Chapter 9: Know The Enemy

Aurelia

Chapter 9: Know The Enemy

        At four o'clock in the morning,My phone unleashed a scathingly loud reminder that it was time to start a new day in the form of a deafening alarm. It's astonishing how after all these decades, humans STILL haven't found a way to combat the sickening symptoms of sleep deprivation or even better, figure out a scientifically proven method to awaken someone without requiring violent noise or anything that involves a rude awakening, if possible. I know several dudes who get really, REALLY cranky when they wake up, and a few of these dudes happen to be friends of mine. Jeez, no wonder the aliens are so much better than us at this kind of stuff.

        However, waking up is necessary to kickstart my important morning ritual before I go to work. Speaking of work, I just got...removed from my job yesterday (for clarity's sake, I think “fired” would be a more fitting word for the occasion. Just sayin'). Fortunately, I have a side job as a pilot, which should be enough finance my life, although maybe not as well as my previous occupation did. Oh, and did I also mention the fact that the customer I'm about to serve today is indirectly responsible for causing the loss of my job? Well, he is. Talk about lucky, huh?

        Anyway, enough complaining. it's time to start the day! Still drowsy, I took my phone and turned off the alarm, then continued with my beauty sleep. Just kidding, I actually got up from the bed to begin my morning routine. Yawning, I walked to the bathroom with half-opened eyes and flipped the light switch. The lights flickered on and off for about a second before giving off a consistent glow of light. I should get the bathroom bulb repaired; it's been like this for a while now, and I'm not the kind of girl who enjoys showering in the dark. Come to think of it, I can't think of ANY girl who might enjoy groping for the shampoo bottle in a pitch black bathroom (to be fair, the lightbulb wasn't COMPLETELY defunct, so at least I was still able to see to a certain extent whilst in the bathroom).

        I considered calling an electrician to fix the lights in my bathroom, but I was worried that the bill might damage my finances if I did. My previous job had been funding my life, which included my beloved (and not to mention constantly deteriorating) house, which was only getting worse everyday. Without a steady flow of income, how was I to maintain the condition of my home? Selling it was out of the question; this house has served as my refuge for as long as I can remember, and houses don't exactly grow on trees here on Priroda Moon. As a matter of fact, I'm willing to wager that people are probably fighting each other over the deed for a cramped shack somewhere down the road as I'm saying these words (well, technically you're not really “saying” all this shit, per se...). Point is, I didn't have much of a choice but to find a way to gain money to maintain my home.

        The bathroom's lighting was disappointingly dim, but it was blinding enough for my eyes to wince at. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adapt to the lights, and once I did, I started stripping off my grimy clothes, which haven't been changed for like, a REALLY long time (and by “a REALLY long time” I think she means “yesterday”. I gotta admit, those must be some pretty grimy-ass clothes, and this is coming from a dude whose personal hygiene can occasionally be compared to that of a chimpanzee's). First and foremost, I took off my top, and instinctively scrunched up my face at the smell of the BO emanating from my upper body (as you can probably figure out by now, my occupation involves a lot of moving around, and isn't really that sensitive in the hygiene department as a result). I shuddered to imagine what horrible smell would explode out of my pants when I took them off, only to discover that my imagination had produced a lackluster prediction when I took the actual legwear off. Put simply, my body smelled way worse than I thought it would from the waist down. Way, WAY worse.

        I normally change before I go to bed after a long day at work, mainly due to the stupefying scent that would waft from my work clothes in the morning if I used them as makeshift pajamas. Last night was a notable exception thanks to the overwhelming amount of stress I've experienced as a result of losing my main source of income (in layman terms, she's pissed off that she lost her job. The reason I couldn't just say that was because I wanted to add a little more variety to the sentences so that they would use different words, instead of recycling the same sentence over and over and over again. No? You don't give a shit? OK, I'll stop talking now), which prompted me to make a beeline straight to the bed the instant I arrived back home (after carelessly dropping my bag on the floor, of course) so that I could quickly sleep my worries away. For the current day, at least.

