Alien Alliance Box Set

by Chris Turner

  Vincent fired repeated rounds. Deakes and Ramra scrambled after it. The four of them rounded the bend. They saw, just as the insect was booting it up a ladder, a circular portal cut in the ceiling through which it was escaping.

  Ramra opened fire. The insectoid shape fell from the ladder, some weave of spidery ropes. Its pincer claws snapped at empty air. It fell back on its shell and breathed its last breath. Deakes stomped on its neck, crunching it flat. Vincent clambered up the ropy strands while Deakes covered him, his E1 trained. Vincent lifted blaster to point inside the dark opening where the drone assault craft sat above the hull. Firing blindly, he stirred a peal of agonized chirrups just as the portal started to shutter closed like some great eyelid. Ramra blasted the outer mechanism, the circuit box that sparked and sizzled.

  Regers grinned a feral grin. “That’ll do, Vincent. Good job, Ramra. Doubt if those bastards’ll be able to open that hatch too soon. Back to the bridge.”

  “What about Creib?”

  Regers shook his head. “Creib’ll have to fend for himself. That portal’s buggered.”

  They staggered back to the bridge where Jennings worked the controls, sweat beading from his brow. Regers hurried behind him, another plan in mind. But a figure came edging out of the ruin of bodies behind him—

  A portly man with a half-crazed look scuttling like a crab to snatch up Creib’s fallen rifle. Dez—the fuck. He pointed it with a shaky hand at Regers.

  “Turn this ship around, Regers,” he croaked.

  Regers faced him, cheeks crinkled in amusement. “You’d better put that firecracker down, Dez, if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Shut the hell up. What do you think I am, some kind of moron?”

  “Smarter than a moron maybe, but stupider than a dead asshole.”

  “I said turn this ship around!—wait, I’ve a better idea.” He motioned the gun. “Jennings, set a course toward the dragonfly avatar. Use the claw arm to pick it up. We’re going to bring that mechno back to my lab. There’s a goldmine in experimental tech in that hardware. Worth its weight in gold.”

  “You’re giving orders now, Dez? Who’s going to pilot it? You? With your fancy ass gun in hand? I don’t think so. Good luck.”

  Dez sprayed a line of fire at Regers’ and Deakes’s feet. “Stay back, fools!”

  Regers did a little dance. “Horny toads, Dez! Getting frisky?” He gave a dog-eared, crooked smile.

  “Tell Vincent and your other dumb thug with the horns to lower their guns and move slowly over to the controls with Jennings where I can see them.”

  Regers shook his head, then cast Deakes a sly grin. “Okay, boys…Jiminy, you heard the man.”

  Jennings licked his lips. Regers leered in distaste as Jennings set the course to rendezvous with the dragonfly’s avatar. He clacked away on the console to familiarize himself with the ship’s exterior robot arm.

  Regers blew air out of his cheeks. “Funny how a gun in hand changes a man, Dez. Makes him think he’s bigger than he is, allows him to take more risks, as if he’s got a bigger cock or something. When deep down inside that man knows he’s either a spineless cur or a fighter. And you ain’t no fighter, Dez. Written all over your face. Simple advice, drop the gun, give up this charade and all will be forgotten. Just warning you.”

  “I’m going to teach you a lesson, Regers. Now get over there with Vincent and the others!” The CEO’s veins bulged on his neck, rifle clutched in shaky hands.

  A sudden pincer arm poked up from the rubble of shredded Mentera corpses. Dez turned, startled by the movement. He sprang back, a shrill cry in his throat. A gibbering, hissing moan came from the not-yet-dead Mentera. Dez’s gun loosed a spray of fire, killing the Mentera and ricocheting off the weapons rack.

  Deakes wasted no time. Slamming forward, he crunched both fists into Dez’s shoulder. Dez sagged, his mouth wide in a shriek of agony. His weapon arm hung limp. Regers moved in, wrenched the E1 from him.

  Regers smiled down at Dez. “Sure glad we settled that little episode. Enough bloodshed today already, Dez. Look around you. You think we need to add your worthless hide to the killing ground? A perfectly decent ship all shot to shit with multiple bug corpses putrefying my space and shedding green blood everywhere. Think I’ll elect you number one mop up man to clean up this mess.”

  Dez sank lower to the floor, moaning, clutching his side.

  “Attaboy, Deakes. You always come through. Now it’s your turn to be learning a lesson, Dez. I told you, Uncle Regers’s gonna take care of us, one big happy family. Why you try to spoil it, Dez, like some A-hole with shit for brains?

