Aliens Loved Humans Military Tanks So Much, They Built Their Own | Best HFY Story

I still remember when I first laid eyes on the Zeno Scout ship it had shimmered into existence like a mirage in the Utah desert all smooth curves and glowing nodes not the sort of thing you expect on your daily commute as an army tanker me I was staff sergeant Danny juk Miller lead Gunner for a lumbering M1 A2 Abrams tank we nicknamed Betsy Betsy was a good old girl bulky loud and packing a mean punch but looking at that Sleek impossible craft it made me feel like we were in a hor drawn marage facing off against a Bugatti news had spread like wildfire aliens everyone was equal parts terrified and exhilarated like kids on Christmas Eve mixed with watching a horror movie us tankers we were told to stand by to prep Betsy and to fuel up the higher ups were buzzing probably scrambling to figure out if these Zeno folks came in peace or with a side order of Intergalactic Invasion my crew Jonesy Mack and Ortiz were a tight Bunch Jonesy his soul was a walking Encyclopedia of sci-fi movies and ready to quote his way through an apocalypse Mac was the loader built like a bear with nerves of Steel Ortiz was our driver calm as a lake even with the world crashing down we all knew in our guts it wasn't going to be a friendly meet and greet out on that Dusty plane when the Zeno ambassadors exited the ship I got to say we were flued they looked like bipedal jellyfish with too many eyes and tendrils Galore I don't think they had a concept of personal space those tendril were everywhere it's hard to look intimidating when you resemble a glowy seop pod negotiations if you could call him that went sideways fast all chirs flashing lights and some seriously pungent smells courtesy of the Zeno nobody understood a word and those tendrils made everyone Twitchy you know how sometimes the tension in the air is so thick you could bounce a quarter off it that was the moment hanging like a fat raindrop about to burst then that jellyfish looking leader started gesturing all around at the base at us and most importantly at Betsy Mack and Jonesy started translating Zeno sign language on the Fly the panicked look on their faces a bad Omen if I ever saw one turns out Mr Jello was scoffing at our primitive Weaponry well that lit a fire under my backside these Cosmic snobs probably hadn't seen a real war the kind fought in trenches and streets the kind where the tech might be old school but the determination was pure steel us tankers we were used to people underestimating us sneering at bulky Betsy with her old-fashioned Cannon and armor but they'd not seen what she could do Jonesy started muttering about how Zeno Warfare was likely based on energy blasts Precision lasers and maybe even funky mind control stuff the higher ups chewed on that and then came to the most Buck Wild decision I'd ever heard we were to take Betsy out there and show these aliens what kind of fight a good old hunk of American Metal could give my order give him a demonstration make it flashy Make It Count see bety for all her looks isn't just about Brute Force she's got the brains too I slid into my Gunner's seat feeling a mix of Pride and oh God what am I doing Jitters Ortiz powered her up the engine roaring to life like a defiant Beast letun give him a welcome they won't forget boys I said grinning despite the sweat pricking my brow the higher ups marked out some targets first up a rusted out truck at long range I lined up the crosshairs adjusted for wind breathed out and squeezed the trick the cannon boomed The Recoil rocking us all and that truck disappeared in a cloud of fire and Twisted Metal the Zeno delegation jumped their glow pulsed like a disco ball and chirping Rose to a fever pitch I heard Jonesy whoop with Glee good we got there attention next they wanted a show of speed and maneuverability orti pushed Betsy into that dance only a 60-ton tank can do pivoting roaring across the dusty field kicking up enough sand to make even a camel cough w teas was weaving Mack was loading as fast as he could fire on the move I bked boom a boulder reduced to dust Boom the remains of a bunker vaporized boom a hole punched clean through a concrete barrier the Zeno were twitching their tendrils so much that I was half expecting them to take flight the grand finale though the good old boys back at the Pentagon had the bright idea of setting up three toad cars Betsy roared past them me swiveling the turret at the speed of light boom boom boom those cars were nothing but scrap before those glowing jellyfish could blink we rolled back to our line engines rumbling Betsy might have been Dusty leaking a bit of hydraulic fluid and stinking like gunpowder but damn she'd put on a show Jonesy managed to decipher some of the Zeno sarking they were rattled good maybe they'd think twice before dismissing our primitive ways the Zeno vanished back into their fancy ship as fast as they had appeared