Incursion Protocol

"Uhura, open hailing frequencies," I mumbled.

"What?" Faleun grunted, still untangling herself from the pile of tools and scattered gear.

"Never mind," I said, reaching forward to accept the incoming hail.

Solas’ face filled the console, glowing horns and all. Unlike the Slipscale and Dulox, Solas didn’t have a mouth, but the fury in his expression was unmistakable. The once calm, almost detached alien we had encountered before was gone. Now, his large eyes were narrowed in rage, and the ridged skin of his face bunched together as he seethed.

"You! What have you done?" he screamed, his pulsating horns casting a harsh glow. His voice, though disembodied, crashed through the speakers, reverberating with a raw fury. "You’ve destroyed my space elevator! Do you have any idea what you've cost me? Months of work, millions of credits, and nearly my entire supply of Biofuel, gone! All because of you!"

He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes burning with rage. "You think you can just waltz in, ruin everything, and escape? I will make sure you pay for this, both of you!"

“You know,” I said, leaning back in the chair, letting him get a full view of my bloody face, “we were actually leaving. Running from your Dulox patrols, ready to take off into space, fully willing to get out of your-" I paused, about to say hair, but caught myself, glancing at atop his head instead, "-your horns. But no, you just had to send a whole swarm of drones after us.”

I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees, voice calm, cold. “Here’s the thing, Solas. You want to play games? Bicker over planets and resources? Fine. We’ll play that game: good old-fashioned warfare. Hell, it feels like that’s what The System wants. This whole setup, gamifying tech and levels instead of just kicking invaders out? It’s designed for conflict. It wants us to fight.”

I paused, letting the weight of my words settle in. My eyes narrowed as I leaned in closer. “But when you start bombing civilians, when your goal shifts from control to wiping us out?” My voice dropped, the threat unmistakable. “We’ll do everything in our power to destroy you.”

The console crackled, and Solas’s voice came through, sharper than before, but with a hint of exasperation. “You really think this is all on me? You don’t get it, do you? The only reason I’m here, the only reason any of this is happening, is because I have to prepare for the invasion. You’ve pushed us to this. The System anticipated an attack, and you’re the proof of it. That bombing? That was retribution for what you did to the space elevator. You think we can just let that slide?”

There was a pause, as if he was weighing his next words. “I’m not here for mindless destruction. I’m doing what I have to, to protect what’s mine. The bombing wasn’t the plan until you escalated things. You hit us, we hit back. That’s how it works. If you hadn’t crippled the elevator, none of this would’ve happened. But you did.”

“And the Slipscale? The Dulox? Are they just little pawns in your game? To use and discard at your whims?”

Solas scoffed. “Why, yes. What else would they be? We’re talking about a galactic, wide-scale invasion. So what if a couple of backwater species get thrown into the war machine? It is my right as the Cinek Archon to bolster my people for the onslaught that your-”

With a soft click, Faleun leaned over my seat and tapped at the console.

“He is wrong,” she said, her tone hard. “My people are-”

“Hello, excuse me?” Solas’ voice crackled from the console. “Are you still there? I cannot seem to-”

Faleun tapped the console again, a scowl crossing her face.

“Nope, I’m still here. Maybe the disconnect button on your console is damaged? I can see your ship is quite the mess just from the video feed-”

The Slipscale angrily mashed at the screen, and finally, Solas’ image flickered away. She took a calming breath and resumed her statement. “My people are not just pawns to be thrown in front of a tsunami of shadowy invaders. We live. We breathe. We protect the Sacred Coral.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry, Faleun. If it weren’t for me, you’d never have gotten dragged into this mess.”

“From what you have told me-”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “You’re right, I know there’s only so much blame I can take, but I still want to wear it, okay? As much as I want to shrug and say, ‘Not my fault, I just took the wrong left turn into your dimension,’ I still feel responsible for it all. Your people, having their lives drained away every day diving for resources for a war effort? It’s not okay. Even the Dulox, while I still have my reservations about them not being homicidal, crescent-headed freaks, they might just be under the Cinek’s thumb too.”

We let the silence stretch out between us for a moment before Faleun spoke again. “So what now?”

“Good question,” I said, leaning forward and wiping some of my blood off the console. “Looks like we were heading out of the solar system at a good clip, thanks to our little Messel Run that we took through the station. We’re banged up, but unless Solas has some serious sensors, he won’t be able to find us once we get underway.”

She nodded, folding her arms across her chestplate.

“I’ve got a little hideaway we can use to bang the dents out of the hull, rest up for a bit. Once the heat dies down, I’ll drop you back off at your village. Task complete: Station destroyed. Most of Solas’ fleet was hanging around the counterweight as it went kablooey, any survivors will probably be high-tailing it to somewhere less hectic to lick their wounds.”

“I’m not going back,” she said, folding her arms tighter.

“The Invader title isn’t ideal, I know. Maybe, just maybe, once I kick you off the ship and into the sand, shake my fist dramatically, and fly off, the title will fade away. I’m sure they won’t give you that much trouble, especially after we blew up the space elevator.”

“Regardless of the title, I will continue with you,” she said firmly.

“Why?” I asked, incredulous. “Joining me in this underleveled ship that was almost turned into a finely atomized debris cloud isn’t exactly a smart choice.”

