(From)
First Contact - Hyperians
Book Six
Chapter One
The vast Alliance fleet drifted like wounded leviathans in the black. Thousands of ships, from sleek scout vessels to massive Galaxy Class Warships, bore silent witness to the strange calm that had settled after the chaos. But the stillness was brittle, hanging thick with tension.
View screens flickered weakly across the bridge of the flagship Protector. Static and warped images replaced usual sensor feeds. The starfield itself seemed warped, as if reality had been stretched and bent into unfamiliar shapes. Gravity rippled, like unseen waves pressing against the ship’s hull.
Admiral Robert Chris stood rigid, staring out into the void. His eyes tracked the flickering outlines of vessels, some of which were twisted, others folded in on themselves like origami undone. Hulls that had, moments ago, been reported as destroyed appeared suddenly intact, yet eerily silent. The entire fleet seemed caught between two worlds: the nightmare of destruction they had lived through, and the startling truth emerging that none of it was real.
The Hyperians had not only made everyone in the fleet relive the Asgardian attack in their mind’s eye, but they had also made them imagine a similar attack on their fleet here at Antillia.
Robert’s gaze swept the bridge, locking briefly on each of his senior officers. Commander Bryon Allen sat quietly, jaw clenched, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the armrest. Lieutenant Tran Lee’s face was pale, eyes darting between sensor readouts as she fought to make sense of conflicting data.
Robert’s throat tightened as he realized that all of them had to bear this burden… this invisible wound. The Hyperians had not just attacked ships or bodies. They had invaded minds, and now the invisible scars were spreading through his command like poison.
“Status reports,” he finally said, voice low but steady.
Bryon looked up, and his eyes were sharp despite the exhaustion. “Sensors are operational, Sir, but the readings remain erratic. We’re seeing hulls that should be compromised, based on earlier reports, and yet they are fully intact.”
“The physical destruction we witnessed was an illusion,” Robert murmured. “They wanted us to believe we were broken. We aren’t broken or defeated. At least, not yet.”
He turned back to the viewport. The stars outside were sharp and clear now, but inside the fleet, doubt lingered like a ghost. The real battle begins in the mind. This was a new kind of foe… a new type of enemy. How do you fight something or someone that you don’t understand?
***
Commander Brynn Valek gripped the arms of her chair as alarms screamed. The Dauntless had been locked in a seemingly endless battle of light and shadow, her crew battered by a torrent of images. All around her were flashes of exploding planets, cities folding into gravity wells, the screams of billions.
Now, the bridge was eerily quiet. The emergency lights bathed everything in cold red. Her Captain, Matt O’Malley, lay in medical, comatose. His mind was lost in a nightmare that she had also witnessed.
Somehow, she was able to keep her wits about her. She prayed her Captain would recover. The doctor wasn’t able to tell her one way or the other. Outside, the stars looked sharp and untouched. She blinked, her mind struggling to reconcile what her senses were telling her.
“Sensors are back online,” the science officer announced hesitantly. “No structural breaches detected. No hull integrity loss. No crew casualties... despite the visuals.”
“Don’t you consider the captain a casualty?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. That was a poor choice of words. There are many injuries, and nine people who are mentally incapacitated. What I meant to say is that we had no deaths from the… whatever that was.”
Brynn shook her head. “All of it felt so real. The fear. The pain. The loss.”
She glanced around at her crew, faces pale, eyes wide. Some stared blankly ahead, while others clutched the edges of consoles as if holding onto sanity itself.
Back on the Protector, Robert received a short comm from Brynn. Her voice was strained but firm.
“Admiral, the Dauntless survived. No one is dead, and no serious damage to the ship. But the crew… they’re rattled. It’s not just physical recovery… It’s like we’re fighting shadows.”
Robert closed his eyes for a moment, the mental fatigue pressing in like gravity.
“I’m curious, Commander. Why are you reporting this, instead of Captain O’Malley?”
