Riptide Rising

Chapter One

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

As Petty Officer Third Class Xander Kapp floated in the escape pod, weightless and alone, he could still hear the screams of his fellow crew members.

He had not wanted to leave them. He was no deserter. He should be dead like the rest of them aboard the UWSC Alpha.

The Alpha had been a beautiful ship — white, accented with grays and light blues on the inside. Now all Kapp could picture was the blood splattered across his workstation's instruments.

He survived the attack through no choice of his own. As the echoes of his fallen brothers and sisters threatened to break what remained of his sanity, he forced himself to focus on one thought: he had a mission.

He had to get back to United Worlds Command.

Kapp barely remembered how he had ended up in the pod. One thing stood out through the chaos: the invaders’ words. Their leader’s voice had not just been heard, it resonated in his mind.

"One will survive. All others will die."

_______________________________________

Hours earlier, it had been an ordinary shift aboard the Alpha. Their mission was to chart an unexplored sector of the galaxy.

Kapp, as part of the navigation crew, sat beside Petty Officer Kendall Bristax, plotting a course between gravity wells.

Bristax was tall and sharp-witted, with perpetually unruly brown hair. Regulations required it to be tied back, but no matter what she did, strands always fell into her eyes when she leaned over the star maps. Kapp had long ago named the motion she used to shake the hair away the Bristax “shudder”.

"Is it cold in here?" he teased as she flipped her hair aside.

"No, I just shudder at the thought of another shift spent arguing with you over the safest star alley, Kapp."

"Well, it's your lucky day," Kapp said with a chuckle, suppressing his disappointment at Bristax’s matter-of-fact tone. "This time we do it exactly as I say, and no one has any need to argue."

Bristax raised an eyebrow. "May I remind you that if we had done it exactly your way yesterday, we would be nothing but space debris right now?"

She referred to the small asteroid cloud he had insisted they could navigate. Her last-minute intervention saved them from disaster.

She pushed her bangs back again and wrinkled her nose. "What stinks?"

At first, Kapp thought she was making an uncharacteristic joke. Then the smell hit him like a physical blow.

The Alpha’s bridge was laid out in a half-circle, with rows of workstations facing the central viewport. The viewport displayed vital data — ship speed, gravity pull, and other diagnostics — over a breathtaking view of deep space.

Kapp had always admired the efficiency of the bridge’s design. Every station had a purpose, each console humming with soft lights and precise readings. But now, those lights flickered under the pulse of flashing red alarms.

A foul, putrid stench filled the air.

The Alpha had an advanced oxygen system. Normally, the air was crisp and lightly scented with fruit trees. Kapp had noticed it the moment he first stepped aboard. Now, it smelled like a rotting whale carcass.

Across the bridge, crew members grimaced, covering their noses. Even Captain Jerrick Krell reacted, his sharp gaze scanning for the source. Krell was as tough as they came — broad-shouldered, aging but powerful, and known for leaving junior crewmen bruised after combat training. Beneath his hardened exterior, he was a respected leader.

The alarms blared louder. Red lights pulsed, casting jagged shadows across the bridge’s sleek consoles and instruments. Something was terribly wrong.

"Lieutenant Malta, report!" Krell shouted.

"Deck seven is sealed, sir. There was a change in atmosphere." She hesitated. "It looks like there may have been a leak."

"Kapp, Bristax, did we hit something?" the captain demanded as his gaze fell on them.

"No, sir," Bristax answered quickly. "We are in a particularly empty area. There is nothing to collide wi—"

The bridge doors unsealed.

A thick wave of the foul stench poured in as the heavy doors slid apart. All eyes turned toward the opening.

They stood there. Seven of them.

The leader towered over the others, easily seven feet tall. His face was mostly human, framed by waist-length, dreaded black hair. But his eyes, glowing red in unnaturally gray skin, radiated something beyond malice.

From the neck down, he was encased in a greenish-blue shell, like an unboiled lobster’s exoskeleton. One arm ended in an armored hand, which clutched a jagged, bone-colored weapon lined with blackened spikes. The other arm terminated in a massive, lobster-like claw.

