Joe Hartlet barely breathed as he examined the odd creature through the scope of his NX-37 sniper rifle. It looked like a tentacled mollusk with a flat, plate-like shell, hanging upside down from a branch so the shell faced the ground. It had at least three tiny eyestalks waving around, examining its next potential meal, a big green fruit dangling in front of it. The thing was about the size of a large housecat.
“Here’s another one,” he said. “Let me know when you—”
“The scan is complete, sir. You may take your shot,” a clean, emotionless voice responded from behind.
Joe swept some of his black hair off his face and centered on the target. He gently squeezed the trigger. His beefy 100-kilogram frame easily absorbed the light recoil.
The round hurtled toward its target, too fast for the human eye. While still dozens of meters from its target, the bullet detected a wind drift from its logged destination and corrected for it with tiny bristles on its surface that could alter its drag. The projectile slammed into the unfortunate tree dweller and tumbled through its innards, dropping it from the branch.
Joe searched through his scope for a moment, looking for his target. He found it lying on the ground, leaking red fluid. The thing looked very dead.
“Looks like it’s got iron-based blood, anyway,” he noted happily.
To Lieutenant Hartlet, this was a dream job: travel to strange planets, scan every type of lifeform, catalog it, and make sure that it could be killed. Part of his job was to identify species that were potential threats to the UNSF personnel who were working on-planet. Besides, none of the scientists ever complained if he brought in an extra corpse or two for dissection.
“That would be consistent with other life forms catalogued on this planet, sir,” the robot behind him agreed flatly.
It was a humanoid constructed of black plastic and metal, its head smooth and featureless other than a black plate where a human’s eyes would be.
“Okay. This critter is definitely not a threat,” Joe summarized. “Let’s pick up some big game. It’s kinda fun to plink at these things, but I doubt anything that small could hurt Terrans anyway.”
“Size is only one of several variables involved, sir,” the Series Seven commented.
“Agreed. I still don’t care. Now, big game,” Joe insisted. He scratched at the dark stubble forming on his chin.
“I’m afraid we’re needed at the base, sir.”
Joe’s eyebrow rose, but he didn’t have time to reply. His comm link announced an incoming message with a mental flourish of musical notes. Joe connected and saw Commander Mailson waiting to speak with him in his mind’s eye. He immediately joined the channel.
“Hartlet here,” he announced.
“Lieutenant. We have something requiring your immediate attention.”
“Yes sir. What is it, sir?”
“Looks like we have a surprise visit from some smugglers. Over on Yarnitha.”
Joe considered the news for a moment. Yarnitha was the second largest continent on the planet. So far no UNSF bases had been set up on it.
“Smugglers? That sure was quick. We just got here. What’s the plan of action, sir?”
“Here’s the suspected landing zone,” the commander said.
A map appeared on the link and Joe mentally examined it. The continent of Yarnitha was displayed with a wide red swath over about a third of its surface.
“I know, it’s large. They were quite resourceful in our orbital encounter. Take your copter out there and see if you can snoop them out. If you do find the landing site, try and identify the ship so we can intercept it at its destination port if they elude us here. Of course, if you run across any of them while investigating…”
Joe knew what that meant. Smuggling alien artifacts was a grave offense, posing a considerable danger to the United Nations. Anyone caught doing it could be shot if they didn’t surrender immediately upon coming into contact with the Space Force.
Commander Mailson knew Joe quite well. The lieutenant’s line of thinking was transparent to him.
“I thought you’d enjoy the chance to bag something other than alien varmints, for once.”
“Yes, sir! I appreciate that, sir.”
“Be careful. They know it’s a dangerous business and have already proven to be well prepared. They’re more likely to start shooting at you than surrender.”
“Yes, sir. What do I have at my disposal for this operation?”
“I requisitioned some hardware for you. The scientists are screaming up purple paste over it. I managed to get you another Series Seven, a variety of small arms, and some satellite coverage to help search for them. We’ll drop a charging station for your copter near the search zone. Since the copter travels light, we’ll drop most of the other supplies you need with the fuel.”
“Sounds good, sir. Anything else?”
“Those are your orders, Lieutenant. Keep me notified.”
The commander broke the link. Joe opened his eyes and threw his rifle over his back.
“Big game it is,” he said happily and marched back toward the copter.