NationStates Jolt Archive

The call was unmistakable now. Radiating with a power and force unignorable to those who were suitably tuned and willing to travel, and wait. A billion voices, in near painful dissension, struggled to be heard, to each overcome its neighbour and send its voice and thoughts clear. A world, teeming with life on a scale that would rival any within the galaxy, continued on with the daily business of survival.

Lush, green forests home to a thousand species of bird, whose baying calls chattered with the day, and serenaded the night. Sweeping plains home to galloping herds, and stalking, watchful predators who waited for the chance to take a meal. Tempestious oceans that roared and swirled their rage on a grand scale, great waves of sheer power crashing into each other with no regard or thought.

Sprawling suburban fortresses which fused the artificial with the world of nature grew almost by day as progress and industry united to push back the frontiers. Within each of these many cities, for each individual many, many times over existance continued, and for them, a calm, if draining struggle. This orb that sat within the black of the void, and coupled with the seldom star that shone brightly in that system, sat proudly as a testament to the variety of life, and the universe as a whole.

Yet, for the beauty that crossed a star, and made good use of its light, an unmitigated evil stalked the space between the stars itself. Amongst the empty, uninhabited wastelands of the interstellar void a malignant, clawing terror slowly but irripressibly unfolded its ice-like claw, taking hold of those who could not escape, and ensaring them for acts of unspeakable vile, and better left unmentioned.


Their form was ghastly. They took the appearance of a starship, a vessel of the stars whose only purpose was to act as little more than shelter to the precious, fragile organic cargo that crossed the sea between worlds. Yet these vessels bore little relation to the previous exploits of mankind, or the Elves, or indeed any of the myriad of humanoids with experience of such.

Where shining metal formed smooth hull, chitinious hardened bone pulsed with putrid, foul liquid. Patches of tissue forced themselves through the protective layer, spreading red, blossoming patterns over the heaving mass. Fins made not of an alloy, but of bone and sinew sprouted and stood over the rear. Swirling tentacles of various lengths flirted along the ventral side. Short and unable to grasp, they swayed in the solar winds, whilst their longer brethen freely coiled around the flesh. For these craft were not only transports, they lived, and grew. As impossible a statement as it was, these hulking forms were at home within the most hostile and unforgiving environment yet encountered. These, "biological" entities acted with a curious, superficial resemblence to the massive whales of Terran oceanic fame.

Ahead of these behemoths, several, far smaller forms sped onwards. Where the larger vessels were ponderous, and slow, these flitted through with the speed and grace of anything yet created by an Elf, or Man. Sporting a bulbous, frontal head, they trailed long twitching limbs that seemed to make up a complex star shape of which a purpose could only be guessed at.

Hardened bone-like fins steadied the speeding pack as the moved onwards. Unfortunately they competed in no childish boast of speed, nor were they simply excercising seldom used abilities. Indeed the world ahead, of which described so beautifully earlier and home to so many billions, would be their target. As they adjusted for the intense gravitational distortions in system, the first of many stirred onboard the great, lumbering bioships within the rear.


And it was time.






Girria reclined within the strong arms that held her. A few short feet ahead, a crackling fire leapt and sizzled on hastily gathered logs and foilage. Struggling against a blowing wind, the amber flame fought back against the intrusion, as she stirred, stretching. A voice from behind broke the silence, as the same pair of arms reluctantly released their hold.

"You're finally awake?"

She smiled, turning to meet the face of the man whom enchanted her so. Leaning up so their lips might meet, she enjoyed the contact momentarily before breaking away. Climbing to her feet and brushing the dried tree bark from her clothing, she moved towards the supply containers, stacked outside the habitation tent.

"I didn't want you to hear me snoring." She joked, heaving open the box and rummaging noisely.

Retrieving what she searched for, she sealed the box. Crossing over to the illumination lantern that sat atop a smoothened rock, she checked the power indicator. Frowning, she deactivated it, swapping the cell for the fresh one she had just retrieved. Satisfied, she once more illuminated the sorrounding camp.

"You really don't like to leave things unfinished..." The man ribbed.

Doing her finest impression of mock hurt, she pointed an accusary finger at her partner, "Your always so nasty to me." She began, "I must say I wonder why you bother coming!"

Letting a chuckle escape his lips, he sat up, brushing the leaves free, and crossed to her side. Taking her hand in his, he leaned in, and kissed the young women firmly, groaning softly as she pushed her body against his. His passion deepened, and their kiss became more urgent. Running a hand through her long, raven locks, he broke the kiss only long enough to brush a stray strand from her eyes. He was about to continue when an odd whistling filled the air.

Looking upwards, Girria recognised the familiar sight of a shooting star. Smiling, she pointed it out as the white streak travelled over the horizon and vanished from sight. A budding astronomer, she would have loved to observe it longer, though sadly, or perhaps not so, Kelvanis had other things upon his mind besides scientific study. Feeling her chin guided, she looked up into the familiar, loving face of her partner. He closed the distance between them, until she could feel his breath against her cheek.

