Game Party 1

## The Unterseeboot Conspiracy (OW-182-A)

The hatchling haifisch writhes in agony as I lower her into the tub of Earthen salt water, thrashing and spilling water with her small fins. I pick her up instantly and set her back into a container filled halfway with the fresh water of OW-182-A’s dark aquifer. The hatchling relaxes once more as I stroke her placoid scales, and springing into action, she begins to dexterously swim around the container, weaving and disappearing behind the large *Panacea Research Facility* logo printed on the front.

Taking off my protective gloves, I watch for a while before going to the tinted observatory window of my lab. The corner camera follows every movement. It is silent in here, with only my breathing, the occasional splash, and the evanescent hum of machinery cutting through. Crater OW-182 looks immense from this spot. Its valley disappears far below under the floras that cover every crag and crevice, and its walls rise into the clouds that hover over its isolated little ecosystem.

An urgent knock at the door draws my attention, and before I can even turn around they call out, “Hurry up Violet! Get over here now!” More knocking. It’s Gyra, jumping from one foot to the other in anxious impatience. I look at her in confusion. It’s her day off today and she *never* shows up on her day off. Something has happened.

   “Start night protocol,” I tell the caretaker android as I unlock the door and slide out into the hallway. Gyra grabs my hand and drags me away. “What’s happening?” I ask her as I adjust to her pace. Looking around nervously, she leans in close and whispers, “Commotion at the Gate. They say it is the unterseeboot.” I stifle my gasp and, avoiding an EXOGEN security detail, hurry us along.

Gyra leads me towards a side entrance that should not be operational, and an echoing drumming sound grows louder the closer we get. The Specimen Department. The sound becomes clear as we pass by, its doors wide open. Adult unterseeboot slap against their cages in an unidentifiable rhythm but make no other sounds. They stop suddenly as they notice Gyra. I make eye contact with one and see her irises flow from blood-red to a cool purple but they change back almost immediately, and for the briefest moment I see Gyra signal to them with the slightest movement of her hand and a small grunt from the back of her throat. After we pass, the hallway is once again filled with the ringing of unbreakable metal.

We stand in an alcove above the Gate, looking into the jagged tunnel that leads into the heart of the cavern system. The boiling dark waters of OW-182-A crash loudly through the center, and workers, guided only by dim embedded lights, walk precariously on the slick side ledges and metal bridges. The unmistakable twirling of drills and augers rebounds from the deepest sections all the way to our ears while we sit in waiting.

Security units are lined up, rifles raised, and are peering into the surrounding darkness. The workers do not even give them a second glance as they carry baskets filled with Dr. Dimir’s precious little glowing, life-saving Gunge flower to the drop off point. Production was up 230% since that EXOGEN ship dropped off the Amara Calussas. The bastards work them to death, but they just accept it. Luckily for them unterseeboot attacks have not occurred recently. In fact, no one has seen them in 20 shift cycles. It’s as if they have disappeared, embedded themselves deep within the caverns.

The security units cry out as shadows are suddenly spit out from a cave passage hidden high above and land with an echoing thud on the stone platform in front. The flashlights on their rifles illuminate three figures: a single towering android flanked by an unterseeboot on either side. The unterseeboot are adorned with their typical garb, the loose-fitting interlinked metal, and are armed with their long sickle-like rods used for heads and plants alike.

I remember seeing this sect of haifisch for the first time, how surprised I was by their unsophistication, their animalistic behavior, their lack of thumbs and digits. There are no great cities here that peak over the crater. Only caverns that we still cannot access. Even so, they have shown themselves to be great warriors, interconnected with their landscape in ways the other sects could not fathom. But today even they look normal in comparison to the android.

It towers far above its companions and stands perfectly still. Its eyes glow blue in stark contrast to the red slits that hover on either side, and its dress is surprisingly sophisticated, as if it is a diplomat. I hear Gyra mutter in disbelief as she registers the impeccable suit that covers the android’s fake flesh and wire.

The android takes a single step forward. The security guards tighten their grip on their triggers, but they hesitate. Stamped on its hand is the EXOGEN logo and destroying EXOGEN property is the last thing they want to do.

Its mouth lights up as it speaks in a monotone voice. “I am Azul. I speak on behalf of the unterseeboot, as you call them. They wish to speak with your leader,” the android says. Must be a war model. None of the voice updates. The guards look at one another, and then one picks up his receiver and talks urgently into it.

The two sides stare at one another for a long time in an uncomfortable silence, the rushing of the black water and the steps of Amara Calssusas unable to break their concentration. Eventually an entourage shuffles towards the Gate and as they arrive it begins to open. At the group’s center moves a ball of light that shines bright pastel colors along the walls of the cave, and from it emanates the bass of a guitar-heavy anthem. When the ball passes the gate, the entourage parts.

