by Mars Dorian
Tavio shuddered inside his gear. The core oozed the creepiness of a cybernetic grave and belonged to a creepy fiction feed. A quick look at the captain’s ground-pounder showed a similar reaction; Bellrog’s eyes scanned the area like a hunter expecting to get ambushed.
“Look,” Eriksun said. “The drone is trying to connect with us again.”
The floating organism from before projected a new set of holograms into the surrounding. The motion images featured a star grid and magnified a planet in the unknown cluster. The new world glistened and magnified. A cybernetic cocoon cluster weaved through the planet’s terrestrial surface. Angular and curved scrapers reached for the alien sky, linked to each other via shifting tubes. Flying crafts followed invisible skyways and parked on scraper airpads.
Tavio recognized the architecture and the citizens who had built it—they were Yuugen, or at least some similar version.
“Why are you showing us this?”
The mantis-like crane refrained from producing more sound fragments but shifted its upper frame which could be seen as a reaction to the captain’s answer. The thing panned toward a row of tubes and produced an odd barrage of sounds. Tavio swapped confused glances with his team before he followed the crane. He looked at the direction the frame body was pointing at and gasped. Inside the biotech tubes with the semi-transparent hulls lay Yuugen. Organic cables connected these units to the shell and functioned like a life support system. Tavio passed the next row of tubes and found it even more Yuugen of various types.
Was the entire core hall filled with them?
“Are they dead or alive?”
“Dead… alive…” the crane creature said with a fading hiss, as it shadowed the captain’s movement with deadly accuracy.
Tavio threw a disturbed glance at the doctor. “What is going on here?”
Eriksun investigated a tube up close and scanned its inside. “There’s slight movement in their upper chests and throats which suggests they’re alive. I’m guessing the Yuugen are kept in stasis.”
She marched up the steep path to the next rows with confidence. The doctor had forgotten she was inside a hostile alien carrier. Her fear had succumbed to the curiosity of the unknown. “Sir, you better see this.”
Tavio and Bellrog kept up with her speed, and so did the mantis-like crane.
The captain’s mind rioted when he saw the contents of the next tube. Another life form lurked inside. Much bigger than the Yuugen, blessed with a different body structure. A broad build with rocky skin dominated the biped, reminiscent of reptiles from Earth. The head of the creature hid under a bony helmet shield that merged with the flesh.
Bellrog’s face squeezed at the sight. “Looks like we hit the jackpot of the freak show. Creepers collecting creepers.”
Eriksun’s eyes marveled at the semi-transparent hulls of the pods. “This chamber alone carries enough xeno diversity which could lead to a new understanding of the galaxy and its origins. Every scientist of the Alliance must see these specimen.”
“Maybe the Verge will lend you some.”
Dr. Eriksun let her gaze wander around the massive orb-shaped hall. “Perhaps they’re objects of a museum. Perhaps the Verge is collecting different alien races and selectively preserving them.”
“Sick,” Bellrog said with his scattergun trained.
Tavio feared triggering the semi-organic crane, but it simply circled around them with no emotional reaction. The cyborg creature seemed patient, as if it wanted the humans to find out the story behind its purpose. But holographic footage and stored creatures weren’t enough to bring sense to the enigma.
“Why are you storing these lifeforms?” Tavio said with his face shield raised to focus on the body frame of the crane.
Maybe it was ludicrous to expect an answer, but the Verge had been oddly cooperative so far.
“Preparrrring,” the organism replied.
A sudden jolt jerked through Tavio’s limbs.
Hold on, if the Verge is collecting sentient life, does it mean we’re next?