Flanking him were six similar creatures, each over six feet tall. Their carapace-like armor extended into full helmets with narrow slits that revealed the same hellish red eyes. They moved in perfect unison, their long black hair drifting behind them like tendrils in water.

Each carried brutal weapons of similar color. Some had jagged clubs, others wielded long serrated saws.

The bridge crew raised their sidearms.

"Halt!" exclaimed Captain Krell. "Stop, we are friendly," he said, knowing that the approaching invaders were not.

A voice pierced the air all around them. It was the leader of the invaders, but the voice didn't just emanate from him. It came from all of them. It seemed to bounce off the walls. Kapp felt it inside his head as clearly as he heard it all around him. The tone was cold and almost calm, which seemed impossible given the volume at which it was heard and felt.

"One will survive. All others will die."

As he spoke the words, a helmet extended from his armor and encased his head like the others.

"Die fighting. Die standing. The choice is yours."

The crew opened fire. Bullets slammed into their armored bodies but ricocheted away harmlessly.

The invaders advanced, raising their claws like shields. Then, with terrifying speed, they charged, crashing into the first line of crewmen. Smashing with both crude weapons and claws, they tore through the crew. They fought with no fear of death or injury.

Kapp fired until his sidearm clicked empty. He drew his knife, knowing it would be useless. Around him, other crew members did the same, slashing and stabbing ineffectively in desperation.

One of the creatures struck Kapp with its claw. He flew backward and slammed into a console.

Dazed, he pushed himself up just in time to see Bristax lunging at an attacker. He shouted at it and threw his knife, trying to distract it. It clattered against the carapace of the monster and then uselessly to the floor. The creature turned and glowered at him.

As it did, Bristax flipped her hair from her eyes, then leapt onto its back, plunging her knife into its eye slit. The thing screamed, shaking her off. It caught her by the throat with its claw.

Kapp averted his gaze at the sight but couldn't stop the sound of cracking sinew and bone as the claw clamped shut.

The crew was gone. Only Captain Krell remained, surrounded by all seven invaders.

Krell spat blood onto the floor. "One at a time, demons."

The leader stepped forward. One of the others tossed Krell its weapon. Krell stood, staring down the leader, holding his newly acquired spiked blade.

"To the death?" Krell snarled.

He swung once. The leader caught the blade in his claw and then brought his own weapon down.

Kapp did not see the impact, but he saw Krell’s body hit the ground.

The invaders fanned out, finishing off the wounded. Their leader turned, fixing Kapp with those soulless, burning eyes.

He moved faster than something his size should. In a blink, he was on Kapp, lifting him by the throat.

Cold. Unyielding. One twitch and his head would be gone.

The voice came again, invading his ears and mind.

"You live to tell of what happened. This is a challenge. Bring your weapons and ships. Attempt to destroy us. War is coming. We are the Nokken."

The next thing Kapp knew, he was in the escape pod, hurtling into space.

Alone.

Chapter Two

Kapp awoke with a gasp.

He had been dreaming of Bristax — only she was no longer Bristax. Her brown hair turned black, her green eyes burned red. She shook her hair out of her face, just like always, but this time she wasn't human. She was one of them.

A falling sensation jolted him awake. He hit the ground hard.

On the ground? He thought, That can’t be right. He should have been floating in zero gravity, yet there he laid nursing a bruised backside. He peered through the small window hatch of the escape pod and was shocked at what he saw.

Gazing through the thick, hazy glass, he was sure he saw a beach. He inspected the small monitor in the pod and was surprised to find that the atmosphere was suitable for humans.

That made no sense.

In the two hundred years since the invention of the quark drive, only ten habitable planets had been discovered and colonized. None contained sentient life — only animals and plant life, not unlike Earth's more remote regions.

Yet here he was, standing on solid ground when he should have been drifting in deep space.

He and Bristax had plotted their course with precision. Their sector of space had been empty. Navigating the unknown was a delicate science, requiring careful planning and the use of long-range drones to scout ahead. There was no way he had somehow ended up on an undiscovered habitable planet.

