by Isaac Hooke
It seemed only a matter of time until a third vessel arrived to lay claim to the last remaining habitable moon. Who could say how many more such craft the enemy had? There wasn’t much we could do against them. Each vessel possessed a sweeping, superheated coronal point-defense weapon similar to the coronal discharge of a star. The weapon was capable of incinerating anything sent against the Skull Ships, from nuclear torpedoes to supercarriers.
The hulls of the cranial-shaped ships comprised metallic lattices overlaid one atop the other, countless tiers deep. Some of those layers were relatively thin, like the uppermost regions, which resembled eye sockets. When those eye sockets were viewed under zoom, massed entities of glowing blue or purple could be seen beneath the thin, three-dimensional lattice.
These glowing entities were utterly alien to anything humankind had ever encountered. Known in official circles as species X25910, they were nicknamed Phants by the rest of us. Gaseous in the heatless and pressureless void of space, liquid in Earthlike environments, they were seemingly invulnerable. Phants had a peculiar ability to possess human-developed Artificial Intelligences, from those found in combat robots such as Centurions all the way up to the main AIs found aboard supercarriers such as the Gerald R. Ford.
Phants could also incinerate human beings on contact, jumpsuits and all, though most of them, colored blue, moved too slowly to be of much threat in that regard. Purple Phants, however, moved very fast. It was a purple Phant that had killed my best friend and platoon brother Alejandro. There were red Phants, too, which were capable of possessing a human in a process known as “integration,” whereby cybernetic components were grafted into the skulls and spines of a host.
Other than that, all we really knew about the alien species was their determination to convert our colonies into geronium, the radioactive fuel that powered all human starships. The conversion process was facilitated by creatures resembling giant slugs. These behemoths burrowed under a planetary surface, somehow transforming the crust into geronium in the process. The slugs had smaller, crab-like aliens attached to them whose roles seemed to vary between worker and protector, depending on the situation.
The harvesting process required a populated world—the unseen energy fields produced by life abetted the conversion in some way. The invaders had apparently conquered countless alien races before us, and could revive said races on demand to prepare and populate target worlds for harvesting, or to serve as Phant hosts. That humanity had hundreds of worlds already colonized was a big incentive to these aliens, as we saved them the population step of the process.
So far, the enemy had invaded only the two inhabited moons. But we couldn’t let them come any closer to Earth. We couldn’t allow any more innocent lives to be lost.
We had to stop them here, in this star system.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs took the podium at the front of the room. Fifteen years my senior, the officer in charge of Alfa and Bravo platoons, MOTH Team Seven, he still sported a full head of brown hair. He had the hard, angular face of an Olympian, with the toned body to match.
He appeared particularly anxious today. Normally, like most commanding officers, Lieutenant Commander Braggs had the uncanny ability to portray an outer facade of calm and unaffectedness no matter the circumstances. But even our unflappable Lieutenant Commander had lost his poise today, as he had done only two other times in the past. The first was when Bravo platoon had failed to report in when we’d originally encountered the Phants eight thousand lightyears away. The second time was when he announced the arrival of the original Skull Ship in our space.
The Lieutenant Commander cleared his throat. “Top SCS”—Special Collection Service—“analysts have been extensively poring over the logs of the offensives staged against the original invading ship, Bogey 1. Coming in at one-fourth the size of the Tau Ceti II-c moon, the ship is one hell of an object, with one hell of an electromagnetic signature. The analysts studied every last part of the EM spectrum associated with the vessel during those assaults, running the gamut from the visual down to the gamma ray level. And they noticed something.
“During the first offensive, orchestrated by the local Sino-Korean presence in Tau Ceti, incredible surges of energy were detected from Bogey 1 prior to each of its tactical maneuvers. These surges were not limited to the firing of the ship’s coronal weapon, which by itself created a massive surge, as might be expected.
