The Nebula Dancer Reaches Veridian
Three sentinel-class warships closed on the large cruise-liner approaching the planet of Veridian.
The radio on the bridge of the Nebula Dancer squawked three tones, and then the following communication, “Cruise-liner Nebula Dancer, halt your re-entry approach, and fall into high orbit...you need to be cleared before re-entry. Cease your approach, or you will be fired upon.”
On the bridge, three horrific figures wearing clear space helmets and torn space suits were at the controls. One was piloting, its gelatinous tentacle hands on the controls. One was operating the scanning and communications console. The last was standing near the controls for the Nebula Dancer’s limited self-defense array. A crowd of floating creatures, seeming made of jelly with a thin transparent skin and long stringy tentacles hanging downward, surrounded the perimeter of the room. One of these alien creatures appeared to be feasting on the body of an old man, dressed in a tattered captain’s uniform. The old man’s face was frozen in a look of shock and terror.
The alien-hybrid at the communications console answered. “US has left our home, and seek new homes. US was told Veridian was a good home with good people.”
The Veridian Navy’s answer over the radio was terse. “God dammit, cease your approach, or we’ll destroy your ship.”
In the distance, a bastion-class capital ship was making a slow turn to join the engagement. Several squadrons of warden interceptors spilled out of the capital ship’s landing bays.
The alien-hybrid at the radio answered made garbled noises at the pilot, and he activated reverse rockets to cease forward movement and leave the ship in high orbit. “US was told Veridian was good people. US would like to enjoy the good people. How do US do that? What do you require of US?”
The bastion-class capital ship had completed its turn, and all forward batteries were pointed at the Nebula Dancer. Warden interceptors were buzzing around the cruise-liner, like a cloud of flies around a decaying corpse, while the three sentinel-class ships had positioned themselves off its bow. “Our records show you’re about 45 years late reaching port. So, you’re either scrappers that found an old space-wreck, or pirates. What’s your business here?”
“US had a home, and thought it was the only home. But we met beings that were not US, that were not from the only home. US realized there were other US’s, and other homes. Us wants to meet your US, and find more than one home.”
There was a long pause before the answer from the Veridian navy came over the radio. “We have no idea what the fuck your talking about. Will you submit peacefully to us sending a team aboard to assess the situation? If you attempt to land, we will destroy you. If you attempt to leave, we will destroy you. If you fire that defense array, we will destroy you. If you attempt to harm our people, we will destroy you. Do you understand?”
The three alien-hybrids looked at one another, with their multiple odd shaped eyes. They made garbled noises to each other. While they conversed, the jellyfish like alien devouring the old Captain, stopped eating, and started shoving its tentacle-like strands into the corpse’s flesh, and began pulling itself into his body.
“US do not wish to be destroyed. US will allow you to come aboard.”
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The boarding craft Red Stag docked with the Nebula Dancer with 10 souls aboard. Sergeant Stott looked over his armored boarding squad. It was a tight crew. They had their shit together, and Sgt. Stott gave them some encouragement as the boarding tube audibly locked into place. “Okay, boys. Not sure if we’re dealing with some fucking crazy scavengers rabid with space fever, or some kind of pirate trickery. But, safety’s off. Anyone or anything looks threatening, put it down. Put it fucking down, and we’ll worry about when we’re doing paperwork later. Vac-suits sealed...safety’s off...let’s go!”
The boarding squad entered the boarding tube, the door closed behind them, and the door into the Nebula Dancer opened up. A dark hallway stretched before them, with only the emergency lights along the floor providing any illumination. Sgt. Stott led the way aboard the cruise-liner, gun at the ready, his squad following tactically behind him.
They stopped at the first door in the hall, and Boarder Michaels made a few adjustments on a special com-pad mounted to his wrist. The door locks obeyed the security override, and the door slid open. Three squad members entered the room, guns lowered into firing position. They found three corpses littered about the room, partially mummified from decades of desiccation. Even thought the dead bodies were little more than skeletons with thin papery skin stretched over the bones, the cause of death was obvious. Each of their heads had large exit wounds, as though a large round had gone through their heads, or an explosive had gone off in their brains.
Boarder Sippo walked over to a data terminal on the wall, and plugged a small device into it. “Line shunt deployed, Sergeant. With everything on emergency power, it will take a minute for it to worm its way in...”
“Um…” Boarder Jenkins was looking intensely at a com-pad on his wrist. “...Sarge, environmental scans are picking up luminaric crystal contamination...well...I’m also picking up luminaric drifter spores in the air. Fuck.”
Sgt. Stott took in the scene from the open doorway. “Um, okay. This situation might be a little more fucked up than we even imagined. I need you guys focused...I need you guys...fuck, fuck, fuck. I need you guys to turn it up a notch on this one.”
They found a similar scene inside the room at the second doorway, and again at the third. The squad reached a four-way intersection in the hallway. Forward, right, and left the emergency lights had failed, and the hallways were in utter darkness. “Switch to night vision, boys.”
