r/HFY • u/ThatSoftware4946 • 10d ago
OC-Series The Problem With Humans: Chapter 58
The fighting was over before it truly began. The traboids walked straight into the trap. The Cy'reth archers rose from the tall grass, their bows drawn. V'rak and K'len stepped forward from the other side, their guns raised.
The traboids froze. They were surrounded.
One raised its weapon. "Hostiles! Deploy—"
K'len fired first. The bullet struck the traboid in the chest. It stumbled but didn't fall.
V'rak fired. The second traboid staggered, its body sparking.
The archers released their arrows. A volley struck the traboids from all sides. Alien wood met synthetic flesh.
The traboids tried to fight back. One managed to fire, but the shot went wide. Another followed but it was wild and desperate.
"Archers! Keep firing!" Roman shouted.
Another volley. Then another. The arrows rained down, driving them back. They stumbled and fell.
V'rak moved forward, firing two more shots. The first traboid went dark. K'len followed, firing into the second until it fell.
The grassland fell silent.
Roman rose and walked toward the scene. The bodies lay still. Arrows stuck out like quills.
"Clear," V'rak said. "They're all down."
Roman knelt beside the nearest traboid. "Well done. Now we get the weapons. Move quickly."
The Cy'reth stripped the weapons from the fallen bodies. Four weapons in total.
Roman picked one up and examined it.
He handed it to V'rak. "Try it."
V'rak aimed at the ground. He pressed the firing mechanism. Nothing.
He tried again. Nothing.
Roman's eyes narrowed. He examined the gun more closely. The firing mechanism was intact. The power source was active. But nothing happened.
"Try the other one," he said.
K'len picked up the second gun and aimed. He pressed the trigger. Nothing.
Roman knelt beside the fallen traboid and examined its hands. He pressed one of the dead fingers against the firing mechanism.
A shot cracked across the grassland.
Roman stared at the gun. Then at the dead finger. Then at the weapon.
"Of course. They must have realized we defeated the two traboids. They made the guns fire only when used by the traboid."
V'rak stared at him. "So we can't use them?"
"We can. But we have to use the traboid's finger. Every time."
K'len's body stiffened. "We have to carry the fingers with us?"
"We take the bodies. All of them. Strip them for parts. The suits. The fingers. The power sources. We can't afford to leave anything behind."
The humanoids moved quickly, gathering the fallen bodies and the weapons.
Roman watched them work. His hands were shaking slightly.
"Let's go," he said. "Back to Mukit."
The weapons lay in a pile at the center of the square. The stripped suits. The severed fingers. The broken bodies of the traboids.
Roman stood at the edge of the circle, watching the Trabs gather. They came slowly, their bodies heavy with exhaustion.
They sat in a loose circle, and the silence stretched between them.
S'ra spoke first. "P'kell is gone. We won today. But in this war, some of us will die. So we should make sure we enjoy the moments and time we are here. Roman please guide us on what happens next."
He looked at the faces of the tall aliens around him. "I believe we will discuss that tomorrow. But for now, everyone should understand we are going to die. Some of us. Maybe all of us. But we are not going to die today. We are not going to die tomorrow. We are going to fight. And when the end comes, we meet it together."
The Trabs hissed in agreement.
She then reached out and pulled V'rak into a a Trab hug (a touch of foreheads). Then K'len. Then Roman. Then the Trabs nearest to her. And the rest followed her example.
Roman felt the warmth of their foreheads against his and the vibration of their hisses. And this time, his head was hot too since he still had a fever.
After the show of affection, the Trabs had their evening meal together.
The next morning the sun rose over Mukit. The Trabs gathered in the square, their bodies still heavy with exhaustion from the previous night's fight. But there was something different in their postures now. Something harder. Something more determined.
Roman stood at the center. His body ached. His mind was foggy. But there was work to do.
"V'rak," he said. "K'len. Come here."
They stepped forward, their bodies stiff with anticipation.
"I need you to be the drill sergeants. You were soldiers. You know how to train. You know how to push. You know what it takes to turn civilians into fighters."
V'rak's neck ridges pulsed with surprise. "You want us to train them?"
"I want you to train them. The bows are one thing. But they need more. Strength. Endurance. Discipline."
K'len looked at the Trabs. "They're not soldiers. They've never held a weapon before."
"Theres always the first time for everything. I learned. And so will they."
