(From)
First Contact - Asgardians
Book Five
Chapter One
The hushed stillness of the Protector’s medical bay held a fragile peace, a stark contrast to the brutal chaos that had unfolded on LX-47. Admiral Robert Chris stood a silent vigil beside Princess Coralia’s bedside, the soft glow of the medical monitors casting long shadows across his weary face. Coralia lay still, nestled amongst the crisp white sheets, her breathing a shallow whisper against the rhythmic sounds of the life support systems. The vibrant energy that had briefly flared within her, a raw manifestation of the Source’s touch, had receded, leaving behind an unsettling tranquility. Yet, Robert felt a profound shift in the atmosphere. He could almost sense the transformation unfolding beneath the surface of her delicate frame.
Doctor Swann, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion but his eyes sharp with scientific intrigue, moved with a quiet reverence around the bedside. His fingers, usually so precise and decisive, now hovered delicately over the diagnostic scanners, each subtle fluctuation in Coralia’s bio-readings scrutinized with an unwavering focus. The immediate crisis wrought by Thorne’s nanite assault had been quelled, the microscopic invaders neutralized by the desperate application of cryo-stasis and the painstakingly calibrated counter-frequency. But the victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the profound mystery of Coralia’s altered state, a mystery that defied conventional medical understanding.
“The vital signs remain remarkably stable, Admiral,” John reported, his voice a whisper that barely disturbed the quiet sanctuary of the medical bay. “The residual effects of the nanite integration are minimal, almost undetectable. The counter-frequency appears to have done its work, at least on a physiological level. However…” He paused, his gaze drawn to the intricate tapestry of neural activity displayed on the holographic screens. “The energy fluctuations within her neural pathways persist. They have… evolved beyond the initial chaotic surges. There is now a discernible pattern, a subtle yet persistent resonance that is… alien to Flude biology.”
Robert’s mind drifted back to the enigmatic pronouncements of Seer Aram and Empress Xylara. Their words, once shrouded in the mystical language of the Source, now echoed with a chilling clarity. A conduit… a vessel for ascension… the awakening of a latent power… The disparate pieces of a cosmic puzzle were slowly coalescing, revealing a picture far grander and more terrifying than his pragmatic mind could fully comprehend. He felt a growing unease, a sense that they were treading on the precipice of something truly extraordinary, something that could shatter their understanding of the universe.
“Has she shown any sign of regaining consciousness, Doc?” Robert asked, his voice also barely a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate equilibrium surrounding the Princess.
John shook his head, his expression a complex blend of scientific intrigue and genuine human concern. “Not yet, Admiral. But her cerebral activity is… unprecedented. The complexity of the neural patterns we are recording far surpasses any baseline Flude or Human readings, even during periods of intense cognitive function. It is as if her mind is processing an unimaginable torrent of information, absorbing and integrating something… fundamentally alien.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a gesture of his intellectual struggle. “It’s as if she’s listening to a symphony that only she can hear.”
A soft chime, almost musical in its tone, emanated from the small viewscreen nearby. Robert looked over at it, seeing Ellie, her composed features now tinged with a subtle urgency. “Admiral, I have news,” she announced, her voice a precise cut through the quiet tension. “Admiral Grolak has achieved a definitive lock on the energy signature of Thorne’s escape vessel. Its current location is the Zeta Serpentis system, situated dangerously close to the volatile and largely uncharted territories bordering Asgardian-controlled space.”
A cold dread, sharp and visceral, pierced through Robert’s weariness. Thorne’s calculated trajectory towards the Asgardian frontier confirmed their gravest fears. He wasn’t seeking mere refuge in the obscurity of the outer rim; he appeared to be actively pursuing a treacherous alliance with the insectoid swarm that had inflicted such unimaginable suffering upon the Antillian people. The potential ramifications of such a union sent a shiver down Robert’s spine. The combined cunning of Thorne and the relentless, unified consciousness of the Asgardians could unleash a wave of unimaginable devastation upon the already fractured and fragile galactic peace.