the whole base breathed a collective sigh of relief us well we got busy cleaning Betsy swapping stories and trying to downplay the fact that we'd almost been test subjects in some alien war game turned out it was just the beginning news came Weeks Later the Zeno was setting up their own Outpost a sleep research base not 100 miles from us then came the bombshell nobody saw coming they were building their own tanks word was they' scanned Betsy inside and out probably picking apart her every sensor and computer chip they aimed to beat us at our own game folks called it an arms race with added tentacles I wasn't surprised just a little ticked if the Zeno thought they could wal in here and outdo our Betsy they needed a dose of reality we had generations of sweat and Ingenuity built into those steel bones a fighting Spirit you couldn't replicate in a lab sure their tanks were marvels of tech from the rumors we heard Shields that shimmered like soap bubbles targeting systems that could pinpoint a fly on Mars but they were also untested built by beings who' never for a real down in the dirt wall the day rolled around when we finally faced those zeni Creations mock battle out in the same Dusty stretch of desert generals from both sides observing like this was a football game I was back in my Gunner's seat Jonesy beside me Whispering tactical gibberish and mac and Ortiz as ready as they ever were I'll admit my hands were a touch clammy despite the bravado I was putting on for the crew those Zeno tanks were Eerie they floated above the sand no Treads or wheels just glowing humming in a way that set your teeth on edge they looked less like war machines more like Angry armored clouds fancy as hell but I had a hunch fancy wouldn't always win the day the mock battle kicked off with all the subtlety of a fireworks show in a dynamite Factory the Zeno tanks Unleashed their first volley not shells or missiles but beams of superheated plasma that sliced through the air like Angry lasers we dodged Betsy bucking with a force of near misses the smell of ozone sharp in the air Shields at 80% ma shouted Betsy's energy Shields an upgrade courtesy of back room Engineers working triple shifts were holding but for how long it was just a damn light show so far my command crackled over the Cals engage at will Miller show them what you got with pleasure sir I barked The Familiar Thrill of the hunt replacing those first fight Jitters this wasn't a demonstration anymore this was war the Zeno used to their fancy energy weapons hadn't expected our return f fire see Betsy might be old school but she'd been packing experimental depleted uranium rounds each shell was a bunker Buster designed to punch through just about anything the first tank H that present and Reed its Shield shimmering then sputtering out like an overloaded circuit the other xenoid tanks buzzed into an unfamiliar frenzy their lasers painting the sky around us we jined and jived like we were in a damn ballet M cursing a Blue Streak as he loaded round after round I fired as fast as I could every blast making Betsy shutter in my hands my shots didn't just take out Shields they left holes big ones armor on those Zeno toys was about as useful as tin foil against a blowtorch Jonesy the Sci-Fi nut was hollering something about magnetic Containment Breach and secondary explosions translation we were blowing up their fancy overly complicated tanks with good oldfashioned Firepower the glow of the battlefield shifted from iridescent blue to a satisfying so orange the Zeno formations broke scattering like startled mice here's the thing about tech Warfare when your fancy gadgets fail you're left exposed and scrambling Panic radiated off them clear as day even without sarking translators us tankers we thrived in chaos we hunted them down not to end them not yet this was about demonstrating what happens when you mess with humans on their home turf we cornered each tank blasting their weapons pods clean off their floaty platforms then we just waited did made them sit there shimmering and defenseless their glow pulsing with a whole new kind of fear the message was clear as the desert sky you may have Tech but we have guts when the order came to withdraw Betsy proudly sported a few Scorch marks and a malfunctioning sensor array she taken a kicking but so had the enemy as we limped back to base batted and grinning like jackals I knew this wasn't over not by a long shot this was just the first round in a whole new kind of war the Bas erupted in cheers when we rolled in generals were slapping our backs mechanics were swarming Betsy to patch her wounds and somewhere in a bunker I imagine Zeno scientists were tearing their glowy hair out the after action reports were full of words like unforeseen variables and reassessment of tactical Doctrine Das fancy ways of saying the aliens got their slimy backsides handed to them news of our Victory spread like wildfire humans everywhere