Zanboloch laid in his sleeping chamber, staring at the ceiling as if he hated it, his normally purple-blue skin going green with despair, having a silent grumble to himself. Despite the sleep-enhancing benefits of his “bed” he felt like he had been lying awake for the entire night.

Yesterday had been an absolute nightmare. Well, not literally, because otherwise he would have been able to wake up several hours earlier.
Captain Slick was both the Captain of the relatively small space station they were on and also Captain of the (admittedly undertrained) platoon that Zanboloch belonged to, and he was a bit of a…difficult person.

He had ordered the entire squad to do a round of mech sparring. (Exactly what it sounds like) Mech sparring may sound awesome to an inexperienced ear, but in reality it is torture.

The mech was designed for brute strength, destroying stuff, and looking cool. It had short, stubby legs, humongous arms that looked like they could punch a hole in the hull of a Warship, and a smallish torso which housed a sterile, vacuum-proof environment that a pilot could be strapped in.
It looked a lot like a giant, bashed-up metal gorilla with a glass chest.

Being in a mech is like participating in a street fight with 10 kilograms strapped to each of your limbs, all the while knowing that your judgemental Captain and your comrades (who don’t really have anything better to do than to watch) are just waiting to poke fun at your form, or your mistakes or literally anything you do wrong.
Zanboloch was probably the second most novice person in his platoon, which he pretended to be ashamed about but deep down all he could feel was relief that he wasn’t the first most novice.

He was sore, aching, and even felt a bit sniffly.

And today was the day he was going into battle.

Zanboloch sat up with a bolt and smashed his head on the top of his sleeping pod.
He growled in frustration and punched the “retract” button.
He had completely forgotten that he was finally travelling to “Earth” to battle the “humans” as they called themselves and their home planet.
It was still 2 or so hours until the squadron’s space station reached Earth, but Captain Slick insisted that everyone got up bright and early and train, train, train.

He gazed out his extensive window. He had made sure he called dibs on the room with the best view of the space station, even if it was the smallest.

He could see and name every major part of it from here.
It would rather remind any human of a ginormous, futuristic robotic ocean sunfish, with wings on the back that could fold inwards for landing, small, circular lumps with cannons attached to them dotted all over it, the massive main engine propelling the ship forward, sparking mighty blue flames, and the Mech Room, with neat lines of empty mechs ready to fight, and last and definitely least, the Captain’s Quarters.

Zanboloch breathed mist onto the spot on the glass where the Captain’s Quarters were, and then drew a poo sticking its tongue out.
He still had no idea, after almost a year of working for him, why the Captain was such a jerk. Maybe it was just that he was neglected during an important part of his development and was a prick to fill his heart hole, or something weird like that.

Zanboloch threw on his uniform and shot out the automatic door of his mini apartment.
His boots clomped across the white, glossy tiles, and flew through also white corridor.
He ran past his comrade’s own apartments. The doors were open, and there was no one inside any of the rooms.

He checked his watch and swore loudly. The foul word echoed along the seemingly endless corridor.
He was 30 minutes late. The Captain would have his stripes.
He followed his senses to the cinema, where the rest of the troops had gathered.
But they weren’t enjoying themselves.
The cinema was there for daily broadcasts from Zanboloch’s home planet, Xingfeng.
The movies were mainly just pep talks, briefings, and quite boring.
If he could just sneak past Captain Slick and sit next to his sister…

“LIEUTENANT ZANBOLOCH! GET OVER ‘ERE!!”

Zanboloch stumbled towards his green-faced Captain.

Slick just stood there, staring at him furiously.
Unsure of what to do, Zanboloch just waved.

Big mistake.

Slick grabbed his arm, shoved it high into the air, and waved it around.
“Oooh! Oooh! Look at me! I’m Lieutenant Zaaaaaaanboloch! Helllooooo! I love to WASTE EVERYONE’S TIME!!!!!”

The squad was unsure wether to look at what their Captain was doing or to keep looking at the TV, as Slick had told them to do nothing but keep their eyes on the screen.

After a few moments of painful silence, Slick announced,
“Thanks to the Lieutenant‘s LATENESS…” He poked Zanboloch in the stomach,
“You’ll all have to enjoy the briefing again, FROM THE START!!”

A tsunami of groans, boos and hisses filled the room and Zanboloch sat down.
He tried his meek little wave again, but that just made things worse.

Maybe now would be a good time to fill you in on Zanboloch’s extraterrestrial anatomy.