  “Now, take Jennings for example. He’s the only one I’d put a gun in hand, ’cause I know he doesn’t have it in him to turn on me. Man’s wise enough to know if he did, between Vincent, me and Deakes, he’d end up potato mash.”

  Jennings firmed his lip, muttering dark monosyllables.

  Dez whimpered on his knees. Regers shook his head without sympathy. He motioned his E1 to the holoview where the Mentera were getting their asses kicked, bombarded by the dragonfly. “Would you look at that. Buggie-boo’s coming through in the end. Ain’t that a pretty sight?”

  Jennings shuddered. “Creib would have something different to say.”

  “I reckon Creib is on a highway to hell right now, Jiminy, so let’s have some respect for the dead.”

  “We could—”

  “Bug off, Jiminy. Don’t even mention it, or I’ll blast your teeth out.” He waved his rifle in the man’s face, a baleful gleam in his eye.

  “Sure, whatever you say, Regers.”

  Regers’ grin turned to ice. “Now get this fucking ship moving.” He slammed his metal fist down on the console. “Dez’s idea’s not a bad one—so we’ll forgive him this time and take his suggestion.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means we’re gonna take that bug armor with us, use it as collateral and hightail it the fuck out of here.”

  Deakes stared, starry-eyed. “You crazy?” Ramra and Vincent leaned in with open mouths.

  “Move! You heard what I said.”

  Jennings caught Regers’ arm. “The alien bug’s dangerous. Look at it. Can’t you see—”

  “Screw the bug. If it’s going to fuck with us, we’re going to fuck with it. Make us some money in the meantime. Save us a bunch of piss-assing around in Veglos, working small time cons.”

  Deakes shook his head, blood trailing from his cheek. “Too risky, Regers. Can’t condone it.”

  “Yeah, well, life’s a risk.” Regers grimaced. “Besides, don’t want that thing getting back in its armor and chasing after us. I’ve seen what their species can do. I remember it well, back on Phebis. Ain’t for the weak of heart.”

  “It’s insane, Regers.”

  “I’ve heard that too many times.” Regers waved his gun at Dez. “Blame Dezzie here.”

  They glared at the scientist who cowered in a tighter ball.

  The others stood around, still gaping. Ramra scratched his horned head; suddenly Regers lost his cool. He slammed a boot at the console and stuck the rifle end in Jennings’s ear.

  “Hurry it up, lady Jane. We’re not on a sightseeing tour here.” He gave Ramra a shove. “You too, hornhead. Go work nav, stick your finger up your ass, plot us a light drive course or something to Tilas or thereabouts. Once we get our cargo I don’t want to be dicking around plugging in numbers. Quick, while that bug’s distracted.”

  Mumbling misgivings, Jennings impulsed toward the place where the armored hulk hovered. He guided the ship over its owl-eared turret so the bottom cargo bay and space arm were positioned directly overtop. Tongue to lip, the engineer latched the claw clamp expertly onto a heavy ring on its upper armature and began to lift the armored hulk. The eerie, maroon-shadowed ruins of Hresh’s research station loomed below like a jumble of broken sticks. The hydraulics worked and the space arm bore the mechnobot into the lower cargo bay. Dez watched with e
ager eyes while the others darted anxious looks at the holo view rich with details of the final assault on the doomed Mentera flagship. The dragonfly continued to weave in and out of the battered hull as the ship spewed its last feeble rays. Another mantis-fighter had roared out of the dawn’s murk from the distant ridge to aid the mother ship. The dragonfly rose to greet it with no less hostile handling. The invaders too soon fell to the dragonfly’s hammerhead assaults and crashed uselessly into the ruins of the research station.

  Regers grinned.

  But that grin did not remain for long. Even as Jennings turned Xaromar’s nose toward deep space to clear planetary gravity, the dragonfly was on the move. When it caught sight of its armored shell being carted away, it came streaking up from planetside like a mad hornet.

  “Is this for real?” Vincent murmured.

  “Up the power, Jiminy, unless you want to be staring into the eyes of a space bug in one of his cranky moods.”

  “You see, you can’t kill them!” cried Dez, his eyes lit in a maniacal gleam.

  “We’re almost at warp distance,” Ramra hissed. “How fast can the thing fly?”

  “Xaromar’s beat up.” Jennings clawed at his brow. “Impulse is shot to hell. Let’s just hope the warp isn’t screwed too.”

