Hunter on the Infinite
Star cruiser Infinite, Vega system. October 17th, 2432. 7:42 AM.
Doctor March was terrified. He had been running for 10 minutes. He could barely remember what it was that had come after him, only that some primeval instinct told him to keep running. He rounded a corner. And screamed. There, standing in front of him, was a tall black alien. “Go away,” he screamed. “What the hell do you want with me?!”
And then it spoke. The voice was crystal clear, as if it were in his mind. “You are not welcome here. This is our world!” It raised something, a rod of some kind. It touched him with it. The last thing Andre March felt was a sudden, intense burst of pain. The last human aboard the Infinite dropped to the floor with a quiet whimper.
UNISD Bomber Ship Shockwave, Vega system. October 17th, 2432. 12:35 PM.
Sergeant Manson of the United Nations Inter-Stellar Division was worried. The huge Asgard space station, where he had come from, had the nearest warp tunnel to the research/colonisation/exploration star cruiser Infinite. That was why he was on the ship.
They had not offered a real explanation, but they had given him the best weaponry, and brought along a cyborg too. That was enough to make anyone suspicious, even the grunts.
He turned to one of the cyborgs. “So what do you think it is?” he asked.
“No idea. The Krah’akk, maybe?” replied the cyborg.
“Nope. It’s still too big a deal.” The Krah’akk were an aggressive race from Epsilon Eridani. They were reliant on their brute strength to win, not technology, unlike humans. Powerful and with a vast empire, they had become humanity’s greatest enemies in the battle for control over the galaxy.
“Hey Manson. We’re docking.” said the cyborg.
Star cruiser Infinite, Vega system. October 17th, 2432. 12:42 PM.
Manson bit his lip. Something was wrong. They had been wandering around for 5 minutes. All they had found were bodies. The corpses were all fine and completely healthy, with no shock burns, bullet holes, or even bruises. It seemed that their bodily functions had all ceased at once. Even the tough cyborgs were shaking.
“Let’s split up.” said a worried Manson. And they did. Up in the ship’s security deck, in front of a monitor, a tall black alien smiled to itself.
Two hours later
The cyborg shivered. He clutched his rail gun, despite it being surgically attached. There, sprawled bleeding on the metal floor, was the alien. He had done it. He had killed the alien. He was already thinking about the rewards and did not notice the alien twitch. Then he felt a sudden burst of intense pain.
Manson, having witnessed the scene, radioed the rest of the squad. “Get to the docking point! We need to leave now! He sprinted off.
Meanwhile, Jasper Green was in pain. The marine had tripped and cut himself open. He had been about to become a sergeant. As he lay there bleeding, he wondered, with a sad half-smile, who was going to get the position. Probably someone on the other side of the galaxy. He felt useless, expendable. He spiralled into unconsciousness.
Manson had reached the docking point. He waited. Of the team of ten, only two others made it there. “Where the hell are the rest?!” yelled Manson, fearing the worst. “You don’t want to know,” was the reply. “Come on before it gets us!” They boarded the bomber.
On the ship, they discussed the events.
“Look, whatever it is, it’s on that ship. It killed everyone on board. Let’s go back for it!”
“No! The others tried that, and it slaughtered the lot! Besides, the crew were trying to colonise the planet. D’you think…?”
“I don’t care if it was defending itself! It’s time for revenge!”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Manson leaned over the pilot’s chair. “I suggest we blow the damn thing up.”
“Okay” was the reply.
Back on the ship, the alien was furious. The Terrans knew. There was a war coming. And it would start with the missile speeding towards the ship. At least the injured human would die with him. One last thought entered his head. He had failed. He slipped into the claws of death gladly as the massive ship exploded.