Without warning the ground shuddered slightly. A barely perceptible vibration that none-the-less spurned the pair apart, casting an odd look towards each other as a sign of their lack of understanding. Crossing towards the camp fire, she spied the embers flicker down, the flame receding. Suddenly, she became aware of an acute chill. The trees sorrounding the clearing began to heave, a siren whale as the branches snapped back against each other.

"Well, the weather was nice whilst it lasted." She moaned loudly.

Kelvanis opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a loud shriek. Spinning round, his eyes widened as a massive black shadow cast itself over his tent. Stepping back, he quickly ducked as a thick swarm of birds flew from the dark bushes ahead. Cursing loudly as he avoided flapping wings and agitated claws, he climbed to his feet as Girria rushed to his side.

"I've never seen Junipers behave like that before..." She whispered, suddenly acutely aware of the loudness of her own voice.

Again the gale blew loudly, as if to confirm all she said. Treading back to the tent, the pair sat back down against their impromptu bench. The log creaking slightly under their combined weight. Poking the cooling ashes of the fire, Girria sighed, dropping the lighting stick to the ground.

"We're going to need some more wood." She said, fluttering her eyelashes in an attempt at seduction. Chuckling, Kelvanis nodded, rising from her side.

"Alright my lady, I shall return." He added regally, a short bow forthcoming.

Turning, he trudged off through the thicket. Pushing branches aside, and avoiding insidious vines that seemed to be well placed to trip him up and make a fool, his eyes scanned for loose logs. Idly, he picked each one up, stacking them against his chest, and yawning as the activities earlier in the day took their toll on his alertness.

His eyes darted upwards as a twig broke audibly. Pausing, he shouted for acknowledgement.

Nothing.

Calling out again, of the opinion it could easily be another set of exobiology field students, he waited with apprehension for a reply. Yet the silence remained, and he got no answer. Shrugging, he was poised to pick another log up when another snap broke the silence. This time from behind, he span round, yet saw nothing more than a throng of trees, and in the star-laden sky, the shadow of the twin-moons.

Dismissing his silliness, he strode on, until he was sure he had enough logs for the fire, and sure he couldn't carry many more and remain standing. Turning back, he began to make his way slowly campward, eager to resume where he had been with Girria before this business had disturbed him so. Passing the base of a thick and tall tree, he dropped a number of logs as he tried to avoid an exposed root. Cursing, he paused and bent over, gingerly picking up the logs and heaving himself upright.

As he turned around, he looked up nonchalantly, as something descended from the dark branches above. His eyes widened as the stranger landed perfectly barely ten metres from him. He opened his mouth to shout an insult, his temper raging at being suprised. Yet as his visual cortex processed fully what was in front of him, his mouth gaped.

It stood fully fifteen feet high. Standing on two powerful legs, ending in three toed, wide feet, it stood hunched. Its rippled body was a mass of chitinious, hardened plates that moulded to its monstrous form with frightening familiarity. Razor sharp shards of bone erupted from the orange-cloured flesh at insane angles that seemed to defy rational, natural evolution. Four long arms, each anchored securely to the torso by impossibly massive bicep muscles that seemed to bulge and move of their own accord, were stretched out. Each arm ended not in dexterious digits, but murderous, sweeping scythes. Kelvanis did not take the time to notice, but the curved edge was not simply flat, but serrated with deadly intent.

The logs forgotten, they dropped uselessly to the floor.

The creature raised its compact head. Black, colourless orbs stared with a deep seated vacancy. Kelvanis felt himself dragged screaming into those eyes, which seemed to show not a hint of emotion, or feeling, or even intent. Though this creature was horrifically alien in its appearance and murderous design, its eyes betrayed nothing of its true calling. Finally, it made a sound, as until then it had not moved a muscle.

He watched as the corners of its serrated, cavernous mouth curled upwards. Row upon row of elongated, sharpened fangs made themselves apparent. A serpentine tongue, as crimson red as his own blood slithered out momentarily. It did not speak, for it did not require word or language to convey its requirement.

Backing away slowly, Kelvanis raised his hands, trying his best not to look threatening. He stumbled slightly, as root, stone and branch all did their best to force hom to the ground. Ahead the creature cocked its head, as though it did not truly understand the behaviour it saw unfolding. With what almost seemed a shrug, the thing made its move apparent.

Kelvanis watched as two bone shards erupted from the should blades of the creature. They flew through the air with deft speed, And before he could do anything, he felt stinging pain as they impaled him just short of his shoulder blades. Falling to the ground, he looked down, only to see the shards were tethered to the predatory alien. Long, elasticated tubes of muscle stretched back, disappearing into the chest of the attacker.

Grunting as a wave of agony washed over him, he feebly tried to pull the hooks out. He cried out in pain as he simply puled the layers of skin they anchored to upwards, and to no effect. Laying on his knees, he looked upwards, as the thing still made no movement. Before he could think of a response, he felt himself hauled forwards. He watched in horror as the muscled tethers promptly reeled him forwards. Feeling the skin around the hooks tighten and twitch he cried out again, his entire chest being pulled at as the distance betweent he pair closed.

