A bit of a breather chapter. Don't worry. More is coming!

Checking

Checking

Checking

/

Incoming transmission

WARMIND ALPHA

Transmitting Status reports to /SELF/

Battlecruiser operational

REPORT:

- Secondary Manufacturing Plant compromised NORTHERN HEMISPHERE

- Secondary Communication Hub Compromised NORTHERN HEMISPHERE

- HUMAN MILITARY ASSETS DESIGNATED: British Army - 75% attrition

- Mobilising assets from Primary Manufacturing Plant to accomplish 87% attrition

STRIKE MISSION initiated - complement of assets at 82%. Successful deployment: HUMAN MILITARY ASSETS DESIGNATED: British Army - 100% attrition

REPORT ENDS

/SELF/

Continue - Operations

Access of Gateway - Complete

Reinforcements - Decanted

Secure - Primary landmass

Secure - Secondary landmass

/SEND/

WARMIND Alpha

- Acknowledge Receipt -

/SELF/

EXPLAIN - LOSS - FIELD PROTOTYPE

/SEND/

WARMIND Alpha

- Acknowledge Receipt -

Asset presented flaw: self determined

Asset deployed autonomously

Asset deployed 24.3 [minutes] early

Asset engaged with only 38% chance of engagement success

CONCLUSION:

Asset autonomy compounded initial failure

ADDENDUM

Asset successfully compromised main OPPOSITION FORCE command structure, diminishing effective response

CONCLUSION (AMENDED)

Asset increased success of strike probability to 96.35%

/SELF/

- Acknowledge receipt -

Results forwarded to CREATOR_RESEARCH_LEAD

Amendment added to folder PROJECT_AVATAR

CONTINUE

/SEND/

WARMIND Alpha

- Acknowledge Receipt -

Attack

Attack

Attack

The machine was strange. Uncomfortable. Wrong.

Alien.

And yet at the same time, it was depressingly mundane.

The interior was like the inside of an Ironclad, or a ferry - grey walls and narrow corridors around the circumference, a ring that ran between the four strange doors that led into the craft. Admittedly the grey came from the strange, burnished metal that also seemed to reflect and drink in the light. The surface shimmered like a rainbow from certain angles.

It was also functional, with protuberances and pipes meant to carry infernal alien wiring or liquids or whatever they used to propel the vehicle.

Zhaojie and a few of the troops stood in the centre of the craft itself. The thing was devoid of anything approximating obvious creature comforts; no crew cabins, no real indicator of fore, aft or any devices. Two rooms with strange green pillars, then a room to the fore that seemed like a bridge, which they were now stood in front of. They had the captive trooper with them, the creature's hands bound. It looked terrified, babbling as it spoke. The problem was it wasn't speaking English.

"How. Do. We. Move. It?" growled one of the engineers. He was a demolitions man, but also had experience with mechanical contrivances; EXALT tended to push for troops to have multiple skills. The soldier shook its head and babbled, the inhumanly large eyes wide with fear. Zhaojie sighed and dragged a hand over his face. They'd been at this for a couple of hours, walking the thing around the ship, trying different responses. It understood English, that much was clear, but it seemed to struggle speaking it.

He shouldered forwards and loomed above the creature, which cringed backwards, then leaned forwards to peer at it, "I think, private, we may be asking the wrong questions."

The enemy soldier stared at him, then cocked its head side to side, as if trying to turn away from him. Was he that intimidating?

The Engineer sighed and leaned against one of the strange grey panels that were laid out throughout and shrugged, "Crack on boss, think the thing's slow. Maybe they just go for things that can shoot straight but ain't so good thinkin', y'know?"

Zhaojie shrugged and continued to look at the strange thing as it twisted its head. Once it made a double twist and leaned forwards as if presenting itself. The thing was bald as a newborn, head wrinkled and strange, the back of the head a little more connical than a normal human it had a scar at the base of its skull.