        Once I had taken off all my clothes, I took a good, long look at the mirror to observe the characteristics of the human staring back at me (she means herself), and saw a rather short, dark-skinned woman with black hair mimicking every single move I made (this is a pretty weird way to show you how she looks like, isn't it? I feel you, bro. Or sis. Depends on who's reading this, I guess). Oh, and she was also completely butt-naked, and not to mention covered in grime. And sweat. And dirt. I think you get my point.

        Ignoring the painfully obvious fact that I smelled like a dude who had just spent his entire day sprinting around the city (sound like someone you know? And besides, I personally think that the scent of someone who just spent their entire day sprinting around the city would be pretty damn nice on a girl, although I understand that that's more of a guy thing. Even better if you could see the her after she's done. Just sayin'), I evaluated my looks (whilst reminding myself to always change my clothes before I went to sleep. Did I mention that the bed is now riddled with my stench as a result of me sleeping on it? Well, it is), praising God for giving me a regular body whilst ogling at my nude self. My friends often tease me for being short, which I admit still gets on my nerves up to this day. Thankfully, it's all in good fun, and I know that they're not really serious about what they say most of the time. Especially insults.

        I groped my boobs, feeling the firm bags of black meat slosh around in my hands (that was probably the weirdest sentence I've ever typed, and it doesn't help that I'm a guy. but hey, there's always a first time for everything). My tits weren't exactly Kim Kardashian material, but they're decent. I mean, I'm not COMPLETELY flat-chested, because my friends would've been teasing me about it ages ago if it were true (besides, I'm not a big fan of discussing sexual matters, so I expect that my friends would be a bit more sensitive about those subjects). Needless to say, I'm eternally grateful of my chest, which will look better once I wash off all the crap that's been dirtying my body.

        I then took off my pants, along with the rest of my underwear. I hadn't shown off my pussy to a guy just yet (with the exception of my dad, which is kinda inevitable), and I sure as hell ain't describing what it looks like (which automatically leaves it up to your imagination. I know I'm a perv, but even I have my limits). My butt, however, seems to be rather disproportionate to the rest of my frame, although I might just be imagining that bit. Come to think about it, I think my body is curvaceous enough to be classified as an “hourglass figure”, although my friends don't seem to point that out to me so often. I mean, there WERE several times in which one of my pals (both guys and girls) complimented me on my bod (since they were my friends, they avoided complimenting...specific body parts), but those moments were rare and when they DID happen, the comments were delivered in a joking manner (unless the comment is about my height. I get that a lot, and fortunately, I get quite used to those comments after a while). After ogling at my naked self in the mirror for a little while longer, I stepped into the shower for a lengthy, well-deserved bath.

        After I had completed my bath, I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel from a nearby hanger, drying off every last droplet of water stuck onto me. After changing into decent attire, I started brushing my teeth. Whilst doing so, I checked my phone to check for any messages that might have popped up the night before. As expected, I didn't miss out on much; I was what other people would normally call a “night owl”, thanks to the stupendously large amounts of work I have to put up with everyday. Alas, I had little to do now that I didn't have a proper occupation, which felt...absurd, because I'm the type of girl who always has something to do. Not doing anything (regardless of whether said activity is boring or not) feels weird to me. Don't ask me why; I just do.

        Just as I was packing up my gear for work, my phone rang. My ringtone was from an ancient, yet extremely enjoyable song called “Bohemian Rhapsody” (yes, I just did that. A vast majority of readers might get this reference, the rest of you may not). I hummed to the song's addicting tune for several seconds before actually looking at the screen to see who was calling (what can I say? The girl loves her music). I enjoyed the song, even though it was like, a few thousand years old by now. I looked at my phone to discover that my good friend Gamma Lexington was calling.

