Alien Alliance Box Set

by Chris Turner

  At last he came to the great arch of the central drive of the destroyer’s hub. An unfathomable construction…a massive dome stretching as high as the eye could see only to plunge into dim blackness below. There at the rail’s edge of the chasm’s threshold, Jring peered 800 feet below to a massive weave of countless human and alien victims caught in a sticky web of interconnectivity—like flies. Linked as one, to create a pool of mental energy, a vast psychic voltage which powered the time-drive and the internal engines of the Mentera destroyer, a technology superior to the Varwol technology of the anthropomorphic races.

  Jring’s reverie, like Nrog’s, was interrupted by the entrance of the First Acolyte.

  “What is the destination of the first round of human slaves from Quenrix, Princeps?” The Acolyte’s long, locust-shaped head towered a full six inches above Jring’s own insectoid skull. A fact Jring didn’t mind, not at all embarrassed by his own inferior height, as might others of his rank. He used his diminutive size as a spur to advance his other skills and rise above his competitors. Now he was the most powerful of the locusts. No one could deny him his rule or question his authority.

  “They will go to Barboryle, the secret world, as planned, put in their tanks. The Mother locust will feed off the first ten thousand humans and thrive. Regard, Acolyte, a master plan, a millennium supply of non-stop feeding. The Queen Mother needs enough food to complete her incubation of the future hordes, that her children might fly to all corners of the galaxy and lay their own eggs.”

  “What is the Zikri’s role in all this?” the Acolyte asked.

  The Mentera uttered a staccato hiss and twitched his antennae in an attitude of indifference. “As slaves. They will serve us, or they will perish.”

  The aide said with some discomfort, “But they will create war with us. Our allies will then become our enemies.”

  “Your grasp of these affairs is deficient. Go now and keep me apprised of the invasion’s progress.”

  The Acolyte pinched his locust lips into a penitent scowl. He bowed and took his leave of the Princeps’ presence.

  Princeps Jring occupied himself with other matters of protocol, namely the sending of assurances to the Queen Mother that their mission would be soon underway. It was too late to investigate the offending ships Nrog had mentioned. Upon the successful completion of the invasion, the three careless captains would be punished for being out of sync with the others and making him look foolish in front of the Zikri.

  Chapter 18

  The untold thousands of alien ships came out of hyperdrive on auto-deploy. Mentera lightfighters speckled space as far as the eye could see. Lethal flagships and destroyers formed larger pods of light within the smaller swarms, and then the ugly Zikri Orbs materialized out of nowhere, spiked black like morningstars.

  Yul blinked, hardly daring to believe he was still in the midst of this nightmare. At his side, Cloye glared, pointing a finger at the innumerable red dots on the holo screen. There were enough enemy ships to decimate an entire world. Her strident curse snapped him out of his daydream. It seemed so long ago that he had met her—in the cramped hold on the terraformer bound for Remus. The odds of her turning from enemy to ally had been so slim as to be nonexistent. She’d been ready to zap him and take his head back to Mathias. Mathias! Where was the bastard, the financial mogul of Cyber Corp? The same shyster who, to ensure his steadfast cooperation in The Dim Zone espionage, had inserted the painful nanoparticles in his blood stream that stabbed him with agony on a single press of a remote control.

  The blue-grey disc of Quenrix hung below like some detached eyeball. Some 30k miles above the planet the alien armada poised in a slow orbit. Thousands of assault fighters ready to launch their terror on the innocent multitudes below.

  No visible resistance came in view or on the holo radar within ten thousand miles. Why did this not surprise him? The world below was easy prey for these alien predators.

  Miko’s voice rasped over the com, “They’re lambs to the slaughter, Yul! I’m calling NOA.”

  “No, spaceboy—I’ll do it. They’ll never believe you.”

  Fenli snorted a curse. “Pray that they don’t catch wind of our spying and meddling and kill us all.”

  “We’re walking an impossible tightrope as it is,” Yul muttered.

  Orders from Mentera command crackled through the ship’s com. Yul scowled. That could be nothing good. “Miko, translate.” Even engineer whiz Hresh hadn’t been able to get their universal translator working.

