Battleship

flicked the light on and shined it directly into the alien’s eyes.

Saline systems have been interrupted, but the damage is minimal. Fluids are rerouted; life support systems functioning at acceptable levels.

The Regent’s regeneration cycle is complete. Internal damage repaired. External damage repaired. Retrieval signal has been sent. Retrieval is imminent.

His eyes, fully healed, focus on a light source. The system’s star? No. Far more concentrated. A portable light device of some manner.

His eyes snap open and he sees a human staring down into his face. There are other humans nearby.

He does not perceive any of them as being the humans who attacked him in a tiny vessel. He does not recognize the female as the one who incommoded him by shooting at him and disrupting his armor. All humans look alike to him. They are not worthy of individual attention.

All he knows is that the human with the light source is within unacceptably close proximity, and the light is painfully bright.

The alien’s eyes snapped open and, before Hopper could react, it lunged at him.

Ord leaped back, warnings of remaining silent forgotten. “Not dead! Not dead!” he screamed.

The alien’s hands clamped around Hopper’s throat.

Hopper gurgled helplessly as he felt long nails digging into his neck. It’s going to rip the skin clean off me…

He was face to face with the monster, its burning eyes glaring at him, as Nagata and Beast came in from either side and tried to pull it off him.

It reacted to the light. It nearly freaked out at the light. Hopper immediately shoved the Maglite into the alien’s eyes. If the flashlight had been a Taser, it couldn’t have elicited any more of a response, as the alien jumped back violently, releasing Hopper as it did so.

The human is resourceful. It is adept at utilizing objects at hand in an offensive capacity. This notation had been added to the mission log.

Retrieval is imminent.

Retrieval is now.

Before Hopper could react—before he could do anything—there was a deafening explosion, similar to a flashbang grenade, but louder and brighter and with far greater concussive force. All Hopper knew for sure was that one moment he was still on his feet, pulling away from the alien, and the next he was hurtling through the air and coming down hard on his back.

The world around him was one huge riot of noise and strobing lights. From his vantage point on the floor, Hopper tried to shield his eyes and make out what the hell had happened.

The blood practically froze in his veins as he saw more of the aliens pouring in. He had quick glimpses of his crew on the floor, being either stepped over or kicked aside by the invaders. Hopper began to struggle to his feet but he never came close to standing fully upright, as a thick fist slammed down on the back of his neck, sending him sprawling to the floor once more. This is it. They’re going to kill us all. They’re taking the ship. They’re taking…

…their man?

The aliens had grabbed their fellow, who’d been upright on the table. It was staggering but capable of locomotion, and hung on the shoulders of one of its rescuers as they headed out of the helicopter bay. Hopper worked on getting to his feet and this time he made it, lurching after them. He had no idea what he would do if he overtook them; he wasn’t wearing a sidearm—a mistake he’d be sure to rectify in the future, should there be a future—and he was also considerably outnumbered. But the bastards had overrun his ship and he’d make sure there would be hell to pay for it.

As it turned out, his pursuit quickly became a moot point. He made it up to the chopper deck, only to stagger as he saw what appeared to be some sort of alien flying vessel rising into the air. It’s not a stinger? They have other vehicles? What else do they have at their disposal that they haven’t shown us yet?

Hopper stood there, bathed in the white light that the alien vessel was generating from beneath. Someone was suddenly at his side and he jumped slightly into a defensive posture before he realized it was Nagata. He saw his own exhaustion, confusion, and overall dazed demeanor mirrored in Nagata’s face. Who knew that we’d finally have something in common: total bewilderment.

Together they watched helplessly as the alien ship angled away, the engines insanely quiet for something that big.

“I got a really bad feeling,” said Hopper.

Nagata looked at him curiously. “What kind of feeling?”

“A ‘We’re gonna need a new planet’ kinda feeling.”

Nagata didn’t laugh, or even smile. Which was fine, because as far as Hopper was concerned, it wasn’t a joke.

The noiselessness of the huge vessel helped Hopper understand why the aliens had managed to get the drop on them. With the radar out and the ship’s instruments unable to detect the presence of alien vehicles anyway, the thing had probably dropped in from the sky so quickly, so quietly, that no one had time to react to it. Or perhaps it had even snuck up on them underwater and then leaped from beneath to land on the chopper deck.

“No man left behind,” said Hopper softly. When Nagata stared at him, not understanding, he continued. “Maybe they’re not so alien after all. That’s got to be their version of ‘leave no man behind.’ You get one alive… they come for it.”

Nagata nodded. “It makes sense,” he said.

Wow. He’s agreed with me on something. What’re the odds?

Suddenly Raikes came charging out of the bay from behind them, urgency on her face. Hopper put up his hands and said, “Slow down, Raikes. They’re gone.”

As if Hopper hadn’t spoken, she said, “We just got a report. Medical casualty C-52. Two men down.”

“In C-52? That’s—”

“Engineering,” said Raikes.

The full implications of that news struck home. “They’re still on board,” Hopper whispered. Then, speaking with authority, he said, “Lock down the ship. And tell Beast he’s not to go anywhere near—”

Raikes’s expression immediately informed him what the next words out of her mouth were going to be. “He already made a beeline down there. It’s his house, Captain,” she added, as if apologizing for Beast’s precipitous actions.

“Goddammit!” said Hopper, snarling. He was already moving, and seconds later was joined by a small craft action team—SCAT—weapons at the ready. “We have a hostile on board! Lock and load, people!”

* * *

As Beast sprinted toward the engine room, he heard a hollow, repeated booming sound in the distance, echoing through the corridors. He made it into the main engine control center just in time to see several of his people backing up, their eyes wide with terror, their gazes fixed upon a sealed hatch down at the bottom of a flight of stairs that led to a companionway. The hatch, or rather what was on the other side of it, was the source of the noise. Something was pounding on the hatch cover. A human fist wouldn’t have even been heard. This thing was making a noise like a sledgehammer.

But even a human armed with a sledgehammer wouldn’t have made any progress on actually getting through the hatch. The cover was designed to hold back thousands of pounds of water, should the ship’s hull be breached, giving the sailors time to reach higher ground and safety.

Now, instead, the hatch cover was showing signs of wear and tear. It was visibly dented, and its bolts had begun to bend, to buckle. As if sensing impending success, the pounding intensified.