69//On-board the artillery cruiser
Quintan Alterra cracked his fingers when his artillery cruiser Second Eye of Horus entered the sector of exoplanet E405. Despite the ongoing gym training and the simulation missions, the side effects of the stims still battered his brain. Quintan felt the full effect of vertigo while his innards desperately tried to release fluids through his gamut. The lack of space-faring had weakened his tolerance. Pathetic, but as a reinstated fleet officer, he had to look and act accordingly, so Quintan straightened his limbs and moaned like somebody waking from a nap. For better or worse, not one of the surrounding key lieutenants paid attention to him as their eyes stayed glued to their consoles or the view screen. The on board AI had matched the speed of Rykan’s flagship as she led the division with the most upgraded cruiser of them all.
Quintan swallowed down the jealousy and focused on the target destination. The giant terrestrial exoplanet E405 magnified on the view screen as the probes of the flagship investigated the orbit. The planet seemed harmless, with its color mesh of fruity greens and earthy browns. A potential world ripe for terraforming once the alien threat was taken care of.
Quintan erected his spine and felt the adaptable seat moving along with it. “What are the long-range sensors saying, RIO?”
The Radar Intercept Officer pulled up the required information on his console. “An unknown ship is orbiting E405 with an average distance of about thirty-three thousand kilometers.”
The live recording of the sat probes transferred their findings. Quintan couldn’t avert his eyes from the monstrosity magnifying on the screen. An alien behemoth carrier with a crystalline frame circumvented the exoplanet like a titanic thorn. Quintan was educated enough to never believe in a simplistic concept like pure evil, but with the current horror smearing his view, he was willing to change his mind. His brother Tavio’s last report had mentioned yet another hostile lifeform called the Verge which had unleashed a cybernetic ground force from its carrier.
Quintan didn’t seem to be the only one thinking in absolute terms—a quick glance around the bridge told him his officers were eagerly appalled. “Are we in communication range with the SAS Moonshot?”
“I can neither pick up the holotracer nor the comm signal of the Moonshot,” the RIO said and faced the colonel with worrying eyes. “They’ve disappeared.”
He swapped some menus flickering with colorful displays and numbers. “Maybe they’ve landed planetside.”
Silence impregnated the air. Quintan wiped his mouth and stared at the astral abomination. “When did we receive the Moonshot’s last report?”
“About eleven and half standard hours ago,” the comm officer said.
Quintan closed his eyes. A terrifying thought snuck up from the hinterlands of his mind.
It couldn’t be, but maybe…
He swallowed down his bitter tasting spit. “Maybe the Moonshot was shut down.”
Every officer inside the bridge stared at Quintan with a flabbergasted face. “Sir?”
“The Moonshot is a space-only vessel which wasn’t constructed to break the dense atmosphere of a terrestrial planet like E405.”
“Maybe it has returned to the sol system,” the comm officer said.
“Without a time stamp check? Impossible.”
Tavio would know better. Military protocols ruled space traffic conduct. The Alliance had discharged officers for ignoring sending reports. When distances reached billions of kilometers, communication became vital for long-range planning and providing security.
“If that Verge lifeform is as dangerous as the last report has stated, we have to face the possibility that it has eliminated the SAS Moonshot.”
Quintan was surprised at the cool delivery of his statement. But weeks in space and daily training had prepared him for the doom scenario. The dark void of the universe ranked as the cruelest territory known to mankind. Technology and training could help face the dangers of s
pace-faring into unknown quadrants, but death lingered over one’s shoulder like an invisible scythe.
The silence of the bridge ushered into a defeated acceptance. Quintan could tell the mood shifted in his favor.
Brigadier General Rykan echoed over the intercom. “Lieutenant Colonel Alterra, we have no reading of the SAS Moonshot, but the Verge carrier is towering in E405’s exoplanet and, judging by the last report, it poses a threat.”
She basically regurgitated everything he had already told his bridge. “Priorities have shifted, Lieutenant Colonel. The number one objective is the carrier.”
Quintan wanted to add his own wisdom. “Since we still don’t know what we’re dealing with, ma’am, we should avoid a close range combat at all costs.”
Since Rykan used audio mode only, Quintan pictured her in 3D pleading for his advice. He forced gravity into his words. “I suggest using our ARCs while the element of surprise is still on our side.”