  “If it is, guess who’s going out in a space suit to fix it?” Regers jeered, his lips fixed in an unpleasant grin.

  The bug loomed up in the holoview, overtaking them at their slow impulse. With a sudden burst of speed, it smashed its hammerhead nose right through the plated hull of the Mentera assault probe along Xaromar’s starboard side. Bits and pieces of wreckage and mangled bodies floated out of the newly created hole.

  The dragonfly surged in with otherworldly eyes glowing ravenous hues. Its acrid spit cauterized the hole, now small enough so that no human could escape. As more debris flew out, Regers gaped, shuddering to think about Creib’s fate out there. Even if they’d attempted to save him, he’d be long gone now.

  “How far?” he croaked at Jennings, fingering his blaster.

  “One and a half minutes to safe zone.”

  “Too long! Hurry the fuck up. If that bug smacks through our hull, we’re all floating corpses.”

  Jennings grimaced. Another oil-drum boom came thudding from the port hull.

  “Christ, that thing’s going to shred us,” rasped Deakes. His eyes rolled port-ward to the engine bay. “How much more damage can this ship take?”

  The ship lurched to new assaults.

  All eyes turned to the holoview. The dragonfly ripped out of the hulk and flew ahead of Xaromar and turned back to stare at the crew with iridescent eyes, even though the port glass was shuttered. For a second time, Regers got an unpleasant glimpse of that creature through the holo view, as if it glared through misty veils of evil and on through his soul. The streamlined carapace glimmered rainbow colors under the faint light of Remus’s faraway sun. Its near transparent wings buzzed at impossible speeds. Then its bulbous body twitched like a bumblebee on a blossoming flower. The six legs retracted and extended and an extra set of antenna wavered. How could any creature survive in a vacuum? A shudder of apprehension shivered up Regers’ spine. He could not help but remember the dragonfly creature he’d named Shredder that had torn through as many Zikri squids as he could count on Phebis.

  Jennings gave a sudden gust of triumph as he slammed the Varwol drive to engage. The ship lurched in response and hurtled through the light highways to impossible places. The crew gaped as the holoviews showed a wall of white light to either side.

  Safety.

  Silence.

  Regers loosed a strangled breath. “That’s not a creature I want to mess with. Good work, boys. Let’s crack out the Daulk ale.” He glared at Dez. “See, Dez, your shitass prank of delaying us, nearly got us killed.”

  Dez’s lips peeled back in an angry scowl. He held his tongue, forgoing to mention that Regers had already implemented his original plan to capture the armor.

  Regers stepped through the pile of Mentera bodies, whistling a happy tune, kicking at corpses as he passed. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up. We’ll shove this filth in the trash compactor. Hate the smell of their yellow, green-goblin blooded hides.”

  Regers took little heed of Dez’s droopy misery as he hunched amidst the bloody masses of locust husks that lay strewn across the bridge. Ramra lifted his weapon to blast one of the last twitching insects, but Jennings held up a hand. “Don’t nuke that one yet.” His face was flushed, cheeks blood-smeared. “Hear that? Radio chatter. We can patch in his communications to the ship’s universal translators and figure out what these bugs were up to. Seems a dismal place to crouch and hide. If the locust is still alive, maybe it’s receiving some kind of messages or last transmission from its superiors.”

  “Good plan, Jiminy.” Regers turned to Ramra. “Help Deakes.” They dragged the weak creature over to the com console, ripped off its cracked helmet and patched the battered headset into the main computer. Raspy, clicking, insect sounds played through the ship’s audio. The computer began to analyze and decode the garbled scratches and hisses.

  “Mantis one, can you read? Intercept humans. (Pause). Bring all aboard with the others. (Staticky pause). Once you have acquired targets, rendezvous to Kraetoria with the mother ship at sector A34.7765#953l54. Other humans have been intercepted on old world. Invasion of human worlds is proceeding to plan…”

  The message cut off and repeated.

  Only a recording. Regers mulled it over. More static, then the message faded out to background. White noise. The Mentera’s life extinguished with it.

  “What’s that all about ‘Kraetoria’?” muttered Deakes.

  Regers curled his lip. “Guessing that my good friend Yul went to that Dim Zone shithole. Narrows down my search then. Once we pawn off this tech, we’ll head to Kraetoria.”

  “No way, Regers,” said Deakes. “Why insist on one-upping this fucker Yul? You’re alive, can’t you just leave it at that?”

  Regers fingers twitched on his E1. “This is my ship, my way, Deakes.”