He frowned and cocked his head. The alien froze, head turn almost painfully away. Zhaojie drew a blade from his belt and the thing froze. It closed its eyes and seemed to relax, head bowing slightly. Zhaojie leaned forward and sliced the bonds at its wrists. The things eyes flickered open and several of the soldiers raised their rifles. The thing looked at Zhaojie, then reached one hand up, tentatively and tapped the scar at the back of its head. Then it mimed a sort of explosion from its mouth.

"You cannot answer our questions?" it nodded, "Because of the headwound?" another nod, "Why?"

Ok, that was perhaps a more complex question. But surprisingly, the thing tried to answer. It made a motion, both hands miming a large crown, or helmet, then held a hand up to one ear theatrically. Zhaojie nodded slowly, "Your leaders will… hear?"

The creature nodded vigorously. It mimicked the listening motion again then tapped its head. One of the troops snorted, "It hears their mind?"

The alien pointed at him and nodded. Zhaojie frowned again, "But can they hear you now?" the alien shrugged, then tapped its head, pointed at itself and mimed a throat slitting motion. Clearly these things were human enough to get body language. Or gestures. Had they been people before? That raised some concerning thoughts.

"They think you dead? Or do not care?" that got another shrug, "Will you help us?" the soldier tapped the back of its head then made a palm-down gesture and wobbled its hand, "Can they control you?"

That got a fearful look and a sort of shrug. Then the crown or helmet gesture and another pointing at itself, followed by the thing holding a pair of fingers up in a pinching motion. One soldier frowned, "I think it means… if its close?"

The creature nodded vigorously, then pointed at the tower outside the craft, just visible through the crafts strange bubble-like doors. It slammed a hand into a fist then pointed at itself and made a thumbs up gesture. That actually got a chuckle. Zhaojie managed a faint smile, "So the tower has something to do with control? Command?" another nod. He sighed, "We need you speaking English. Cantonese will take too long. Can barely get the gweilo to speak it."

The alien rolled its eyes and tapped the thing on the back of its head again and shrugged. Zhaojie frowned, "That stops you speaking?" the alien cocked its head and shrugged faintly, then opened its mouth.

"Speak. Some. Bad." The words sounded forced, almost painful, "When leader. Speak. Not. Leader."

So, maybe only the commanders could talk? Or they could only speak under certain situations? What the hell did these monsters do? Were all their soldiers like this? He turned away from the alien as boots clattered against the decking and Hackett limped into view.

"Boys are all set. When can we get Jimmy there to fly us out of here?"

Zhaojie was about to speak but he noticed the alien cringing away from Hackett. Its eyes were goggled and it stumbled back, lowering its head in deference. The Lieutenant looked at his Sergeant and cocked an eyebrow. The man shrugged. "You seem to have spooked our guest Sergeant."

"No bloody clue why. Unless he's heard of my prowess and the fact that the British Army is second to none. I am known to inspire terror…" chuckled the man. He looked about and frowned,

"God this place is weird."

"Dull, yes. So much grey."

"Yeah all that weird writing is confusing."

Zhaojie frowned, "What writing?"

Hackett snorted, "You're standing next to a bloody glowing board, Zhang. No time for games."

Zhaojie looked at the grey wall next to him, then looked back at Hackett. He frowned and beckoned, "Follow me Sergeant."

The older man sighed and shrugged, "So that's a no on the flying? Can he even do it or are we yomping it back to find a sodding canoe?"

They entered the bridge, Zhaojie almost dragging the alien behind him. Hackett stepped onto the bridge and whistled. Zhaojie gestured, "As you can see, there is not even a wheel. Or levers."

"Lots of sodding blinky lights though. Bloody headache standing here," Silence fell and Zhaojie stared at the man. Hackett looked at him sideways, "You're giving me the look my mum used to when I told her I hadn't nicked da's tobacco."

"The desks are blank, Sergeant."

"No… no they're lit up like a sodding market at Christmas. Big sodding purple things floating above 'em too."

Zhaojie looked at Hackett then at the soldier, who was staring at Hackett in confusion now, "Why can he see lights?"

The soldier looked at Hackett then at Zhaojie, then pointed at Hackett and mimed the crown gesture again, "The hell does that mean?" muttered the Sergeant.

The lieutenant shook his head, "I think it means he thinks you're the boss."