He gasped in relief as not only the winching stopped, but the hooks tore themselves free, leaving him flat on the muddy ground, matching wounds adorning his shoulders, and weeping crimson. Looking upwards, he fixed his stare on his tormentor, unable to look away even as the creature reared upwards, crying out as it swung one of its four chitinious blades downards.

Kelvanis felt nothing more as his head was promptly removed form his body.

With a triumphant roar, the creature fired its hooks once more upwards, winching itself up into the tree above with as little noise and stealth as it had suprised the unfortunate Kelvanis earlier. Scanning the horizon, the murderous thing located the partner of the humanoid.

Garria would not live to see the sun return to its place within the sky.




Many miles upwards, within the depths of space, the population of this world woke to alarming news. Even as they watched hastily transmitted pictures, and half-verified reports, images of hulking, grotesque bioships flooded their viewing. News agencies battled to cover the unfolding drama as planetary defence forces responded to these insane invaders.

Laser platforms spat focused death into the biological cloud. Here and there, a bloated Bioship would list to the side, spilling globules of green and purple as its iron-thick hide was ripped asunder by the force of the defence platforms. Yet their number was great. And it was not long before the foreigners were within orbit. Foul, tentacled creatures whipped and tore at the defence stations and craft, literally pulling them apart as their crew struggled to the escape pods and certain death.

One by one, the platforms and stations were silenced.

The sun was blotted out that morning, as thousands of shadows descended on to the surface. A million shooting stars whose welcomed history was hastily rewritten as scores of foul xenomprohs shambolically hauled themselves across the surface. Within hours, their number doubled, and tripled. With no chance of a secure orbit, their defeat was merely delayed. Valiently those that could fought against the relentless tide, yet could do nothing but be swept aside.

Men, women and children were butchered without mercy. They recognised no difference, all were expendable. The most powerful gravitic tanks were overrun and dragged down by sheer weight of numbers. Their hulls dissolved by insane, biological acids that turned unbreakable metal into quivering organic jelly. Impregnable defence bases and support bunkers that made the perimeters of the planet's cities so secure were overwhelmed. The invading creatures using piles of their own dead to force their way over the security walls.


Within three days, Illustria Prime was lost.


Not a single creature of sentience remained alive to witness what would be tantamount to rape on a worldwide scale. Systematically the genetic material of anything and everything was broken down and taken. Mammals, Reptillians, Bacteria and Plantlife were all dissolved into nothing but genetic strands and taken aboard the orbiting grotesques. Even the soil itself was collected and forced upwards. Soon only scorched rock passed as the land, and the world was to all intents and purposes dead.

But not all was completed. With a final heretical effort, the bioships descended, to the surface almost. They drank deep of the ocean, quenching an unbelievable thirst. They drained the oceans of every last drop, until only a desert world, devoid of every single rightful organism remained. As they left for orbit, they took great lungfuls of oxygen, nitrogen and preicous gases. For when they left what had formerly been the atmosphere, all that remained was a misshapen, sterilised rock.

Of Illustria prime, her billions-strong civilisation, her teeming oceans and enriched jungles, and of her core itself, nothing remained. The creatures that had clinically carried out such unbelievable carnage were far from satisifed. Already they put their newfound gains to use. Far ahead of these lumbering garguantuants, nimble scout vessels were already pinpointing another collection of worlds that would bring the Hive much genetic variety.

A teeming, nine planet system on the western spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.

The Sol System.

Jannike Kutusov was being slow, and stupid, and it was a lot better than the alternative, the wait. Friendly, slow screwing keeping her body in shape and hormones adjusting, her friend Dingane in her, lazy like cats in the cabin, smells and warmth fading into climate control and the comforting fragrances of the wood and greens of the ship.

Most of the other organics are also running slow, in different flavors, smells of sex and wushu drifting along the corridors. Mindscape soft and gentle and drowsy, hard diamond edges of just a few souls running in realtime keeping themselves muted. No Lutherans here, needing to spread their own inability to relax onto their compatriots. It's just that they have something to do.

Dingane smiles and says goodbye, his attention needed for shipdrives. He could stay, but his attention would be elsewhere, and even if he could technically put more mental effort into togetherness than he does now he thinks it's impolite to be mostly elsewhere. He leaves with a gesture of putting food together, and Jannike drifts off to sleep, setting her brain to bring her up to realtime slow by the time she is needed.

With the drives, his touch is deft. He prefers being in physical proximity to his work, choosing a workstation in the aft of the ship's thorax. The ship is alive, in a very real sense; it's alive and his blood is in the structure, literally and figuratively. The brutal rituals are how he likes to become close to his systems, in a manner more Tigran than Territorial. Paradoxic; he's a gentle soul, as gentle as any his people is likely to be.

The ship rushes out from S03A1C's primary, drones rushing toward rendezvous, having left an observation node behind. A thousand telescopes and three courier drones, and a shard of AI inclined toward contemplation staying behind with the nonsapient AI. The intrument begins watching, calibrating, as its mother powers away from the local Jovian's trailing libration point.