Sgt. Stott took a step forward, and his foot slipped a little as he put his weight on it. He crouched down, and ran a gloved finger through a puddle of goop on the floor. “What the fuck?”
From the three dark hallways, a ranked wall of floating semi-translucent forms were rushing toward the squad. The men started yelling, and everything was lit up in gunfire. Sgt. Stott laid down fire straight ahead of him, watching the wall of jellyfish like creatures erupt in explosions of goo and fluids as the bullets ripped through them. “Pull back...pull back….”
But, it was too late. For every one of them they dropped, there were two behind it...and the crush of alien creatures slammed into Sgt Stott and the first few men of the squad. Their screams came over the coms, as these men were subsumed into the mass of tentacles and jelly. The remaining seven men made a fighting retreat, throwing grenades and firing their guns wildly into the mass of alien creatures pressing them backward down the hall.
The remaining members of the squad made it into the boarding tube, and closed the door behind them. They heard the impact of the advancing mass of jelly slam against the inside of the door. Boarder Jenkins took command. “Release the tube! Release the tube! The sphincter-door at the end of the tube closed as the tube pulled away from the Nebula Dancer, and the atmospheric stabilizers re-filled the tube with the pressure that had been lost. The men made their way back into the Red Stag, and Boarder Jenkins started maneuvering their boarding ship clear of the cruise-liner. He jumped on the coms. “Veridian command. Ship occupants are alien and hostile. Sgt. Stott and two boarders are dead. Luminaric contamination and drifter readings on-board. Copy?”
“This is Veridian Command. We copy. All gunners, ready weapons, and fire on our mark.”
The Red Stag flew away from the Nebula Dancer, attempting to get enough distance to not be caught in the cross fire. Boarder Jenkins keyed his radio. “We’re almost clear...ten seconds to green zone.”
“Copy, Red Stag. Gunners, ready. On our mark.”
Sgt. Stott’s voice came over the radio. “Red Stag, return to Nebula Dancer for retrieval. Boarder Michaels, Tomas, and I are alive and well. Us requests retrieval.” There was something odd about Sgt. Stott’s voice. Something cold and lacking the fire and emotion the sergeant usually displayed. And he had used the word “us” in much the same way the occupants of the Nebula Dancer had done in the initial radio communications.
Boarder Jenkins turned away from his piloting controls, his eyes wide and fearful. “Are you hearing this guys?”
The surviving boarders looked terrified and confused. Boarder Sippo yelled out, “Oh, hell no!”
“This is Veridian Command. Are you picking up Sgt. Stott’s transmissions? What are your instructions?”
Boarder Jenkins nervously licked his lips, and turned back to the piloting controls. “Red Stag is in the green zone. We do not believe that is Sgt. Stott calling us back. Fire at will. I repeat, Fire at will!”
“This is Veridian Command, 5...4...3...2...fire all batteries!”
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The three sentinel-class cruisers opened fire with grav cannons, causing counter-manding gravitic fields to form within the Nebular Dancer, beginning the process of tearing the ship to pieces. One of the sentinel-class ships projected a spike inversion that through a beam of meta-dimensional energy through the heart of the cruise-liner.
The bastion-class capital ship then let loose with multiple volleys of mass cannon fire, and rounds the size of fighter ships ripped straight through the Nebula Dancer, carrying away comet tails of debris as they erupted out the other side. The Veridian Navy continued firing for several minutes, shredding the Nebula Dancer to pieces.
“Cease fire.” Aboard the bastion-class capital ship, The Intrepid, Admiral Victor Dracon rubbed his chin. As he looked out upon the debris of the Nebula Dancer, he smiled. “Firepower the Celestial Commander would have approved of...I have no doubt. Praise Jesus Christ, the eternal warrior.”
Aboard the large bridge of the Intrepid, over a dozen technicians were furiously at work at their stations. Admiral Dracon walked over, and stood near a thin young man with a black shock of hair. “Ensign? Projections on re-entry angle for the debris? Is it going to get hot enough to cook off those drifters?”
“Yes, Sir. Projections show a 98% chance of complete burn-off.”
“Well, let’s not leave it to chance. Notify planet-side defenses and emergency response. We’re going to want containment and decontamination protocols enacted. Danger status: Alpha. No holds barred. They have full authority to do whatever it takes to ensure zero spread.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Admiral Dracon watched as the leading edge of the debris began to heat up and trail fire. He walked over to another technician’s station, and crouched down to better view the technician’s screen. “Ensign, please tell me we were able to retrieve some data.”
The ensign looked nervous, as he clacked away on the consoles interface. “I didn’t have as much time as I would have liked….”
Admiral Dracon smiled a wolf’s smile. “You had the time you had. Now what did you capture?”
The ensign hit a button, and pulled his hands back from the console. Data began scrolling up the screen on his console. “Admiral, we have significant data extraction through the line shunt. Flight logs, radio logs, a manifest, crew and passenger data….we got most of it before the firing started.”
Admiral Dracon stood up, smoothing out his uniform with his hand. “Send the data for full analysis. I want to know where that cruise-liner came from, and who’s responsible for this cluster-fuck.”