"Well we all knew that, didn't we. Can't be trusting officers," he grinned and then saw Zhaojie still staring at the soldier, "Sir, I'm getting a bit weirded out here. You're saying I'm seeing lights, he thinks I'm your boss? Pretty sure no one shot me in the head."

Zhaojie looked at the soldier, then at the supposedly blank consoles, "You can fly this vessel?" The soldier shook its head, "Can this vessel be flown?" a nod, "Do you know how? By the means of control, or command?"

The alien paused then nodded slowly. Hackett interrupted, "Can we fly it?" The creature looked at him and then waggled its hand, palm down again. Hackett rolled his eyes, "So, we know it can be flown, he can't fly it. But he knows how to."

Zhaojie took a breath, "Why can you not fly it?" he asked. The alien cocked its head, thinking. It held up a single finger, then pointed at itself, made the leader mime and then shook its head. It held a hand to its ear and tapped its head, then shook its head again. Zhaojie nodded, "So, not a thought listener, not a leader… but…"

The alien held up a hand, then made a gesture with two fingers. Then it held a hand lower to the floor, mimed a motion similar to the crown one, but more around its head. It made some monkey-like movements and then pointed at the consoles. Hackett and Zhaojie exchanged glances, "The… grey things are required?" That got a nod. Hackett spoke up, "And the leaders… what… use them to fly?" another vigorous nod.

Zhaojie gave a lopsided grin, "We have some grey ones. Still alive. Can you help with them?" The alien soldier looked pensive, then made the 'not a leader' mime and Zhaojie frowned. Then the alien pointed at Hackett. It gestured to the back of its head, tapped an ear and pointed at him. Then it tapped its head.

That elicited another shared, more exasperated, glance between the two humans, "What the hell?" grumbled Hackett. The alien soldier rolled its eyes. Then it snapped its fingers and spoke, pointing at Hackett, "Think. Num. Bar." The Sergeant glanced at Zhaojie, who just shrugged. He then turned to the alien and frowned. The creature locked eyes with him, then held up its hands, flashing through a series of numbers. Hackett gasped, "Fuck me sideways with a horse cock."

Zhaojie stared at him, "What?"

"Bugger read my mind! Get the eff out you little…" the alien waved its hands placatingly, then pointed at Hackett, then mimed speaking and tapped its head.

"Seems you… sent your thoughts to it?" murmured Zhaojie. Hackett looked shaken, "Something you can tell me, Sergeant?"

"Not a bloody clue boss."

"Something for the good Doctor, perhaps. In the interim, time is not on out side," he looked at the alien, "I think this may help. We will feed you. Do you require anything else?" The alien considered, then pointed at the blade at Zhaojie's belt and then at the back of its head. The Chinaman blinked and then spoke, "Why?"

The alien swallowed, "Danger. Mind. Want. Talk." the effort of the English seemed to nearly send the thing to its knees.

"Can you not cut it out yourself?"

The alien shook its head, "Pain."

Zhaojie grimaced and Hackett nodded slowly, "Don't want to kill the golden goose, eh boss?"

"Yes. I would not know what we were doing? And he is the only one who can maybe help. Until we work out how you can."

"I think that is fairly simple," came a quiet voice as Jiayi stalked in. Hackett exhaled.

"Stop doing that, gives me a bloody heart attack."

She fixed him with a frown, "You aren't in danger from me."

"Still, bloody creepy."

She huffed, muttered something in Cantonese and looked at Zhaojie, "The grey things… they are not really a living thing. They are like cogs. Levers. And they need someone to drive them. The Sergeant."

"Hold up now, I can maybe parlour trick some numbers into a tricksy bloody soldier. But… talking to those creepy monkeys? You want me to put my brain near things we know can bugger about with the stuff in our heads?"

She fixed him with a cool stare, "And if we see you go mad, we shoot the grey monkey. Will that suffice?"

Hackett spread his arms and harrumphed, "Lieutenant, could you please drag your little ruddy harpy back in line?" Jiayi bristled and squared up to the Sergeant, "Yeah love, get all tough. I lost most of my fucking men today, haven't had any sleep and got fuckin' shot. So excuse me if I feel a bit reluctant to take Mr Bug Eyes Miraculous Brain Squeeze of a solution."