“Captain O’Malley is in medical, Sir. He’s comatose. The doctor isn’t sure what to do. He has no physical injuries. I actually have eight other crew members in the same condition as the captain.”
Robert thought about that for a few moments before replying, “This attack was designed to break us from within. Not just our ships, or our bodies, but our resolve.”
“How do we combat something that can alter our perception of reality, Sir?”
He straightened. “We will not give them that victory. Organize counseling and debriefs on your end. We fight the mind now, Brynn… and that means we fight together.”
Ellie’s holographic form appeared quietly at his side. “There’s growing confusion in the fleet, Sir. We need a rally point. Something real for the crews to hold onto.”
Robert turned to her, his jaw tight. “Then we give them what actually happened. No spin. No guesswork. Just the truth.”
“How do we do that. We all saw something different.”
Robert smiled and said, “We fight this with our minds. Lieutenant Hickory!”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Send the following out to every ship in the fleet. I want every crew member to make a report of what they felt and saw during the attack. They are then to make another report detailing what was real and what wasn’t real, based on what they see and feel now.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Ellie was confused and asked, “What will that accomplish, Sir? You’re making them all relive the nightmare over again in their minds. Isn’t that risky?”
“I don’t believe so. It wasn’t real. They know that it didn’t happen, but it’s lingering in many of their minds. By going through the exercise, especially the second part, where they report the reality, they will realize that it was just a bad dream and not the nightmare that it seemed to be. We can’t let these Hyperians frighten us into inaction.”
***
Doctor John Swann’s hands trembled as he moved among injured crew members, many unconscious or trembling with shock. Strange psychosomatic wounds, nerve pain with no physical cause, plagued many of them.
He had treated dozens who insisted they had lost limbs, only to find every appendage intact. Others described horrific burns or crushing injuries that vanished under examination. John would watch as a crew member’s arm or leg would miraculously reappear right before his eyes.
John’s voice was calm but firm. “You’re safe. You’re alive. This was an attack of the mind.”
One sailor, wide-eyed and shaking, whispered, “But I saw my ship blow apart. I heard the screams. I felt the heat.”
John knelt beside him, voice soft. “It wasn’t real. The Hyperians didn’t kill us. They tried to break us.”
“But it was real, Doc.”
“Listen to me. Do you have any burns on your hands or arms?”
“I did. How did you heal my burns so quickly?”
“You were never burned, ensign. It was an illusion.”
“It seemed so real, though.”
“I know. I’ve watched people come in here missing arms and legs, and when I turn away to get an instrument to stop their bleeding and turn back to them, their injuries no longer exist. It’s affecting my mind, too.”
“How do we know that I’m not injured. The healing could be the illusion, Doc.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. They are trying to frighten us, and you’re letting them win. Fight them with your mind, ensign. Keep reminding yourself that the injuries and the destruction weren’t real. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try…”
“That’s good. It’s a start. I’d like you to go over there and sit with the others and tell them what they remember happening wasn’t real. Be the rock they need, ensign.”
“I can do that, Doc. I need to do something.”
“Excellent. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
As the ensign walked away, Doctor Swann thought to himself, “How do I tell the real injuries from the illusions? This is a nightmare.”
***
Later, in the officers’ mess, Robert sat across from John Swann. The doctor’s usually steady hands nervously drummed the table.
“We’re seeing trauma unlike any combat wounds,” John said quietly. “It’s psychological. This illusion has left scars that no med kit can fix.”
Robert nodded slowly. “The mind is as much a battlefield as space itself. We need to prepare our crews for that.”
John sighed, rubbing his temples. “And yet, how do you fight an enemy that invades your thoughts? I’m not sure we’re ready. I know I’m not.”
Robert’s voice was steady but fierce. “We will be. Because we have to be.”
“I saw your order to report what they experienced during the battle and what they feel and see now. That will help many of them, but not all. Some of my patients still insist the healing is the illusion, and that they still have the injuries that they experienced.”
“I also understand that we have quite a few crew members in comas. What are we going to do about those?”
