The Notes and Memoirs of Reynolds, E.D.A.

Reynolds, The Beast

Most people know the things I do. They choose not to be aware of it.The things that I see, that I know, they are the sense of unease when you are forced to slow as you drive through a small town on the highway. In those small houses that shun the larger world is where my world is. There, the battles are fought to give you the sense of relief you feel as you speed up, pushing as fast as you dare to get away from the town, and move on to your destination. Everything I do is deeply classified, but I feel that I must write a record of my battles, even if no one will ever read it. I cannot help the need to chronicle my fight, and the prices that have been paid.

J. S. Reynolds

11 March, 20XX

–

One: The Beast

In 1997, the Agency had tracked the movement of an alien origin craft (AOC) to somewhere far off the coast of South America. The craft had suddenly appeared on our long range radar scans. Agency engineers had come to the conclusion that either the craft used some variety of pulse-phase drive, or it had some sort of EM cloaking. Since no craft, alien or otherwise, had been cleared to operate in the area, we desperately hoped that the sudden appearance was due to a malfunctioning pulse-phase drive system. That left the chance that the craft was friendly. In later years, we would have know much more from tachyon communication telemetry, but the technology was far too new then. We were operating blind.

We launched from the Falklands in a heavily modified C-5 transport. Recon planes were sent ahead of us. Despite our transport's antimatter drive, we were limited by working “in-sphere”, as we call it. This left my team with a few hours to plan. I had recently been promoted to Captain, and this was the first mission in command. Vividly, I remember sitting in the briefing room with my team, waiting for any intel that the recon craft could offer. The recon plane did not detect any sign of the vessel on the surface of the ocean, but had no way of searching the depths for it. It did, however, detect the emissions of a fairly common warp drive leading into the depths. This troubled me greatly, and we assumed that a hostile ship whose cloaking system had failed entered the ocean. There was no debris that would signify a crash. The intents of the hostiles were unknown.

Upon reaching the "hot" zone, my team assembled. We would take the transport's submersible in search of the hostile craft, establish contact, and in all likelihood, engage them. The submersible we would take was armored and equipped with a variety of cutting tools to aid in boarding. Its offensive weapons were the same cutting tools. We would likely be completely outmatched. However, I felt (correctly) that time was of the essence and we couldn't wait for backup. Once we were able to board the craft, we would stand a much better chance of eliminating any threat. My team had been designed for this kind of engagement, and we were carrying suitable weaponry. I boarded the sub, double checked my gear, saw that all five of my team were already strapped into their seats, then told our pilot we were clear for launch.

I had just strapped myself into my harness as I felt the world suddenly drop. We had been released from the bay of the C-5. The entire sub shuddered as it struck the water.  The hum of the sub's engines increased in frequency and volume, and I was pushed back into my seat. The low altitude drop from our aircraft had gone smoothly, and we were underway. Luckily, we were able to follow the drive path of the hostile craft. The passenger cabin was well lit, but lacked windows. Benson, our pilot kept us informed of our progress over the teams tactical frequency.

"100 meters, no sign of slowing," I heard in my earpiece. "200 ... 300 ... damn. We're going real deep."

"Will that pose a problem, Benson?" I asked.

"Shouldn't. This baby is rated to 4 kilometers. 400, still no change of course."

I looked to my left at my second in command, Yves Stewart. "Stewart, signal the transport, let them know how deep we're diving. Have them touch down and wait two kilometers outside the hot zone."