When Like Grains of Sand reaches five light hours from primary, the crew is at realtime and all systems are go. In the last few hours. observation data on the next three systems to be visited arrives from the observatory and adding itself to the data from far further off, the Solspace sensor arrays. SF001T, data refined. S65G99, data refined. S003ZA, next destination, data refined.

The ship jumps, across the light showing the death of Illustria Prime, from unpromising S03A1C to dead S003ZA, rushing insystem from five-point-three billion klicks out, sensor-cloud locking onto cold, sharp death.

Sand's hackles rise in fight-or-flight reflex, predator blood rushing hot through its mindscape.

There are procedures for these sorts of moments. Right now, terror is just an abstract; yes, there is data and doublechecked data but noone's actually seen the world die yet.

A flurry of activity and launching of subsidiary craft. Drones power away, a multinode telescope deploys. So far, it's all procedure. One drone tesseracts away immediately - insurance. In the port hangar bay, a more complex craft is prepared. Soon, a Firefly-class transport launches, to hunt along the Sand's path for the light of the catastrophe. Hauling drones on hardpoints like some great queen fly, the Cole Porter heads off, readying its Black Knight drive.

The Sand heads insystem, cold and quiet like another grave, not even boosting until it's passed through center system and can direct its thermal dumps outward while accelerating on main thrusters. It's the size of a cruiser, lighter, and its class doubles as a strategic reconnaisance vessel.

Nothing, nothing, nothing... until the telescopes begin to reolve the pathetic few bits of debris left. Battle leftovers, old and cold. The ship curves around the inner system as entropy keeps taking its toll on whatever's left, careful, slow, seeding relay drones ahead to keep its records safe. And finally it makes its approach to the planet, a half-kilometer wraith cold as the stellar background trailing camouflaged drones.

OOC: Just scene-setting... the Sand is in paranoid mode for some reason. I'm thinking any survivors in the debris cloud will be noting intruders after a bit, sooner or later one gets lucky. Or some local craft will show itself.

((You guys mind if i join your rp ? im a space nation lol ))

Hold of Firefly-class transport Rosen Kavalier

"Gentlefolk, this is your formal briefing." says Jannike Kutusov, resplendent in slick grey armor. "We are approaching the planet designated S003ZA/04. We have confirmed that Oh-Four was lifebearing two hundred and twenty years ago, as well as twenty-seven years ago. At this time, Oh-Four bears no life, has no atmosphere, and has had its orbit altered. The orbital alteration is consistent with a significant loss of mass sometime in the last twenty to fifty years." Diagrams quiver, and it becomes obvious just what order of magnitude the loss of mass belongs to. About right for a forcible removal of the biosphere. All of it. The misson team members go over the facts using channels far more intimate than speech, and the low-bandwidth briefing goes on.

"Recon probes have catalogued several thousand objects in orbit around Oh-Four, consistent with battle debris at least five years old. The debris breaks into two categories. One fits a fairly conventional third-generation insystem fleet and planetary defense structure, and civilian infrastructure. The other is more odd." Broken shipcorpses float, grainily mapped from a long way off, naultili, bristles...

"At first look, this appears to be a wholly biological tech base. And, for what it's worth, so far noone's liked the look of it. Drones and interface craft will proceed to investigate biological wreckage and planetary surface. We're the reserve, and will also act as a boarding party at this object, designated Site One. Quarantine procedures are in effect..."

The black, wedgenosed cruiser drifts closer, slowly dispersing drones and shuttles and one sixty-meter insectile form that could properly be called a ship. On board the Kavalier, the crewfolk and boarders bustle.

It bore a face frozen in a permanent mask of rage. Furious, snarling lips, leathery and course pulled back to reveal a valley of peaked, razor sharp fangs. Each glinted with what little starlight found itself cast through the shattered viewport. outstretched aside its bulbous head, as if to join its still mandibles, long lithe limbs reached. Yet these were not limbs of careful manipulation, they were not designed to carry out the myriad of tasks that the truly versatile humanoid hand could replicate without thought.

Curving outwards, a murderous, undeniable scythe, of sharpened, glistening chitin. A pair of arms whose only purpose was to seek out the soft, all-to-easily breached flesh of another. A black, shining carapace extened over the creature's back, and appearing in plates on limbs, and forehead. As hard as Iron, it gave no inch against the freezing void that sorrounded it. Mottled flesh rippled against external vibration, patches of the most eye-wrenching yellow and orange dotted the skin. Steely cartlidge reinforced key joints as the monsterous being lunged forwards, vacant and utterly incomprehensible orbs staring out from deep within the skull. As black as the purpose behind its creation, and the space that stars shone brightly between.

Yet it did not travel. It's still form floated upwards, rebounding off a bulkhead and slowly descending once more, until on its side, talons outstretched, it came to rest on its side. A revealing crater in its underbelly, where chitin and sinew had been blasted as though they were nothing but fat and gristle, where flesh had been literally cooked, and inner organs savagely caressed with flame. Yet even as this creature had been dealt a killing blow, it had leapt forward to deal death to any who opposed it.