Kapp reached for the red handle to unseal the pod but hesitated.

His mind flashed back to the Nokken. He could almost see them rising from the water, their claws snapping shut around his throat as easily as they had ended the lives of his crewmates.

If they wanted you dead, they would have finished you on the Alpha.

Grinding his teeth, he shoved the thought aside and yanked the handle downward. The door hissed as it fell open, releasing a rush of warm, heavy air. He felt as though hot spa water had been dumped into the escape pod, not breathable air.

The humidity hit him like a physical blow. The shift from the stale, climate-controlled air of the escape pod to the thick, moisture-laden atmosphere was overwhelming. Kapp fell to his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he fought back nausea. Each breath felt like inhaling steam. His hair clung to his scalp, already slick with sweat. Slowly, his body was adjusting.

Opening his eyes, he peered down at the ground through the door of the pod. Standing there outside the door on the ivory-colored sand was a small orange creature.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Roughly the size of his boot, it resembled a four-legged starfish, its limbs ending in dull points that pressed into the ivory-colored sand. A fifth limb stretched upward, forming a thin neck that supported its small head. It had no nose, just a long slit for a mouth, and two large, yellow eyes that locked onto him with unsettling intensity.

“What are you?” it said, revealing rows of sharp-looking teeth.

Kapp recoiled. He heard the voice in his brain and his ears, just like he had the Nokken. Though it came across amused and slightly jovial — almost boyish — its voice didn’t assail his brain, but instead seemed amused.

“Ahh!” he gasped involuntarily, shaken up by the day's events. “Can you understand me? How can I understand you?”

The creature’s voice chittered with delight. “You have brain?”

“Yes, I have a brain,” Kapp said, unsure if he should be insulted.

“I understand,” the creature replied, as if that explained everything.

Kapp sighed. It didn’t feel like a sufficient answer, but he doubted he would get more out of the little thing.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Home Ship.”

That wasn't remotely helpful.

“Sure… Home Ship,” Kapp muttered.

He stepped down from the pod and took in his surroundings.

A massive, white dome encased the beach. There was no single source of light, yet the entire space glowed with an even, natural brightness. The sand stretched in a wide strip between the wall and a vast body of water. From where he stood, he could barely make out the other side of the dome across the water’s surface. He felt like he had been dropped inside an upside-down fishbowl.

“Well, little guy — uh, thing,” he began.

“Splunk.”

“Right. Splunk.” Kapp sighed. “Well, Splunk, I have no idea how I got here.”

“From cave,” Splunk said matter-of-factly, lifting one of its front limbs to point at the escape pod.

“Yes, but how did my ‘cave’ get here?”

“Cave fell from outside,” it responded with a hint of impatience.

Kapp clenched his jaw. Splunk was barely answering his questions, yet it sounded irritated — like Kapp was the dimwitted one in this conversation.

“You ‘Ahhh!’” Splunk mimicked his earlier gasp with eerie accuracy. “Follow Splunk ‘Ahhh!’”

“My name is Xander Kapp,” he said, exasperated, “and I’m not sure I want to follow you anywhere.”

“This looks like a stimulating conversation,” a new voice interjected.

Kapp stiffened. The voice echoed inside his head, just like the others, making it difficult to pinpoint its source. It was feminine, confident, and carried an air of authority.

A sleek, pastel-purple head emerged from the water.

A white fin ran along the top of its head, with two more where its ears should have been. Large, dark blue eyes, almost entirely pupils, studied him with curiosity.

“Qualia here now,” Splunk muttered, deflating. “Xanderkapp will leave.”

Kapp frowned. “Xanderkapp?”

Before he could question it, Qualia propelled herself out of the water in a graceful flip. She landed on webbed feet with practiced ease.

She was tall, easily six foot five from the tip of her head fin. A long, powerful tail extended another three feet behind her, ending in twin white fins. A ridge of black scales lined her spine and continued down her tail, each one tipped in a sharp point.