        Gamma got her name from a type of radiation wave, and quite fittingly happens to be one of the most brilliant minds in the Nebo System, aside from Leonardo Da Wilson (before he went cuckoo, that is). We first met during a business trip to the Zeus Industries headquarters back on Earth (yes, believe it or not, that place isn't completely fucked, although it's now a very artificial shell of its former self) that my boss had staged in order to “take care of something” inside the building's R&D division. We had our first conversation when she saw me staring at an early concept of a self-sustaining power source that relied on Ignium crystals, a resource commonly found on Palit Moon, one of the Nebo System's most dangerous (and most resource-filled) moons Gamma explained to me that the concept of an Ignium-powered device is still far-fetched thanks to the extremely unstable nature of the crystal, and eventually, our little chat about self-sustaining power sources suddenly turned into a debate about the main antagonist of a TV show that we both loved watching. Point is, we became close friends. Like, really, really quick. Within several sentences of dialogue, I felt that Gamma and I instantly “clicked” (that's the word you use to describe instant social compatibility, I believe), like we were sisters in a different universe or something.

        After a great deal of chattering about things we had in common and whatnot, Gamma introduced me to her colleague Gabriel “Gooey”, who apparently got the nickname “Gooey” after conducting countless experiments that usually end up in him “gooifying” his test subject. One of his greatest achievements include inventing an “adaptive” battle rifle firing projectiles dependent on the ammunition being stored within the gun's clip (for instance, the rifle will fire bolts of electricity if loaded with energy cells, plasma shots if the clip is loaded with plasma cartridges, etc). Needless to say, Ol' Gabe decided to stick to his famed moniker and decided to load the firearm with a bunch of radioactive (and not to mention very, very dangerous) energy cells filled to the brim with green plasma energy on the gun's first test run, which would make sense seeing that Gabe loved things that turned other things into slime. After ending the lives of hundreds of innocent little lab sheep with the help of one gun and hundreds of ammunition types, the firearm successfully passed the trsting phase, but was promptly banned by some guys over at Interplanetary Human Rights for being “too gruesome”. Despite the setback, Gabe still went on with his crazy experiments, and is more determined than ever to prove his scientific intellect to the world.

        Gamma then introduced me to Gabe, who was one of Gamma's closest friends in the business (who also happened to work in the Research and Development division of Zeus Industries, primarily specializing in the weapon-related stuff). Gabe also turned out to be a really nice guy, and just like I did with Gamma, we quickly formed a bond that would stay strong for many years to come (as you can probably figure out by now, Aurelia isn't half as socially incompotent as our ol' pal Elmer is). Alas, we can't always hang out with each other because everyone has their own things to do, but once in a while we manage to find the time to come together.

        I answered Gamma's call. “Hey, Gab. What'th up?” I began, tootbrush still in my mouth. The foam produced by the toothpaste had screwed with my pronounciation skills, but for the sake of efficiency, I preferred to multitask.

“The theilig,” she replied mockingly. Wow, didn't see that one coming so early in the morning (both the pun and the crack at my foam-muffled voice). Then again, I wouldn't have expected less from a friend like Gamma; we make fun of each other all the time. Nice one, mate. I chuckled, and two bubbles flew out of my toothpaste-riddled mouth. Realizing that the conversation would probably sound better with me NOT talking like a girl who just cut off her tongue, I rushed back to the bathroom and rinsed my mouth before proceeding with the conversation.

        “Rel. Rel? You there?” Gamma replied, most likely perplexed at the fact that she was hearing the sounds of running feet and rushing water after the first two lines of dialogue of our call. I finished rinsing my mouth and turned on my phone's front camera, which automatically switched my phone to “holo-call mode”, shooting out a miniature holograph of Gamma's phone screen. I sometimes wish that the “holo-call” feature would create a three-dimensional figure of the person you're talking to and their surroundings, but I guess humans haven't reached that point in communications technology. Not just yet. Oh well, at least the holograph is in full color.