“Ellie, prepare the Protector for immediate departure,” Robert commanded, his voice firm despite the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. “Issue a priority one directive to Admiral Grolak. He is to maintain pursuit of Thorne’s vessel, adhering strictly to stealth protocols to avoid any detection by Asgardian forces. His primary objective is to observe and meticulously report Thorne’s activities, his interactions with the Asgardians, and any discernible changes in their behavior. He is under strict orders to avoid direct engagement with Asgardian vessels unless absolutely necessary for the immediate preservation of his ship and its crew.”
“Acknowledged, Admiral,” Ellie replied.
Robert turned his gaze back to Princess Coralia, a profound weight of responsibility settling upon his shoulders. He had given his word to Empress Xylara, a promise to protect this young being, to guide her through the trials that lay ahead. But how could he possibly shield her from a destiny that seemed to transcend the very boundaries of mortal comprehension? How could he protect her from a power that was only beginning to stir within the depths of her being, a power whose nature and purpose remained shrouded in the mists of the unknown?
“Doc… John,” Robert said, his voice imbued with a renewed urgency, a desperate plea for understanding. “Maintain a constant vigilance over the Princess’s condition. Continue your exhaustive analysis of these evolving energy fluctuations. We must decipher their meaning, not only for Coralia’s sake but for the sake of the entire Alliance. We need to understand the language of this transformation.”
“Understood, Admiral,” John replied, his gaze unwavering as he monitored the subtle bio-signatures of the Princess. “I concur wholeheartedly. I have an undeniable intuition, a profound sense that we are standing on the precipice of a revelation that will forever alter our understanding of life, consciousness, and perhaps even the fundamental fabric of reality itself.”
He adjusted a sensor array, his movements precise despite his fatigue. “We are exploring unknown territory, Admiral, and the map is being drawn as we proceed.”
***
The Protector cleaved through the inky blackness of interstellar space, its powerful engines propelling them towards the ominous Zeta Serpentis system. The bridge was quiet, but tense, the crew a symphony of focused motion, each officer and technician executing their duties with a practiced precision born of countless crises. The Zeta Serpentis system, a region whispered about in hushed tones, shrouded in swirling nebulae and haunted by fragmented tales of brutal Asgardian incursions, loomed ahead on the main viewscreen, a silent testament to the ever-growing shadow of the insectoid threat.
“We are nearing the system’s outer perimeter, Admiral,” Lieutenant Johnson reported, her fingers a blur across the intricate controls of the navigation console. “Long-range sensors are detecting a significant Asgardian presence. Multiple hive ships are positioned in what appears to be a coordinated defensive posture around the primary planetary body. Their numbers far exceed standard patrol formations.”
“Their deployment suggests a level of anticipation, a preparedness that transcends mere territorial defense,” Governor Z’tharr observed, his large, muscular Graplian frame taut with a hint of unease. His dog-like features were drawn into a deep, thoughtful frown, his keen senses, honed by generations of Graplian hunters, undoubtedly picking up subtle energy signatures and environmental cues that remained imperceptible to human instruments. “They are expecting someone… or something of considerable importance.”
“Thorne’s arrival has clearly not gone unnoticed by the hive mind,” Robert said, his voice betraying the simmering tension beneath his outwardly calm demeanor. “He has offered them a prize, a strategic advantage so significant that it has compelled them to mobilize in a formidable force. The question is, what could possibly be valuable enough to warrant such a response from the Asgardians?”
“The recovered bio-weapon sample remains the most logical offering, Admiral,” Commander Allen speculated, his expression mirroring Robert’s deep concern. “The potential for biological warfare against the Alliance would be a powerful incentive for the Asgardians.”
“It is a plausible scenario, Commander,” Robert conceded, his gaze fixed on the swirling nebulae ahead. “But I cannot shake the feeling that there is a more profound element at play, something intrinsically linked to Princess Coralia’s transformation. Thorne’s obsession with her, his cryptic pronouncements about transcendence and unlocking hidden potential… it all suggests a deeper, more disturbing motive. It’s possible that he has taken the serum and is able to communicate with the hive mind in ways that we cannot.”
“Ellie, intensify your efforts to penetrate their communication network,” Robert commanded, his voice hardening with grim resolve. “We need to understand the true nature of this possible alliance, the precise terms of their treacherous agreement. We have a rudimentary understanding of how they communicate now. We may be able to eavesdrop and learn something. Hopefully, neither the Asgardians nor Thorne realizes we have learned some of their language.”