We all stare at it for a time until the top pops open and rests on the ground, releasing the full fury of the song. From our spot I catch a section of lyrics: “Nail me to my car and I’ll tell you who you are.” The anthem cuts off abruptly as a tall woman in a pristine lab coat and bright orange visor steps out. A large, deep scar crawls from beneath her coat up to the side of her face. Dr. Dimir. To think I ever respected this money-hungry pig.

She glances around before taking a few steps forward and gives off a little laugh. “Well what do we have here? The traitor?” she says. The security guards visibly get nervous as she walks closer and closer to the three figures. The android repeats itself in response. “I am Azul. I speak on behalf of the unterseeboot, as you call them. They wish to speak with your leader,” he says to which she replies, “You have her.”

It pauses for a moment, then continues, “The unterseeboot require a skilled medic and hydrologist from the Panacea Research Facility. It is an urgent request. They offer these and more in return,” and a large basket floats down from the ceiling of the cavern, revealing the motherload of softly glowing Gunge. Dr. Dimir chuckles a little and signaling to her guards says, “Don’t waste my time.”

A cacophony of gun shots emerges from all directions. Ducking, the unterseeboot dive into the boiling black rapids. The android Azul stands there, sparks flying at bullet impact and its clothes in tatters, before it turns around and jumps in as well. The guards shout in disbelief as Azul hovers in place but then the unterseeboot’s fin underneath emerges from the depths, and on her back, the android disappears into the depths of the caverns.

Gyra and I are already halfway back to the lab before the guards even react. I frantically grab my water testing kit while she gathers her scattered medical supplies. I log into my terminal, quickly put the cameras on a loop, and clear out our calendars so no one is expecting us. We rush back the way we came and follow the side path beyond the Gate. It winds for a while but eventually feeds into the main tunnel. As we exit, I catch a faint glint of metal far behind us but ignore it in the deceptive darkness.

The boiling ravine of aquifer water dips below the rock, widening the walkable area of the tunnel, and the chipped stone walls radiate a suffocating humidity that drips down the thin layer of soft moss. It is only us and the Amara Calussas this far down. They work relentlessly at the sides in the constant whirl of their drills, prying rock away to find the patches of treasure hidden beneath.

I feel Her shudder and cry with each stone that is chipped and pulverized and each plant that is plucked from its alcove. It has gotten worse recently, nearly all the time now, but they do not stop. The Amara Calussas stare at us as we walk deeper into the heart of the tunnel. The same burgundy face under matching assigned uniforms, one after another, tracking our progression. The stone gets warmer, and the lights become dimmer.

A sudden shudder bursts from underneath. Pebbles fall from above, and its rumble grows so violent that I lose my balance and fall to the ground on my back. I expect to hit hard stone but instead a searing pain rips across my back. My vision turns white, and I scream out, paralyzed by the pain.

I feel someone pull me away by my arm and place me on my stomach. Everything is dark, my vision swims, and my muscles twitch uncontrollably. I hear someone muttering under their breath, “bad burn, bad bad water burn,” and the sound of rummaging in a plastic case. The pain doesn’t fade, and I struggle to breathe. Other voices. A woman laughing condescendingly and another speaking sternly in time with the march of their steel-toed boots.

Forceful hands roll my shirt up, and a cool liquid is sprayed all over. It soothes at first, relaxing me, but then it begins to burn until it is a torrent of pain and heat. My head is jerked up, and a cloth is stuffed in my mouth. It tastes bitter and I try to spit it out, but they hold it in forcefully. The throbbing in my head worsens and my eyes water as I edge towards unconsciousness, but then the stinging begins to fade and the cave becomes clear once more.

Joining Gyra is an Amara Calussa covered in mechanical oil and soot, holding some type of medical spray, and female space marine armed to the teeth with ammunition and an large assault rifle, an MK-280 from the looks of it. They are bickering as I sit up, groaning from the effort.

“What were you thinking bringing her down here?” the marine says. “Nevermind. Don’t bother. You clearly were not thinking.” She comes towards me and wrenches me back up the tunnel by my arm in an iron grip. “Do not struggle,” she says. A name is indented on her tag: Riya Bhatia. I am pulled for a few moments before a rock clanks off of the back of her armor, and she violently twists around, MK-280 raised at the Amara Calussa.

“How dare y—,” Riya starts but stops at the sight of the human clone, who has a single finger raised to her lips, a pistol poised in her right hand, and a frantic gaze on the surrounding catacombs. She lets go of me and places both hands on her MK-280, scanning the walls back and forth. I run over to Gyra, and as I reach her I hear it.

