From University Graduate to Soldier in an Interstellar Conflict: I Got Isekaied to an Alien World at War
This lifeform is problematic, and I’m on it as an ally! The mechanical boosters giving it intense speed across the plains of Me’blenxclan’s western region of Benul went into overdrive because of a surprise enemy attack. Much of the Gloup’s supply lines are land-based, meaning this organism’s role is to traverse from point A to B through terrestrial methods to resupply military encampments. The black, flexible micro-needles at its under-regions moving under this creature’s taffy strip frame were gaining pace. Even with this, its mouth held onto the supplies no problem.
Holding on is most important. Much of the military escort are stains on the soil, leaving me and the aerial segment as the remaining defendants. This means a bombastic fleet battle is happening above.
The Caxhels constructed a lunar base on one of this world’s seven small moons in zlax-tlloi, or roughly three days in Earth time. Said rock was uninhabited, allowing them to do so with no resistance. As their local headquarters for this planet’s conquest, it provides ample opportunities to strike, such as this moment.
Their sultry darkened warships resembled fishing hooks tilted sideways with the portion opposite to the hook as the front-facing area. The plasma-oriented weaponry proved effective against the airborne defence of bloated balloon creatures of turquoise, crimson, grey and midnight which inhabited the clouds and often let the winds take them to wherever on this world. The hole at their peaks was crucial to this, providing a sense of awareness in every battle they participated. Also, their visors gave guidance to their multi-directional propulsion machinery located at their sides and bases. Resistance to attacks is dispersed over their large surface area. And for offence, firing waste materials was their main way of halting the Caxhels from following the lifeform to its destination so they can eviscerate it from existence.
The magnetism feature in my off-white composite armour would be useless in getting proper balance to block plasma beams. So instead, the sides of my thighs parted to access the item I need. My legs and right arm involuntarily flail as I struggle to hold on. I keep at it, trying to get a fingertip to one of the pincers - the name of the combat attachment that would help a great deal.
After some serious effort in getting close, I released my grip as a plasma beam cut open the area I was just at. Even though I survived being partitioned, a screech can be heard near to me. The supply lifeform reacted with speed more immense than before. The amount of wind circumnavigating it so large - from its top to between its needles - nearly knocked me off in an instant. What saved me was taking my pincers and using my two hands to clasp and fasten the pincer in a downward position to one of my feet. I was hanging upside down by one leg.
This wasn’t its conventional use. A weapon for close quarters and long-range fighting became a foot grip – a timely one at that.
A distinct view of the two fleets devastating each other to less than half their original number came from this. Good thing I slammed my pincer into it, or else I would probably be pierced by the black needles at the southernmost areas of the supply lifeform. That would most certainly be horrible. Landing hard especially causes an awkward clash against the planet’s surface due to the kind of material comprising the armour. The fall would most likely knock me backwards into the needles. And, as I said before, being poked by them would be appalling. To live through that, while guaranteed because of its substantial durability, would prove to be costly, rendering some functions suboptimal. I would be a man seemingly riddled by a maelstrom of hostile fire and yet have to continue for the sake of the mission, exacerbating any damage sustained. The meter-long stretch of dual surface marks from the pincer’s very tip barely had an impact on the supply lifeform.
While the view of battleships falling from the sky provides a strange sense of peace, I have to get standing on the creature’s back to resume protecting it from any potential attack. The base of Porgom”a was a key area where over one hundred thousand Gloup resided. The enemy cannot reach there. To get back on top is my utmost priority, pushing me into full arm stretches with no real progress.
Striving to get back where I was stationed, the supply creature turned left. A plasma beam came close to cutting it if it didn’t take action. The change in course swayed me hard, making me want to expel my lunch.
Once that settled, I try to get up again, but this proves to be no different. Taking note of my failure, I relax my arms, letting gravity drag them down by the shoulders as I took several deep breaths to gather my thoughts.
In the middle of this impromptu exercise, I notice some towering objects becoming bigger and bigger as I get closer. They were in a hue and had the look of humongous sea waves. From those indicators, I could make an educated guess that we had arrived at the Fubof Skyscrapers. But to be frank, skyscrapers are not what these things, these parts of Me’blenxclan’s ecology, are referred to by the locals.
