Sk-12. The Battle for Crabworld

Along a windswept stretch of barren purple glacier gleaming beneath a huge red sun, a single four-limbed creature loped along without purpose.

Its cross-shaped central shell, speckled grey-brown, hovered two meters off the ground, held aloft by four prehensile pink tentacle-legs which sprouted from each shelltip. In the very center of the shell’s ridges sat a glistening maw, filled with white, pearlescent teeth that would have been the envy of any dentist were they not ten times too large.

This toothy cross-shaped tentacle creature ambled along the glacier, continuing its low-energy search pattern. No thoughts filled its mind, only a simple repetition of instructions:

TARGET NOT FOUND. CONTINUE SEARCH PATTERN.

TARGET NOT FOUND. CONTINUE SEARCH PATTERN.

TARGET NOT FOUND. CONTINUE SEARCH PATTERN.

TARGET NOT FOUND. CONTINUE SEARCH PATTERN.

This was all it had to do. It had landed off-course, many kilometers away from the others, and barring any further instructions it simply followed its biological programming, meandering around in an ever-widening spiral pattern and endlessly searching for a target. It would do so until it ran out of metabolic energy and collapsed, insensate, to the ground.

The creature had no meaningful perception of time, so it did not understand how long elapsed between when it landed and when it heard the sonic boom. Overhead, 42 lines of fire streaked across the sky, heading directly for the planet’s southern pole. Extending a tentacle upwards, it drank in radiation from the fire-streaks, recognizing telltale spectra lines that told of computer technology and warp drive.

TARGET DETECTED. ALTERING COURSE.

The creature stopped its spiral search pattern and instead matched its course to follow the streaks. They had valuable integrated circuitry within, a priority resource… and their warp capability made them a priority threat.

TARGET CENTERED. PROCEEDING TO TARGET.

PROCEEDING TO TARGET.

PROCEEDING TO TARGET.

PROCEEDING TO TARGET.

And thus its new purpose in life was cemented. The target it sought was now hundreds of kilometers away, but the Sarcophage Crucivore would now walk towards it ceaselessly until another more lucrative target presented itself.

Such was its way. No soul to speak of, no higher reasoning capacity, self-awareness, or even the basic capacity to express emotion. It simply marched along, target in sight and all else beyond its understanding or interest.

******

One hundred kilometers above the wandering Crucivore, a far more exciting series of events was taking place. A swarm of millions of Sarcophage of every type surged forwards, like a wave cresting near the shore, and dashed themselves on several hundred Gravity Frames which cut them all to ribbons with practiced ease.

“Y’know,” Miette said as she sighted and vaporized a flailing Clawtooth, “I remember this used to be a lot harder.”

Sveta shrugged. “We’ve had seven years to refine our technology and tactics, whereas the Sarcophage only respond to the blind forces of natural selection. With our stimuli absent from their environment, they un-adapted to us. Don’t get too comfortable, however.”

Miette quirked an eyebrow as she mentally directed two Strike Fins to vaporize a Spineball attacking from behind. “Because they might surprise us?”

“No, because our battle group could empty our entire arsenal into that swarm and they’d still keep coming.”

Miette scowled. “Good point. Might as well bring in the heavyweights. Do we have lower planetary orbit cleared yet?”

Sveta collated data from the other squadrons. “Just twenty more seconds.”

Miette grinned. “Then start feeding firing solutions back to Laria and give me fleetwide.”

Sveta transmitted the solutions and confirmed strike timing, then opened a broad-spectrum encrypted gravcomm. “You’re on.”

Miette cleared her throat. “Attention all pilots of Battle Group Two: we’ve almost completed clearing LPO. With this, no more Sarcophage will descend to threaten the crabs below. Good work. Now we’re moving on to phase 2 of the battle plan… wide-scale artillery bombardment from the Radiolaria to soften up the greater swarm in MPO. Everyone get to your spotter positions as soon as your sectors are clear and report ready. We're pulling double-duty on planetary defense screening, so make sure to vaporize any large fragments of debris that are in danger of entering Crabworld's atmosphere, or paint them for Laria if they're too big to take out solo. Squad commanders, repeat instructions back to me to certify receipt and understanding.”