“With the Cinek and Dulox around, it won’t take long before they come back to my home. My people aren’t ready to fight invaders from the sky,” she said, turning her head away. “If I am to fight these aliens, I need a mediocre pilot to ferry me around the stars.”

I gaped at her. “Did you not see how I fucking flew through that space station? If it weren’t for my amazing piloting, we-”

She ignored me and poked at a hissing crack in the hull, watching how the pressure tugged at her scales.

“Oh, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Slipscale do not mess,” she said flatly.

I limped the Strommäsk Test Vehicle back to the Mining Station. The ship had gained a few levels thanks to its part in the station attack, but I had pushed the notifications away, too banged up myself to care. The flight back was through empty space and I didn’t foresee us running into anybody on our way back. I’d revisit the levels once I got a better handle on the ship and in which direction I would upgrade her.

The damage we’d sustained had been almost too much: any bigger holes, a bit more frame damage, and we wouldn’t have made it. Even though we’d escaped through the counterweight, that last explosion nearly punched our ticket. I patched up the larger breaches, and we were spaceworthy again, though the engine sputtered and complained the whole way. But we made it.

“My roommates are a little weird,” I warned Faleun as the airlock opened and we stepped into the station. “But they pay rent on time, keep the noise down, and stay out of my room. Couldn’t ask for much more.”

She rolled her eyes, following me down the corridor.

“See, Faleun, that was a joke. In my culture, it’s polite to laugh when someone tells a hilarious joke.”

“The Slipscale have jokes. Yours are just not amusing.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, like a petulant child. “Then tell me one. Let’s see how good Slipscale humor is.”

She thought for a moment. “Why did the fish swim away from the Slipscale?”

“Why?” I asked, playing along.

“Because it heard a Slipscale’s favorite dish is ‘anything that swims.’”

I could see her jaw quivering as she held in a laugh, and that sent me over the edge. I burst into uncontrollable laughter at her bad joke, the kind that you try to stop, but as soon as you think you’ve got it under control, it bubbles back up and you can’t help it.

After a few minutes, I finally caught my breath and wiped at my eyes, stomach sore. “Thanks, Fae, I needed that.”

She looked smug, the corners of her gecko snout pulling up in satisfaction.

“Alright, don’t get too big of a head, it wasn’t that-”

She pushed me against the wall with her forearm, crouching low. “Quiet!” she hissed. “Dulox approach.”

“Stop, stop!” I gagged, her forearm pressing into my throat as I tried to push her back. She brandished a coral dagger slipped from between plates of her armor. “Those are my roommates I told you about!”

We stood awkwardly in the mining station’s control room, Faleun and I surrounded by a smattering of Kleeth and the Dulox they rode. I’d grown up on stories and movies about mind-controlling parasites, facehuggers, body snatchers, all that. Hell, I’d even watched a nature documentary about a real-life wasp on Earth that stings a cockroach in the brain and casually walks it back to her lair. Pretty wicked stuff. Faleun, though? It would be understandable to have your brain break a little when confronted with both the concept and reality at once.

“So, yeah,” I finished, “that’s how the Kleeth and I became friends.”

Faleun swallowed hard, her eyes darting nervously at the Dulox, with the strange aliens perched on their heads.

I turned my attention away from the jittery gecko and back to the Kleeth matriarch. “So, how’ve things been shaping up around here? I see you’ve cleaned up the place.” Leaning toward Faleun, I added quietly, “There was a lot of blood.”

“Things doing well,” the larger, striped Kleeth said, bouncing happily on its Dulox’s head. “We make many strides while you gone. Station work well with your directions. Lots of ore. Kleeth gain level or two!”

“That’s awesome,” I exclaimed, reaching out to finger-bump the little Kleeth. “I knew our alliance would work for both of us.”

I leaned in slightly, studying the Kleeth matriarch, and it took a small step back with its Dulox.

“Interesting,” I said, eyeing it.

“What mean?”

“Interesting that the Kleeth don’t have the Invader tag. We even made a System-recognized alliance!” I scratched my chin, still examining the aliens. “Maybe a simple alliance isn’t enough for The System to slap you with the title. If I met a trader and got a bunch of cool weapons, I bet they wouldn’t be branded as Invaders either. Maybe it’s something like that. If you’re not working directly with me, you won’t get the title.”

The Kleeth shrugged. “We targeted by Dulox even with no title.”

“True, true,” I muttered, dropping the subject. The System was mysterious and dickish in its ways, so who was I to question its almighty decisions?

“Fae, you alright?” I asked, noticing the Slipscale still looking jittery.

“I am fine. I have never been this close to a Dulox without it trying to kill me.”

“You’re alright. They’re not a threat, right, uh, Kleeth Mother?” I wasn’t even sure if the Kleeth had names, I hadn’t heard any others speak, maybe they were some kind of hive mind.

The Kleeth matriarch didn’t seem to mind the title. “A Dulox with a host is no threat to anyone.”

“Great!” I said, clapping my hands together. “Glad that’s settled.”

Faleun did not look reassured in the slightest.

“Now come here, Fae, I need to get your measurements.”

She shot me a look, eyes narrowing in suspicion, clearly forgetting about the Dulox for a moment.

Fantastic. Because nothing screams ‘trust me’ like asking someone if you can measure them after a near-death experience.