Page 11 of Claimed By the Alien Assassin
I climb a narrow stairwell that reeks of mold and desperation, boots scuffing against warped plasteel steps. My door is the second on the left, patched with an old IHC sticker that someone’s scribbled out with black marker.Diplomacy is dead, it reads now.
Apt.
Inside, the room is barely wider than my outstretched arms, and the bed’s a creaking slab of something that might’ve been foam two decades ago. One wall flickers with a malfunctioning holo-window trying and failing to display a scenic moonscape. I slam the door shut behind me and throw the bolt. Not because it’ll stop anything, but because it feels like control. Like drawing a line in the filth.
I drop into the cracked chair in front of the small terminal I managed to coax back into working order last night. My fingers dance across the interface, booting it up with a custom bypass I wrote on my compad. The system hums reluctantly to life.
Come on. Come on.
The IHC comms relay connects with all the enthusiasm of a dead slug, the screen flickering before stabilizing into that too-clean, sterile blue logo that makes my stomach churn.
“Interplanetary Human Coalition Outreach—please input your authorization key.”
I do.
“Snowblossom Colony distress relay acknowledged. Your case number is 8472-XK. Please wait for a representative.”
I lean back, eyes on the ceiling, where some kind of bulb pulses like a lazy heartbeat behind its grimy cover.
A full minute passes.
Then five.
Then the screen blinks, and a face appears.
She’s IHC, all right. Perfect skin, neutral uniform, hair tied back in a bun that hasn’t moved in a decade. Her voice is smoother than synthsilk, and I hate it before she says a word.
“Colonist McClintock, we received your transmission. Thank you for your patience.”
“Don’t thank me,” I snap. “Just tell me help is coming.”
She blinks, just once. “We are currently pursuing a diplomatic solution with the Vortaxian envoy. Alliance leadership believes?—”
“Theyinvadedus.” My voice cracks. “They landed a capital ship in our sky like it was theirs, declared us property, and told us to get used to it. You want tonegotiatewith that?”
The woman’s expression doesn’t shift. Not even a tremor.
“There have been no confirmed casualties.”
“Yet!”
She sighs. “We sympathize, truly. But the IHC must weigh all variables. Snowblossom is… resource-rich, but strategically isolated. A military engagement risks destabilizing talks across the sector.”
I stare at her, trying to make my brain understand.
“Ten thousand people live there,” I whisper. “My family. My friends. We built that colony from prefab and blood. And you’re telling me it’s not worthwar?”
A pause.
“I’m telling you diplomacy must be allowed to work.”
My knuckles go white on the desk. My other hand hovers above the terminal. Just one push, and I could break the screen. Shatter it. Maybe scream.
Instead, I breathe.
“You’re cowards,” I say. “And when the Vortaxians start using our mineral payloads to build weapons, don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.”
The comm flickers. She’s already ending the call.
