It was in the 3rd stage of the interstellar war that the Terrans had been cornered by the 3 galactic empires and was losing ground by the minute, with casualties running sky high. Out gunned and outnumbered, they turned to the brightest minds of Earth’s scientists.
In a stroke of either ingenuity or utter desperation, the scientists were able to discover a method of cloaking technology that gave ships a sensor signature no different than the hundreds of random space glitches popping up and then disappearing on the scanners. With this technology, a ship could mask itself as a space glitch common to these few million lightyears, penetrate the enemy’s barricade and start life anew.
The galactic empires were closing in. Soon, an infinite amount of blimps formed a dyson sphere to the radius of Jupiter’s orbit. Trillions of alien ships bordering the solar system, obliterating the meager defenses Earth had put up.
The prototype was ready, installed on a blockade runner loaded to the boot with every form of diversity Earth had to offer – it was a Noah’s Ark, the final cry of a defeated civilization, it was The Glitch.
Hidden among the warships and disguised as a support barge, The Glitch made away from Earth’s orbit, trying its best to emulate the lumbering, panicked movements of support barges left and right while fending off the fire of enemy fighters.
The enemy was closing in, the sky was a flurry of invisible laser beams, the invaders blocked out the stars and had cut off the sun, plunging Planet Earth into a state of perpetual freezing. A powerful blast erupted from the alien flagship, hit the pale blue dot, and the atmosphere blew up. For those still on the planet, it was a second of welcoming warmth followed by complete atomization.
For mankind to persevere, it was now or never. The Glitch weaved through the rain of projectiles, sustaining heavy losses and only kept intact by the best shield technology mankind had to offer, until finally the Glitch cloak was ready. It was charged, the glitch was crumbling. It was activated, and The Glitch entered glitch space.
“Hello. How nice of you to join us.”
Across the scanners were hundreds of strange structures, visual manifestations of unthinkable technology floating among the imperial fleets, undetected. Technology? No, how could these things be technology? And yet the greeting was there, and the voice seemed human, but it didn’t come through any of the shipboard speakers, no, it was just there.
The last Terran ship disappeared, their cries of agony sounded through the comms for half a second until it was silenced.
“Welcome to the show.”
The strange structures moved. It wasn’t acceleration, there were no reaction exhaust, there was no traction, no change of attitude, no rhyme nor reason, but the structures did move. Right into an alien ship, smashing it to smithereens. But it didn’t stop, it didn’t even lose speed from the impact. In fact, after the first few alien casualties, the structures picked up the pace, rushing through the area at ridiculous speeds and patterns, sometimes punching through thousands, and soon, millions of alien ships per second.
It was obvious the panic of the invaders, a general order to retreat might have been sounded since the imperial ships were are desperately pointing as many thrusters at Sol as possible.
No amount of warp would spare the alien fleet, anywhere they went the strange structures had them beat, allowing the alien ships to simply smash into the structures and explode. Needless to say, none of the alien’s weapons had any effect.
Aboard The Glitch, report of the new utter devastation first ushered the deep hatred into retributive pleasure, but then quickly back into fear, as scraps from the alien vessels smacked into the hull, except the pieces that were going fast enough to damage The Glitch, those simply halted in their tracks. The structures were so horrifyingly powerful, and the way they stepped on an already formidable alien vessel like it was an ant to a nuclear explosion, so cold, so ruthless, so inhumane.
The structures emitted some kind of something at the space waste, and the wreckages of both parties dissolved away like there was nothing there in the first place. As the fog of war cleared, they could make out readings of Earth being somehow being livable again.
The captain, grief stricken and shocked by the sudden turn of events, was barely able to nudge the communications officer into hailing these… things. The call went through.
The captain, who had lost all sense of formality, gasped: “What… Who… are you?”
The structures did not answer. Instead, they moved into view of every window and sensor, and rotated, until all of The Glitch could distinguish their collective triangular silhouette.