“For right now, I’m keeping them in comas, until I get the waking ones sorted out. I’m swamped, Robert. This is the first break I’ve taken in over thirty hours.”
“Are you still seeing illusions, Doc?”
“No, thankfully. According to Ellie, over ninety-five percent of the people I treated for physical injuries were never injured in the attack. I actually broke one man’s leg attempting to set it. His leg wasn’t broken at all. It was all an illusion. It was in my mind.”
Robert shook his head and lamented, “I’m not sure how we fight something like this.”
“It’s definitely a sticky wicket, isn’t it?”
“Yup. If you come up with any ideas, I’m all ears.”
“You have my word. If I think of something to fight this, I’ll definitely let you know.”
***
Captain Grolak stood on the bridge of his flagship, the Sheldra. His massive claws rested on the railing as he surveyed the battle-scarred hull of his ship. Deep gouges and twisted plating told a different story than the sensor readouts.
“Damage report!” barked his first officer.
“Minimal physical damage, Sir. But the crew’s mental state is... fragile. We’re getting reports of hallucinations, anxiety, and terror.”
Grolak growled low in his throat. “The Hyperians’ weapon is not destruction of the physical, but is instead, fear itself. They seek to destroy the mind, for the ship is helpless without minds to control it.”
He looked to the nearest viewport. Beyond, the stars shimmered normally, untouched by the chaos he had seen and lived in his mind’s eye.
Governor Z’tharr stood beside Grolak, the massive Graplian’s face etched with concern. He had returned to the Sheldra with Grolak after the battle had ended. They had both been on the Protector at the time of the attack.
“Our people are strong, but this… this is unlike any foe,” Z’tharr said, his voice a low rumble.
Grolak nodded. “They think if they break our minds, the war is theirs. But fear can be fought.”
Z’tharr’s eyes narrowed. “We will need to forge that strength. Together.”
Grolak smiled and asked, “Are you offering to be my second?”
“If you’ll have me, my friend.”
“Do you think the Admiral will want to release you from your duties on the Protector?”
Z’tharr grinned and said, “I have already brought it up, and he thinks I should command a ship again. However, I feel I can be best utilized here, by your side.”
“I agree. I’d be honored to have you as my second. Welcome back to the Graplian portion of the fleet, Governor.”
“Thank you. I’ll get you trained, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Grolak laughed and said, “Come now, Governor. No sense in being mean to your new superior officer.”
Z’tharr pounded his massive hand on his friend’s back and replied, “Aye, Sir. I’ll be mindful of who is in command here.”
***
Robert stood with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the darkened viewport as distant stars shimmered quietly beyond. The echoes of the Hyperian psychic assault still haunted his thoughts. Behind him, the door hissed open.
Princess Coralia stepped in, her movement hesitant but purposeful. Her skin shimmered faintly with residual energy, and her eyes… they weren’t tired, but instead Robert could see she was disturbed, or maybe focused elsewhere, as if listening to something no one else could hear.
“Princess,” Robert said without turning. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m not injured,” she answered softly, “but I’m not well, either.” Her voice carried a tremor, it wasn’t of fear but instead one of urgency.
Robert turned to face her fully. “Doctor Swann said your vitals stabilized after the attack. We were worried it would trigger another reaction due to your connection to the Source and ability to be connected to another’s mind.”
“It didn’t,” she said, stepping closer. “This… this is something else.”
He watched her carefully, noting how she kept glancing toward empty space, as though expecting someone or something to appear.
“I hear him,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Robert frowned. “Hear who?”
“Sustainer.”
Robert was concerned because the only way she could hear Sustainer was by use of the Source.
“He’s using the Source,” she continued, confirming his suspicion. “His presence is inside me again. I know how that sounds, Robert, but it’s not invasive. Not like before. He’s reaching out… calling to me.”
Robert exhaled slowly. “Coralia, after what we just went through, everyone’s questioning what’s real. We were also warned to cease using the Source. Sustainer’s endangering all of us, by communicating with you through the Source.”
