Scree watched the chaos unfold in the MTS via her clandestine connection to the security camera network and quickly began typing a message. She pulled up another window on her system monitor and considered the problem. They had two hunters missing and their communicators had been attached to some dirtling beasts. This meant the hunters had been killed or captured. Killed would be better, but she feared they may have been captured.

  With the MTS console temporarily out of action it would take a day or two to repair. Scree tapped at her console and brought up the orbit information. It was as she feared. That stupid dirtling orbiting space ship - which didn’t officially exist - was going to be directly above the location of the last hunt by the time repairs were complete. The complicated trajectories and orbits meant they wouldn’t be able to get back in position without intersecting the dirtling ship for days which would be a problem.

  Scree typed furiously and pressed the final words with a firm stab of her finger. She pulled out a small red Drop Pod and inserted the memory chip inside. This was quickly placed into the unofficial Drop Pod receptacle in her console and it was whisked to the edge of the shuttle in moments and flung into space. Her cameras observed the Drop Pod’s engines start and it was out of sight in moments.

  ****

  Captain Connor got up from his console and took off his headphones. Hans and Jim hovered nearby and looked at Connor expectantly.

  “Well, damn,” said Connor, “We’re in it deep.”

  Connor raised his hands to forestall his team mates questions. After so many months in the International Space Station Hans, Jim and Connor were close friends. There was plenty of work and research to do, but the three of them were on their own in a small area, so had discussed so many things together, friendship was inevitable when they knew they had no choice.

  “That was Houston. Those aliens we saw last year were just scouts or explorers. They led their alien hunters here who are sending down hunting parties all over the world in random locations. Houston reckon it’s about four or more attacks per day.”

  Jim couldn’t wait and said, “But why haven’t we seen them? We’re up here in orbit all the time.”

  “That’s what I asked when they shared the news with me. They plotted the locations of all known hunts - and I don’t think they have them all as some of the locations are pretty remote - and compared it to our orbit. It looks like they’re avoiding us,” Connor said and smiled, “We must be pretty scary.”

  Jim and Hans gave Connor “the look” and he nodded, “Yeah, I know. We’re completely unarmed and have no way of defending ourselves. I have shared the footage Houston have sent us of some of the hunts and the aliens have some pretty powerful weapons.”

  Hans said, “You keep using the words hunts and hunters. Why?”

  “Have a look at the videos and it looks pretty clear. The aliens beam down like they are using some sort of science fiction transporter beam, then they wander around shooting at anything that moves using laser guns, bullets, explosives and more. Sometimes we see the aliens gather around a kill and take what are obviously selfies. A few hours or so later they disappear. Houston and various Earth defence organisations are sure they are hunts or some sort of safari,” Connor explained.

  Jim shook his head, “That’s pretty sick.”

  Hans and Connor nodded in agreement. Connor said, “It’s weird. That guy, the blue alien we saw at the end, he waved to me and didn’t look dangerous. Maybe they’re not all the same?”

  “Whatever the case, why are we in trouble?” said Jim, “If they’re avoiding us, it’s all sweet, isn’t it.”

  “Ah,” said Connor, “It was. Houston just got word from an Australian alien response force - apparently they have them all over the world now - that they had captured two alien hunters. Once more Houston did the calculations and we will be directly over where they were captured, somewhere in Queensland.”

  “And?” prompted Hans as Connor paused.

  “And, the rapid response guys said that the aliens are known to send military forces down after hunts to retrieve bodies. They are sure they will send them to get the captured aliens. And we will be directly above the location the aliens want to be. We are going to be in the way.”

  “Ahhh,” sighed all three of them together. This shared communication gradually grew over their long time working and living together.

  “When can they pick us up?” asked Jim.

  “Houston reckons that NASA can send a rescue mission, but it may take a while,” said Connor.

  Hans and Jim looked at Connor, mentally asking how long.

  “About three years,” Connor answered smiling ruefully.

  Hans stood up and looked out the window, as the sun rose revealing the beautiful Earth. Which they may never get to see again.

  ****

  Patter looked up at Trotter after he quickly read the message he had just received.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Patter pointed at the message and shouted at Trotter, “This is not good!”

  Trotter nodded and waited.

  Patter hopped off his hover chair and paced the floor. He found he could concentrate better when he walked around feeling the weight on his legs and body. He stopped and pointed at Trotter.

  “That Dirtling ship has to go.”

  Trotter shook his head in agreement and said, “We do not have the firepower to get rid of it, sir.”

  “Don’t those hunters, or even better Harrick’s team, have more powerful weapons?”

  Trotter replied, “More powerful, yes, but not powerful enough to reach the distances required to destroy it sufficiently. The shuttle needs a clear space to return to the position above the missing hunters’ location.”

  Patter stroked his whiskers and asked, “Do we need to be in position? Do we know if the stupid hunters are dead or alive?”

  “Sir, the missing hunters’ communicators were attached to two dirtling beasts which ran amok in the MTS destroying the console and transmission equipment. Examination of the corpses revealed the communicators had been attached by some primitive fastenings.”

  “Could that have been an accident?” asked Patter.

  Trotter nodded in the negative, “No. Not at all. The communicators were wrapped in a sticky tape and the translators could read a message written on the tape. ‘Compliments of ARRG’ was on one and the other read ‘Payback!’. The locals are getting dangerous.”