"Enough." Zhaojies voice was hard. He looked at Jiayi, "Your idea is not without merit. But the Sergeant is correct. We must know the risks. What if the things decided not to listen while we were in the air?"

The woman frowned but nodded. She turned to Hackett and bowed slightly, "My apologies. I sought only to provide a solution."

Hackett glared at her then seemed to sag, "Bugger it. Bugger it all. I'm grabbing a brew."

He slouched off, shoulders hunched. Jiayi looked at Zhaojie and flung a hand up in a 'see what I have to deal with'. The Lieutenant chuckled morosely, "What did you expect?"

"Him to do his duty?"

"And what is that, little blade? If I give you a Maxim gun and tell you to carry it with all its ammunition and take out a platoon, would you?"

She frowned, "I would… question, perhaps. But I would try."

"And then you would die. And maybe the people with you would die. Duty is very good. But duty with a sense of how to execute it effectively is better. So, maybe, if this is the way… we should explore the how. As well as whether it is the only way."

He looked at the alien next to him, who was quiet, almost subdued. Jiayi frowned at it, "What do we do with it?"

"Feed…. Him. Keep him away from the troops. Try to talk to him. Glean what you can. And find out what is in his head."

"Interrogate?"

"No. There is actually something in his head. We should see if we can perhaps remove it. Or at least understand it."

Hackett trudged across the open space between the broken tower building and the landing pad, moving away from the dratted ship. What he'd thought was ringing in his ears he now realised was a low hum from the ship. But no one else seemed to hear it. He nearly stumbled as he approached the building, blinking his eyes rapidly as his head throbbed. He'd felt something all through this bloody mission. And back in London, in that sewer. What was it? He remembered knowing that one of those discs had been coming. He remembered the weird sense of confusion he'd felt that had seemed to spread to the enemies in that damned factory.

And now one of their soldiers could hear when he thought?

He moved to where a small cooking pot had been set up, just outside the front entrance. Corporal Essex was squatting near it and did a double take as he saw Hackett's expression.

"Sarge, you alright?"

"Fuck no. Fuck this. Fuck this bleeding war," he let out a sigh, "I'm too bloody tired for this. Any stew left, feel I need a bloody stiffener though."

Essex grinned and fished a canteen from his belt and handed it over, "Some of the lads found a few abandoned bottles of some good stuff. A bar, apparently, have buried. Should take the edge off."

The Sergeant took a swig and gave half a grin, "Drinking on the job, Corporal?"

The man met his gaze, "Handed it over, like a goodun, though. Thought you might want to check for contraband."

Hackett chuckled, took another swig, then handed it back, "Eh, we could be dead in ten minutes. As long as you can shoot mostly straight. Bloody hell, what's got into me."

The Corporal shrugged and reattached the canteen to his belt, before turning back to the stew, "Survived an impossible battle and now stuck in the middle of enemy territory?"

"Sharp bloody tongue, lad."

"Eh, use what god gave you, my ma said." he cocked his head as he ladled out some stew into a mess tin and handed it to the Sergeant, "So, scuse the impertinence, but what's got you looking like a rupert who just got found with the maid?"

Hackett huffed, shooting the junior a glare, but he couldn't keep it up, "Weird stuff, Essex. Weird bloody stuff," he fished a fork from one of the pouches on his belt and scarfed the stew down, practically inhaling it, then handed the tin back, "Need to think. Lieutenant has a plan with the ship but… need one of them little grey buggers to pull it off."

"Them creepy little arseholes? That why we're keeping the two we bundled alive?"

Hackett sighed, "Thought we'd haul them back somehow. The Doctor always wants more. Maybe this lot, being in an HQ would be different," the Sergeant sighed, then tilted his head back,

"So, where are they stashed?"

Essex thumbed back to the building, "Upstairs. Got a couple of lads watching them. Docile now we got those halo things on 'em. And that second hybrid fellah. Less chatty than the wounded one. Mainly cos he's still out cold."