       “Yeah, I'm here. Thought it'd be better to speak WITHOUT a mouthful of foam. How's Gabe? And secondly, are you sure it's safe to be talking in the middle of an experiment?” I asked, capable of uttering discernible words now that my mouth was toothbrush-less. I saw Gamma in her lab coat and realized that she was wearing glasses (she only used glasses during occasions when she absolutely needed precise vision, which I assume would include dangerous lab experiments that could blow you to kingdom come), holding a test tube of mysterious green liquid in her hand. She was in a white-walled laboratory filled with glass containers, colorful (and probably lethal) chemical compounds and warning signs as far as the eye can see (which isn't a lot, seeing that I'm looking at all this from behind a screen). I recognized the room as the Chemicals Laboratory, which I had personally visited during my many trips to the Zeus Industries headquarters.

“Ah, you ask me that every time, and I appreciate your concern, Rel (yes, it's true that I ask Gamma that question a lot of times. The prospect of one of my closest friends blowing up in the middle of a video call makes me shudder no matter how many times I run it through my mind, so that would explain the constant asking of the same question). First of all, Gabe is fine. Or at least he will be, until he inevitably vaporizes another Bunsen Burner or something,” Gamma replied coolly as she poured the contents of the test tube she had been holding in her hand into another glass container filled with black slime. As the green fluid from the test tube made contact with the slime, the mixture started bubbling.

“Well, I'm sure he'll be fine,” I commented.

        I glanced at the test tube in Gamma's hand, then at the glass container she poured the green liquid into. “What are you working on right now? Some kind of new wonder drug?” I asked my bespectacled buddy.

“I suppose that you're right in a certain sense, if you meant that the 'wonder drug' is meant for vehicles instead of humans, and by 'drug', you mean 'steroid' and not 'medicine'. The mixture you see before your very eyes is called “HyperFuel”, or at least it will be once we find the perfect mixture,” Gamma explained. The mixture was still bubbling, and white smoke started billowing out of the container.

“Who came up with the idea? Did some guy decide to make the vehicular equivalent of HyperBuff?” I guessed. HyperBuff is an illegal street drug that transforms its user into a hulking gorilla-human hybrid (as evidenced by the temporary but rapidly increased hair growth rate caused by the drug. Come to think about it, I guess the user would look more like a tumbleweed with a six-pack than a roided-up gorilla) capable of performing incredible feats of strength, such as being able to bend steel beams using only their bare hands, among other strength-related perks. However, this comes at the cost of turning the user into an uncontrollable, bloodthirsty psychopath as long as the drug's effect is active. Worst of all, first-time HyperBuff users instantly become addicted to the drug (actually, I'm pretty sure ALL drugs have a tendency of causing addiction. However, HyperBuff is different in a way that-I'll let Aurelia her explain) and will attempt to take another dose of the drug mere seconds after their rampage, creating a vicious cycle of drug consumption. Long-term usage of HyperBuff normally results in a 24/7 sensation of insatiable bloodlust (among a vast number of other confusing medical symptoms that I'd rather not look up and risk melting my brain with) and a mocking similarity to Tom Hanks's character in Cast Away, if Tom Hanks's character in Cast Away was born with gorilla genes and looked like Harambe's long-lost sibling as a result (God bless that primate's poor soul. And yes, HyperBuff addicts look like gorillas, most likely due several primate-derived ingredients present within the drug). The point is, HyperBuff is some serious stuff (#rhymingaccidentally). Anyway, back to the conversation.

        “That's more or less what happened. As a matter of fact, the CEO of Zeus Industries was also kinda worried that his company's newest product was gonna be compared to a lowly street drug, but the public seemed to calm down once he told everyone that HyperFuel was NOT in fact an uncontrollable drug capable of transforming humans into mindless primate-like beasts, but rather a sort of 'pick-me-up' for automotive vehicles. There was still some controversy regarding the product's naming afterward, but thankfully it wasn't bad enough to force Zeus Industries to cancel the project.” Gamma explained as she watched the mixture slowly stop bubbling.