  “You’re asking for trouble. Those bugs will cut us up and eat us for breakfast.”

  Regers grinned a toothy grin. “Not while me and my blaster are on duty. I’ll be kicking some bug ass before long, you wait. Jiminy, cut that annoying bug signal.”

  Jennings flipped the switch. The circuit went dead.

  Dez vaulted over to grasp at Regers’ arm, mouthing words in a strained voice. Regers winced at the man’s breath and his unwholesome pallor.

  “You have to turn this thing around, Regers! You heard about the alien invasion of human worlds. This tech is all the more important. Mathias is dead. You’ll not find Yul here or on Kraetoria. A waste to keep me hostage here.”

  “Pay me my money, you fucking bastard, then we’ll talk.”

  “You’ll get your damn money, Regers. Seems that’s all you care about.”

  “Damn right. I’ll tell you what, I’ll sell the mechno to you, even deliver it. Price is a million yols.”

  “A million yols?” Dez gaped, a strangled croak gurgling from his mouth. “No bloody way, Regers, that’s highway robbery.”

  “What happened to ‘worth its weight in gold’?” Regers smirked. He mimed quotation marks and knew by the feigned outcry that the CEO would pay more for it if he had to. Sell his own mother on the streets, considering the scope of the mechno’s application. The dragonfly-driven tech would be worth a hundred-fold more than his asking price once Cyber Corp got its marketing machine going.

  “Take the offer now, Dez, before it goes up another million.”

  Dez bit his lip. He looked here and there, flush-faced, like a snared rabbit.

  “Price just went up,” Regers said after the man’s hesitation. “A new ship too, an Alpha Roamer X4 or better. One mil yols plus ship payable on delivery.”

  Dez squirmed like a worm on a hook. “Okay, deal.” He wiped at the sweat gathering at the bags under his eye
s. “Why am I going along with this?”

  “Because Mathias’ll give you a cherry, maybe even suck your dick as a bonus, if he ever surfaces from his hiding.”

  Vincent choked out a laugh. Dez grimaced and hissed between his teeth.

  “So we’re good, one million plus a new ship? I’ll throw in Xaromar as a freebie once you hand over my Roamer.”

  Dez nodded, clawing at his pale ruff of sea-oat hair.

  Regers slapped his thigh. “Now there’s business I can feel good about. I’m getting all tingly and warm thinking about it. Practically getting a hard on. Dez, you drive a hard bargain. So, let’s say we haul ass back to Phallanor with your bug armor. Perfect timing now, that old butterfly boy is left light years behind.” He grinned.

  Regers stepped closer to the quivering man and spoke in an amiable voice. “Let’s firm it up, our deal, before you go changing your mind, like a little chicken shit bastard turned tail. You’re a slippery fellow, Dez, and I gotta keep my eye on you. Some time later you’ll send a gaggle of lawyers on me and weasel your way out. A man can never be too careful.”

  Regers rummaged through the forward bin. He pulled out a lumo pen and phosphor pad and scrawled some hasty words on the back of what looked like an old parts requisition form. “Sign,” he said.

  “As if I had any choice,” Dez panted, puckering up his mouth. He scribbled his signature.

  Regers scribbled his own mark while the others looked on in wonder. Regers signaled both Deakes and Vincent over to sign as witnesses.

  “If it makes you feel better, Dez, if you hadn’t agreed to those terms I’d have sicced Vincent on you, had him shove this rifle end down your throat till you were chirping birdshit like a big fat robin hunting worms in the morning dew.”

  “You’re a pig, Regers. If I ever—”

  Regers held up a hand. “Save it. Just a lot of windy air, we both know it.”

  Dez fumed, his eyes blazing like a man who knew he was powerless in Regers’ clutches.

  * * *

  Far away somewhere in the ruins of the forgotten research station, CEO Mathias hung suspended like a dead fish in his brine-filled tank, huddled in the murk of a broken Zikri Orb. He had missed his chance of rescue by a thin hair. In universal terms, this was significant, considering the billions of unknown worlds in the galaxy and the zero likelihood of any human venturing to these remote planets on the edge of The Dim Zone. As Regers and crew, oblivious to the CEO’s presence trapped in the tank, scooted off down the light highways at inconceivable speeds, never to return to Remus, Mathis continued his dreamless vigil. Luckily, for him, the brine would keep him alive indefinitely. Unluckily, there was no reason for human, alien, or anything else to ever return to that primitive, mysterious world.