A sharp knife slicing through paper. A scalpel cutting through skin. It is a low, constant noise, amplified by the tunnels. Four Amara Calussas further up the tunnel drop their drills and begin to run. The sound grows briefly as it passes by, grinding against smooth stone, and shadows fly out of three separate holes at a tremendous speed, ricochet off the path, and glide through another tunnel out of sight. The four Amara Calussas are gone.

The sound of friction slowly fades away, but before we can move it does a u-turn and grows louder and louder. “ON ME,” I hear Riya yell out, and we all huddle in the center of the tunnel. They are on us before we can even get in position, running through our group like bowling balls striking pins.

One from behind sends me and Gyra tumbling to the side. I see Riya and the Amara Calussa further up the incline staring down a group of three unterseeboot. Behind the group a large unterseeboot stands facing us, facing Gyra, moving its fins and emitting an imperceptible mewl. I notice Gyra’s eyes widening, and she begins to translate for us. She yells out, “Don’t shoot! Put down your weapons. They don’t mean us harm… they need us.”

Riya ignores her and the Amara Calussa looks at Gyra like she is crazy before they shoot at the closest unterseeboot. The creature’s right pectoral fin is shredded instantly, and its metal sickle clatters to the floor. The other two flank in a fury and, splaying the ripples of their gills, seize both of them. One throws the Amara Calussa into the tunnel wall, knocking her out cold, while the other repeatedly headbuts Riya into a coma, her MK-280 sliding onto the ground.

Gyra and I stand and approach the large unterseeboot, but one that is hidden seizes me from behind and stuffs my nose with a sickly sweet incense. It fills my airways, suffocating me, knocking out the dim lights of the cavern.

I awake on a surface so soft that it feels like I am floating in a dream. The slowly undulating fibrous grass that surrounds me conforms to my entire body, and I watch the rippling blue and green waves that cross the ceiling. I remember where I am and jolt up with a start but calm down the instant I see Gyra sitting among the unterseeboot, conversing with ease and concern.

We are on a moss-like island in the center of two dark streams. It must be where the aquifer water disappears to. It rushes out in a waterfall at one end, steam rising where it crashes, and moves at a leisurely pace as it passes by. A faint green emanates from the water due to a glowing moss beneath, and a cool breeze enters from one tunnel and exits into another.

    It is hauntingly beautiful, but something is wrong. Hundreds of unterseeboot are huddled together in the island’s center, as if scared of the water that surrounds them, of the life source that nourishes them. They look shriveled and sickly, many of them twitching in the grass and unable to move, with hatchlings crying against their lifeless bodies.

“You must test the water,” someone says behind me. I turn around and see the towering EXOGEN android Azul, still in a tattered suit. “Your equipment is by the shore. You must test the water,” it says. “Hurry.”

I rush towards my equipment, parting the softly swaying grass with my body. As I run I see two forms lying flat in the distance, the Amara Calussa and Riya, but they are not asleep. They are tearing at the fibrous grasses that bound them, but when they see the sickly unterseeboot, they stop their struggle.

At the shore I pull out my field equipment and tear open the package of a sanitized water strip, one that I handmade for poison and contamination. Avoiding the splash of the scalding hot water, I dip the strip in briefly and take it out. Removing the excess droplets, I place it in the insertion module and start the analysis. A bright timer appears on the screen.

Gyra comes over to watch, and as she does, the unterseeboot break out into some type of chant, or song. It starts with an aged unterseeboot at their center and spreads throughout, the sounds of their movements and grunts overlapping with one another until the entire cavern is filled with their symphony. Gyra attempts to translate:

> *Sweet Mother,*
>
>
> *Our [benevolent] Mother,*
>
>
> *We heed Your siren call,*
>
>
> *Your cries so beautiful,*
>
>
> *Your longing so great,*
>
>
>
> *They nurture the very [fabric] of our being.*
>
>

The timer on the field analyzer blinks that it is done, and then the entire screen turns a dark red with multiple warnings springing up in the interface. More appear, taking up the majority of the screen, and the machine begins to blare, “Caution. Caution. Caution.” I worriedly look at Gyra, and when our eyes meet, a siren reaches the cavern from some far off tunnel. And then the drilling begins. An otherworldly and monstrous tearing shakes the sloping stone walls, and a militaristic chanting of female voices intermingles with the rising symphony of the unterseeboot.

I hear the Amara Calussa gasp and say, “She has brought out the excavator… but why?”

As the singing and drilling crash into my ears, I realize what has been done to the unterseeboot, something that we were never supposed to find out, and I sprint into action.

**To be continued in gameplay…**