As the Hive Mind commanded, so was it done even in death.


Rebecca sobbed. She struggled to hold back the tears that stung her eyes so and made it difficult to see, to keep a watchful eye on the scene before her. She groaned in irriation as the pressure suit barred her gloved hand from at least wiping the salty droplets from her face. She slumped downards, feeling the oxygen tanks that provided such life-giving sweetness protesting slightly as they bore the brunt of her miniscule weight against the wall. She brought her knees upwards, wrapping her weak arms around them tightly. From her position within the tiny supply cupboard, she could make out the flickering of the corridor lighting beyond the door. A tiny grill set within its unremarkable surface allowing a little light to push through.

Condensation gathered, layering a fine fog against the faceplate at a faster rate than the internal recycler wihtin the suit could compensate for. Her ragged breathing rebounded within the tight confines of the helmet, filling her ears and mind with nothing but her own, undiminshed terror. She closed her eyes tightly, as the trickling tears began to pool underneath her chin. She had long ago released the facade of calm, she no longer struggled against the hopeless, certain fate she would meet. Her eyes lowered, to the filthy, encrusted control interface that adorned her left wrist.

She tapped it idly, the cracked, pitted unit beeping mutedly within the airless environment. Yet nevertheless it prevailed, a small set of figures and computations beginning to cycle through as calculations as vital as anything Rebecca had utlised before were checked and double checked. Finally, the figure she sought was displayed, and a sharp intake of air signalled her acknowledgement.

She had but four hours of livegiving oxygen remaining.

She could not in all honesty remember for how long she had remained within the hide-away. Her brain struggled to comprehend all that had occured as she found herself here. Like a raw, painful wound whose merest existance causes agony, so did Rebecca hurt as she put the events into a perspective that none would fathom, and whose very re-telling was testament to sheer luck, and oppertunity.

They had drifted in-system. Vast, lumbering affairs with bulbous bodies and trailing, lithe tentacles. Boil-like eruptions littered their hulls, even as they pulsed with unseen activity. Powered down, with no drive systems visible or in evidence, they evaded Illustria's complex network of defence platforms and early-warning sensor grids. Their energy profiles consistant with a fleet a tenth of the size of the horrors that moved towards orbit. Smaller, tapered craft darted amongst the larger. Shaped like a rounded cylinder, yet with serrated edges and cruel points that belied their geometric simplicity.

They crept closer. Like a predator might use cover of night to inch ever closer to its sleeping prey, these creatures went undetected until the distance between our clean, fresh air and the depths of the void were almost insignificant. Technology had failed them at the most vital part of its existance. Indeed, only a passing visual confirmation declared in earnest a terror that stalked the stars themselves, and the space between.

Word had barely reached the Govermental departments when they struck. Crashing into the atmospheric defence perimeter like demons from childhood tales, yet in some twisted, nightmarish bedtime story. For these were not the angry, wailing monsters of fiction. THey flashed chitinious blades, and agonising fangs. Their limbs themselves shed thick, gelatinous slime that pooled around their sinewed, muscled legs. Light did nothing but illuminate their full horrors for the transfixed to stare at. Black carapce, as solid and structured as the full body armour deployed by the defenders, yet alive somehow, growing and repairing itself, as insane a notion as that was.

The skies of Illustria were anything but quiet that night. Crimson arcs laced into space, powerful beams of incandescent laser energy tearing into the steel-skin of these biological entities, these "Bioships". Many hissed their defiance even as they spilled torn muscle, ruptured fluids and thousands of aliens themselves into the void. They fell downards, their flesh roasting on the fiery atmosphere as they vapourised explosively. Elsewhere ordered and well worked ordanance crews unloaded warhead after warhead from the missile platforms. Breaking through hardened Chitin and flesh as though it were paper and straw.

Yet they would not relent.

a half dozen Bioships fell away, crippled beyond continued function or torn asunder by the furious retribution of Illustria's defences. But the distances closed, and these monstrous abominations pressed through the withering, cleansing flame until they were upon the defenders. Lashing tentacles tore apart platforms as though they were themselves self-destructing. Great gouges in previously shining, impossibly hard metal making way of huge, sheering rents. From the vast Bioships, hundreds of spores made travel. Though many were vapourised or totally thrown of course by defence lasers and fighter craft, a number survived to make contact with the stations and craft.

The fight moved inside.

Rebecca had seen firsthand of their carnage. She had worked as a targetting engineer for almost eight months, only twice having to call on her talents in a capacity against foe. Both of which were either petty pirate strikes, or foolish neighbouring greed-empires. She kept her eyes closed tightly as she recalled the painful memories of many hours past....


Tal stalked through the small chamber. His eyes set resolutely on the information monitors adorning the wall in front of him. To his left side, Rebecca busied herself under the gutted remains of a console. It's control interface a charred, blackened mess. She hauled various components from its underbelly, cursing occasionally.

"I have lost number four silo." shouted Tal, his face settling into a grim mask.