The prominence of any quantity of logical and reliable translations for English or Japanese, or even both, to the Gloup language, is non-existent. After ten years post-isekai and post-university, around five per cent of Gloup can be converted to English and about one per cent to Japanese through my suit’s built-in translator through years of consistent training. Prior attempts to communicate with the locals without the use of some form of technology were impossible. A human being lacks the anatomical means to speak or comprehend them. My homeland would be ashamed… if I still believed I could return home. Then, it might have actually stung. Having a discussion with them using one of the other languages I learned during my years of education on Earth, to less proficiency and commitment unlike English, like Latin and French, felt dreadful.
At another time, I could train my translator to know the proper name in Japanese and English. Would be useful considering we were about to execute the plan to ambush the Caxhels right about… now. The frozen waves of surface sludge - some over one hundred and fifty metres tall - which holds the flawed title of Fubof Skyscrapers, shocked the invading force with the appearance of many sixteen-slot stilt-mounted artillery at all parts of each frozen wave, which were tripped by sensors.
Straining my neck to look up, I see three ships remaining: an aquamarine from the Gloup, and two, damaged but functional, at the Caxhels’ lower portions. With this signal, they let off their cocoon ammunition, destroying one of the Caxhel ships in haste. The other decided to fire what’s left before turning to escape. I heard three explosions. From that, I could assume three were hit. The bloated Gloup ship let the final Caxhel craft get away. It seems it had nothing more to fire off.
Once the enemy blasted itself into the distance, the supply creature stopped. With the many needles at its bottom, it decelerated with no inertia. I took this chance to call for my pincer without fear of being out of commission for the operation, freeing me to make a big PLAT! without worries. Long unbothered to sludge on any part of me, I got up eager to finish the Caxhel pilot. The supply lifeform appeared next to my side, surprising me a bit.
I then began to walk to the site, where the creature followed in stride. Bringing out my other pincer, I commanded them to tear through the ship. This version was of the smaller, nimbler kind – perfect for keeping up with one of, if not the fastest beings in this world. It is said it can cross the planet in what is ten Earth minutes, or diup-nosxec in Me’blenxclan time.
Entering through a broken section of the ship, I activated the body luminescence feature to guide us to the ‘lockstep area’ with basically no confusion by following the straight and narrow path, in which straight and narrow were two general physical aspects of the enemy force. There wasn’t much to talk about in regards to the corridor leading to the Caxhel soldier. It was when we arrived in the lockstep area is where it became interesting.
A smorgasbord of wires with lights, big and small, all connected to a mould where the Caxhel nestled itself in the centre of a wall that went to as far as one could see. To operate a Caxhel warship, the pilot in question must be able to take the form of said mould reminiscent of the shape of the ship in question. If unable to do so, they are unable to fly. This is how I came up with the name ‘lockstep area’ for what is essentially the cockpit in any other aerial vehicle. But, If I’m being fair, it’s not the best name. Next time, I should try harder to give it a sleeker title. This is what I get for applying labels to things I don’t know the name of due to not having a grasp of the word required for me to place in my vocabulary log. I waste no time to yank it from its space and pulled on its serpentine nature minus any face, openings, or scales, until its midsection was tearing apart. With it wriggling in my hands, I decided to finish it in one tug, throwing both halves behind me where aggressive tapping went for a few moments.
Utilizing my suit’s HUD, I am able to detect an easily moveable slab, and with a push it falls to a THUD!, leading us back outside.
As we left with the scraps of the Caxhel’s remains between the supply creature’s micro needles and within the ship itself, it said, with the supplies in its mouth held tight, “Offuds outsssbhv me addhfas next time."
I wonder where that came from. It caught me off-guard by understanding even a smidge of his tongue knowing that many species here prefer to not use the lingua franca. Despite using some brainpower to figure out how I could possibly understand a word it’s saying, even though I haven’t bothered to translate his native language. But I swiftly give up and decide to leave it for another time.