A Day in the Life of Marine Captain Cross before the Zoastra Part Four
Captain Cross reported to his station on the flight deck, while the entire crew took battle formation―signaling to the crew that attack seemed imminent. Space battles worked differently than any other experience on Earth, and most people never experienced even simple battles. In space, working as a team was the only way of succeeding.
Cross turned every weapon on in the arsenal and waited for orders from Brigadier General Aurelius.
“Return the women to our ship,” Aurelius barked to the three-dimensional holograms showing on his screen deck. “And we avoid something your emperor will not want started.”
“Is that a threat?” the grayish-black alien slurred.
“We don’t make threats.”
To Cross, the Tyrians looked like walking bats, with human faces and beady eyes. No wings, but the idea of a flying rat made sense to Cross. And the small, glittering eyes made them look slippery and wiry.
But the adornment of their clothes also signaled a sense of pride. Whoever the aliens claimed to be, Cross saw them. They didn’t think much of the human race or the ship. But their arrogance was also a weapon to be utilized.
Cross cocked his subatomic handgun, itching to fire into space. Children on Earth played with similar remote controls most of their lives, so the controller of the weapons worked like a second thumb. But on earth the games were fun. In space, life never worked out as a game. No princesses to save existed. And if they did, they were more trouble than they were worth…at least to Cross.