"We got two?"

"Think your lot brought one up here, we snagged another one. God knows how we're going to ship the blighters down south though."

Honestly, Hackett was a bit vague on the details himself. His mind was foggier than he liked. The pulse of combat, blood loss, the trek up to this blasted place. He was exhausted. But he was also a Sergeant. And it wouldn't do to let that show. H nodded at Essex. "Cheers. Right, get the lads fed. Think the Lieutenant will want us shipping out soon, one way or another. If we can't use that thing, well… it's a long walk."

The Corporal grimaced but nodded, then set about chivvying the troops to grab some food, several filing out from the building, while others stood up from where they'd been leaning in the rubble. Hackett made his way inside then climbed the stairs. He walked past the collapsed floor and into one of the side rooms. The building was sparsely furnished, but he could see flickering purple and yellow displays. They cast no light, so he had a sneaking suspicion that only he could see them.

Had he hit his head that hard?

The Insectoids were huddled in a corner of the sideroom, the comatose trooper laying on the floor nearby. They'd tied the creature's hands and ankles, just in case. Two soldiers stood inside, watching the captives. The grey creatures were disarmed, their wrist weapons having been removed. That alone seemed to make them much more docile. The set of silver crowns, made of alien alloy and a few streaks of copper reinforced that.

The creatures were always jittery when they were captured, often having to be leashed or dragged on rope to stop them skittering off, or just to keep them still. The "halos" made them pretty passive, much like putting the hood on a hawk. Which meant he was surprised that both of the things turned and fixed him with a stare as soon as he entered.

The soldiers tensed, glancing between the Sergeant and the creatures Hackett rubbed an eye with a knuckle and frowned. The buzz was back, but muted this time. And this time it came from… the creatures. It sounded like a quieter version of the hum from the ship.

"You ok Sarge?" whispered one of the soldiers, his gaze drifting between the aliens and his Sergeant. Hackett waved him away.

"Grab one of the shock rods from downstairs. Want to… try something," what the hell was he doing? He'd come over here to get some space. But he'd made a beeline for the sodding aliens? He grumbled internally - Zhaojie was right, they couldn't really just trek south without trying. And this way he could show that this wouldn't work and then they could go find a working boat.

And fight the lost.

And try to get back to London before that bloody huge ship that had been here but now wasn't… got there.

That last thing worried him the most. And unsettled him. Something that large couldn't or shouldn't be in the air. Wasn't natural. Went against god. Or something.

He blinked, realising how tired he was. This was clearly a terrible idea. The clatter of the trooper returning, but with another man in tow, roused him from the daydream. The Insectoids were watching him. Motionless.

"Right. You, take one of their halos off. You, standby with the sodding lance. See any purple stuff from it, or it looks like it's doing that weird hand wavy buggery, then zap it and put the halo back on, got it?"

The three men chorused "yes sergeant", then went to it. The first man stepped forward and plucked the halo from one of the creatures then practically leapt backwards as the thing straightened. The lance-man readied his staff, whilst the third soldier shifted, uncertain. Hackett just stared at the creature, his brain a whirl of exhaustion, confusion, fear. And loss.

Wait. Loss?

The emotions roiled around him, familiar and yet somehow off. He was tired, yes. But this was a sense of exhaustion that wasn't settled in his own muscles or his own mind. A wave of fear rolled over him but again, it felt off.

"Sarge… is it… I think I see purple."

Hackett blinked, then laughed, "Oh you little sod," he fixed the small, grey alien with a glare and the thing suddenly backed away, "Tryin' to get in my head, were you? But you ain't feelin exactly chipper, are you, me old china?"

The alien looked confused and a word floated to the forefront of his mind. Chosen?

"No a clue you ugly little gibbon."

Avatar?

"Buggered if I know."

Elder?

"Well, ain't you a sodding cheeky one," he gestured at the guard with the lance, "It's trying to wobble my brain."

The man stepped forward, readying the lance and the creature flicked its gaze at him. Hackett saw a swirl of purple and he reacted. As he stepped forward to help the man a thought crossed his brain in tandem: NO!

