Green Belt
Captain D eyed the modified blasters with a critical gaze as he professionally examined the one in his grip. His thumb hesitated over the safety, temptation to flip it off briefly stirring and flitting away just as quickly. The sleek silver design and blue glow pulsing along the barrel gave the gun an aesthetically pleasing appearance, but practicality remained his sole concern.
"And you're sure this will work?" he asked, voice stern and slightly disbelieving.
The Venusian clicked his mandibles, and the translator crackled to life. "Of course, each Pulser VI was tested before shipping. I myself oversaw the process."
While Venusians were renown for their shady black markets and floating mercenary cities, they prided themselves on their weapon quality. How they gained the materials to manufacture them remained unclear. But seeing the dealer before him bristle with bruised pride, Captain D nodded surely.
"I'll take all you have, including those big ones you have stowed in the back."
If it were possible, the Venusian would have given him a toothy smile, but he could only click happily instead as they made the exchange.
"Always a pleasure doing business with our sister planet."
"Pleasure's mine," D replied, though a warning glint entered his eyes, promising retribution should the deal be any less than honest.
When the human captain finally left the market, the Venusian weapons dealer sagged in relief and began counting his coin. He enjoyed making deals just as much as the next Venusian, but humans always sent a shiver down his thorax.
.....
Captain Matthew Dunkirk, known to crew and company as Captain D, scanned the barren wastes of Vesta—a Neptune-sized planet with massive islands of hard stone and seas of lava that drifted only three light jumps away from his home solar system. After humanity joined the Galactic Alliance, the Vestans made their disgust of Earth's people vehemently known, and the captain could confidently say he felt the same about them.
But only now could he act on it, when dozens of trade and civilian ships manned by humans started disappearing near Vesta's atmosphere. When the first ransom call came into the GA's headquarters, demanding wealth and resources in return for the poor fledgling humans' safe return, Earth took it as a personal insult and declaration of war.
Humanity may have joined the Alliance as a desire for peace, but they were not prey. Humans were warriors by nature, and it was time they reminded the rest of the galaxy of what happens when others threaten their own.
Captain D didn't look away when Lieutenant Horace came beside him. Neither man said anything at first as they stared through the wall of glass separating the viewing deck from the potential war zone ahead. They landed with little fanfare, and the lack of, well, any reaction from the Vestans caused the captain to twirl his blond mustache out of habit. Horace side-eyed his captain but turned back to the window when he received no response.
"You know," he began, a thin smile tugging at his lips, "when we finally learned what could blast these big lizards, I didn't expect them to go runnin' for the hills. Any fighter worth his salt would've stood his ground, and they shoulda known who'd they be messin' with."
D shook his head at the familiar Southern drawl. Even way out in space where no oceans separated their people, his British mind couldn't help but scoff Americans.
"You're right," he agreed simply instead and straightened his shoulders. The humor bled out of Horace's face, and something much darker took its place.
"My younger cousin was onboard one of the first trade ships to be taken. She's been like a kid sister to me since kindergarten. If they tried any funny business with her, I'll blow 'em all to kingdom come. I might do it anyway just in case." The lieutenant shot him a lopsided smile than reminded D a little too much of a hungry wolf. "Ya don't mess with a man's family."
"Right you are, Lieutenant. Get everyone ready. If the Vestans won't come to greet us, we should send them a proper hello."
Horace saluted. "On it, sir."
Within the next hour, everyone aboard the Trident's Star marched out of the ship with guns loaded and eyes sharp. Once everyone departed from the ship, the hatch was closed. And for a moment, the only sound drifting in the air was the bubbling gurgle of a lava pool and the popping hiss of nearby stones overheating.
One of the men fired his pulser into the open air, the deafening sound lacing through the stifling heat. Now it was just a matter of time.
Captain D narrowed his gaze when he spotted movement on the horizon. One body became twenty. Twenty turned to two hundred. The Vestans were here, and they didn't have the kidnapped humans with them.
"Drummer!" D called to the man stationed in an otherworldly cruiser lined with amps and speakers. "Light 'em up!"
"Aye, sir!" Drummer replied with a smile, "Let's drop the beat!"
D almost laughed when he heard what the Vestans' weakness was. For all of their flaunting and posturing, the right sound frequency would make them crumple, leaving them open for any attack. Drummer—a techie and former DJ—reconfigured their cruiser into a sound booth.
A heavy bass line rocketed forward, sending a pulse through the captain's body and crashing into the first line of Vestans like a roll of bowling pins. Drummer cackled from his console and set a steady beat, and with each chord another line of scaly brown Vestans slumped to the ground. The rest of the crew handled any stubborn ones.
Drummer got to work and morphed the beat into something akin to a electric pop song, playing with the different frequencies to make the attack both effective and catchy. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave him with the big guns.
Captain D pulled himself away from the spectacle and focused on the Vestan staggering towards him with its club. He almost shot it in the head, but instead he took out the club and rammed the butt of his gun into its slanted nose.
"Where are they?" he demanded, "Where are you keeping them?"
A bass chord rumbled, rattling his rib cage and causing his quarry to stumble, but D wasn't about to let him go down that easy.
"Where. Are. The. Humans?" he growled again, blasting the Vestans clawed hand. He needn't have bothered. The thing was swiping three feet to the right of him.
Hissed and clicks were his only reply, and the captain but it out of its misery. Sweat dribbled down D's stubbles chin as he looked up. The planet's two suns dipped on the edge of the horizon, threatening to disappear, and at the same time he saw a metal door carved into the side of a mountain ridge.
Well, the pesky beasts had to come from somewhere, and he could easily wager where his kidnapped people were being kept.