditionally surrendering to you.  Please I am begging you as a foolish father please cease your aggression.”  “I was ordered to give no quarter.  This conversation is over unless you can give me a good reason to disobahy orders.  This will be your last response, make it count.”  I get orders over the neural net that combat is getting ready to start again.  “Vogue I am on my knees, we are fools in all ways.  In our arrogance we did not evacuate the families of our long haulers.  The Torrant and Emerald Glare are filled to the brim with the children of our service members.  This is war but these are children.  We were fools. ”  The silence painfully drags on.  “Please.”  He begs one more time.  The two ships in question are my targets.  Although emotionless as I am logically I still have free choice and I will not do what was done to my people.  I slip the antimatter patches back into their holders.  I open my network with the 3 dozen marines that are with me in battle.  To my surprise I am the last one among the surviving ships.  The rest of my comrades had been recalled to the shuttle Lightning Strike to await further orders.  I look through my orders log and it is clear that my last order was to stand by.  Why is their orders different?  Suddenly I get a new order.  Balling up in the fetal position my flexible suit hardens to steel like strength as it changes on the molecular level to be armor.  
Through my dozen or so cameras and scopes on my suit I see the flare of 10 rocket torpedoes heading towards the disabled ships.  I am thankful that this is a choice I do not have to make.  The enemies ships try to use their maneuvering jets to dodge the speeding missiles but I know it will be futile.  Suddenly in rapid succession 10 ships erupt in massive explosions of white flame.  My suit frees up once all the possible debris  has flown by.  There is very little left of the ships that had been hit by the missiles.  Surprisingly the Torrent and Emerald Glare are still in one piece.  However the Emerald Glare seems to be significantly damaged by the debris that had crashed into it is now slowly spinning with wisps of escaping atmosphere from several pot marked holes.  Over my neural network I am directly addressed by Captain Vogue in his personalized voice.  “DD-213 are you willing to operate interdependently for some time.”  My answer is as much of a reflex as it is true.  “Always.”  Prepare to board the Emerald Glare.  The Supreme War Senator is taking over surrendering actions follow her orders explicitly.”  “Aye, Aye Captain.”  Turning my attention back to the public channel I hear a new voice talking to the captain and diplomat.  “Captain do you agree to our terms?”  “I have no choice.  I do.”  “And you diplomat do you agree?  Will you provide technical assistance to transporting the two ships to the Neptune orbit?”  The calm relaxing voice of the diplomat is strained as she replies.  “Yes, we will if there will be no other choice.  I just want you to know we will take the children and will maintain custody until the end of the war.  You need not burden yourself with these kids.”  The angry senator answer is scary.  “This is not an act of Mercy this is an act of Salvage.  They killed our next generation so until we can rebuild they will have to take our next generation.  We can make our modifications post birth.   Captain of the Inner Solar Alliance, I declare you guilty of serving with forces guilty of genocide.  The punishment is death.  You will get no trial.  One of our space marines is going to be entering your vessel soon.  He will deal out my punishment without hesitation I suggest you place your beloved children somewhere safe where they will not see what is coming.  Feel free to resist if you wish.  Transmission closed.”  I close the public channel down as my neural network lights up with information.  My orders are to preserve as much of the children as possible.  Service women are to be spared but subdued.  All men are to be killed on sight.  My memory banks are updated with the schematics of the two ships plus the life force memories.  As I reach the Emerald Glare the artificial adrenaline hikes up as my HUD goes into combat mode.  They have left the outer hatch open as an invitation.  As I float into the open space I gracefully land on the deck as the gravity field turns on.  True to the senators word they are lined up taking cover with guns drawn.  They think they are being given a fighting chance.  I was bred and engineered from birth to be a weapon and then outfitted with the most advanced personal attack equipment ever devised from the human mind.  The human mind normally runs at 6 Hz but my has been sped up to 60 Hz.  As the outer hatch closes I do not even wait for the pressure to equalize.  I am the executioner, best to get it over with.  
Using my  suit enhanced hydraulic strength and speed I charge the wall rather than  go through the door.  Smashing through the wall I find myself face to face with 5 soldiers standing by in an adjacent room.  Moving at the speed of snails I smack each one in the head with my enhanced hardened gloves.  The scene would have fit in with the most gruesome of horror movies.  With brain and blood splattered against the bulkheads I am already running out of the door before the bodies have even fallen.  Outside the door the hallway is lined with soldiers armed with guns trained on the airlock.  I waste no time going down the hallway.  For every mail I smack and for every woman I hit with stun trode.  The stun trodes are tiny electronics that induce a cascade of excited electrons through the body.  It completely fries the nervous system as the individual is immediately in a coma and the heart is in a tachycardia state.  Some individuals will die of a heart attack but most will survive.  Some of the snails  are trying to bring their guns to bear on me but I am moving to fast.  Some are even shooting each other trying to get to me.  By the time I get to the end of the hall I turn around to see a half dozen soldiers have entered from the other side and are training their rifles on me.  Lifting both arms and with lightning speed I shoot stun trodes out of my left wrist gun and kill trodes out of my right.  They actually get two shots into my center of mass  before I have all 6 down.  Of course the proximity sensors caught the rapidly approaching bullets and hardened the material right before they struck.  Quickly crossing to hall I look at the 5 males I had just shot with kill trodes.  I find it a waste to waste of life.  But I have my orders.  The only difference is that the kill trodes hit with a lot more juice instantly causing the heart to stop and quiver.  If immediately given CPR their nervous system will recover enough to return to a beating heart but I just walk away.  The next 40 minutes is the same as I go around stunning and killing.  The crying and screaming from the children somehow break through my emotionless wall.  The parents who spend their last moments loving on their children rather than fighting I spare.  The shocked look on their faces as I simply walk past makes me feel a little better about the whole ordeal.  I can imagine what a horror I must look like.  Wearing solid black flexible armor covered in blood and gore I have giant wrist cuffs that deal out death in split seconds.  I move in blindingly fast bursts.  My face is completely hidden behind my solid black helmet.  There is no glass or weak points.  As a soldier the only part that can not be replace is my brain and that is protected.  It even has its very own emergency life support function.  All vision comes from microscopic cameras that are concealed all over my suit.  I have no blind spot or weakness.  Although half of my view cameras are covered with blood and gore I am having to switch to view points I am not used to using.  As I walk over to a spare air lock to go to another ship I am shocked by a small child running over to me.  I had stunned his mom and later stunned his dad as I came back around.  “Thank you for letting my dad live.   Looking at the boy through my neural network with one of my rear cameras I am shocked by how much blood and gore is covering him.  But more shocking is the control over his emotions.  I feel an overwhelming bond with the boy.  “I know you are a person.  They may have sliced and diced and did all kinds of horrible things to you but the grown ups were wrong.  You still are a person.  I know you were ordered to kill all males and yet you let my dad live.  Thank you.”  This is the first conversation I have ever had with someone that uses lungs and no neural network.  How can he function in the silence?  “I am augmented but that doesn't change right from wrong.  What your people did was wrong.  Killing a helpless man is wrong also.  How do you know my orders.”  The boy shrugs.  “I don't know how to explain it.  I see other peoples thoughts.  They look like colors and strange smells and my mind just knows what they mean.”  As I continue on to the airlock when a thought hits me.  I quickly review my memory tapes my last view of him was of him holding his dad while weeping.  The boy speaks.  “The engineer you let live


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