who' been staring wide died at the prospect of Alien Invasion puffed out their chests a bit we hadn't just held our own we'd Come Out Swinging and rattled the Invaders good and proper they'd learned a valuable lesson don't underestimate the scrappy species with the bulky tanks the arms race was well and truly on our Engineers were reverse engineering captured Zeno Tech while they I'm sure were dissecting Betsy down to her last bolt It Was a Race about more than just Firepower and shields though it was a race in understanding a whole new way of thinking about war for me and my crew it meant training 10 times harder we studied Zeno tactics analyzed their strengths and drilled until those movements were burned into our subconscious we pushed Betsy to her limits practiced shooting and maneuvering on terrain that would have made a mountain goat think twice we were the spearhead the first line of defense in case these glowing jellyfish ever got any braver Jonesy between spouting doomsday scenarios theorized that the Zeno had lived in peace for so long they'd forgotten how to fight dirty Mack always the realist just grunted something about Pride being as dangerous a weapon as any laser can Ortiz the calm eye in our storm reminded us that fear was our enemy too fear of the unknown fear of their strange Tech fear of defeat it was a reminder that echoed louder with each passing night where I'd stare at the stars and wondered just how many other civilizations might be out there Betsy underwent an overhaul new armor plating reactive defense systems nicked from Zeno designs and an upgraded targeting system that frankly made my Gunner seat feel like I was in a spaceship myself she was a beast all right a Frankenstein of old school muscle and Cutting Edge Tech and then the cool came the Zeno had mastered their Outpost their tank numbers tripled their ships thrumming ominously in the sky there was no more dancing around this was it War the final stand had the Grim beauty of a hurricane at dusk the desert was our Battlefield the wind whipping up sand that stunned our eyes but couldn't outshine the ominous glow of the Zeno horde they'd learned adapted and now their tanks were leaner faster pul ING with that unsettling light this time there was a cold calculation to their movement a hunger that was missing in the mock battle I was back in Betsy's Gunner seat The Familiar vibrations of her engine a Counterpoint to the pounding of my heart Jonesy bless him had finally run out of sci-fi movie quotes and was muttering a prayer under his breath Max's hands moved like lightning over the loader and Ortiz well he had that same quiet determination that always seemed to ground the rest of us out there stretched as far as the eye could see was the new face of War a battalion of upgraded tanks Salvage Zeno Tech jury rigged into gleaming monstrosities and the cold Sleek lines of the enemy armor shimmering in response the order echoed through my headset clipped and brutal hold the line at all costs by time for the rest of Humanity's Cobble together forces to Rally that meant we were the sacrificial Lambs the ones meant to be ground into the dust so others might live never thought I'd sign up for that but hey nether did most of the guys who'd stormed the beaches at Normandy the first wave crashed against us in a tsunami of light and metal this wasn't about fancy tricks anymore just kill or be killed my targeting system was spitting out options faster than I could process them Mac loaded one experimental rounde after another the stench of cordite and chemicals heavy in our enclosed space Betsy roared her Cannon spitting fire and fury we hit them hard those first lines shattering like glass but they kept coming the new xenoid tanks were more than just upgrades they were adapting their Shields flared with unfamiliar patterns lasers deflecting off our armor at weird angles it was like fighting a swarm of angry bees that kept learning new stings for every three Zeno tanks we took down one of ours was reduced to burning scrap we fell back not in a route but a controlled dance of violence trading Firepower for distance their ship swooped down not the Sleek Scout we first saw but monstrous things bristling with weapons beams like molten sunlight carved into the sand vaporizing a tank from our second line their screams echoing over CS before cutting to Dead Silence that's when the plot Twisted so hard I swear I saw Stars our top brass all their fancy tactics and back room Tech finally unleash their trump card it wasn't a super weapon or some genius strategy it was desperation in its purest form disengage from the main Force Target the biggest ship crackled the order Madness pure and filtered Madness attack their Mothership with what our tanks this wasn't a Space Opera damn it but here's the thing about tankers we used to following suicidal orders we'd held the line until our bodies were bruised our ears ringing and half our comrades