[ WP ] A sci-fi story where humanity are the monsters .

The tanks were rolling across the nighttime desert. The treads of the new R-3 Atlas were crushing the sand dunes undertow. Cpt. Claiborne sat behind the driver, inspecting the rifle in his hands. 
 
 `` Sir, we're comin' up on one now!'' The driver shouted out. Good, Claiborne thought, the dumb bastard wo n't know what hit em. 
 
 Tarik Han'Estrater sat alone at his camp, a modest cattle skin tent and a fire to warm his stew. Aperback stew was a rare delicacy on Vostrom, and Tarik had the privilege of trying it for the first time tonight. He took the small metal pan from atop the fire and began pouring it into his bowl. As he set it down, he found the earth below him shaking. 
 
 He looked around in terror, and found a series of small black figures crawling over a dune to his right. He could n't tell what they were, but there were at least ten of them. Were they, Tarik thought, the returning Hannite army? No, they were in no war. The black figure looked closer, and Tarik found them to be giant vehicles of some sort. Was it another tribe from the other side of Vostrom, coming to claim peace? He grabbed the pan again, and walked his way towards the vehicles. They stopped in front of him. The side door of the front vehicle opened up, and a strange figure walked out. He had n't seen this type of thing before. It stood on two legs like himself, yes, but it had must have had some disability, thought Tarik, for it was missing their head spike, if it were a male. 
 
 He still approached. 
 
 `` Keeyah a siraih!'' Tarik said, the standard Hannite greeting. The figure approached him. 
 Claiborne looked at the scrawny Hannite with disgust. How could they have let these vermin thrive so long here? He left his rifle in the tank, so he drew his pistol. 
 Tarik grew unwary, and turned to walk away. Claiborne felt disrespected. 
 
 `` Hey, spike head! Do n't you dare turn around on me you son of a bitch.'' 
 He raised his pistol. The targeting sight on the end laid on Tarik's head. Tarik had n't stopped. He did not want to be here. He just wanted to eat his stew and sleep the rest of the week. He had n't asked for these strange men to come. 
 The pistol gave a loud report as Claiborne pulled the trigger. Tarik's body jerked, then slumped down into the sand. It settled for a moment, then became still. The sand around him had turned red. 
 `` Alright. That's one rat down, how many more to go?'' Claiborne said, putting the pistol back into his holster. The tank driver leaned out the door. 
 `` Sir! We've got a small village coming up ahead. Thermals read at least twenty five.'' 
 
 Claiborne smiled. Twenty five thousand more of these? It was almost too easy. Most of them were probably women and children anyway. 
 He climbed back into the tank, and the armor division rolled silently across the desert towards the small village of Han. 
 Estrater's wife was worried. Tarik was supposed to transmit three minutes ago. Where was he? 
 
 She stopped thinking, for at that moment, a series of black dots came across the hill.