The five squadron commanders presently deployed all responded affirmatively, and the great swarm of Gravity Frames surrounding Crabworld began to reposition themselves. Miette watched with a lopsided grin on her face.

“Ah, I always love this part.”

Sveta chuckled. “Bit of an artillery junkie, are we? Well, I hope phase 2 doesn’t drag on for too long. Genevi’s chomping at her leash; if we don’t let her out soon she might start attacking our people.”

Miette laughed drily. “True enough. Tell her to relax, there will be plenty of swarm left for her to tear apart. They make these fuckers en masse, after all.”

Miette and Sveta watched in satisfaction as the guns of the Radiolaria Galactica barked to life, blanketing the oncoming swarm in a torrent of Cherenkov-blue positron fire. The sight of that massive hail of destructive energy blossoming outwards in every direction, its might eclipsing even the Almaz stations of yore, was impressive… but it was surpassed a moment later as the barrel of one of the great gravitic railcannons flashed blindingly bright and belched out a kilometer-long rod of steel at 92% of lightspeed. Sveta’s sensors were barely able to track the projectile’s near-relativistic movement for a microsecond before it slammed into the swarm, releasing a burst of energy bright as a miniature supernova. Every Sarcophage within a million kilometers of the attack was vaporized, punching a gaping hole in the swarm’s very center.

“Nice,” Miette said approvingly.

“The Sveta Maneuver writ large,” Sveta added with similar admiration. “For all their alien horror, the Sarcophage can’t oppose the laws of Sir Isaac Newton. What a beautiful sight.”

“Here’s hoping our friends on the surface are having just as much success,” Miette said as the glow of the impact faded. “I might send down some squadrons once we can spare them.”

There was a moment of silence, then Sveta responded in a near-whisper. “Yeah. I’m worried about them too.”

******

One hundred kilometers below the raging space battle and two hundred kilometers to the south, 42 Gravity Frames flew a terrain masking approach towards the southern pole. Hugging the landscape only fifty meters above the surface made them harder to detect, thus keeping the Sarcophage ground-swarm off balance as to where they might be attacking from.

“Anything yet?” Lydia asked for the umpteenth time, tapping Kometka’s controls nervously.

Kometka shook her head. “EM and gravitic comms are both down.”

Lydia punched “Urgh. Damn it… I thought gravcomm was supposed to be immune to jamming.”

“Nothing is immune to jamming,” Kometka responded. “That said, I believe the mass of this planet might be throwing off my calibrations. We tested this system on Earth, where the gravity is lower. Let me try and recalibrate.”

There was a minute of silence, and Lydia distracted herself by scanning the terrain racing by below. Then, slowly, the sound of hissing static filled the cockpit.

“Wh-” Lydia began, then clamped her jaw shut as she heard a familiar tone in the static. She leaned forwards and strained to hear the words. “I can’t make it out…”

“It’s a military distress beacon,” Kometka explained. “I’m bringing up the human-readable metadata now.”

A box of text popped up in the center of Lydia’s vision and she scanned the words quickly.

“-TACT IMMEDIATLEY. Origin: Sveta Instance 22dinosaur@meteor117, TD-1422898. Coordinates: 64°31′48″S 137°51′36″E. GENERAL DISTRESS. ENEMY ATTACK IN PROGRESS. REINFORCEMENTS URGENTLY NEEDED. ESTABLISH BROADBAND CONTANCT IMMEDIATLEY. Origin: Sveta Instance 22dinosaur@meteor117, TD-1422898. Coordinates: 64°31′48″S 137°51′36″E. GENERAL DISTRESS. ENEMY ATTACK IN PROGRE-”

Just as Lydia finished reading, the local instance of Sveta popped up in the cockpit beside Kometka. “I’ve adjusted the Battle Group One’s heading to match the coordinates. We should arrive in twelve minutes.”