        “Hey, I almost forgot! How's your job coming along, Rel? Everything good?” Gamma asked, still observing the mixture carefully.

“Oh, about that...” I responded, somewhat taken aback by the question. I was still upset over the loss of my job, and I hesitated, wondering whether I should tell Gamma about the incident or if I should refrain from talking about it until I had finally managed to cope with the loss. Seeing that Gamma was one of my closest friends, I chose the former option.

“I got fired,” I replied curtly.

“Oh. I'm sorry Rel, I didn't mean-”

“It's OK, Gam. I'm sure I can find another job sooner or later, and that my economical situation will improve once I do. I appreciate the concern,” I said. As pissed as I was to lose my main source of income, I tried to maintain a positive attitude (which is more than I can say for Elmer here, and not to mention myself. What? Cynicism is a lot more exciting). After all, if you're feeling down in the dumps, why be a jerk and bring everyone else down with you?

“Well, in any case, it's good to see that you're still holding on despite the dire circumstances you are forced to endure,” Gamma said. By now, the HyperFuel had stopped bubbling, and smoke had already stopped spewing out of the mixture's glass container. Gamma lifted the container and carefully inspected it as she spoke to me.

        “Did you hear about the museum robbery today?” Gamma asked. “I believe it happened near your place, didn't it?”

“Oh, really? I didn't know that...” I responded, trying to sound oblivious to the event. If you're wondering why I was playing dumb, let's just say that I knew a bit more about the museum incident than I let on.

“What happened?” I inquired innocently.

“It's kinda hard to explain. First, a bunch of Foris soldiers broke into the museum, and quite literally in this sense,” Gamma began.

“What do you mean, 'literally'?”

“I mean in a sense that they actually broke into the museum by blasting a giant hole in the roof atop the Tempus Artifact exhibit,” Gamma explained. I knew this fact already, seeing that I had witnessed the event firsthand (don't tell anyone, OK? This is between you and me), but I had to stick to playing dumb. Gamma put down the glass container she was holding up in the air, and stepped away from the screen. Several seconds later, she returned with a tablet displaying the front page of a news article.

        “Let me sum it up for you,” Gamma said, looking at the tablet to decide which part she should read to best describe the incident to me (if only she knew, man. If only she knew). “Ah, here it is: according to this article, the Foris managed to keep the crowd in check by vaporizing some dude who had the guts to complain about the break-in. Apparently, the Foris had come to seize a fragment of the Tempus Artifact which was located within the museum, or at least that's what they INTENDED to do until some armor-clad dude decided to nick the Artifact piece out of its exhibit.

        “Within minutes, the robbery turned into a pursuit that looked like it came straight out of an an action movie. After a lengthy chase, the mysterious armor-clad figure managed to escape his alien pursuers, and the Foris called off the chase. Amazingly, the incident caused no further deaths (aside from the guy who got executed at the beginning of the raid, that is), although it DID result in a hefty amount of collateral damage,” Gamma summarized, putting the tablet down on the table.

“What the hell were the police doing in the midst of all this insanity?” I asked, still pretending to know zilch about the horrible happening.

“Oh, the police were there, alright. The reason they turned a blind eye to the chase was mainly because that they didn't want to be involved in such an intense event, especially with the Foris in play. You know how the cops are around here. They've got the guns, but they ain't got no guts,” Gamma explained. This fact was true, by the way. The police in Priroda Moon are capable of handling small-scale crimes such as petty theft and traffic violations (“No sir, the right lane is for oncoming vehicles ONLY.”), but just like every other perfectly sane human being, they tend to stay away from situtations that require them to risk their lives, and “pursuits involving a bunch of relentless aliens” seem to fit under that criteria.

