Note: I am sorry for taking so long to update. I just graduated college and barely made it home in time for my sister's wedding. Now that things have calmed down significantly I should be able to update more often. This is the 8th and final draft of the prologue. I'll leave the first one up for comparison but I think I'll only upload final drafts from here on.

Let me know what you think! Even if it is just a suggestion of using a different word in a particular spot.

Prologue

First Contact

January 29th 1986, Russia

The MH6-Little Bird's rotor thrummed dully overhead, muffled by the headset Max wore. He flipped his collar up and huddled further into his cold weather flight jacket, trying unsuccessfully to prevent the wind from biting into his neck. At 2,000 meters up, the scenery was beautiful. Dalnegorsk spread out below them in the valley, surrounded by hills that were carpeted with the skeletons of hibernating trees. This place would look magical in the fall, Max mused to himself. I'll have to visit when I'm on leave and try the local cuisine.

The hum from the "Killer Egg's" rotors decreased as the helicopter began to arc towards a hill adjacent to the town. Max instinctively double checked his tethering hook as the helicopter tilted slightly beneath him. The Killer Egg was a nimble bird but didn't have much in the way of space. He sat with his back pressed against the hull on a platform that was barely wide enough to support his thighs. It didn't reach his knees, leaving his legs to dangle precariously over a 2,000 meter drop.

Donovan was hooked in next to him with Heath and Cody on the other side of the helicopter. The pilot, Jack, who had been temporarily assigned to their team, would be acting as translator for the mission. Their CO, Phil, was "assisting" as copilot and was enjoying the relative warmth of the cockpit.

Far below and ahead of them, Max could faintly see fires burning from the crash. Some object had fallen from space and landed on the hillside near the Russian town. Their team had received orders to assist the Soviets in investigating. They'd apparently been deployed at the request of the Soviets, which was odd because technically, they were at war. What could they need help with badly enough to ask for assistance from the US? With the fall of the Berlin Wall the Soviet Union seemed to be struggling. But enough for the commies to ask the capitalist US for help? Why would the US only send a team? 6 men wasn't a lot when you're surrounded by "friendly" Reds. And why had they been deployed? Special Reconnaissance wasn't usually deployed for peacekeeping, clean up, or recovery. Max mentally shrugged. They would find out soon enough.

Phil's voice crackled through the headset, "ETA 10 minutes." Max heard a mischievous smile creep into his CO's voice, "Are ya' nervous Tennyson? Don't worry kid, you can hold my hand if you get scared." His CO's good humored mockery had already started to get old even though he had only been a member of the team for 6 months. At 25 he was the youngest member, and this was his first mission with them. Regardless, he still felt he was a part of their brotherhood. Weeks of rigorous training, studying, and suffering together had bought them closer to each other than Max had ever felt with anyone, even his own family. Especially his own family.

"Are you going blind old man?" Max retorted, "Need someone to lead you around? No shame in just asking."

"Only if it's you." Phil replied and made a smooching sound over the radio.

Max snorted and shook his head, ignoring the banter and hitched his M16A2 rifle into a more comfortable position.

Glancing at Donovan, Max noticed he was fiddling with his colored cube again. Donovan always had liked puzzles and had spent the past few weeks trying to solve the "Rubik's Cube", the most recent craze. He was an intelligent guy and wanted to own his own business when he got out of the military. He had the smarts for it. Max had never liked the idea of running a business. Too risky.

Flares sprang to life as the helicopter neared the mountainside; ethereal, dancing red lights outlining the LZ.

When the Little Bird finally landed, Max unhooked himself and jumped down. He adjusted his gear and double checked his equipment, paused, then triple checked it. Never hurts to be sure.

They had landed about a dozen meters down the mountain from the lip of the crater. With the dying rotors of the Little Bird, smoke swirled violently around them. The smell of burning wood assaulted their noses. Max watched the smoke drifting slowly along the hillside, making its way down the mountain; his eyes calculating. It probably hadn't been too long since the crash. A couple hours at the most.

With his general survey and equipment check complete, Max looked towards the lip of the crater and saw a Soviet officer making his way down the slope. Jack finished shutting the helicopter down and jumped from the pilot's seat to meet the officer at the edge of the makeshift helipad for a brief conference. Max couldn't understand what was being said but watched as Jack's face slowly morphed into one of bemusement. The rest of the team were checking and tightening their gear. It was marginally warmer here on the ground but not by much and the movement helped to stretch out their muscles and get their blood moving. Donovan had stowed his Rubik's cube and was shifting from foot to foot trying to keep warm.

Jack and the Soviet officer separated, and Jack made his way over to Phil. They started talking quietly enough that Max couldn't hear them. Phil was nodding through most of the report but as Jack finished, he looked at Jack with an eyebrow raised as if to ask if he was joking. With a small shrug Jack implied that no further explanation had been given. Phil turned to the rest of the team.

"Single file, on me." He turned and they fell into their marching order as they made their way up the slight incline to the crash site. The Soviets were already there, moving rocks and cutting down burning trees; stacking them around the lip crater.

As they crested the hill, Max got his first good look at the crater. It was rather small, only about 20 meters in diameter. Notably, a white structure rose out of the middle of the crater, about the size of a shed. It was still smoking and was the obvious cause of the devastation. So, it had been a satellite after all. An American one perhaps? That would explain their presence.

"Hold here, we don't know how safe this thing is. Donovan, with me." Phil commanded. Phil and Donovan made their way towards the satellite as the rest of the team settled in behind some rocks. Max shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently in the cold. Heath, another team member, shuffled over to Jack and asked, "What did the Red say?" Max, and the rest of the team, inched closer to hear the reply.

"The object landed at about 2000. No attempt to approach has been made but they-" He was cut off by a loud scraping sound coming from the center of the crater. Phil and Donovan, who had been carefully picking their way towards the object, ran back and jumped behind a pile of rocks. The guns of both the Soviets and the American clicked as they were lifted and trained on the satellite. What appeared to be a hatch had opened on the top of the structure.

A strange voice shouted from the structure in Russian.

The soviet soldiers glanced at one another but none of them said anything.

"What did he say?" Heath whispered to Jack.

"'Please lower your firearms.'" Jack translated. "I have no clue what's going on. This must be a cosmonaut who fell from space. But I see no parachutes nearby and landing on the water is much safer than the land. It's a miracle he survived. Why aren't they rushing to his aid?"

The soviet officer yelled back in Russian, and a brief reply came from the structure. Jack frowned and coked his head but didn't translate.

"Well?" Heath whispered impatiently, "What did-"

Before he could finish his question, a small head poked out from within the satellite. It looked vaguely like a frog; with bulbous green eyes set into a tiny head. Black, rectangular pupils darted around as it glanced about. Its skin was gray and though it was a fair distance away Max could see it had a scaley quality. A few tendrils extended from it chin looking vaguely like a beard. The thing blinked and its eyelids darted in from the sides. After a brief pause to take everything in, it climbed up onto the now horizontal hatch revealing its entire body. Even though it looked like a frog, it stood upright on two legs and it couldn't have been more than 15 cm tall. It definitely wasn't a species of frog that Max had ever seen. It was even wearing clothes. A white jumpsuit. The frog opened its mouth and Max froze in astonishment as the thing yelled some Russian at the Soviets.

Max's brain was trying to comprehend what he was seeing. When it finally caught up with his eyes, he realized that one of the greatest questions of humanity had just been answered.

Humans were not alone in the universe.