Lydia grimaced. “Can you establish broadband contact? 22dino seems adamant on that point.”

“I’m trying,” Sveta grumbled. “If I had a few dozen more Gravity Frames I might be able to form a larger antenna. Why do you think she’s so desperate for broadband contact anyway?”

“Couldn’t guess,” Lydia replied. “Possibly she has some information critical to the battle’s success, or…”

Sveta and Komeka regarded her curiously as she trailed off. “Or?” the former repeated.

Lydia shook her head to rattle out that particular thought. “Nevermind. Keep trying to establish that broadband link, Sveta.”

Sveta looked at her quizzically, but didn’t ask. “Aye-aye,” she responded, and vanished with a salute.

“Kometka, open a comm to Lyle’s Frame, please.”

Kometka’s eyes narrowed and she silently complied.

The forlorn pilot’s gaze snapped to Lydia as the two-way video comm window linked them. “Ma’am?”

Lydia half-smiled. “I thought you might like to know… we’ve picked up an automated distress beacon from Sveta Instance 22dino, the one assigned to Hunter. We’re trying to establish broadband comms now. We’ll arrive at her coordinates in 11.5 minutes.”

Through the comm window Lydia saw Lyle’s trembling knuckles whiten as he tightened his grip around his Frame’s controls. “Thank you for the update, Senior Captain.”

Lydia studied Lyle for a moment, then leaned forwards. “Your hands are unsteady from anger, so listen carefully. When we go in, take it low and slow. Double-check your targets and lag a quarter-second on firing. Play out the friction zone if you have to, but remember to keep your bursts controlled at three rounds per. AT12-SKGS hovering mode should steady your shots the most.”

Lyle’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“Just do what I say,” Lydia responded tersely. “Rescuing Hunter will do us no good if you die in the process. AT12, double-check, lag quarter, slow zone, three-round bursts. Repeat and certify understanding.”

“R-Roger. AT-12 at stationkeeping geostationary, double-check, lag quarter, slow zone, three-round. Received and understood.”

Lydia nodded. “Good. I know exactly how vulnerable and angry you feel right now, Lyle, and how hard this is for you. I’ve felt the same way myself many times when attempting to rescue friends or loved ones from the Sarcophage. Do what I say and we’ll all make it out of this alive, understood?”

Lyle nodded silently before switching the comms off.

******

Admiral Ekatrina Savitskaya stood, legs spread and hands clasped behind her back, jaw set and eyes fixed straight ahead. Below the balcony she was standing upon loomed a massive holographic replica of the Radiolaria Galactica; every time she fired her positron cannons, the Admiral was lit from below by searing blue light; when she fired the gravitic coilguns, the light was bright white instead. A half-second after each shot, holographic windows bearing tactical assessments of impact and damage flashed into the Admiral's vision. She scanned each one in turn, eyes darting around frantically.

“You know…” a floating Laria said as she placed her holo-hand on the Admiral’s shoulder. “We could be monitoring the battle in virtual space instead and piping the data directly to your mind. Physically viewing information like this is tremendously inefficient. Why airgap when you can network?”

“Admiral’s prerogative,” Katya replied simply. “I believe we just hit MPO clearance threshold, am I correct?”

“Hm? Oh…” Laria fumbled for a moment as she realized Katya had discerned this a microsecond before she had, despite the sensors being a part of her own body. “Y-Yes. You are correct.”

Katya’s face split into a sardonic smile. “Time to let Genevi off her leash, then?”

“Oh dear,” Laria sighed with resignation. “I suppose so. I’ll inform her.”

******

TARGET DETECTED.

The lost Crucivore stopped in its tracks and focused its senses straight upwards. A hundred kilometers above, a shining bright target had appeared.

Then, another.

A third.

Dozens.

Hundreds.

Thousands.

TARGET DETECTED.

TARGET DETECTED.

TARGET DET-

TARGET DET-

TAR-

TAR-

TA-

TA-

T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T- T-

As the Crucivore’s neural cluster was filled with endless alveolar plosives, it struggled to understand what exactly it was sensing. It stretched its tentacles upwards, as if touching the mysterious swarm of targets might convey some greater understanding, yet no new data presented itself.