She wore a pristine white breastplate over her torso, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, and a segmented armored kilt that hung just above her knees. In one hand, she held a long, white spear that added another foot to her already imposing height.

“I was sent to fetch you,” she announced, gesturing with her weapon. “Come with me. We must not waste time.”

She gave Splunk a disapproving glance before performing an effortless backflip into the water. Her head reappeared a moment later.

“Hurry!” she chided before disappearing beneath the surface.

Kapp hesitated.

The navy of two centuries ago had been trained in water combat. The navy of 2200 navigated ships in space. Kapp had excelled in low-gravity hand-to-hand combat and the intricacies of spaceflight, but swimming? That was another story.

“Splunk, I breathe air, not water,” he said, turning to the small creature.

“Air in water.”

“Right, but I don’t have gills to separate the air. I have lungs.”

“Gills?” Splunk tilted its head, looking confused. “Splunk has lungs.”

Kapp frowned, trying to decipher what it meant. He inched toward the water’s edge, debating his next move.

Splunk scurried closer. “Follow Qualia?”

“I can’t. She’s underwater!”

Kapp’s frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He had been through hell, and now the only thing paying attention to him was this walking, slow-witted, starfish-like creature.

“Splunk help,” it chittered with conviction.

Owww! he tried to scream, but his mouth refused to obey. His body lurched forward, plunging into the water. The land dropped off suddenly and he was staring down into the depths. His eyes didn’t sting from salt, and he could see deeply through the clear bright blue. He began to panic internally as water entered his mouth and nose. His mind screamed that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be able to breathe, but he was. Against his own will, his lungs expanded, pulling in water as if it were air. But that had to be impossible. He braced for the inevitable burn, for his body to seize in protest as he drowned. Instead, the water moved through him effortlessly, cool and thick, but somehow natural. His pulse pounded in his ears as panic fought against logic.

The pain in his neck faded. His limbs were his own again.

Splunk floated beside him, grinning. “See? Water has air.”

Kapp glared at Splunk. “Did you just control me?”

Kapp couldn’t believe it. Not only could he somehow breathe under this water, he could speak.

Splunk smiled disarmingly. its sharp teeth that had just bit into his spine filled Kapp with a wave of nausea.

“Splunk helped!”

Its joy-filled answer did little to make Kapp feel better about the situation. Splunk had taken control of his body and forced him to breathe under the water. Kapp was furious and still confused.

“Never ever do that again. I will control myself from now on.” He struggled to contain the rage in his voice.

Qualia’s finned head emerged beside him.

“Why do you dawdle?” she demanded. “The Shoal awaits. Come now!”

Then she vanished into the depths of the water.

Splunk skittered through the water as if he was still on land. He climbed onto Kapp’s shoulder.

“Follow Qualia. Breathe air,” it urged.

Not liking the situation and resisting the urge to splat Splunk, Kapp dove down and followed, shocked every time he took a breath and didn’t drown

Chapter Three

Breathing underwater on Home Ship was something Kapp still could not wrap his head around. Swimming felt more like controlling his body in low gravity than truly moving through water. It was lighter, had little resistance, and was breathable. As he swam downward, following Qualia’s trail, he took in his surroundings.

The water was crystal clear but shimmered slightly from the light above, illuminating the landscape perfectly. Pure white cliffs formed canyons and mountains at the bottom. As he looked closer, he saw different varieties of seaweed-like plants cultivated neatly in rows. Bright orange, dark purple, deep red, and fluorescent yellow strands glowed softly as more aliens like Qualia tended to them. These beings lacked the ceremonial-looking armor she wore. Interspersed among the fields were caves in the cliffs, all shining with the same yellow light as the glowing seaweed. They continued toward a large cave with a wide opening at the end of the main canyon.

“You do not swim well,” Qualia said, breaking Kapp’s moment of wonder.

“I do not do a lot of swimming, and your water is weird,” Kapp replied, in continued surprise that he could speak clearly underwater. He was doing his best to keep up, but he had not even had time to remove his boots before Splunk had “helped” him into the water.

“What do they call yo—” Qualia began.

