Hostile Genus: An Epic Military Sci-Fi Series (Invasive Species Book 2)

so loud as to overpower the hum of the transport and the wind outside, instantly cocooned the vessel, and the vibrations shivered through it from stem to stern. Panicked realization hit Jon like the angry, pointed finger of a wrathful god sending lightning to the earth to smite his foes.
“A Drop!”
Jon risked a glance behind him, out of reflex and concern for his friends. Maya’s eyes were wide with terror as her gaze met his. Carbine was awakened rudely, while Lucy was already on her feet and making her way to the cockpit.
As his stomach rose into his chest, Jon felt the transport lurch and sway, whether from Ratt jerking on the controls or from some outside force, he could not say. His knees began to buckle and give. He reached out and steadied himself on Ratt’s chair, fighting to maintain his balance.
“You can’t fly in!” Lucy screamed as she arrived in the cockpit. “You must avoid it!”
“I know!” a panicked Ratt screamed back through gritted teeth, pulling so hard on the dual-handled controls that wiry cords in his thin arms bulged and popped.
The crackling electric rift of blue and purple continued to grow before them, even as Ratt pulled the ship into a steep climb. The expansion of the Drop seemed to keep pace with them, but Ratt climbed higher, and Jon continued to hope.
Paralyzed with awe, Jon stared at the gaping mouth of the Drop. He thought he could see glimpses of stars amongst an infinite backdrop beyond the snapping tendrils of light and flashing cubes that decorated the curtains of the rift’s opening.
“Oh my...” The words tumbled out of his mouth like small stones falling from the fading grip of a dying man’s hand.
Time dilated, and Jon became aware of one single inward breath that stretched into what felt like a minute or more. The ship continued its sharp climb, higher and higher, yet the snapping eel-like tendrils that ringed the inside of the Drop’s opening inched closer and closer, filling up more and more of the viewport until they were all he could see.
The climb had become so steep that Jon fought mightily to keep from falling backward into the hold. Lucy, on the other hand, had no trouble at all, thanks to the magnetic pads in her feet. Jon threw another glance backward. Maya had managed to strap herself into her chair with the heavy-duty shoulder restraints. Carbine was now fully awake, confused and yelling, although Jon could not hear a word he said.
His gaze once again met Maya’s. Although he knew he had no control over the outcome of this disaster, Jon bravely nodded at her, trying to assuage some of her fear and worry.
“Oh, shit!” Jon heard Ratt exclaim, and turned around to see what was wrong now.
A massive creature almost twice the size of the transport appeared out of the vast darkness on the other side of the Drop and shot toward the climbing ship.
Jon only caught a glimpse of it. It was totally alien; he had never seen anything like it before. Its body was bell-shaped, its skin, if one could call it that, transparent. Inside its giant, limbless body, Jon spied clusters of crimson threads and assumed they must be the alien’s organs. Floating in the center of the diaphanous body was what looked to be a Mech-sized blob of partially cooked egg whites. Dangling beneath this bizarre bell hung a dozen or so vine-like appendages, seemingly as delicate as the rest of the thing’s body. Each one flashed with lights and electricity, similar to the arcs produced by the Drop itself.
The speed at which the next events took place prevented any further examination, for although it was surely unintentional, the aim of the Drop-Beastie was spot on. Like a bullet from a sling, the alien creature shot out of the Drop just as they were on the cusp of escaping it and struck the transport head-on.
The already steeply angled ship bucked and heaved, forcing Jon to clutch the chair with both hands to keep from falling back into the bulkhead. A tingling ran through his fingers. Before he could even question the sensation’s origin, its intensity raced to vibration, heat, and pain. He hurt, and he sensed the source of his pain was his hands, or perhaps the chair that they were hanging on to. He willed his hands to open and found to his dismay that he could not let go.
The Drop-Beast electrocuted the ship!
Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw Lucy become detached from the floor and float upward. He quickly realized the ship was frozen somewhere between climbing and falling. Its engines had suddenly cut out, adding another issue to the growing list of disastrous effects of contact with the alien jellyfish. Lucy’s levitation act only lasted for a second before being interrupted by the pilot’s console exploding in a shower of sparks and steel.
The blast from the console ripped through the cabin, flipping Jon over the chair, which he was still anchored to, like a windsock in a gale storm. Lucy, on the other hand, was flung forcefully back to the rear of the ship, striking a wall above the stairway before tumbling down further into the cargo hold.
A dozen arcs of electricity, identical to the kind seen on the edges of a Drop, shot out of the console and lanced Ratt’s body with their forked tongues. They pierced him like skewers, causing him to twitch violently, but one lone tendril missed, shooting past into the passenger cabin, where it struck Maya. Jon heard Maya yelp in surprise, but her voice was quickly drowned out by Ratt’s agonized screams. Within seconds, though, he mercifully passed out. Merciful for him, but not so much for everyone else.
A shower of sparks rained down on Maya and Carbine from the ruined console. The lights in the cabin went out, adding to the eldritch glow of the streaming blue Drop light and its shadows. Jon looked back