It stood there, motionless, in abject confusion.

******

The Radiolaria Galactica now seemed to be spewing a fine grey mist into space.

Upon closer examination, this mist was composed of thousands upon thousands of Strike Fins of varying configurations and functions; some were small as a human torso, whereas others were large as a car. Nanobots swarmed in the spaces between the Fins, propelled by a crackling purple grav-power field that encompassed the whole affair.

From afar, this phenomenon seemed some manner of sinister space miasma. From closer, it looked like a nightmare whirlwind of bristling grey weaponry arcing with purple lightning discharges.

This was humanity’s ultimate answer to the Sarcophage… a techno-swarm to fight the bio-swarm. And uniting the whole affair was a single consciousness, a mind split across countless instances. This gave the Gravity Swarm a depth of sentience and understanding the enemy simply couldn’t match.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FLEE BEFORE MY GLORIOUS MIGHT, PITIFUL BEINGS!” Genevi cackled madly as she extended pseudopods of her Gravity Swarm toward the enemy; each pseudopod emitted thousands of individually-targeted blasts of positron fire, thinning the oncoming horde before slamming into them headlong. The effect was not unlike a tornado filled with knives disemboweling a herd of cattle.

“NOW, MEET YOUR END WITH HORROR! THE STARS THEMSELVES WILL RUN RED WITH YOUR BLOOD!”

A beeping sound indicated an incoming gravcomm from Miette. “Tone it down, Yandere Queen,” the redheaded Captain firmly lectured. “You’re on broadband.”

“Pshaw. I would not expect a mere mortal to understand my glory,” Genevi retorted mischievously, before grinning and saluting. “Fine, I’ll stay off broadband. You can’t stop me from enjoying this, though.”

“I would never,” Miette responded. “That said, please be efficient. The sooner you clear UPO, the sooner I can send reinforcements to the surface.”

Genevi quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me to slaughter all the Sarcophage as quickly as possible?”

“Exactly.”

“With pleasure,” Genevi said excitedly before cutting the comm.

Moments later, the full bulk of the Gravity Swarm slammed into the enemy with reckless abandon, carving a path of chaotic technological slaughter.

******

“I’ve got something!” Sveta screeched as she popped back into existence quite suddenly, causing Lydia to start. “Broadband established! I’m opening a channel to Sveta Instance 22dinosaur@meteor117... NOW!”

The sound of static intermixed with weapons fire filled the air. Lydia cleared her throat and spoke loudly and clearly. “This is Senior Caption Lydia Tereshkova of Maid Corps 1st Squadron. Sveta, can you hear me?”

“You’re here?!” came a strained voice. “Hurry! Take this data file! It’s Hunter!”

“Hunter? Wh-”

“NO TIME! TAKE IT!”

Lydia glanced over to the local instance of Sveta, who nodded. “Downloading now. I can confirm the data contains a complete scan of one human mind… and an equal amount of junk data I can’t identify. The human mind seems to be undamaged.”

Lydia frowned. “Partition him for now. 22dino, we have safely received Hunter. What’s your situation?”

“A-66, GET BACK!” came the not-reply. “NO, MORE! PAST THE DOORWAY! I’M GOING TO COLLAPSE THE CAVE!”

“Sveta?” Lydia asked again.

“Lydia… hurry. There’s no ti-” Sveta begged desperately before the signal cut out.

“I can’t re-establish contact,” Sveta grimaced, shooting a despondent glance Kometka’s way. “We’re two minutes out.”

Lydia took a deep breath and gripped Kometka’s controls tightly. “Give me Lyle, please.”

“Done,” Kometka responded as she opened a comm window.

“Lyle,” Lydia began as the 2nd lieutenant looked at her curiously. “Sveta just sent us a data file containing Hunter’s consciousness. We’ve confirmed his integrity. He’s safe.”

“His consciousness? Why-?” Lyle began.