Zanboloch was a “Xingfengese” his home was a water-based planet far from Earth ruled by an Emperor.
The Xingfengese arose from amphibious ancestors, and then became significantly technologically advanced.

They have a generally humanoid figure, but have lightish blue skin which turns into purple with age and bright green with anger.
They also have just the right amount of a now evolutionarily redundant tail that is small enough to be completely useless and big enough to be very annoying.

It was now that Zanboloch was fidgeting in his seat, trying to position his tail so it didn’t push into his back.

A relatively young girl compared to the rest who was seated next to Zanboloch piped up and said, “Knock knock.”
Zanboloch sighed.
“Who’s there.” He said fatly.
“Uni.”
“Uni who?”
“Unincompoop. I told you to come EARLY, not late!”

Zanboloch sighed again.
His sister, Poioy, was almost 5 (human) years younger than him (with Zanboloch being the human equivalent of a 22 year old), but she was somehow the best person in the platoon, second to only Captain Slick himself.

She was an advanced weapon specialist, and chose to specialise in a new weapon every day.

Today it was a sword.

“Ah, the sword. The humble, original sword.” Sighed Poioy as she ran a bluish finger down the flat edge.
“So simple, so predictable, yet sooo effective.”
Zanboloch ran his hands through his non-existent hair. It had become a habit after he saw a picture of a human (who had a particularly extravagant head of hair) and imagining having hair of his own. He still couldn’t decide wether he liked the idea of it.

“Sis, don’t you think you should…specialise…in something other than just mindless swinging of sharp objects?”
“But what’s the point of a battle if you’re not mindlessly swinging a sharp object around?”

Zanboloch didn’t answer. It wasn’t long ago that he knew his sister would joke about this sort of thing, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Today it was one Emperor’s primary servants, Lola, who was given the drudgery of recording a broadcast.
She was very sort, and had a sort of pointy look about her.
Sort of like a highly intelligent chihuahua, but instead of biting you she’d whisper in the Emperor’s ear about you, or just make life hard by fining you or something.

“Soldiers of the Emperor’s Grand Army.” She said, her pompous voice made painfully loud by the microphone.
“The day has finally come. wWe have been on shaky ground with the humans, and now they have initiated war on us!”
Lola paused and nodded solemnly as if she could hear the soldiers gasping and also choking on their food.
“They raided a small factory on the business side of Xingfeng, and completely destroyed it and everyone inside!”
She paused and nodded solemnly again as a video of the human Starfighters dropping their bombs on the rather already beat-up looking factory popped up beside her.

“There is now only one way to save our race: we must rid the universe of these violent creatures. We will fight back!” She declared, punching the air.

The room was filled with the wild cheers of soldiers.
Soldiers, thought Zanboloch.
That’s all we’ll ever be.

Suddenly, another person, much resembling a futuristic scarecrow having a bad skin day stood up.
“Soldiers? Is that all we are? Everybody, look deep inside yourselves! Is all your life going to be, just being a disposable rookie in the Emperor’s army?”

There was silence. Somebody farted loudly. Considering how Captain Slick didn’t instantly begin yelling about it, it was probably him.

“Well yeah, I guess so.” Said somebody.
“My mum wanted me to be a lawyer…” Said somebody else.
“I just wanted to be a part of something.”
“I signed up because my friend signed up.”
“Captain, did you fart?”

Slick sighed.
“Fred, this is why you’re the 1st most terrible person in the squad. Heck, you’re even worse than Lieutenant Zanboloch over there, and his farting issue.”

Zanboloch’s face went from shame to pure, comical shock.

“Listen, Fred. Everyone. You are a soldier. You fight for what’s right, and when you fight you may die. But for good reason.” Slick sighed.
“DIE?! Agh! Wait till Mummy finds out about this.” Yelped Fred.
Slick groaned.
“You know, Fred, if you weren’t my little brother, I would have kicked you out of this squad long ago.” Grumbled the Captain.

Suddenly, an enormous explosion rocked the station. The lights flickered and went dark, and were replaced by ghoulish red ones that made the whole place look like a vampire’s funeral.

The ship rumbled, creaked and then made a long, drawn out grinding sound.
Several more explosions slammed into the ship and chaos ensued.

Soldiers screamed like a bunch of dying frogs and clung onto eachother while Poioy began yelling and ran around flailing her sword, looking for a human to stab.

“IT’S THE HUMANS!!” Roared Slick over the din.
“Everyone, finish that popcorn, man your stations, prepare to be boarded! The battle has come to us early!”