“I am dedicating all available processing power to the task, Admiral,” Ellie replied, her holographic form freezing briefly from time to time, as she shunted all of her computing powers at certain times. “However, their telepathic network remains stubbornly opaque, a chaotic storm of interconnected consciousness, a swirling vortex of instinct, directive, and alien sensory input that resists all conventional attempts at decryption. It is a language we do not yet possess the Rosetta Stone to decipher. We are forced to take the dark energy readings and put them through one of the probes to translate them into something we can understand. It sounds simple enough, but it is actually quite complicated.”
“Then I guess we proceed slowly and with extreme caution, because we need to be careful and the limits of our knowledge restrain us from moving any faster,” Robert reiterated, his hand resting instinctively on the command console. “Admiral Grolak is providing a detailed and continuous update on Thorne’s current position and any observed interactions with the Asgardian vessels. His eyes and ears are our only reliable source of information within that hostile territory. Hopefully, he’ll be able to discover something that helps you.”
***
Grolak’s image materialized on a secondary display, his massive Graplian form filling the frame, his usually stoic face etched with a grim determination. “Admiral,” he reported, his tone serious. “The Ironclad remains hidden and strategically positioned within the dense asteroid belt on the system’s periphery. I have maintained unbroken visual and sensor confirmation of Thorne’s heavily modified light cruiser docked within the primary docking bay of a significantly larger Asgardian hive ship. There is constant and unsettling activity with numerous small transport vessels moving back and forth between the two ships. There are significant energy transfers occurring at irregular intervals, and… increasingly complex and unusual biological signatures emanating from Thorne’s vessel.”
“Complex and unusual biological signatures?” Robert’s brow furrowed, a sense of foreboding tightening his chest. “Elaborate, Admiral.”
“They are… fluid, Admiral. A disturbing fusion of organic and technological components, evolving and adapting in real-time. They are unlike anything I have encountered in Alliance databases. They seem to be… integrating with the hive ship’s internal environment, almost… becoming a part of it.”
A chilling realization, cold and sharp as a shard of ice, pierced through Robert’s apprehension. Thorne wasn’t just offering the Asgardians a weapon for conquest; he might be offering them a means of terrifying integration, a way to bridge the fundamental gap between their purely organic hive mind and technological augmentation. He was offering them a horrifying, irreversible step towards his twisted vision of a unified, transcendent, and utterly alien future.
“Captain Rosales,” Robert said, his voice hardening with grim resolve. “The era of cautious observation has come to an end. Prepare an elite boarding party for immediate deployment. Our objective is now twofold and absolute: apprehend Thorne and secure the bio-weapon sample before he can unleash its horrors upon another world. We will infiltrate that hive ship.”
“Whisper and Shade teams are already at maximum readiness, Admiral,” Rosales replied, her eyes burning with a focused intensity that mirrored Robert’s steely determination. “We await your final command.”
“Proceed with extreme caution, Captain,” Robert stressed, his gaze fixed on the ominous silhouette of the distant hive ship. “We possess no reliable intelligence on the internal defenses of that alien vessel, the full extent of Thorne’s treacherous modifications to his ship, or the true nature and strength of the unholy alliance he has forged with the Asgardians. This is not merely a foray into hostile territory; it is a blind jump into the very heart of the serpent. May the Source guide our steps, and may we emerge from its embrace in victory.”
Within the sterile quiet of the Protector’s medical bay, Princess Coralia lay still in the adjustable medical bed, her breathing a shallow, almost imperceptible rhythm. The soft, reassuring hum of the life support systems enveloped her, a fragile sanctuary against the profound and unsettling changes that were rippling through her very being. The brief, radiant luminescence that had flared within her eyes, a fleeting glimpse into the raw power of the Source, had subsided, leaving behind an unnerving stillness, a silence that spoke volumes of a mind grappling with forces far beyond human comprehension.
Doctor Swann, his face a mask of intellectual exhaustion and dawning wonder, monitored her condition with an almost reverent intensity. The chaotic energy fluctuations that had initially threatened her life had now resolved into a complex, rhythmic pattern, a subtle, persistent symphony of biological and… something undeniably more.
“Doctor,” a young nurse whispered, her voice hushed with a mixture of awe and apprehension. “Look at this.”