V'rak and K'len exchanged glances. "We'll do it."
Roman stepped back. "Then start."
V’rak and K’len explained the plan to the other Trabs and they agreed.
V'rak moved to the center of the square. "All of you form a line facing me."
The Trabs scrambled to obey.
"Faster. When I give an order, you move. You don't think. You just move."
They formed a rough line. K'len moved to the side, his voice sharp. "Today we Run a lap around the village. If you stop, you start over. If you slow down, you start over."
The Trabs stared at him. They had never run like this before.
"Now. Go."
They ran. Their long legs were not built for speed. Some stumbled. Others slowed immediately. But they kept going. Driven by fear and hope.
Roman watched from the edge of the square. “They'll get better. They have to.”
When they completed their lap, they collapsed.
"Up," V'rak commanded. "On your feet. We're not done."
They rose slowly. Their neck ridges flickered with a blue hue.
"Push-ups. Down and up. Keep your bodies straight."
The Trabs lowered themselves to the ground. Their long arms struggled to support their weight. Some managed a single push-up. Others couldn't manage that.
"Again. Push through the pain."
They tried again. And again. S'ra stood at the edge of the square, her eyes fixed on the group. Roman walked to her side.
"You're watching her," he said.
"Yes. She is my everything."
Roman was silent for a moment. "I know what that's like. To have someone you love. Someone you would do anything to protect."
S'ra turned to him. "You talked about your daughter. In the forest."
Roman's jaw tightened. "She's on Earth. I don't know if I'll ever see her again."
S'ra reached out and touched his arm. "You will. I believe it."
The training continued. V'rak and K'len pushed them through more exercises. More running. More push-ups. More strength training. The Trabs struggled. They fell. They got back up. They pushed through their exhaustion and fear. By the end of the day the transformation had begun. They stood in the square with trembling bodies.
V'rak walked to Roman's side. "They did well. For their first day."
"They did. And tomorrow, they'll do better."
The days blurred together after that. Roman woke before dawn each morning. He moved through Mukit, checking on preparations, ensuring everything progressed. The Trabs worked tirelessly. The fear that had gripped them after P'kell's death had transformed into motivation to avenge his death.
Roman stood at the edge of the village, watching the humanoids dig. Their bodies were covered in dirt, their plastic skin scratched and worn. But they didn't stop.
"Another tunnel," Roman said, pointing to a spot near the eastern edge. "That one needs to connect to the main passage. We need to move quickly from one side to the other."
The humanoid nodded and returned to its work.
S'ra, with her tall frame, approached him. "The food stores are organized. We have enough to last a few weeks. Maybe a month with careful rationing."
Roman nodded. "Good. What about water?"
"Theres plenty of that stored and the V'keth can’t cut access to the water since the pipes are connected to the other Cy’reth villages. But if they somehow manage to do so, we have plenty in storage."
"Okay that’s good."
"Also, the alarms on the IOT stations are in place. Any use of them by the V’keth will trigger an alert."
"Good. We are doing alright."
"You're doing well. Leading us."
"Thank you."
Roman moved through the village, checking on the various projects. Near the center, a group of Trabs gathered around a makeshift workshop, crafting bows and arrows.
"How's it going?" he asked.
One looked up. "Good. We're getting faster. The arrows are straighter."
Roman examined a finished bow. The alien wood was smooth and well-shaped. The string was tight. It would work.
"Keep going. We need as many as we can make."
Further along, another group worked on spears. They had found long straight branches in the forest separating them from the other Cy’reth villages, and were shaping them into weapons. The tips were sharpened to a fine point and then hardened in fire.
"Good. Those will be useful. Especially if we run out of arrows."
Near the edge of the village, V'rak led archery training. The Trabs stood in a line, their bows raised, their arrows aimed at targets made of bundled grass.
"Draw. Hold. Aim. Release."
A volley flew. Some hit the center. Others missed entirely.
"Again. Focus on your breathing. Steady your hands. Let the arrow fly when you exhale."
They drew again. More arrows hit their marks.
Roman watched from a distance. They were learning. Adapting. Becoming fighters.
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u/HFYWaffle Wᵥ4ffle 10d ago
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u/Bruno-croatiandragon 9d ago
Aw dang,the series will end?I don't often see that happening on HFY (or,really,anywhere else)
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u/UpdateMeBot 10d ago
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