Switch: Alien Invasion/Violence&S*x

Chapter 160: Talking babies

"Even if we die in a couple of days, I am glad to have met you," she says dreamily, a mixture of satisfaction and profound gratitude radiating from her expression like sunlight breaking through clouds. "Thank you."

I smile back, feeling the warmth of her words wrap around me like a gentle caress. "Thank you. Believe me, the feeling is mutual." The connection forged in that moment, both of pleasure and near tragic inevitability, sews a bond between us, one that feels unbreakable, even against the threat of uncertainties that lurk just beyond the horizon of our shared existence in the vast and endless space that surrounds us.

*****

"How are things going?" I ask the retired Sergeant Major as I step into Vage’s large, featureless blue room. I really need to come up with a more fitting name for this room. The Deck? No, that sounds too much like a vessel on water. Command Center? Hmm, now that might just work. So, I walk into Vage’s newly dubbed Command Center, a place that seems to hum with purpose, yet lacks the vibrant clutter usually associated with military headquarters.

A hologram of Leslie beams into view, demonstrating various martial arts forms with deft precision. Her movements are fluid, exuding both confidence and strength as she repeats the sequences for a large group of trainees gathered around her. The group mirrors her actions, and I can’t help but observe how their movements become progressively more synchronized and fluid with each repetition, embodying a seamless blend of effort and discipline.

"Those tiny machines we acquired are giving these dirtbags greater stamina," Sergeant Major Wilson comments with a hint of nostalgia in his voice, nodding appreciatively as he watches the group toil away. "I’ll tell you what, if we’d had a setup like this during my last deployment, the war would have been over in less than a week! Hell, even I feel ten years younger." He glances around the room furtively, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "What’s the deal with the shiny naked broads?"

I can’t help but laugh at his bluntness. "If you want, we can get you a suit like that." However, before he has time to respond, I tap into the comms link to Vage. ’Umm, can we arrange for enough light-suits to outfit everyone? It’ll offer a lot more protection in any upcoming skirmishes.’

’All ships are working on it,’ comes the calm yet efficient reply.

"Me, walk around all but naked? No thanks. Nobody wants to see my crusty old ball dangling down," Wilson quips, adding a layer of humor typical of seasoned soldiers. I wonder about the singular "ball" but decide that some mysteries are better left unsolved, especially those involving hairy old men.

"You may not have a choice," I respond earnestly. "They do provide significantly more protection, and if it means saving lives, I’ll make it happen."

He nods slowly, albeit he raises an eyebrow and asks, "Aren’t you concerned it might be distracting? I mean, I know you’re used to such things, but the rest of these kids aren’t?"

I look out over the diverse group of "kids"—a blend of young adults pushed into rapid maturity by circumstance—and realize he is indeed correct. The atmosphere of focused training is palpable, but it’s clear that this environment might not be as accepted by all. "I’ll leave that to you, Sergeant Major, to organize them into groups. Separate males from females if necessary, but I want them as protected as possible. Their lives are my second highest priority."

He gives me a sharp nod, and it strikes me as odd to be issuing commands to someone with his level of experience—a grizzled military man who has seen and done more than I can comprehend. For that matter, referring to this group of trainees as a bunch of kids feels rather surreal. I can’t shake the feeling that I have somehow aged a hundred years, having lost touch with the vibrancy of youth that once seemed eternal.

Wilson steps back a couple of paces, then turns, his demeanor shifting as curiosity overtakes him. "Excuse me, sir, but what is your top priority?" His penetrating gaze holds mine, full of expectation.

"To stop the demons at all costs," I declare steadfastly, my voice unwavering as I hold his stare with resolve.

A flicker of a smile betrays his tough facade before he nods once more, turning his attention to a couple of trainees who seem to be slacking off rather conspicuously, taking unauthorized breaks instead of pushing through the exercises that Leslie’s hologram diligently demonstrates. "Get in line, you lily-livered, yellow-bellied slackers!" he bellows, unleashing the fiery spirit of a seasoned, no-nonsense leader.

Ah, kids... When did I become the elder statesman in the room?

I make my way toward Vage’s quarters and find her breastfeeding one of our children. She looks haggard, her beauty momentarily dulled by fatigue. "Is everything all right?" I ask concernedly, noting the worry lines etched into her brow.

’Yes, my body is fine,’ she assures me, though her voice carries a weight that implies otherwise. ’But managing the ship with so many aboard and creating the suits and weapons is taxing my mind.’ I feel a twinge of guilt for not fully understanding the magnitude of her burdens.

She looks up at me, and even in the low, warm light, I can see her smile, a small yet precious beacon of warmth amidst the chaos. ’Harana should be here shortly, and then I can rest and recuperate.’

"Do you need me to leave so I’m not distracting you?" I offer, peering into her large, silvery eyes, hoping to gauge her need for solitude.

’Sit with me and keep me company. You are a pleasant distraction,’ she replies affectionately, and my heart swells with warmth at her words. I take a seat next to her, content to share her space in silence as she continues nursing, after a few mins she finishes breastfeeding one of our sons and hands him to me to rock.

I marvel once again at the miracle of life before me, how small and delicate he is, I cannot help but think it is cute when he stretches and yawns, showing his two tongues—a quirk that both intrigues and amuses me, a small reminder of his heritage.

Vage gets up and walks slowly to the other room, returning with our daughter and latching her onto the other breast, their bond palpable.

’Last one,’ she communicates to me, and I reach over, intertwining my fingers with my baby girl three-fingered hand. She looks at our hands, confused for a moment, then smiles and gives it a little squeeze.

We sit together in a tranquil silence, enveloped by the soft sounds of our children feeding. When our daughter finishes, I gently rise and carry both children back to their cozy blankets, laying them down carefully, cherishing the warmth of the moment. Just as I’m about to step away, our son, the one I had just held, opens his bright eyes and locks his gaze onto mine.

’Be at ease, Father. We know your pains. Some will die in the coming battle, but we think you will survive.’ The resonance of their voices booms inside my mind like thunder, so powerful that I struggle to comprehend them.

Think? They "think" I’ll survive? That is a little reassuring, I suppose.

Suddenly, I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump in surprise at Vage’s sudden presence.

’I don’t understand,’ she tells me through the nanites, her curiosity laced with concern.

In realization, I discern that I’ve been broadcasting again, voicing my anxieties out loud without meaning to. Looking back at our children, I see they are all fast asleep... or perhaps pretending to be so.

’They just spoke to me again,’ I send to Vage, still feeling the impact of their words. ’They said they think I will survive the battle.’

’They are too young to speak, and they do not possess the small machines necessary for communication,’ she responds, a shadow of disbelief crossing her face. ’I fear we are both overworked and perhaps a little delusional. Harana is out there, keeping the ship steady. Let’s prioritize getting some rest together.’

"But I... but..." My protest trails off as I shake my head, bewildered. I just woke up not long ago, I can’t be that tired already, can I?

Vage takes my hand gently in hers, guiding me to a pile of blankets that offer warmth and comfort. I cast one last glance at our six sleeping children, noticing the boy with the silvery eyes wink at me. I am tempted to point this out to the alien next to me, but she is already asleep.

I lie there beside the ethereal mother of my children, yet sleep evades me. Silently, I walk over to the six little forms nestled in their blankets. Bending down, I whisper to them, "One day, I will understand you," both saying it aloud and sending the sentiment through the nanites deep into their minds.

But they did not even twitch.