She pointed to a newly emergent waveform displayed on one of the holographic monitors.
It was a distinct, low-frequency energy pulse, radiating outwards from Coralia’s neural pathways in a steady, rhythmic beat, like the silent thrumming of a cosmic heart.
“Is it… a signal,” the nurse breathed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “A transmission of some kind?”
Swann leaned closer, his scientific skepticism warring with an undeniable sense of the uncanny. Could this be a form of communication? But with whom? Flude physiology, as far as Alliance science understood it, possessed no inherent telepathic capabilities. Thorne’s insidious serum had clearly wrought changes far more profound than mere biological alteration, unlocking something ancient and powerful within her genetic code.
Just then, the medical bay’s comm system chimed, Ellie’s precise voice echoing with an unusual urgency. “Doctor Swann, Admiral Chris requests your immediate presence on the bridge. He believes there has been a significant development pertaining to the Princess’s current condition.”
Swann exchanged a bewildered glance with the nurse, his mind racing with possibilities both exhilarating and terrifying. A knot of profound anticipation tightened in his chest as he hurried out of the medical bay.
The doctor rushed through the corridors, bouncing off walls as he tried to dodge his crewmates and hurrying to the bridge, wondering if what the nurse had noticed was connected to the Admiral’s summons to the bridge.
As he stepped onto the bridge, the atmosphere was charged with tension, a silent anticipation of the unknown. Admiral Chris stood before the main viewscreen, his gaze fixed on the distant, menacing cluster of Asgardian hive ships, their organic hulls pulsing with an unsettling alien vitality.
“Doctor,” Robert began somberly, cutting through the hushed anticipation on the bridge. “Ellie has detected a faint energy resonance emanating from the Princess. It’s a low-frequency pulse, almost… telepathic in nature. And its trajectory… it appears to be directed with increasing focus towards the Asgardian hive ships.”
The doctor’s eyes widened, his scientific framework struggling to accommodate the impossible data displayed before him. “Telepathic? But… that defies all known principles.”
“Perhaps Thorne’s serum didn’t merely rewrite her biology,” Governor Z’tharr rumbled uneasily, his ancient Graplian wisdom sensing currents beyond human comprehension.
“It’s possible that the serum has awakened a latent sensitivity, a connection to energies that lie far beyond the scope of our current scientific understanding.”
“But why the Asgardians?” Commander Allen asked, his voice filled with a growing sense of dread. The implications of such a connection sent a chill through the bridge crew. Why would she be reaching out to them, to the very species that embodies the antithesis of everything the Alliance stands for?”
As if in answer to his unspoken question, Ellie’s holographic form froze, her composed features now displaying a visible strain, a digital manifestation of the immense processing power she was dedicating to the unfolding mystery. When she unfroze after a few moments, she reported, “Admiral… I… I’m starting to receive something from the Asgardian network. It’s still a chaotic torrent of alien sensory input, but… coherent patterns are beginning to coalesce. And… they appear to be… responding to the Princess’s energy pulse.”
“Responding how, Ellie?” Robert demanded, his voice sharp with a desperate urgency. “What kind of response are we seeing?”
“It’s… difficult to quantify, Admiral,” Ellie replied, her voice trembling slightly as she struggled to interpret the alien data. “It’s a sense of… heightened awareness within the collective. A flicker of… curiosity, almost childlike in its nascent form.
Confusion, yes, a profound disorientation within the normally unified consciousness. But also… a nascent form of… recognition. As if a long-forgotten chord has been struck, resonating within the depths of their alien minds.”
Robert stared at the distant, menacing silhouettes of the Asgardian hive ships, a chilling, terrifying realization dawning in the pit of his stomach. Thorne hadn’t merely sought a strategic alliance with the Asgardians. He may have offered them a key, a treacherous bridge to something they had never possessed, a connection to the very fabric of existence, to the Source itself, mediated through the altered consciousness of Princess Coralia. And the Asgardians, with their insatiable hunger for consumption, their alien understanding of interconnectedness, and their vast, unified consciousness, were reaching back across the void. The symphony of awakening had begun, its first, tentative notes echoing across the cold vacuum of space, and the galaxy held its breath, utterly unaware of the terrifying, discordant crescendo that was yet to come.
Thank you for reading this short excerpt from my book!
Scott Ickes