Rykan waited for the response.
The RIO forced himself into the conversation. “This might be the only alien vessel of its kind, ma’am. Do you think the Alliance would appreciate an extinction upon first contact?”
What a shill, Quintan thought. Pretending to worry about science and progress when human lives were on the line. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, Lieutenant.”
“Sorry, sir.”
His voice lowered to mouse levels. Quintan took charge of the intercom conversation. “This hostile alien has almost eradicated our Alliance comrades on the exoplanet, ma’am. And God knows what calamity might happen if that abomination enters our solar system.”
Rykan’s hesitation startled him. He knew the optimal engagement with the hostile. You never take chances on something unknown powerful enough to eradicate your race. Never ever.
“Lieutenant Colonel Alterra is right,” Rykan finally said to his satisfaction.
Quintan chuckled, unlike the RIO, who looked as if he was about to dissect a kitten. “Show me a 3D schematic scan of the Verge ship and localize its thruster system. As long as surprise is on our side, I want to hit it where it hurts.”
The Verge ship carried an exotic design by human standards, but the laws of physics applied. The propulsion system of the foreign ship offered the perfect target—an immobile carrier posed no threat to the Alliance division.
Aim, fire, forget.
Quintan observed the 3D model of the hostile Verge ship and noticed the thruster location immediately. Similar to human ships, it reared the elongated crystalized blade body and begged to be battered. With the Rykan’s permission, he called for the engagement protocol.
“Tactical, prepare the ARC cannons.”
The tactical officer calculated the primary weapon’s effective shooting range with the help of the AI. The process took less than a minute. “Initializing start-up sequence.”
“When will we be operational?” Quintan asked.
“About ten minutes and thirty-two seconds, sir.”
The colonel nodded and leaned into his chair. He needed to know what had happened to his brother, but as long as this abomination infested the space, he had to shift priorities. “Tell me when the ARC is ready and wait for my command.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quintan stared back at the monster carrier smearing the view screen menu. Despite its appalling features, the ship exuded a merciless minimalistic appearance. Everything unessential was cut away and only the form prevailed. Deep inside, he admired that raw beauty. Simplistic, but strangely appealing compared to the complex mess the modern human race had drowned in. Quintan wondered how much easier life would be if humanity ushered back to its primitive roots where only the rules of fight or flight prevailed.
“Nine minutes until ARC systems are ready to fire,” the tactical officer said.
Quintan intertwined his rough fingers and prepared for the biggest engagement since the Colony War.
70
Inside the Verge carrier’s core, Tavio’s brain was in overdrive. Not too long ago, he had experienced challenges dealing with the Yuugen. But their translation issues and alien culture clash seemed petty compared to the Verge’s twisted logic. The mantis-like crane creature had collected many words from his crew but was still unable to form coherent sentences. Word scraps blurted out which Tavio had to form into a sensible whole.
“Smart… life… prezerrrve…,” the crane said.
“Preserve life?” Tavio asked, hoping to receive more clarity. “Are these organisms alive?”
“Aliveee… aliveee…”
Bellrog’s grimace seemed stuck in stasis, but the doctor soaked up every communication attempt with eager eyes. “Maybe this ship is a giant cryo-chamber, sir. A generational ship that collects a myriad of races for long-distance preservation.”
“You mean like an interstellar Noah’s Ark?”
“Not in the biblical sense, but in essence, yes.”
Tavio thought the idea made sense, before a recent memory pushed back into his memory. “But why would they attack the Yuugen? How does the elimination of a race align with preservation?”
The doctor slumped her shoulders. It was obvious she hated being clueless, especially after her diplomatic success with the Yuugen Collective. “I need more intel to make a sound suggestion, sir.”
Bellrog stepped closer to the captain and whispered over the intercom. “We should leave, sir. Whatever this creature wants, it isn’t in our best interest.”