were Battlefield ghosts now we were told to break formation to become a rogue pack of predators leaving the rest of the fight behind Ortiz punched Betsy into a gear that shouldn't exist for a vehicle her size we bounced and roared through the Carnage M loading and me firing like there was no tomorrow because maybe there wasn't our CS were filled with a panic chatter of other tanks some following orders most getting cut off mids sentence I got glimpses of the main battle our upgraded beasts were holding their own flashes of plasma and the acrid bite of tank fire filling the air but it was a losing battle Wars of attrition are brutal like that then it loomed up from The Horizon the Zeno mother ship a monstrosity of chrome and pulsing lights dwarfing anything they'd shown us before my brain fumbled the math we were answer going against a skyscraper armed with a billion laser cannons Jonesy voice cracking quoted some poet about tilting at windmills I just gritted my teeth and started mapping firing Solutions as if this Behemoth was just a slightly bigger moving Target our first shots pinged off their Shields uselessly I adjusted for angle for the insane speed we were going for sheer desperate hope ma loaded a shell with such Force the tank wind in protest the blast wasn't a clean hit it clipped the shield just right sending a Cascade of Sparks across the ship's surface then the impossible happened the ship shuddered not just from the impact but something systemwide its glow flickered whole sections dimming it began to list ever so slightly we hurt it Jonesy's cry was half Triumph half Terror they were turning their full attention to us now turret swiveled with unnatural speed blinding beams lanced our way we dodged at the last second Betsy pivoting like a ballerina with a bad attitude ude we were buying time not just for the others but for something no one had predicted the Zeno all their focus on us had made a fatal miscalculation one they'd been subconsciously making since the day they landed with their fancy tanks and underestimated our stubborn battle Harden spirit because he is the twist that those glowing jellyfish never saw coming humans aren't just a species we're an ecosystem the sky above the Mother Ship walked shimmering with not Zeno Tech but something else still stealth Fighters jury rigged for space a last ditch swarm born from some crazy Engineers fever dream they were impossible ridiculous and oh so gloriously human in their Defiance we laid down covering fire drawing the ships attention as those Fighters screamed in unleashing missiles at Point Blank Range the Mother Ship his Shields wonky from our attack buckled explosions rippled along its length not just blasts but detonations from within we'd opened a door and the Swarm poured through it the ship fell not gracefully but with a Titanic groan of dying metal that echoed across the desert it crashed in a fireball that lit up the Twilight we didn't win the war that day far from it but the Zeno Advance was stalled their moral shattered and somewhere out in the void those kamakazi Pilots were immortalized in every history book and every solders orru whisper because that's what US humans do see we fight we adapt we jury rig The Impossible and sometimes we surprise even ourselves Victory when it finally came tasted like desert sand and burnt metal it wasn't the clean flag waving Triumph of the movies instead it felt messy raw and paid for in a currency the Zeno didn't understand sacrifice the aftermath was a tangle of broken bodies shattered machines and the echoing Silence of a battlefield gone quiet us tankers weren't built for the cleanup Medics buzzed around the wounded Engineers descended on our smoking wrecks with a grim efficiency and the high-ups looked haunted even in the pale glow of their salvaged Zeno Tech Betsy was a wreck sporting craters and Scorch marks like some monstrous War medal she' need more than a quick patch-up she'd earned a retirement if those ever existed for tanks I stood outside her battered hole The Sting of chemical burns on my arms a dull ache compared to the holess in my chest Jonesy bless him appeared at my side with a canteen of water that probably tasted like motor oil we didn't speak for a while just listened to the desert wind that carried the faint iron scent of spilled blood we won he said finally voice horse did we I counted the question hanging between us it was more than just the casualty count more than the burnt out husks that lited the Horizon the Zeno were rooted for now pushed back to lick their wounds and rethink their strategy but they hadn't vanished their Outpost still shimmered under the alien Sun their presence was a scar on our world a constant reminder that peace was a fragile temporary thing the war wasn't just about tanks versus lasers anymore it had mutated Twisted into a tangled Clash of civilizations mindsets and the Relentless drive for survival we held the front lines