Cold gray rain sheeted down on Erosh.

A lone Brainspawn crested the cloud cover and sank down through it, gliding through the silent streets. It passed the gutted carapace of a burned-out hovercar, and the still-smoking shell of a building. Here it paused, and sent a throbbing purple pulse into the ruins. It appeared to listen for a long moment, and then it moved on, apparently satisfied.

There was an aura of purple up ahead, in the main square.

The creature nodded to itself.

The square was the largest area of open space this meager planet possessed. The DOOP had used it for their drills, and it was logical to repurpose it now. The Brainspawn sent out another wave of violet light, widening it so it covered the entirety of the space. It touched on many minds.

Yes. This would do.

The initial assault had gone well. Now all that remained was to repurpose the planet's resources.

To a human eye, the scene in the square would have made for a chilling sight. The surviving members of the DOOP stood in formation, as if preparing for a drill. Some bled, from wounds they made no attempt to staunch. Some shivered, pale and soaked through after hours in the rain. Some were holding weapons, though they made no attempt to draw them.

Some were missing limbs.

They still saluted.

But each of them wore the same blank expression. Each of them had the same empty, unflinching gaze, and they stood, unfeeling, as the surrounding Brainspawn sent out a steady wave of purple. Over and over the wave rolled out, from one wall of sentinel Brains to their comrades on the opposite side of the square. Over and over, back and forth . . .

The soldiers stood, unmoving, as they were bathed in the light.

The newly-arrived Brainspawn – larger than the others – did not take his place in the ring. He glided through it instead, to the platform where a smaller cluster of brains awaited his attention. They were gathered around two figures – a human, and another of the lesser species.

"Squadron B," the Brain intoned. "Report your progress."

There was a burst of activity among the smaller brains, as if they were arguing among themselves. Eventually one of them was pushed forward by its peers.

As it crept forward the haze around it shrank, giving the impression it had huddled in on itself in fear.

"Squadron B has secured the assigned domain!" it reported. It sounded shrill. "We have secured a larger force than anticipated, including this human, which will be of great use to us in the fight against the Mighty One!"

The more senior Brain appeared to consider this.

It sent out a pulse towards the human on the ground.

"This human is dying," it said dismissively. "And matches no known records for an associate of the Mighty One."

"The association is a recent one, commander. And has great value! It is through the memories of this human that we have been able to verify the presence of the Mighty One on this planet, no less than twenty four hours ago!" The smaller Brain thrummed with excitement. "This human was injured by the Mighty One himself!"

A pulse of violet energy sobered the brain, and made it cringe again.

"Emotion distorts fact," the larger brain rebuked.

"Yes, commander," the smaller brain droned, in a dutiful, but unmistakably resentful, tone. "Emotions are the domain of lesser species," it recited, as if from memory. "Rational action alone will ensure the survival of the Brainspawn."

The larger Brainspawn appeared satisfied.

"Good," it intoned. "That is objective truth. Now I will examine the brain of this human and determine what use it may be to us."

A hard spike of light shot out from the underside of the Brain, and drove into the temple of the unconscious man on the ground. As it did so his eyes flew open and he screamed, gibberish rolling off his tongue.

He flailed in agony for several long minutes, as the bright thread of light streamed from his temple.

At last the Brain withdrew, apparently satisfied.

The man collapsed, his breathing ragged. The other creature - the one the Brainspawn had not deemed worthy of further interrogation - moved immediately to repair the damage.

This was as expected. Deep-conditioning had been successful with this creature. It would provide medical care for the captured humans, and restore them to full fighting capabilities.

As for the human on the ground . . .

Squadron B had been correct in their assessment. He would be of use.

Another, softer wave of light emanated now from the Brain. It washed over the man and pulsed slowly, soothing him into silence.

Gradually, his resistance ceased.

"Human," the Brain declared. "You are Captain Yearling of the organization known as the Democratic Order of Planets, informally referred to as the D-O-O-P. You will affirm this information."

There was silence. Then -

"Yes," the man said blankly.

"You had command here on this planet."

"Yes."

"You have encountered the human known to you as Marty McFly, known to the higher species as The Mighty One. Known to the lesser species as one Philip J Fry."

"Yes."

"You destroyed his associate, the human Eric Glottus."

"Yes."

The Brainspawn paused.

This information was true. It was satisfactory. The conditioning would take.

And so the Brain spoke again, in a tone that echoed in time with the throb of violet light.

"You will find and destroy Philip J Fry."

There was silence, save for the sound of falling water and the low, eerie hum of the Brainspawn aura.

The rain sleeted down, coating the man's slack face. Falling into his open eyes.

Then -

"Yes," he said dully.

And the Brain pulsed in cold triumph.