“Splunk!” Splunk interjected.

Qualia stopped swimming and stared intensely at the little creature perched on Kapp’s shoulder. Her dark blue eyes narrowed in anger.

“I would not lower myself to speak to you, Splunk. Keep quiet.”

Kapp was growing tired of Qualia’s superior attitude. He disliked arrogance, even from those who were the best at something. Splunk was irritating, but Kapp felt an odd sense of responsibility for him. The little creature seemed well-intentioned, even when he was controlling Kapp’s actions.

“My full name is Xander Kapp. You can just call me Kapp. What’s your deal with Splunk?”

“I have no arrangement with Splunk. Lower life forms should be avoided.” With that, she turned and continued forward. “Come, Xanderkapp, we must hurry.”

That was not exactly what Kapp had meant, but he recognized a dead topic when he saw one.

“Just Kapp,” he muttered as he followed.

He noticed an absence of life beyond the workers in the fields, but as they neared the large cave, a flurry of activity came into view. Light pastel beings like Qualia moved throughout the space, but he also saw light orange versions of the same species. The orange variety was shorter than Qualia but still tall by human standards, averaging around six feet three inches. Where Qualia and the other purple beings were lean and covered in rope-like muscle, the orange ones were thick and heavily built, with physiques that would put bodybuilders to shame. They wore the same white armored kilts as Qualia, but instead of a breastplate, their chests were bare, displaying their massive frames. Kapp assumed the purple versions were female and the orange ones were male.

Inside the cave, Kapp noticed that all the females carried oversized spears like Qualia’s, though slightly shorter. The males, however, wielded cruel-looking bladed weapons sheathed on each side of their bodies. The design reminded Kapp of brass knuckles, but with white spikes protruding from the front and a six-inch blade extending from the side. He imagined they would be devastating in close-quarters combat, allowing the wielder to punch and stab with equal efficiency. Despite the constant movement around them, the aliens ignored Kapp entirely. He could not help but feel like a “lower life form that should be avoided.”

A familiar rotting seafood smell hit Kapp as they swam deeper. Looking around, he spotted a Nokken contained inside a cell carved into the canyon wall. The bars were made of the same white material as everything else in this place. The Nokken stared at him, its red eyes piercing through his soul. Without its helmet, its grotesque features were fully visible. It stood rigidly in the cell, not floating, with one claw grasping a bar. Periodically, its claw flexed as if testing the metal, but it could not break through.

Kapp could not help but glare at the monster. So many of his companions had been slain by its kind that a wave of heat and anger washed over him.

Qualia turned, noticing that Kapp had stopped swimming. He floated with clenched fists, glaring at the creature.

The Nokken cocked its head, its voice slithering into Kapp’s mind just as the leader of these invaders had done on the Alpha.

“You should not be here,” it hissed, the words loud but eerily soft. “You have a mission to complete. You should not be here.”

“I did not choose any of this. If it weren’t for monsters like you, I would be peacefully doing my job,” Kapp snapped, his temper flaring. He swam closer to the bars, locking eyes with the Nokken.

“You were to bring your armies, your weapons, your ships. We would take them all. Go. Leave this place. Go home and bring war for us.” Its voice grew more urgent.

“That’s enough!” Qualia shouted.

She touched the tip of her spear to the Nokken’s claw, sending a shockwave through the water. The creature flew backward, slamming against the back wall of the cell with a loud clack. It crumpled to the sandy floor.

“We will kill again. This will only slow us. There will be another messenger,” the Nokken gasped, now addressing Qualia. “This last resort will be destroyed, and we will parade you and your fathers’ corpses on our ships.”

“Until that day, monster, you will rot in this cell!” Qualia roared defiantly.

The Nokken moved with terrifying speed, lunging for the bars. Its helmet extended from its armor, and it began to slam its head against the cage while reaching through the bars, clawing wildly. The cave filled with the deafening clangs of its carapace striking metal and its guttural roars of rage.

“Come, Xanderkapp. We are almost there,” Qualia said, turning away.

