Why Humans Make Bad Pets!

What makes one Human II

Dear Journal,

What makes someone Human?

Because I feel like I lost it.

Once Turkey managed to grasp what I was doing, he fell quickly into line, and we doubled our rate of bombardment, sending pairs of drop ships at a time to their doom. I guess seeing your only method of getting off of a planet fall from the sky and land in enemy territory tends to grab one's attention, because it wasn't long before a couple of squads from our team showed up. Had their vehicles not been floating above the ground in perhaps the greatest killjoy of the galaxy, they would have been able to angrily tear into the clearing which Turkey and myself were rapidly depleting of drop ships.

As it was, they still managed to hum like a herd of disgruntled cows, which, if you've ever seen such a spectacle, is no laughing matter. Cows can be mean if displeased. I knew the powers that were probably wouldn't be too happy with us shooting off their only mode of exoatmospheric transportation, but Turkey had said they wanted an orbital strike, and if this didn't suffice then they were just too gosh darn picky.

I knew my excuses wouldn't mean jack as far as discipline was concerned, but it still felt good to make them in my head. Since I was sure I was about to be the first soldier to die by a firing squad composed entirely of tank, which would suck to no end, my shock was palpable when the other squads hopped out of their vehicles, took one look at what we were doing, then started to emulate us.

Drop ships were soon clogging the air in their eagerness to throw themselves against the enemy. Accordingly, the ground in the direction of the enemy boiled with impacts, and I felt a detached sense of pity for the guys stuck over there. Something about that feeling didn't feel right, although I couldn't tell you why.

Putting the troubling thoughts from my mind in my most basic and practiced mental maneuver, I set myself to the task of finding even more drop ships to give as gifts unto the enemy. They seemed to be enjoying it, as their shouts of overwhelming joy and jubilation reached my eager ears. They were so happy!

After nearly 30 minutes of concerted effort, we had destroyed nearly all of the three troopship's worth of drop ships. We still had the vehicle drop ships, and I had already started towards the closest one, when I heard an unintelligible shout that rang with unmistakable authority.

Turning to look at its source, I saw the most frightening figure. It wasn't that tall for an alien, though it was still slightly taller than me. It had six arms and two legs, was covered in a brown exoskeleton, and had two prominent pincers like those of an ant jutting from its face. Really, I thought those ant-lizards (lizard-ants? One or the other, choose whichever you prefer) had looked like insects, but this guy looked like the lovechild of a giant ant and a spider spawned from the depths of hell.

Intimidating as his visage was, it wasn't his appearance that frightened - or perhaps fascinated - me, or even the fact that he was holding two anti-tank pulse guns at the same time, which I'd never seen any other alien accomplish, as the guns were apparently heavy by xeno standards. Rather, it was the aura of unstoppable determination that this alien seemed to exude. It didn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular, it just seemed to be there.

It took me a moment before I realized that I had felt that feeling before. It was the same feeling you felt every single day on earth. The idea that everyone had a single goal in life they would give everything to achieve. The feeling of being alive. The aura surrounding every human who hadn't given up completely. The essence of resilience. I hadn't even realized that essence seemed to be missing from every alien I had seen so far, but now, shown in sharp contrast, I was able to recognize for the first time what nearly every one of them I had met seemed to lack.

They were alive, certainly, but so many seemed to merely wish to survive. I hoped humans weren't the only ones in this galaxy with the opposite mindset, because if they were space was ultimately going to rather boring. Still, even if most of his brethren have backbones of gelatin, I knew I wouldn't want to cross Demon Dude here lightly.

Whatever it was that he had shouted, it made everyone stop firing off drop ships like kids in charge of the fireworks on the fourth of July and start heading back to the vehicles they had arrived in. I followed Turkey to our borrowed vehicle and hopped into the passenger seat, as he was occupying the driver’s side and glaring at me with a look that told me he would never willingly let me drive him anywhere again. I didn't mind. I don't think I could have withstood the disappointment of using that iPhone-slide-to-unlock lame-ass excuse for an accelerator again, anyways.

As we started in convoy across the battlefield once again, my only hope was that this battle was nearly over. It had been a long day.