but behind them scientists were dissecting the Zeno war machines alongside philosophers trying to decipher their language and motivations it was like a whole new world had crash landed on top of ours and we were scrambling to make sense of it all the bond between my crew Titan during those grueling months tankers live and die together in the confined metal belly of a beast like Betsy you learn to depend on each other like parts of a machine or else you get crushed in the gears we were each other's anchors in a sea of Madness Mack always the realist took to studying Zeno Tech with the gruff focus of someone determined to outsmart an existential threat Jonesy became an expert in their Battlefield tactics pouring over after action reports to predict their next moves when he couldn't sleep he'd write sci-fi stories even darker more desperate than before with us as the flawed Heroes of his makeshift Tales or teas ever the calm one surprised us all he'd sit cross-legged and meditate by the ruined tanks for hours eyes closed against the harsh desert light sometimes I'd catch fragments of prayer not in any language I recognized a strange Symphony of Whispers and inhaled breaths it was his way I guess of dealing with the Echoes of the battlefield that clung to us all as for me I found myself drawn to the Zeno prisoners they weren't the glowing monstrous figures of our initial encounter stripped of their Tech weapons they were unsettlingly fragile bioluminescent skin too many eyes in Hollow faces movements hesitant in Earth gravity they reminded me of deep sea creatures brought to the surface too quickly gasping in an environment their bodies weren't made for one evening I approached the makeshift p camp the guards eyed me bristling at the sight of a tanker so close to their charges humans and Zeno still wey Predators separated by Thin layers of tension and hastily arranged truce agreements my focus fell on one particular Zeno it was hunched away from its fellows a thin Shimmer of its glow pulsing in irregular rhythms fear or sickness I couldn't tell its tendrils twitched making patterns in the sand I instinctively tried to decipher they don't have individuals the way we do a voice murmured at my side it was one of the scientists a linguist named Dr Lynn she' spent sleepless nights hunched over Zeno km's chatter her face etched in a permanent frown of concentration what do you mean I asked no names no sense of self the way we understand it there a network a colony mind with specialized roles this one she gestured towards the huddled Zeno it might be the equivalent of a scout or a sensor drone something about her words sparked an almost painful understanding these weren't just our enemies not just some faceless force of invasion they were fragments of a greater Consciousness pieces unable to fully comprehend our Strange individuality the chaotic Beauty and violence of a world teaming with selves you think they feel alone I asked the question hanging in the dry air Dr Lynn just Shrugged her eyes Bleak maybe that's the key maybe it's not about who has the bigger gun but about who understands who they're fighting that night I dreamt of Tanks rolling across a vast featureless plane but in the Gunner's seat wasn't me it was a creature of Shifting light and Whispering Echoes facing down not another tank but a mirror reflecting it own fractured form I woke with a jolt sweat beating on my brow the image clinging to me like a haunting Melody the war dragged on its Rhythm changing from the desperate scrambles of those early days to a slower more brutal grind we tankers held the lines fought the skirmishes and buried far too many of our comrades and with each battle each tense Sunrise shared with my crew I came to oblique realization this war wouldn't end in a grand surrender or a treaty signed in Blood and hope it would end the way things between aliens species often do with only one left standing the years turned into this gritty blur of skirmishes and stalemates Innovation and exhaustion we gained ground then lost it a bloody dance where each step forward was paid for in lives and scars that ran deeper than any wound turns out humans were adaptable stubbornly tenacious but so with the Zeno every Clash of Wills pushed both sides to learn to evolve to find new and terrifying ways to wage war the battlefield transformed our tanks those once for familiar beasts morphed into nightmares of Salvage Zeno Tech we rolled out with pulsating energy Shields that shimmered an unsettling blue cannons that spit not just fire but blast tuned to punch through their weird armor in turn their tanks evolv from sleep Predators into shimmering fortresses armed with weapons that seem to defy physics Jonesy became our tactical expert a profet of Zeno battle plans his mind a twisted hybrid of earthborne strategy and whatever passed for cunning in that Collective consciousness of their enemy Mack once the stoic loader became a mad