        “The authorities are still trying to figure out the identity of the armor-clad figure, but have been unsuccessful as of thus far,” Gamma said, picking up the glass container she had previously set down on the table and stepped away from the camera once again. She returned carrying a crudely designed car engine of some sort, and began pouring the contents of the container into the engine. “They've narrowed the figure's identity to either-” BANG! In the middle of her sentence, Gamma was interrupted by a blinding flash from the car engine, followed by an earsplitting explosion. Now the engine was aflame. “Shit, there's something wrong with the mixture. Well, back to mixing. I've gotta go now, Rel. Have a little...accident that needs tending to. If you wanna know more about the robbery, I suggest tuning into some news channel. I'm sure they're discussing it as we speak. Bye, Rel,” Gamma said nonchalantly, jogging off-screen to find some tool to extinguish the fire. She must be pretty used to these accidents to be acting so relaxed with a FIRE raging in her lab, I thought. “Bye, Gam!” I shouted to an off-screen Gamma, in hope that my friend would hear me. I then closed the call.

        Curious to learn more about the museum robbery/chase (let's just call it “the Museum Incident” from now on, shall we?), I waltzed over to my living room and sat on the couch, and switched on my television. Just a bit of background info: in this era of high-tech gadgetry, the television has transformed from a gigantic, cumbersome rectangular box stuffed with wires into a device that essentially resembles a 55-inch pane of glass with, well, FEWER wires attached to it (the “55-inch” bit may vary; different TV sets come at different shapes and sizes, and the 55-inch television set just happens to be the model I own) thanks to the scientists over at Zeus Industries (yes, Gamma's company. Zeus is a very illustrious corporation, if you haven't figured that bit out already). The current TV model comes with not only a lighter weight, but also projects clearer images compared to its heavier (and much older) counterpart.

        I tuned into the JustReportingNews channel, one of the most popular news channels available on television. I was a little late for the news report for the Museum Incident, but I didn't miss out on much. The screen was still in the newsroom, and all I had missed were a few sentences of dialogue introducing the robbery. “-the criminals were armed and extremely dangerous. For this reason, the local authorities are willing to pay a huge sum of money to whomever can take down any of the offendors involved in the museum robbery (because the authorities are too chicken to do the deed themselves. Typical pigs),” I heard a tuxedo-clad news anchorwoman say. On the TV screen, there was a banner below the reporter that read, “DEVASTATING ROBBERY DECIMATES DISTRICT” (below it were even smaller banners of text that showed viewers the Nebo System's stock market rates).

        Suddenly, the news screen split into two halves, one half displaying the anchorwoman in the newsroom and the other showing a tuxedo-wearing (dress codes. I know, right?) reporter holding a mic. The reporter was male, and he was standing in front of the museum's main entrance, which had been sealed off by barricade tape, which I'm gonna assume was added shortly after the incident occurred. “Our reporter Bartholomew Khan is on the scene right now to tell us more about what happened. Over to you, Khan.” the anchorwoman continued. The TV was then fully occupied by the reporter's screen, and the reporter began speaking.

        “Thank you, Julia. I am standing in front of the Museum of Interplanetary History, where a HUGE catastrophe had taken place yesterday afternoon. We have several eyewitnesses who claim to have saw the incident unfold firsthand. In fact, here's one of them right now,” the reporter said, moving to his right so that the eyewitness could step into view of the screen. The eyewitness was a bearded, scruffy-looking homeless person who looked like the most recent bath he had took place sometime around the Jurassic Period. “So, what did you see there, sir? Describe what you saw,” the reporter asked before holding the mic under the hobo's mouth.

“Well, first thing I remembered was this really loud sound comin' from that big buildin' over there,” the hobo said in a gruff voice, pointing at the museum with his left hand (and scratching his butt with the other). “Then suddenly, I saw this really weird lookin' feller wearing this really dark, shiny suit runnin' outta the museum like his ass was on fire or somethin'. I didn't take a good look at 'im, 'cuz some feller just runnin's outta a building ain't really none o' my business, no matter how fast he's runnin'.