  Miko parroted what Usk translated: “They tell us to move out. That all mantis craft are to act as advance guard. The Zikri Orbs are to remain behind to safeguard the sky. The next world on their list is a nearby planet on the fringe of the outer zone, a mere hop skip away.”

  Yul bit his knuckles. “Not good.” Not even a moment to collect his wits and flesh out a plan. “We’re going to have to play along until we figure something out.”

  Fenli griped, “How long are we going to play this stupid charade before we blast out of here?”

  “Maybe until the bugs give us back control of our ships, dumbfuck?” snapped Cloye. “Look, they’ve hardwired our impulse to Quenrix. They’re taking no chances with screw-ups.”

  Fenli swore. Yul stiffened in horror at the reality of Cloye’s assertion. The nose of their craft tilted slowly planetward along with the bee-swarm of brightly-colored dots in near space.

  Miko gave a startled cry. “Our nav is up and running!”

  “Wait, so’s mine,” said Fenli. “And my hyperdrive is suddenly active. Well I’ll be… What do you know?” He laughed. “See you suckers!”

  A bright flash lit across the horizon as his ship entered the light highways and was gone.

  “Lucky bastard,” grumbled Yul.

  “The more we talk like this over open wire is a risk,” hissed Hresh.

  “The invasion is unprecedented and insane,” Miko persisted. “We can’t just go down and stand idly by while they kill and enslave our fellow human beings! I can’t let this happen.”

  “Easy, spaceboy,” said Yul. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “Screw that. I’m breaking away—”

  Yul swore. But Miko was already gone.

  “Fool!” Yul groaned. “He’s going to give us away.”

  “Let him go, Yul.” Cloye gave a bitter laugh. “He’s on a death mission as it is. So is that flyboy Fenli of his. But the cocky bastard managed to get away as we should’ve.”

  Yul shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Those two may end up being the only ones keeping us alive, Cloye. We’d better hope they survive. United we stand, divided we fall.”

  “Fancy words.” But Cloye was not so hotheaded as to deny that he spoke truth.

  Yul stared helplessly at the alien controls. Dire frustration smoked in his brain, directed at the squiggles, knobs, strange symbols. “Evidently our last mayday didn’t get through.”

  He hissed into the com. “NOA, this is top priority, do you read?”

  A prolonged silence passed as the carrier signal ping-ponged through the light tunnels.

  “Over. Private Bjen Stone, NOA command control here. Who am I talking to?”

  Yul rasped, “Zikri and Mentera forces are ready to move in on Quenrix. We’re three of us in spy ships, Mentera lightfighters in the middle of the attack fleet! Repeat. We’re in a three-ship convoy amid enemy vessels. The next target is likely a nearby world. Put every ship you have into sector 3.156DZ. Thwart this disaster before—”

  “Who is this? We’ve confirmed you as an enemy Mentera lightfighter.”

  “Yeah, I know that, Stone. Name’s Vrean, Yul Vrean.”

  “What are your channels, your credentials? Who do you work for?”

  Yul hesitated. Was this guy for real? He spoke in a low, angry voice, “I work for Cyber Corp. Contracted by Mathias.”

  “Mathias? Man’s been missing for a month.”

  “We know. And he’s likely dead. Forget Mathias.
We came from The Dim Zone, planet Remus. Place is a shambles. Bugs and squids have taken over. And something else, some feral alien hellbringer. Mathias’s ex-researcher, Sigmund Hresh—his base, is toast, demolished. We made it to Kraetoria—”

  “Kraetoria? What are you on? That’s a dead world, Vrean. Wait, Quenrix, you say? Reports are coming in from Quenrix’s defense grid now. Picking up large numbers of enemy craft. Okay…We’re on our way.”

  * * *

  Miko’s fingers played over the locust nav console. How he despised this prison of a ship, his throbbing brain scanning for options. Impulse drive was still operational, unlike the hyperdrive and his companions’ light drives. He watched as Yul floated down planetside cosseted with the locust swarm.