“In the second offensive, while Alfa platoon dropped to the moon with the Marines in the operation known as Crimson Pipeline, the combined forces of the allied UC, FI, and SK fleet initiated a concentrated attack upon the enemy from orbit. The tip, or ‘chin,’ of Bogey 1 was partially embedded within the moon’s crust at that point, so the vessel could not maneuver during the assault. But that didn’t prevent the bogey, whose massive hull jutted—and continues to jut—several thousand klicks into space, from attacking. The bogey fired its coronal weapon methodically at the fleet, while at the same time venting Phants from its hull in an attempt to capture the human vessels. Incidentally, those portions of Bogey 1’s hull located within the moon’s mesosphere remained inactive during the battle, and did not contribute to the plasma outflow, probably because the enemy didn’t want to harm its assets in play on the Tau Ceti II-c surface. That was a good thing, because if it had fired into the atmosphere, Alfa platoon and the Marines down there with you likely would have been forced into a premature tactical retrograde. A hasty one.”
“We had a hasty enough retrograde as it was,” Chief Bourbonjack commented.
“Indeed. In any case, one big difference between this second offensive and the first was that the pulses of EM energy preceding the firing of the coronal weapon were sourced many klicks beneath the surface of the actual moon, rather than aboard Bogey 1 itself. Our analysts speculate that the EM bursts are emitted by a component that serves a crucial role in the command structure of Bogey 1. Based on partial data retrieved from the embedded ID logs of the recovered SK pilot Lana Wu, our analysts are calling this structure the ‘Observer Mind,’ and believe it is responsible for the tactical operation of the ship. The alien equivalent of our Combat Direction Center, if you will.”
I’d saved Lana from the alien being known as the Guide—a purple Phant that possessed an SK Artificial—a robot built by humanity to look identical to an actual human being, warts and all. The Guide claimed to be the official envoy to humanity, and had Lana interrogate Hijak and me aboard a captured SK frigate. Lana had been integrated with the alien species via a skull-and-spine graft, enabling a red Phant to control her mind. During our interrogation and torture, Hijak and I had spilled the passwords to our embedded IDs, giving the enemy access to all the audio and video feeds our Implants had recorded since we became MOTHs.
I rescued Lana from her possessing Phant, and we escaped with Hijak into the ring belt of Tau Ceti III, where ATLAS 6s attacked us. Before she died, Lana told me about some Observer Mind the Guide reported to, but claimed she wasn’t sure what it was. I guess we knew, now.
“I’ll note here that identical energy bursts are being detected in the heart of the second Skull Ship, Bogey 2, which slammed its ‘chin’ into the crust of our sister moon, Tau Ceti II-b, several days ago. The shipboard location of the energy bursts implies that Bogey 2’s Observer Mind has not yet transferred to the moon as Bogey 1’s has. With respect to why the Observer Mind vacated Bogey 1 in the first place, the SCS analysts are drawing a blank. But the current thinking is, if we destroy these Observer Minds, we cripple the ships. This corroborates with the data from Lana Wu’s embedded ID.
“Unfortunately, eliminating the targets won’t be easy. It doesn’t help that we don’t know what the Observer Minds actually look like. We have locations based on EM sourcing, nothing more. One target resides within the heart of a starship whose design and layout is completely unknown to us. The second rests deep within the alien nest under Shangde City on the opposite moon, wher
e the warrens swarm with hordes of deadly entities, including something else we’ve discovered recently. Something worse than slugs, crabs, and Phants.”
“Something worse?” Lui said dubiously. He was Asian American and, like Bomb and Manic, one of the official ATLAS 5 pilots on Alfa Platoon. “What’s worse than slugs, crabs, and Phants?”
The Lieutenant Commander pressed his lips together. “What you are about to see was picked up at an agricultural station several klicks outside Shangde City. It was recorded during Bogey 1’s initial invasion of Tau Ceti II-c.”
The vid feed from an open-air hydroponics bay replaced my vision, thanks to the Implant in my head. I saw rows of some kind of cereal crop, the long, sprouting yellow stalks arrayed side by side. Translucent pipes crisscrossed above each row, with nutrient tubes running down to the plants.
Black clouds filled the sky, and above those clouds, at the top of the heavens, I saw the dark, cranial upper half of the Skull Ship. The presence of those clouds implied a time frame only a few hours after Bogey 1 grafted to the moon.
