The Ungrel Invasion

Photo by Jesse Echevarria on Unsplash

FLASH Writing Challenge 100 – Day 1

I feel like I’m walking back home along the rim of the galaxy.

I know! Melodramatic right? But it’s how I feel.

When the Ungrels landed their ships on the White House lawn back in 2047, we knew something was very wrong. There had been too many questions left unanswered. Why hadn’t we attacked them? What did they want? How did they possibly know that of all the places to land on earth, the White House is probably the most fear-inducing? Such a tactic shows intelligence. It shows cunning, audacity, boldness, and confidence.

In retrospect not attacking them, had likely been wise. The disparity between their intelligence/strength and ours was rather vast. It was like the gap between us and chickens. If you can imagine any scenario where chickens would win a battle with men, any battle, then you’re probably cut from a different cloth.  

The Ungrels were much further evolved than we were. From what scientists can gather their species had probably developed widespread telekinetic powers about the same time the first protozoans began crawling from the oceans, on their way to becoming Homo sapiens.

We farm and process chickens to suit our needs. The Ungrels felt no reluctance in using us similarly. We were farmed. I can’t say we were enslaved. A slave you give orders to. A slave you converse with. But we were never communicated with. We were simply corralled into cages, and shipped back to their home planet.

We weren’t the ‘help.’ We were dinner. Specifically, dinner for their offspring. We were like a McDonald’s happy meal for their kids. It was awful.

The gravity on their planet was punishing on our biologies. Many of the older humans didn’t make it. But none of our sufferings compares to the fate that awaited young, fertile females. They became breeders. The parents, apparently, weren’t too keen on having to drive back and forth across the galaxy to get their kids’ lunch apparently and so they adopted a near human-level of cruelty level solution. Breeding us to make more of us.

How we escaped isn’t something that interests me a great deal. Nor, if I’m being honest, do I understand it entirely. Most of what we can work out is that a faction of the Ungrels was opposed to the exploitation of our species (that came in the form of ‘eating us’) and they became the resistance. Ungrel vegetarians?

Their language wasn’t something that any of us survivors could ever learn. All we knew is we went from the sterile, white containment cages and facilities on their planet to being allowed to roam free on their interstellar ship which was, we had assumed, headed back to our solar system. They treated us like a mob of untrained puppies, while they shuttled us to wherever they were taking us.

The Ungrels had pointed expansively at the map of the system where they were dropping us off. They tried instructing us in how to pilot the little ships they had put us in but it was all utterly alien to us. Luckily for us, the ships seem to mostly function on auto-pilot.

I am a pilot on one of the ships they gave us, and I’ve managed to figure out some of the controls. We have no communications with the other ships of freed humans – or we have the capability, but the Ungrels just forgot to teach us how to use it.

The others, in my keeping, on ‘my’ ship, have agreed with me. Slow and steady is the way to return to earth. The Ungrels hadn’t taken all humans from earth. So if we just sail up in our fancy alien craft, without communicating who we are, they might shoot first and ask questions later. We have no idea what to expect once we arrive home, on earth.

So, we are sidling up to earth.

When we get close enough, I will have to see if I can land this thing. While avoiding whatever armament the armies of the world will surely unleash on us if and when, they see us.

We must approach with stealth and caution. If I could mount a white flag on the hull, I would!

In the meantime, we are gingerly walking home along the rim of the galaxy.

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