The crane whizzed around the two and entered their private space. The mantis-like frame shifted.
Tavio refrained from grimacing. “I doubt the Verge will let us go like that. Not before we have cleared what it actually wants from us.”
“It’s a matter of translation,” Dr. Eriksun said. “Maybe we can send a data package with our language.”
She inspected the various rows of tubes and the cables attached to them. “After all, the Verge seems advanced enough to preserve life, launch autonomous bots, and utilize light speed technology. It must be able to understand our data.”
It seemed like a viable option, but Tavio didn’t want an unknown life form accessing the Moonshot’s server. Once it understood human IT, the Verge could hack into their systems and snap confidential information, which put every colony in the solar system at risk.
The captain focused on the mantis-like shape as it hovered close to him. More hissing escaped its speakers.
What the hell do you want from us?
71
On board the artillery cruiser, Second Eye of Horus, the ARC user interface glowed its status as 100%. The tactical officer in charge craned his head after the colonel. “ARC is operational, sir.”
Quintan swiveled around his seat and eyed the tactical screen. The schematic of the Verge ship angled when red triangles appeared on the grid. The RIO stuttered. “Target vessel is releasing crafts of unknown origin.”
“What?”
A squadron of foreign objects escaped the ‘bays’ of the Verge craft and targeted the fleet formation. The tactical grid spotted eight units total and updated their advance in nano-seconds.
So much for the element of surprise, Quintan thought. They should have fired the second the artillery cruiser came into range. Brigadier General Rykan hesitated for too long and put the entire division at risk. But complaining wasn’t a military strategy, so he asked for permission to engage.
“Yes. Prepare to launch the ARC. Use secondary to fire at the squadron. Don’t let them enter our CCR.”
Quintan fired the command back at his officers. “Tactical, launch the ARC.”
The officer nodded and engaged the experimental weapon protocol. Stats and graphs framed his vision as the astral rail cannon prepared to shoot.
Quintan’s eyes were glued to the view screen. All cruisers in the formation synchronized their salvos and released the massive hyper velocity shells through their ring-mounted accelerator frames. The shells pierced the void and targeted the far away Verge scu
m ship. Quintan sweated and carved his short fingernails into the armrest. Pain and pleasure battled over the emotional stronghold of his body.
First hit is the deepest, Quintan thought and followed the trajectory of the ARC shells on his grid.
Let’s see what Alliance technology is capable of.
72
A giant vibration shook up the core hall. Tavio’s exosuit sensors registered the kinetic energy of the impact and squealed a warning sign. The damage report blurred into his augmented vision. Bellrog stretched his boots and balanced his massive body. The cybernetic crane folded into the air and roared around its rails.
“Collision, sir. Someone, or something, is hitting the carrier.” Bellrog updated.
Tavio tried to establish contact with both Aidos and Srini back at the Moonshot, but the response fizzled out. The Verge blocked the signal, and the drone’s projection wavered.
“Danger… danger…,” the artificial creature said like a broken record.
The Verge must have picked up the word from eavesdropping on the crew’s conversation. Tavio looked up at the cybernetic crane shaking. More drone-like units escaped the bays between the tube rows.
“Who’s attacking?” Tavio asked.
Had the Yuugen actually retaliated? Hōshi had claimed her race didn’t have the firepower to hit a carrier of that size, but maybe she wasn’t telling the full story. Maybe it was a ploy to get rid of the humans and the Verge in one shot.
More scenarios zapped through the captain’s mind. Could it be the Alliance backup? Have they reached the exoplanet’s orbit?
More impacts rattled the hall. Whatever hit the Verge ship must have been massive and shot at great velocity. And despite the alien ship’s gigantic build, Tavio wasn’t sure if the carrier could hold up much longer.
“Sir?” Dr. Eriksun said as she pointed toward the tubes.
They retracted to the wall and disappeared from Tavio’s visuals. In a matter of a minute, the biotech walls devoured each tube and shut the openings.