tinkerer fusing our tank Tech with theirs building monstrosities that made even Harden commanders blanch as for Ortiz his meditation turned into something else entirely they built him a lab a quiet Corner away from the Roaring front lines where he spent hours interfacing Salvage Zeno systems with himself at first the sight of him wired in those glowing tendrils attached to his temples filled me with a primal dread but then he proved his purpose Ortiz became an oracle of the battlefield feeling Ripple of intent from the Zeno forces anticipating their strikes before they were formed we tankers may have been the fist but he was The Uncanny Instinct that guided the blow despite our gains despite the sacrifices an oppressive dread norded us all the Zeno weren't just adapting to our tactics they were adapting to us they analyzed our Command structures targeting our officers they learned the patterns of our communication networks leaving us blind and deaf In the Heat of battle it was like fighting something that grew smarter more Insidious not with every battle but with every breath we took then came The Whispers we called them that not knowing what else fit the cold Terror that descended Upon Us Zeno pics their scientists finally weaponizing that fractured hive mind it wasn't just calms going haywire it was thought slipping from their minds into ours fragments of alien Concepts flashes of grotesque strategies designed to shatter human sanity itself some tankers just broke not from the battlefield but from a single echoing thought burrowing into their skulls after one particularly vicious attack I held Mack who was sobbing into his scorched hands Whispering about the eyes the uncountable eyes that watched him from within the darkness of his own mind took four Medics and enough sedatives to knock out a rhino to ease his suffering word of The Whispers spread fear became the enemy's most potent weapon sleepless nights haunted eyes and that paranoia the constant chilling question of whether the order bked into your headset was truly from your own Commander or something far more Sinister my crew we held each other together with a ragged determination born of too many shared nightmares but the front lines cracked buckled and sometimes fell back entirely our gains turned into Ash our victories tainted by that cold sweat of knowing the Zeno weren't just trying to defeat us they were trying to unmake us then came a mission so Bleak so utterly insane that it might have been the breaking point or our last Twisted chance we were called back not a base but a sprawling makeshift research complex tucked into an unremarkable mountain range it rre of desperation and that special brand of scientific Madness born out of War inside past the armed guards and sterile corridors waited Dr Lynn her eyes hollowed by too many sleepless nights and a general I'd never seen before a man with the haunted look of someone who'd stared into an abyss and decided to stare back their grand plan laid out before me on flickering screens filled with incomprehensible Zeno schematics was the epitome of human Defiance or uicide maybe both we going to hijack their hive mind the general rasped his voice a rusty echo in the room the silence that followed was a living breathing thing I think even Jonesy after all his doomsday predictions was struck speechless Ortiz just closed his eyes his face a mask of strained meditation Lynn's team has isolated the signal the general continued gesturing towards the screen it's the key to their coordination their tactics everything orti here he looked at our resident Oracle with a grim sort of pity he's going in they planed to turn Ortiz into a psychic bomb feed him into their Network Into the Heart of that grotesque web of alien thought his mind honed by years of forced interface with Zeno Tech fueled by the fear born potential of The Whispers would become a virus Unleashed in their system overload it fry their precious coordination or if we were unimaginably lucky seize control and I I would lead my crew my battered Band of Brothers into the the teeth of the Zeno lines at the moment of detonation distract them draw their fire hold them long enough for Ortiz to do his work then pray for a miracle to bring us back the plan R of desperation and a chilling ruthlessness that seemed to mirror the enemy own yet as my mind raced mapping the impossible battle ahead feeling the icy fingers of fear cord around my heart a strange sort of resolve settled Over Me Maybe This was how it would end not in a glorious charge or a fiery L stand but in the ultimate Gamble us humans with our messy emotions our maddening individuality would gamble it all on our most fragile most haunted Warrior it was a madman's gamble but hey wasn't that what we were best at

Channel: SciFi Terrans

Views: 2,191

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Id: SSGTATYMgVA

Length: 29min 10sec (1750 seconds)

Published: Mon Apr 29 2024