Rebecca struggled, finally losing patience and smashing her palm againt the upright. She was hopeful for as long as it took the console to flicker to life, before terminating again in a less-than-impressive flurry of sparks, and brand new, now charred components.

Tal's hands flew over the situation monitor, his voice edged with concern.

"Silo three has been compromised, capacitors have overloaded..."

Rebecca climbed to her feet, crossing to stare at the massive blanket of purple that stood barely an inch from the station perimeter, as displayed on the screen graphic. She watched pixellated beams, representing defence laser fire clear a path through the alien fog, only for it to reform with yet more hideous numbers. She groaned as one by one, the silos fell into silence.

"Number one silo is gone. We are defenceless." Tal surmised, stepping back from the now impotent console.

"What the hell are we going to do!" Shouted Rebecca, beginning to feel a rising tide of panic she simply could not ignore or quell, she moved closer to Tal, her lower lip quivering as she struggled with the dread that saturated her soul. She dropped her hands to the side as her gaze became transfixed on the sensor output. The cloud of purple was almost upon them, and nothing could stem its tide.

Tal quicly grabbed her hand, a tight, yet not painful grip he cemented, looking into her eyes with a fierce determination.

"Come, we must flee, to Illustria. This day is lost."

She nodded dumbly, as the pair exited the chamber sharply. They ran into many others, each seeking a similiar saviour. Some ran as quickly as they could manage, bumping and pushing into others in an attempt to remain standing. Others walked, mute. Their eyes betraying their miniscule chances of survival in the face of such horror. Without warning, the decking shuddered violently. Some were thrown to the floor, gasping in shock as they smashed hard against the surface. The station's inertial dampeners worked with dedicated efficiency, quickly restoring relative peace to the mystrious impact. Before Tal and Rebecca could choose their direction, a disembodied voice rang out, on the communication network.

Intruder Alert. Deck nine, starboard quarter.

The milling ceased instantly. The dozens of terrified, resigned, worried adepts remained motionless as they processed the announcement, and its grave consequences. Tal was the first to move, pulling the prone Rebecca along with an urgency all his own. They made all speed to the escape rafts, stationed on the starboard side of the station.

She could hear screams. They were far from them, through twisting pipelines and unending corridors, but they were very real. Agonising wails of a very human origin, beggings and pleadings with these creatures of the night that did not for a second even consider granting the request. As the pair moved through the station, each corridor they occupied become less and less inhabited. By the time they had reached the section containing the life rafts, they were alone.

Tal rounded the corner with speed, struggling to maintain his balance. At the end of the corridor, lay his prize. Never had a set of chamber doors heralded so much happiness, as he recognised the yellow safety trim of the raft housing. The doors remained sealed, the rune next to them a bright, emerald green. The raft was still functional. Rebecca followed closely behind, as they quickly walked towards their saviour. As they came within a few metres of the welcoming sight, a panel above began to vibrate. Tal scowled, stepping forward slightly, and peering at the plating with a curious expression.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and he span round, he screamed at the puzzled Rebecca, gesturing wildly.

"Run!" He bellowed.

Before he had even drawn his next breath,t the panel feel away, and leapt down the stuff of nightmares and madmen. It stood nearly eight feet tall, and grotesque beyond rationality. Its boney, plated head cocked to one side as narrowed, peircing eyes regarded the human pair. It's olfactory nodes twitched, as it breathed deeply their warm, fleshy scent. It produced a small squak that could have almost seemed curious, as if it did not yet understand what stood before it.

Green, layered liquid ran from pores within its mottled, leathery skin. Dripping lazily, it pooled in expanding puddles beneath the stomach of the creature, lubricating and sliding along the shining metallic decking. Opening a muscled maw, three rows of sharpened fangs regarded them with malice. Each row descending deeper into its chasm-like throat, and into darkness.

It presented four, chitinious limbs. Lean and agile, they thered themselves to a slickened thorax with powerful, visible muscle tissue. The upper limbs ended in sweeping blades, murderous scythes that would think nothing of cutting down every man, women and child it could lay eyes or senses on. The lower limbs were different, yet no less deadly. They sported large claws, each with six hooked fingers. Easily sharp enough to rend metal, it would find no barrier against human flesh and blood.

It took a a step forward, infusing the air with fear itself. A bizarre stench drifting. Of blood, and slaughter. Of an implacable foe of unbelievable will and superiority. From claws and folds in its skin, red and pink masses fell. Slick crimson ran from the end of readied scythes, recently bathed in the ichor of Humanity. Eviscerated intenstines dropped from the carapace, shaken free and hitting the hard floor with a disgusting squelch. Straggled human muscle tissue hung from the tips of it's razor-sharp claws, torn free and subject to the alien environment outside of a body.

Tal raised his hands openly, vainly attempting to show the creature he meant no harm. Visibly, he remained calm, yet his chest rose and fell with the breathing effort of ten men. His palms began to slicken through sweat, and his legs trembled at this horrific sight before him. He leaned backwards slightly, whispering to his paralysed partner.

"I want you to prepare yourself. You will get one chance Rebecca, and one only. When I give the word, flee towards the rafts, and do not look back. I shall follow as soon as I am able."