A shape abruptly plummeted from the sky. I made out random appendages as it passed in and out of the clouds, and I had the impression it was far larger than the parts I observed. The nearby stalk of one of the cereal plants obscured the creature as it emerged from the cloud base near the horizon and I lost sight of the thing.
A wave of dust erupted not too far away and I knew the object had landed. The screen of particles expanded outward so that in moments I saw only darkness.
The dust began to clear. Seconds later, a towering, dark form emerged from the murk. Again, I had the impression I was witnessing only a fraction of the overall entity, despite the fact this “fraction” was as big as a football stadium. I caught only a one-second glimpse of the thing as it pummeled through the hydroponics bay toward the camera. My first thought was that I observed a small part of some superslug, but when the Lieutenant Commander replayed the recording at half speed, I realized the body was too bulbous to belong to a slug. Also, its surface was gelatinous, seeming to quiver as it moved. Slugs didn’t have skin like that.
The vid feed blinked out.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs ran his solemn gaze over the lot of us. “What you just saw was an alien entity more massive than any yet recorded. Some of our analysts believe it may be the progenitor of all alien life infesting the moon. The mother of the slugs and crabs, or the Queen, if you will.
“While your platoon was out trying to capture the Artificial known as the ‘Guide,’ we sent Bravo platoon to investigate the area where this vid was recorded. Bravo discovered a massive sinkhole where the hydroponics station once resided. The platoon followed the sinkhole for many klicks beneath the surface, until the passageway branched off into the warren of caves and tunnels that comprise the main alien nest beneath Shangde City. There Bravo dispatched seventy-five HS3 drones for mapping purposes, many of which remained behind at strategic points to act as network repeaters in an attempt to overcome the EM interference inherent to those tunnels. The HS3s mapped a good portion of the warren, though at great cost: Only three HS3s returned and Headhunter of Bravo platoon suffered a mortal wound.”
We dropped our chins at the mention of Headhunter. I’d missed his funeral because of my capture by the Guide, but even so, because of the classified nature of his op, no one else save the members of Bravo had known what had happened to him. And now that we knew, it only made his death all the harder to take. At least for me. Because he’d died getting us the mapping data we probably needed for our own mission.
Just as other good men and women had given their lives for us—for me—in the past.
But I was done grieving.
I was here to fight.
I was here to see my vengeance carried out.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs continued. “So this is the deal. Operation Potentate. Two alien targets. Two squads. That’s right, I’m splitting Alfa in half. Facehopper will lead Digger Squad, comprising Cyclone, Ghost, Trace, Mauler, TJ, Bomb, and Fret. Digger will be responsible for taking out Bogey 1’s Observer Mind, located beneath Shangde City on Tau Ceti II-c. The Queen will be your secondary target, and it may be guarding the Observer Mind. The weapon of choice will be two nuclear assets, ported by the team. Every member of Digger will pilot an ATLAS 5, as the map data retrieved from the HS3s indicates tunnels wide enough to support mechs.”
“What about the tunnels beyond the unmapped areas?” Fret said. The tall, lanky man was one of our resident communicators. Snakeoil, his direct opposite in build, was the second. “How do we know our mechs will fit in there?”
“Would you rather insert without ATLAS 5s?” Lieutenant Commander Braggs said. When Fret didn’t answer, he nodded. “Thought so. I’ll leave it up to Facehopper on how to proceed if the tunnels get too cramped for viable mech operation. While Digger is down there, two companies of UC Marines will stage diversionary attacks on the surface every six Stanhours to lure the horde from the tunnels. We want your path as free of enemy opposition as possible.
“The second squad, Outrigger, will be led by Chief Bourbonjack. Its members will be Rage, Bender, Hijak, Skullcracker, Lui, Manic, and Snakeoil. Outrigger’s mission will be to eliminate the Observer Mind located inside Bogey 2, which is currently grafted to the opposite moon, Tau Ceti II-b. Outrigger will insert wearing jumpsuits only and will cut into the alien ship near an unguarded plasma vent. The squad will carry one nuclear asset, which will be ported to the vicinity of the Observer Mind. Our analysts don’t believe you will find a Queen aboard the vessel because slugs and crabs have already been reported on the surface of Tau Ceti II-b, and as mentioned, the Queen is thought to be the progenitor.