The alien rocked on its feet and fell backwards. The lance soldier blinked in surprise, "Didn't touch it Sarge."

Hackett blinked. Then he grinned, "Nah. But I think I gave it a slap. Let's see…"

Jiayi lounged outside the strange craft as, inside, Zhu Zhang tried to communicate with the strange creature. They'd dragged it to where Essex had been handing out stew, which the creature had eaten with only a faint grimace. Then Zhu Zhang had taken it back to the ship to ask more questions. The light was fading on another day. Idly, she wondered where Hackett had gone. He'd vanished from the ship and had been inside for a good couple of hours. She'd had time to conduct a patrol and he hadn't come back out.

There was irritation there, for his fear. But she was also somewhat sympathetic. She remembered hiding in the ports, as a young girl, from the unpleasant attentions of European sailors and unscrupulous city officials looking to "rough it" in the dock areas. She'd had to make tough decisions to survive, to keep her family alive. Put herself at risk, perhaps put others at risk for a greater reward.

The man seemed to understand but she couldn't really understand what it was that Zhu Zhang wanted from the Sergeant. It seemed to go beyond just telling the strange creatures what to do. Compelling them on a deeper level? But how?

She heard a commotion over by the communication building and did a double take. In a moment she was on her feet, rifle unslung and levelled at the door.

"Hah. Nice to get one over on you for once," the voice came from the shadows of the building

A little grey creature waddled out of the door, the soldiers outside unsure, weapons ready. Out of the shadow of the door stepped Hackett. His forehead was slick with sweat and his gaze was mostly focused on the squat creature in front of him.

"Sergeant. It has you in its thrall!" she readied her rifle. And then the creature flopped onto its back, miming death throes as it clutched its heart. Or where a heart would be on a human. It then splayed its arms out, theatrically.

She blinked, then looked at the Sergeant. The man seemed unsteady on his feet and a soldier was hovering nearby, ready to grab him, "Playing… the little bugger… like a fiddle. Look! No hands!"

The man's words were slurring and his eyes had a faintly manic glint - shock, fear, exhilaration? It was hard to tell. Jiayi watched as Hackett waved a soldier forward. The man tentatively put a halo device on the creature. The impact was instant, the small creature seeming to seize up into a foetal position. Hackett slumped and let out a breath, more a wheeze.

"Bloody hell that leaves one hell of a hangover."

She looked from the creature to Hackett, confused, "Shenme gui?!"

Hackett looked up and gave a lopsided grin and ran a hand through the grey-brown stubble on his chin, "Guess that's means you're a bit shocked. Oh I like that expression. Bloody finally. Guess the ruddy Snow Queen can be shocked."

She glared at him, then gestured to the alien, "What happened?"

"Took your advice. Bull by the horns. That sort of bollocks. The Lieutenant still chinwagging with the bug-eyed bugger?"

She nodded, still shocked. The Sergeant waved for the trooper to pick up the grey creature. Jiayi followed, slinging her rifle over her shoulder, "What.. so you can talk to them?"

The Sergeant nodded, "In a way. They're tricky little sods. Nasty thoughts."

She stared at him, "You seem… at ease?"

He paused and looked at her, "No. Not really. I can hear fucking monsters think. And they can hear me. Frankly, I'm torn between shooting it, shooting myself or maybe some sort of alcohol based oblivion. Cos I feel right buggered now," his eyes were hard, and she could see he was shaking slightly, "But apparently I'm the only bastard who seems to be able to stoke the boiler, so let's just go and talk to the Lieutenant, see what we can see."

"And what do you think that will be?" she asked cautiously, turning her head to look at him askance.

He had half turned away, then looked back at her, "I just want to know where we bolt this little bastard in. And then see if we can't get this ruddy Arabian nightmare of a flying house up in the air. Now, chinwag done, or do you want me to grab you a beer, take you down the music hall?"

She recoiled and frowned. The man seemed on a bit of a knife edge. Considering a few days ago his droll observations and weathered attitude had pushed them all along, this seemed unnerving. She watched as he and the soldier frogmarched the little creature into the craft.

This was turning into a stranger trip than she had anticipated.