  Miko looked over at Usk whose black-plated insectoid head bobbed in frustration. The locust’s red eyes gleamed. Hard enough to navigate this Mentera ship. Without Usk they’d be rat bait by now. Star gazed on in apathy at the holo view and its endless blips of enemies. A blank look hung on her face, not even the briefest strangled cry issued from her throat. What would it take to snap the woman out of her lethargy?

  Miko’s heart thumped in his chest as a wild plan surfaced. Reaching past Usk’s pincer, he set the ship skimming over the line of aphids and mantises streaming like lemmings down to planetside. His lips curled in vindictive defiance.

  “Usk! We’ll linger here as long as we can fake it...might be able to sabotage those ships, put a monkey wrench in their launch plans. There! Look, that Mentera slaver over there.” Usk’s eyes roved to where Miko pointed: a dark blue, balloon-like hull filled a portion of the viewscreen. “The ship lags behind. If we can sabotage it or drop bombs on its com towers…”

  “How?” chittered Usk’s voice through the translator. “Those ships have defenses. Once we fire, they’ll think we turned traitor and neutralize us in short order.” Though Miko noticed he jerked his head up in a faint hope.

  Miko gnawed at his knuckles. “I’m open to ideas, Usk. Think of something!”

  “Don’t do it,” Yul hissed over the com, overhearing their conversation. “It’s suicide. Stay at the fringes of the Mentera fleet and watch your back and ours.”

  Miko shook his head, a defiant gleam in his eyes. His hand fled to the impulse slider. They could dip and dodge at top speed, nuke as many as they could then make their break from the fleet…but his fingers held back.

  The hesitation cost him. Miko’s ship was out of line with the others. The principal Mentera squad leader’s craft veered in while a barrage of locust talk crackled over their receiver, translated in real time:

  “Mentera lightfighter Meijk! You are out of order. Report to mission control on the double. Interrogation crew and boarding party are on its way. Dock immediately.”

  Miko hissed, his heart a lead weight. “Bastards. Now we’re in a pickle, Usk. Get this ship out of here! Draw the squad leader toward that nearby Zikri Orb. If we can raise some havoc over there, it’ll buy us some time. Damn it! I wish they hadn’t jammed up our light drive.”

  “Don’t worry, Yul,” Miko hissed in response to Yul’s groan over the com. “We’ll distract them away from you, and Fenli. Oh, I forgot, he’s already gone.”

  Star shook her head in defeat, at last roused from her daze. “Is this what I think this is?”

  “Yes, and worse. Work the auxiliary weapons controls. Now!” he barked. “Target the Mentera slaver. We have no time for hysterics.”

  She hurried to obey, her survival instinct returning.

  The com chattered on with fresh new bug speak. Miko punched it off. Usk blinked at him. Miko worked the forward cannon and sprayed blasts upon the locust slaver, then he maxed the impulse toward one of the giant Orb flagships at the edge of the Zikri fleet, a craft with thick, bristling spikes and heavy cannons. A defiant snarl curled over his lips. Usk’s beak of a mouth parted, mouthing an almost vindictive chirrup.

  “If we’re going to go out, might as well go out with a bang, Usk!” Teeth biting lip, Miko worked the controls as they came coursing up over the looming attack Orb. A host of locust aphid defense fighters dogged their tail, firing beams wantonly.

  Deafening booms wracked the hull. Their shields got pounded, pitching to 40% integrity. Star wailed, the whites of her eyes a testament of her fear. All awaited sudden death only seconds away.

  Orbs came streaming in from all quarters to surround them, like an eerie array of dark magnets. Miko and Usk lay into them with fore and aft cannon. Return fire knocked their hull, blasting shields to dangerous levels, but not before Usk sent a series of well-timed blasts into the hulls of a locust team leader and two flanking Orbs. The ships burned red then burst into doomed flames.

  Usk gave a chirrup of triumph.

  Shortlived triumph.

  The dire tug of something oppressive gripped their starboard vanes. A tractor beam. The invisible magnetrons gnawed at their glowing hot fuselage and dragged them toward the massive spiked Orb flagship. A jagged landing portal opened. Saw-edged flanks swallowed them up, like the jaws of a giant steel trap.

  They were going to take them alive.