Kapp remained frozen, watching the creature’s frenzied attack.

“Nokken angry. We must leave,” Splunk whispered.

“You are right, Splunk. But someday… I will hurt them.”

“Splunk will help!” it chittered happily.

“I’ve had enough of your help today, little friend. You can be an observer,” Kapp said, turning away from the cell.

They approached a naturally raised platform in the cave where a crowd of aliens floated in neat rows, all focused on the front.

At the platform’s center, four aliens worked around the only piece of technology Kapp had seen since leaving his escape pod. It resembled a ship’s wheel with holographic displays of space surrounding it. A male stood at the helm, a piece of white jewelry piercing his top head-fin, from which a foot-long red flag floated upward.

Kapp and Qualia swam to the middle of the platform and hovered just above it. She bowed toward the four aliens, their backs still turned. With a nod from Qualia, Kapp followed suit.

“Lord Azule, I have retrieved the outsider and brought him before you,” she announced, her tone formal and loud enough for all to hear.

“What could have possibly taken so long, daughter?” The orange male with the fin jewelry asked as they all turned to face her.

Azule was even broader than the other males Kapp had seen and taller than the females. He carried two double-bladed knives, each about a foot and a half long, with edges sharp enough to shear through rock.

“He swims like an infant, Lord,” Qualia replied, sounding defensive. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“Well then, you should have tied him up and carried him,” a high-pitched voice interjected.

Kapp turned toward the speaker and immediately disliked him.

Shorter and leaner than the others, he bore no weapons, which made him stand out even more.

Azule raised a hand, silencing him. “Caltuth, I will handle my own daughter. Your wisdom is valued but not necessary.”

Caltuth bowed quickly, though his voice carried an edge of contempt. “I am sorry, Lord. I overstepped.”

Azule ignored him, turning back to Qualia. “Tell me, daughter, is this a lesser being? Has he proved himself worthy of communication?”

Qualia hesitated. “I thought, given the circumstan—”

“Your daughter has brought this outsider to speak with no proof that he is worthy?” Caltuth’s voice rose, addressing the gathered crowd rather than Azule.

Kapp had had enough. “To be clear, I don’t even know where I am. What do I have to do to prove I can speak?”

Azule grinned. “Fight.”

A chorus erupted from the crowd, their voices shaking the cavern.

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

Kapp’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like his odds, but he saw no other choice. “Alright… Doesn’t seem super fair, but who am I fighting?”

“The choice is yours,” Qualia said. “All amongst the Aqualin have proven themselves. If one cannot fight, he is a lesser life form.

Kapp didn’t like where this was going, and was concerned with his future here among such a harsh culture.

“Splunk will help Kapp fight?” he whispered to the little creature on his shoulder, trying to find a way out of this without too much harm. All of the “Aqualin”, as Qualia had called them, were much larger than Kapp. Plus, he was in their element.

“Splunk can’t. Scales hurt teeth.” It actually seemed embarrassed having to admit this.

Kapp realized that right where Splunk had bit him on his neck was where the Aqualin’s raised black scales started.

Caltuth sneered. “Fight or be cast aside. Who do you challenge?”

Kapp smirked. “Well, I guess I’ll take you, short stuff.”

Caltuth let out a light chuckle, shaking his head as if Kapp were too ignorant to understand how things worked. He turned to the gathered Aqualin with an indulgent smile.

“Do you hear this outsider? He challenges me! The Star-Reader!” He gestured broadly, as if inviting the crowd to share in the absurdity. “I have already proven myself in combat and leadership, outsider. That is why I hold my station. I have no need to fight again.”

Kapp smirked. “If one cannot fight, he is a lesser life form… isn’t that right?”

The murmurs from the gathered Aqualin grew louder, eyes turning back to Caltuth. His expression faltered for the briefest moment before his smile returned, tighter this time. The gathered Aqualin murmured, all eyes on Caltuth. His expression hardened. “Fine. I accept this challenge, though it is beneath my station.”

Azule’s grin widened. “Fight!”

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” The crowd roared.

Kapp clenched his fists.

Shit.