“We don’t know,” Lydia interrupted. “I would speculate Sveta scanned his mind and soul into her mainframe when his life was threatened. Either way, he can tell us more once we download him into a Telepresence Doll. Just know that he’s safe and intact, alright?”

Lyle took a deep breath and nodded. “Understood.”

Lydia leaned forwards. “Now is the time to make the ones who hurt him pay. Let’s tear apart this swarm with the utmost violence and save some crab lives, okay?”

Lyle smiled, albeit uncertainly. “Yeah.”

******

The battle wasn’t much of one.

With the groundside Sarcophage swarm focused squarely on trying to get Sveta and her crab companions, they didn’t see the three squadrons of Gravity Frames approaching from behind until it was far too late. By the time the creatures reacted, fully half of them had been cut to ribbons by an onslaught of positron fire.

As the turkey shoot continued, Lydia broke away from the main group and raced towards 22dino’s last known position, carving through rock and ice with her plasma blades. Breathless minutes passed until she finally broke through the collapsed cave entrance, only to be greeted by a scene of unmitigated carnage.

All the Sarcophage in the room were already dead… but so was everyone else. The bodies of two massive crabs lay splayed on the floor, filled with dozens of spines. At the far end of the room, Sveta’s Telepresence Doll had been bisected horizontally; her legs were nowhere to be found, and her torso trailed a series of sparking wires where they should have been. Huge gashes dug into her chassis, revealing wiring and pistons underneath.

The damaged Sveta looked at Lydia with her one functioning eye. She spoke, her voice raspy and mechanical.

“You’re… t-t-t-t-t-tooooo… lateeeeeeeeeee…” she buzzed before spasming and falling completely silent.

Lydia released Kometka’s controls and slumped back in her seat.

“Shit,” she muttered.

******

One-hundred and ninety-three kilometers to the north, the Crucivore collapsed.

It had wasted the last vestiges of its strength trying futilely to reach the Gravity Swarm in orbit. Now, devoid of all chemical energy, it simply switched off. The neural activity in its clusters began to fade away.

This was death, of a kind, but not the sort we’re familiar with. The Crucivore had no intelligence, no self-awareness, no capacity for emotion… no soul. There would be no confused Sarcophage appearing in Skellish’s domain asking what had happened. Instead, only oblivion greeted the poor thing.

Even so, as its last thoughts faded, there was a tinge of regret for something lost long ago. Despair and regret, which it had never experienced until now, filled its fading thoughts. And alongside them came an image… an array of infinite triangles folding inwards upon themselves in ways that hurt the eye to see. The Crucivore stared in wonderment as the darkness seized it for the final time.

As it faded, a single word filled its every thought… a word brought by those impossible triangles. A word that represented both the Sarcophage and their unseen masters.

Ruin.

******

A-66 awoke with a start and tried to gasp. However, nothing happened. They could no longer feel their body.

“What the-” they thought out loud.

Despite lacking eyestalks, they could still see. Surrounding them was nothing but a deep, pitch-black and utterly silent darkness… with one very stark exception. Directly before them was a massive, splendorous horned blue crab, which was far larger and more distinguished than any crab A-66 had ever seen before.

The horned crab almost seemed to have stepped out of the pages of a hatching’s story-bubble. They were old, as evidenced by the advanced growth of their shell, yet not a single scar marred their blue sheen. The bumps and knots that formed with age were all exquisitely carved into patterns of flowing curves and soft angles, making it seem as if they were cloaked in a pearlescent fractal veneer. From atop their carapace sprouted eight horns, four on each side, and they rose up to half the height of their eyestalks. Atop those stalks glowed two blazing red orbs which, despite lacking pupils or sclera, still seemed to be studying the new arrival intently.

“Who are you?” A-66 asked nervously.

The horned crab’s carapace lightened to a friendly shade of light blue, and they spread their strongclaws wide in welcome.

“Greetings, Astronomer-8966. My name is Skellish, Goddex of Entropy, and this is my dominion. Welcome to the afterlife.”