  Chapter 19

  Yul had lost track of Miko as he swept planetside. Nausea pooled in the pit of his gut. A bad feeling grew. All paths and possibilities on this coaster ride seemed to lead to a predetermined outcome.

  “I hate just sitting here,” grumbled Cloye.

  “Yeah, you and me both. But what else is there? Break formation and waste ourselves like Miko? We contacted NOA. If they get themselves together, our job’s done. We can contrive to escape.”

  “Where are those fuckers anyways?”

  “We just contacted them,” sighed Yul.

  “Don’t they have reserves somewhere nearby?”

  “Why would they? Look at our location, Cloye, a stone’s throw away from The Dim Zone.”

  The swarm of alien ships entered the atmosphere over the polar ice cap then spread out across the doomed planet. Yul’s wing headed for the foremost continent due south which showed as a brown mass in an illimitable ocean of green. Two other wings split to converge on the remaining continents and their plump cities.

  The five thousand enemy ships surged in as one: the fiercest locust swarm in the history of the galaxy. The intent, to take the cities one by one.

  The capital, Gibras, loomed up Yul’s sight: sky towers, ore refineries, parks and monuments. He gripped the controls, refusing to believe this holocaust was in progress. Skyscrapers and executive buildings, air rail and tram skyways, outlined on the pale saffron horizon. It was a lazy afternoon, and the unsuspecting targets went about their daily business.

  The Mentera ships skimmed above the clouds then glided down in S-shaped units, a dark menace hovering above the air cars in the streets, unleashing stun rays on the bewildered and panicking citizens. Convoys landed to discharge Mentera troops to hunt down and capture live human specimens. The giant Mentera slaver ships hung in the cloudy air above like great bloated zeppelins, waiting for their moments to descend and collect their mass prizes.

  The hollow pit in Yul’s stomach grew. He gaped in dismay as the ships unleashed their respective horrors. Miko was lost, Fenli had bailed. Now his ship skimmed the main boulevard with the rest of the horde. His fingers worked the holo pad, firing forward cannon aimlessly, hoping to keep up the illusion of an invader. Apparently their mission was to eliminate ground resistance while scouts and raider craft dropped to secure hapless human victims and transport them to their wide-bodied slaver ships.

  Central control gave orders in a spate of bug-speak. Navigation had been given back to the lightfighters; now they could maneuver through the streets and conduct their grisly guerrilla warfare and ship-to-ship combat that was the logical next step. Yul’s ship swept across the panic-stricken masses in the streets. His metal fingers tightened in dismay as white fire lashed out at the hull. The mantis ship rocked and shield levels dipped as Quenrix air guard defense fired back at the invading aliens. B
ut this local resistance, too few in numbers, though valiant to the core, was shot down in smoldering heaps upon the teeming streets below.

  “Change fire to light payloads,” Yul hissed. “Miss as many of the locals as you can, Cloye. We need to keep up the pretense we’re part of the fleet—otherwise that’ll be us smoking on the ground.”

  She fired round after round from the rear cannons as close to the fleeing citizens as she dared.

  Wholesale slavery. Yul cringed at the subjugation of a nation. While the spiked Orbs hovered far above the clouds like undersea mines, the Mentera lightfighters and slavers did their dirty work on the ground. Local resistance ships were tractored in or destroyed. Crews and pilots forced into slave holds. The great Mentera slave vessels at last made their way landward and Quenrixian citizens by the hundreds were herded into waiting raider craft. A gargantuan hulk, the shape of a massive blue zeppelin, descended in a central park adjoining a public square. It crushed old manicured trees and service buildings under its landing struts and infathomable weight. Mentera raiders in grey space suits spread out to capture the panicked civilians and cull any armed resistance. Several collectors, or aphid-shaped vessels, landed amidst the ruins, unleashing green stun fire. Scout-raiders. More grey-suited figures piled out and scuttled to snatch fleeing humans and bring them to the smaller vessels or directly to a slaver craft, whichever was closer.

  Yul watched in helpless frustration. Unable to take direct action except to keep up with the pack, he lagged further and further behind the horde that swept through the streets. Cloye, working weapons grid, misfired and shot down locusts collecting victims.