“Actually, I can feel him calming my concerns. He isn’t saying it, but I know that the Hyperians can’t sense his use of the Source. I also know that I can’t answer Sustainer, because the Hyperians will be able to sense me using it.”
“How sure are you of this?”
“I’d stake my life on it, Sir.”
“You might be staking all of our lives on it, Princess.”
“I’m aware. I know that as long as I don’t reply through the Source, it is safe.”
“Very well. Just keep in mind that we don’t know how to combat the Hyperians yet.”
She nodded and then said, “Sustainer has also made me aware that these psychic intrusions are more than just illusions; they were precision strikes against our minds.”
Robert thought about that momentarily, then asked, “Are you sure this isn’t a leftover echo of the Hyperian attack?”
Coralia shook her head, voice low but resolute. “This wasn’t just an illusion, Admiral. Sustainer is revealing to my mind that it was a deliberate assault, and that it was targeted and precise for a reason. They weren’t just showing us fear or trying to frighten us… they were shaping our thoughts, undermining our sense of self. And he can’t explain the rest through the Source. I feel that the Hyperians can’t sense his presence, and he can’t risk them discovering him yet. That’s why he needs me back. He’s trying to protect me… protect all of us.”
Robert’s brow furrowed. “Why now, though?”
“I don’t know, but the urgency in his thoughts is clear. He says I’m not safe here. The Hyperians are still watching, and the illusion was only the first wave. He believes they’ll come for me directly next time.”
Robert’s jaw clenched. “And he wants you to hide inside his body again?”
“He says it’s the only place where the Source can be used to shield my mind entirely. He can protect me… teach me. I can hear the tapestry, Robert. It’s frayed and wounded. I’m not experienced enough to hide my connection to the Source.”
“That’s convenient timing,” Robert said, not unkindly. “You’ve just survived a galactic-scale psychic assault, and now the sentient moon wants you back inside him.”
She bristled. “Don’t make light of this. You’ve felt the Source. You know it’s real. Sustainer’s presence was the only thing that kept me from falling apart during the attack. He was there… whispering through the noise, guiding me out of the illusion.”
Robert stepped closer, lowering his voice. “What if this is how the Hyperians get to you, Coralia? What if they’re using Sustainer’s voice to lure you out? What if this isn’t Sustainer calling you? What if it’s the Hyperians?”
She paused. Her expression shifted… conflicted, torn between logic and instinct.
“I’ve thought of that,” she admitted. “But I know the difference. Sustainer’s presence is familiar… like a frequency only I can hear. The Hyperians? They were chaos in my mind. This is clarity. Robert, I have to go to him.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then finally nodded. “You’re not going alone. We’re going with you.”
Robert paced a few slow steps, then stopped and looked back at her. “If Sustainer can shield you from the Hyperians… do you think he could do the same for the rest of us?”
Coralia tilted her head, unsure. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, my senior staff. My ship captains and commanders. Our strategists. Everyone we rely on to plan our next moves,” Robert said. “If the Hyperians can reach into our minds, even just brush against our thoughts, then we can’t trust any plan we make out here. Every strategy, every defense, every countermeasure… It’s all compromised the moment we think it.”
She took a breath, absorbing the weight of his concern.
“I need a place where they can’t reach us,” he continued, stepping closer. “A place to think. To prepare. If Sustainer can shield you inside himself, maybe he can shield all of us. Not just from attack, but from being observed.”
Coralia considered it, her expression distant. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said anything about that.”
“Could you ask him?” Robert asked. “Not through the Source, though. I know the risk in that. But when you’re with him again. If we’re going to survive this… we need somewhere safe to plan. Somewhere, the Hyperians can’t listen in.”
She nodded slowly. “I’ll ask. If there’s a way… I’ll make sure he understands how important it is.”
Robert’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Because right now, Coralia… this war isn’t just about weapons or fleets. It’s about thought. And we’re already losing that battle.”
Thank you for reading this short excerpt from my book!
Scott Ickes