Rebecca opened her mouth to retort, to demand clarifaction, yet she felt a finger to her lips silence her.

"Ask no questions. Just be ready." He chided.

The creature continued to skulk forward, its black orbs devoid of soul, of feeling or pity or remorse. Its serpentine tongue slid out mockingly, hissing in the air with foul intent. Tal slowly moved to the side, yet it mattered little if he had run at full speed, the creature continued closing, totally oblivious to any possible countenance by these pray-that-fought.

Wrenching a fire-retardant dispenser form the wall, Tel began to unlock the safety interface. The long, black seathed tube connecting the barrel he held to the storage tank behind the wall groaning softly at this sudden, unpleasent interruption to its uneventful rest. Tel waited, until the creature was barely ten feet from his fragile body. With a final victorious howl, it leapt forward, limbs outstretched.

Rebecca screamed, even as she closed her eyes, and awaited agony to take her.

Tel flicked the safety off, and felt the barrel buck within his hands. He steadied aim, and watched as a veritable plume of white foam blew the creature out of the air and back to the decking with a hard thud. A furious screech heralded the thrashing of chitinious claws, as the monstriousity struggled to regain its senses, blinded temporarily by the suprise attack.

"Now!" Yelled Tal, dropping the still firing extinguisher to the ground, and pushing Rebecca on.

Finally understanding, she leapt into gear. She ran for dear life, and existance, rushing past the thrashing creature even as it roared its fury, and unsuccesfully attempted to slice her feet from her body with a sweep of its scythes blindly. Tal followed a a second later, barely a foot behind Rebecca and urging her on. He watched as she reached the relative safety of the Escape Raft entryway. He reached his hand to take her by the shoulder, but grimaced as he felt himself fall away towards Terra Firma.

He cried out even as his feet were neatly amputated. Bone, tendon and muscle carved cleanly in two by alien chitin and aggression. He felt agony sear through his being, crashing to the floor with a whimper. He rolled over, on to his back, his vision becoming murky as he fought to retain conscious thought. His nails dug into the metal below, breaking and shattering though he cared not. He could not even quantify the pain that surged through him, even as he felt hot, sticky crimson flow underneath his arms, and hips.

Rebecca, for the second time in as many minutes, screamed. She made to rush by his side. Vitually refusing to acknowlege what she saw before her. Long-time tutor, long-time friend and colleague, and never-entertained lover, butchered so horrifically he could now no longer stand, nor speak. Merely gurgle and drool. Yet from the white cloud, terror returned. Leaping from the retardant, the mutilator screamed furiously. Rebecca did not need to hold a degree within exobiology to realise just how furious this thing had become. It stalked over Tal, standing over his waist with a look of near-glee.

It neatly kicked the severed feet from his shattered ankles, slipping not in the near-pool of blood that now began to drift down the corridor, and away. It raised bloodied scythes upwards, and in one fluid motion, buried one in each shoulder blade of the prone Tal.

He cried out, one final energetic measure of pain, before being hauled into the air. Great streams of crimson splattered against the walls, painting a horrific murial that none coud comment or look upon. Rebecca remained motionless, utterly frozen by the depraved horror she saw before her. She felt blood splatter against her chin, and clothing, and felt the urge to vomit. Yet above the gleeful roar of this beast, she heard a cry.

"Rebecca....please...." Spluttered the savaged Tal, "Go...please..."

She snapped from her trance, a tear rolling from eyelash to cheek. Turning to the wall, she slammed her fist against the launch rune. From either side of the door, jets of coolant began to evacuate loudly, combining with the remaining fire retardant to create a floor-hugging mist that merely aided the seemingly supernatural atmosphere.

Launch sequence activated.. Alerted the uncaring computer system.

This seemed to rouse the alien form tis desecration. Rebecca stepped towards the door, even as a still-gasping Tal was hurled forward. Leaving the barbed scythes behind, his battered form smashed into the bulkhead that terminated the dead-end corridor barely two metres from Rebecca's still form. Crashing into the wall with a sickening crunch, the remains of Weapon Adept Tal Briuoher slid downards, coming to rest, near sitting up, against the floor. His torso, and legs a crimson, crushed mess.

Rebecca did not wait to join her dear friend, throwing herself inside the Raft, she plunged her hand on to the launch rune, only breathing again once the thick blast doors had sealed her from the hell that made itself apparent outside.

The creature banged furiously against the doors, but for now could not breach them. She wasted no time, locking her emotions away for later dealing. Sitting at the helm of the compact, if well designed craft, she keyed in the escape vector. As she moved to initiate the descent to Illustria, she paused. Eyeing the scene outside through the narrow plexiglass cockpit.

The victorious Bioships descended on Illustria with a fury unknownst to her kind in over a millenium. The occasional fireball in orbit marking the destruction of a last, desperate fighter craft, choosing to be destroyed in orbit, than face the ritual slaughter that would surely await her eight billion citizens. She watched as the atmosphere itself changed. Great storms began to form over continents and seas, as though Illustria itself reacted to the invasion. Spores, like those that had assaulted the station and defence platforms, drifted lazily downwards. But now numbering in their thousands, they broke through the fiery atmosphere and moved to land, releasing unspeakable horror.