“Once Outrigger and Digger squads have successfully inserted, the fleet will stage a full-blown assault against both Bogey 1 and 2 from orbit, providing a secondary diversion in space.”
“Wait a second,” Fret said. “A diversion in orbit is fine and all that, but I’m going to assume Digger Squad will need more than just a diversion and a few ATLAS mechs to get past the horde you mentioned. And Outrigger, wearing only jumpsuits, has it even worse. For one thing, if we meet any Phants, we’ll be incinerated on the spot. This is a direct-action operation, isn’t it? You know—stealth, avoiding enemy resistance, and the like.”
“It is a direct-action operation, and both squads will need more than diversions, yes,” the Lieutenant Commander said. “Thanks to data obtained from Lana Wu’s embedded ID, the jumpsuits of both squads will be rigged to emit an exact replica of the EM signatures Phants give off. For all intents and purposes you will be indistinguishable from the alien entities, or at least human beings possessed by them. We’re going to graft steel bars onto the insides of your jumpsuits, just behind your backs, and those bars will house the necessary emitters. Uncomfortable as hell, but to other Phants you should seem like one of them—human hosts serving their kind.”
“Is there empirical evidence that these bars actually work?” Fret said. “We’ve tested them in the field, right?”
Lieutenant Commander Braggs frowned. “We’ve only tested them in the lab so far, unfortunately. We have two Phants under containment, blue ones, imprisoned via the holding cell design the SKs shared. We prepared the aforementioned jumpsuits and sent human volunteers into the cells. Those wearing the modified suits were able to pass unnoticed, while those in the unmodified suits had to get out. Fast.”
“So how do we know the other Phant types won’t catch on to this trick?” I said. “The purple ones? The red ones? And how do we know the blue Phants weren’t just pretending that the suits deterred them?”
The Lieutenant Commander met my eyes firmly and unapologetically. “We don’t.”
Trace spoke up. He was East Indian, Bengali to be exact. Best sniper I’d ever met. Though I was right behind him in terms of skill, with Ghost and Hijak a close third and fourth. “I understand why Outrigg
er has to go directly inside Bogey 2,” Trace said. “Our torpedoes can’t get through the coronal point-defense weapon. But as for Digger Squad, why can’t we just drop a nuclear payload on Shangde City? Or dispatch one into the warrens using that sinkhole you talked about? Seems easier to me.”
The Lieutenant Commander smiled ironically. “A week ago Brass decided Shangde City was unsalvageable and ordered a nuclear strike in an attempt to disable the Observer Mind. The missiles skimmed the moon’s surface on approach, avoiding detection by Bogey 1 and the city’s defenses. The impact and resulting detonation went according to plan.
“It didn’t help. While we took out the surface defenses, including many robots and ATLAS mechs, the blast didn’t penetrate deep enough underground. We might have caused a few cave-ins, but that’s it, and the buried slugs simply bored their way out. Through it all the EM waves indicative of the Observer Mind continued to pulse without interruption. It was like driving a tractor over an ant colony—we flattened the surface but did nothing to the colony underneath. And we can’t actually fire a torpedo directly into the warrens because we don’t have a guidance system fine-grained enough to navigate tunnels of that nature. Not without detonating prematurely.”
“One of our highly maneuverable drones could do it,” Fret said. “Or an ATLAS 5 in AI mode. Stuff one of those EM emitters you mentioned inside and set it loose.”
Lieutenant Commander Braggs nodded slowly. “We considered dispatching the nuke with a fully automated team of ATLAS 5s embedded with Phant-mimicking EM emitters, but in the end the Brass decided they wanted real men in there. They wanted MOTHs. And I agreed with them.”
“As do I,” Bender said. “Not gonna let some damn robot do my job.” The well-muscled black man barely fit his uniform. He wasn’t wearing any of his usual items of jewelry—not to this briefing.