  “Dangerous!” roared Patter, “They are NC. NC! Non Compatible! They have no rights to be dangerous.”

  Patter fumed and paced with even firmer steps.

  He then hopped into his hover chair and reached for his secure communicator console, Trotter. Stay here. You need to listen to this.”

  Patter thumped the screen and waited for a response.

  “Yes?” they heard as an image of a very scruffy, large, rat like creature appeared on the screen. He looked to be as tall as Harrick, but broader and much meaner. Trotter showed no outward changes, but he winced at the sight.

  “Ah, Hortense,” said Patter casually, “I have need of your services. Are you and your team available?”

  “When?” answered Hortense, keeping his words to a minimum.

  “Immediately,” answered Patter, “We have a pest problem we need sorted. Standard emergency pay bonuses of course.”

  “Where?” asked Hortense, with no change of expression.

  Patter tapped a few buttons and said, “I have sent you the location. The NC planet has a primitive space ship which needs to not exist. After all NC creatures cannot have space flight.”

  “Agreed,” said Hortense and the screen cleared.

  Patter turned to Trotter, “Chatty fellow, isn’t he? There. Problem solved. Hortense should be there in two days. Let Scree know that she must delay any repositioning until after then so the vermin infestation is cleared. Go.”

  Trotter shook his head in agreement and left quickly.

  “Compliments of ARRG, indeed,” muttered Patter.

  He looked a little longer at his reports from Scree and decided to make a few calls to his friends in high places, especially those close to the Emperor.

  ****

  Scree received the specially coded Drop Pod and quickly opened it and read the message on the memory chip. She left her room and went straight to Toff’s office.

  ****

  Toff was leaning over his desk with Nelson beside him, pointing at the display on the desktop.

  “We move here and can get back to the location there,” said Toff.

  “The repairs are almost complete,” said Nelson, “We just need another part which is on the way.”

  “This is longer than the day Hendon wants, is it not?” Toff asked.

  “Yes,” answered Nelson, “The parts are under control of HTI Logistics. For some reason a coupe of critical parts were not in our spares and had to be ordered in.”

  Nelson looked at Toff and added, “Yes, I did check them before we left the base. As per our standard process, we do a full check of our emergency stock and the parts were there. But now they’re not.”

  The door chime sounded and Toff and Nelson stood as Toff pushed a button on his desk.

  With a swoosh, the door opened and Scree stepped in and walked up to Toff.

  “Toff,” she said in a shrill voice, “it will be three days before the missing parts arrive. I have done my best to expedite the transfer of parts but my hands are tied.”

  Toff sighed, “Very well. Nelson, let the HST fellows know. I hope our friends are still well on Dirt.”

  Scree turned and left Toff’s office. There. That will be enough time to clear away the problem.

  ****

  “Mr Cartwright, sir!” the intern shouted as Johnny Cartwright stepped purposefully down the corridor.

  “Yes, Kent?” said Johnny who took pride in knowing his employee’s names.

  Kent ran up to Johnny and said, “We have another test launch of our J rocket due in two days.”

  “Yes, I know that Kent,” said Johnny, “What about it?”

  “Can we rescue the astronauts in the ISS?”

  Johnny stood still and looked at Kent, “What? Why do they need rescuing?”

  Kent looked down at his tablet and looked back up at Johnny, “I’m on these forums sir, and this Australian guy with the name of JDownUnder is posting that the ISS is in danger from the aliens.”

  “How does he know that?” Johnny asked, “Anyone can post on the internet you know.”

  “Yes, sir, but JDownUnder has got very good cred. He has been right on top of the alien hunting party - he says they are from a Federation of Planets, or FOPs, and are using Earth as a hunting reserve. All his information has panned out. He says that a unit of ARRG has captured two of the hunters. For some reason the expected rescue unit of alien military has not come down yet. He has done the numbers, and we have confirmed them, and the ISS will be directly over the spot any rescue operation will have to be.” Kent said rapidly.

  “Why would they be in danger?” asked Johnny, considering the possibilities.

  “It looks like the alien ship which has been sending down the hunting parties has kept away from the ISS and we have not been able to spot it amongst the space debris. According to ISS records, another of their space ships was spotted just over a year ago and it was very stealthy. But the two are going to meet in about two or three days. We can’t see the ISS surviving Sir.”

  “Why don’t they just move their orbit?” asked Johnny, “They have thrusters and manoeuvring jets.”

  “They are only limited, “Kent said, “And we just checked our sources at NASA. They want to rescue their astronauts and it is on their schedule. Should take about three years at the ‘expedited’ rate of their current project.”

  Johnny snorted and thought for a short while. Kent waited, as were a number of other employees that just happened to be passing by. Johnny decided.

  “This is our first manned test of the J Rocket. Add three more seats and update the settings.”

  He tapped a button on his earphone and stood tall, “People! The next flight of our J Rocket will be more than a test. It will be a rescue mission. We will fly to the International Space Station and rescue the three astronauts. NASA says they will take three years. We launch in two days. All leave is cancelled. Let’s save those men!”

  Johnny then nodded at Kent and said, “Good work! Contact Bill and his team. Let’s make this happen!”

  He then strode to his office and thought, “I better make some calls and let everyone know so we can clear the skies for launch!”