The sound of metal sheering snapped her back to attention, as the chorus of animalistic cries indicated that she was now the concentrated effort of a group, outside the buckling blast doors. Altering the escape trajectory, she simply programmed the engines to move her to the far side of the planet. She could hope only that these foul aliens did not deem the floating detrius and debris of their crippled defences as worthy quarry.

With a gentle shudder, the raft disengaged from the superstructure, and Rebecca finally allowed herself the pleasure of weeping. The tears came fast and furiously as she watched the biofleet rape her home, Illustria, before her very eyes.




Her story was told, and her time was short. Shuffling within the confines of the tiny storage locker, at the very rear of the raft, she sighed. She had survived for almost four months. A combination of the rugged recycling abilities of the craft, her own unwaivering rationing and her refusal to allow Tal's death to be anything so vain without her survival.

Yet her ingenuity could not change basic fact. Her unending resourcefulness would not magically produce oxygen and water where it did not exist. She had remained here, conserving her bodyheat and limiting her movement, for well over a day. Trapped within the hot, sticky claustraphobic environment of not only the pressure suit, but the tiny craft. She had barely two hours of air remaining, and her reserves were gone. She, like the scorched ball of rock that now remained the only marking of her world, would shortly join the ever-watchful legions of dead, that marked the graveyard of Illustria prime.

And the feeding grounds of the Great Devourer.

Wreck

The probe was a small, simple thing. Deliberately so - it was cheap in mass and fabrication capability. Fission plant, diamond hull, tiny harness drive, sensors, comms. It looked a lot like a soap bubble a foot across, with a half-molten mess of grey sludge inside.

Now it and its siblings move through one of what has been classified the lowest threat set of targets - an organic vessel designated Site Four. Slowly it drifts, turning on gyros. The drone is an imbecile, so is the entire swarm. The crewfolk in the droneswarm's sensorium aren't.

Realspace

Clawed fingers smash into wood.

obrien: jesu, that's ugly. still...

Raised eyebrow analogue from Dingane O'Brien. With a low snarl, Julia Connors subsides, pulling fingers out of the paneling. Near-subsonic rumble from aorta as she clamps down on her endorphin response. Smashing things on ship, bad form, better to endure a bit of pain than just restore working order.

connors: reflexive response. sorry, lieutenant.

obrien: <frown analogue> can i look at your log for the last seconds?

connors: certainly.

The drones dance on, stupid as bumblebees, uncovering more and more of the stricken bioship.And Dingane looks over his fellow crewmember's logs. At 014533.985 the creature's image was transmitted. At 014534.050 Private Connors' hand was in the wood paneling.

connors: are you thinking what i'm thinking

"Probably. But instinctive responses aside, we don't know who the aggressor is here."

Rosen Kavalier mindscape



Jannike takes point on the target assessment as Site One looms closer; twisted metal, holed skin, a wreck marked by acids and claws and less obvious things. Torn apart.



Now, don't go humanocentric on me, she reflects deliberately. There are two working hypotheses here and there's no real evidence as to which side stripped Oh-Four bare. One, the biomechanoids, two the roughly humanoid species... one, in an act of aggression, two, in an act of defense. Take your pick.



The boarding party moves in, alert, drones in attendance. A composite is built, gradually. Crew massacred it seems, but little enough remains. Blood here, gobbets there, frozen and dessicated. Quick samples taken as they move on, aware that if the humanoids did this a certain thing is likely present. An ecophagous nanosystem, or in layman's terms the thing you don't want to find because you'll more likely be eaten or go up in a sterilizing fireball than live.



Of course, there seems to be theoretical limits to that sort of thing. Seem.



Computers snap crewfolk out of these little loops, raising amber flags about morale. It's a deatworld you nonsapient twit growls the tenous shipmind, slapping the NAI down.



Nothing.



Nothing.



completing analysis of first samples. out of twelve in firs batch seven are consistent with baseline human. one with common cockroach. four with general coding scheme of macroorganism ship.



So it's humans. Or rather it was humans.



kutusov: continue sweep, maintain integrity alert. and realtime links.



She pops out on the other side. Helmet sensors scan the heavens, bypassing eyes entirely.



kutusov: i'll be wanting verbalized repots if you find anything interesting. don't hush even if it's a grave. Pause. heatsource, near orbit. sand, kavalier, check it.



There isn't much that makes heat here save for sunlight - still, there're some things. Kutusov's a spacer though, and her hindbrain is a good complement to the nanobabbages in her skull.



She drifts over, covered by two of the boarding crew standing on the hull; hands visible, onboard FCS wired into missile launchers clamped onto hull.



A smooth grey humanoid drifts near the raft, braking with no visible thrust. No apparent data ports, well...



A microphone goes on the hull, and as Rosen Kavalier moves in for pickup Jannike Kutusov initiates first contact. With a wrench.