        “Few moments later, I saw a buncha' other fellers rush outta the buildin' like their asses was on fire, too. It was kinda weird that a feller would run outta a buildin' followed by a few other fellers, so I took a peek at the buncha' guys who were runnin'. Now I ain't a genius or somethin', I'm just some ol' guy wanderin' her and there, but it ain't much of a surprise that them chasers was some ragtag team o' aliens. I knew that they ain't normal the second I saw them high-tech guns and suits and all them fancy-ass gadgets.” the vagrant explained, scratching various parts of his body the entire time he spoke (nether region included).

        “Thank you for the story, sir. Now, back to you, Julia,” the reporter said, mic now under his mouth instead of the hobo's. The screen switched back to the newsroom, and the anchorwoman continued talking.

“The chase was caught on camera thanks to bystanders, who managed to capture footage of the pursuit, giving us clear detail of what happened during the chase,” the anchorwoman explained as the screen cut to footage of the chase as seen from a bystander's point of view. “As one can see in this video, the chase began mere seconds after the armor-clad figure stole the Artifact piece, and eventually ended at the red light district, where the aliens gave up their chase,” the anchorwoman said as videos of the chase flashed through the screen, showing the armor-clad figure running through different areas ranging from museum exhibits to city roads.

        Almost all the videos had one thing in common: they all included at least some degree of damage, shown whether it was in the form of either something in the environment breaking as a result of carelessness during the chase (I mean, c'mon now. Who the fuck knocks over a t-shirt stand and returns to prop the stand back up whilst he's in the middle of a frickin' CHASE? At best, he'll probably just say sorry to the t-shirt stand's owner as he continues running for his goddamn life) or shots being fired from both the aliens and the robber. Amazingly enough, all of the aliens' shots missed their target, with the most accurate shots only barely scratching the target's armor. On the other hand, multiple aliens have fallen prey to the mysterious raider's shooting prowess, and all the videos involved at least one or two alien pursuers being shot down by the runner's gun. The gun must've been an electric-based weapon, due to the aliens' bodies violently twitching shortly after being hit by a projectile from the figure's firearm, followed the aliens performing what can only be described as the weirdest breakdance ever as they descend to the floor in an electric boogaloo.

        I sighed at the aliens' incompotence. How could such an advanced extraterrestrial race be unable to hunt down one target without letting said target get away, even with a team of (presumably) highly trained soldiers? To add further insult to injury, keep in mind that a vast majority of the aliens were incapacitated instead of killed outright, meaning that they had to live with the fact that their squad of highly trained troops were no match for a puny thief (on the upside, they could also say that in their defense, said “puny thief” also had the maddest running, dodging and shooting skillz of any human living in the Nebo System. Yes, the words “maddest” and “skillz” were intentional slang words, so shut the fuck up). When I get my hands on this guy, he's gonna be in a WORLD of hurt, you mark my words.

        “And that's all the news we've got so far, viewers. We'll keep you posted on any updates regarding the incident as soon as possible,” the anchorwoman said as the screen went back to the newsroom. “In other news, Angitia Astrid's pet python was reported to have strangled a shoplifter who had attempted to steal from a cash register in an Aphrodite Beauty Shop outlet. We'll be back with the full story after the break, so stay tuned.” the anchorwoman said as an image of Angitia Astrid (along with her pet snake) appeared on the right side of the TV screen. After the anchorwoman had finished spoiling the audience on the upcoming news story, the screen was replaced by the JustReportingNews channel's transition screen, before displaying an advertisement about life insurance (brought to you by the Asclepius Corporation).

        I switched off the TV the second it started showing advertisements. As much as I wanted to listen to Angitia Astrid's pet reptile choking a guy to death (Angitia is an interesting character, but she's part of another story for another day), I had a job to do, and I couldn't afford to be late; my customer would be upset. Once I had finished packing all of my stuff, I stepped out of the house and into the crowded streets of Priroda Moon. After double-checking my inventory to ensure that I had brought all the equipment I needed for the day, I began my journey to the Da Wilson Starport.