The teams were dispatched to Earth where, once inside the atmosphere, they began tracking the signal of the moving corpse.

…

Sarah Leheron walked into her home. It was a little past ten thirty in the morning. Aside from stepping on the mysterious little gadgets (an event that she had almost completely forgotten about), her walk through the park had been uneventful. Just as she walked through the back door, her mother happened to come out into the kitchen from the bathroom.

“Oh, hi honey,” Mary-Jean Leheron said, smiling towards her daughter. “You're back already?”

“Yeah,” Sarah replied simply. “I was just going for a quick walk.”

“Are you and Neil still doing lunch later.”

“Mmm-hmm! Are you about to head off to work?”

“Oh no, I'm working from home today.”

“Oh...” Sarah replied, looking her mom up and down. “Aren't you a little...overdressed for work from home?” Her mother wore her favorite red, long sleeve top, with a black short skirt, nylons, and, of course, a pair of black heels that were so polished they gleamed in the overhead light and sparkled in the rays of the sun.

“Well, I'm still working,” Mary-Jean said in a matter of fact tone. “So, I figure I might as well dress for work. Besides, it's possible that I will have a client or two stop by and of course I'll want to look professional. It's all about keeping appearances, Sarah.”

“Uh...well...” Sarah said, stifling a laugh. “Okay...but, um, while you're keeping appearances...pull your skirt down.”

“Huh?” Mare replied, her hand instinctively reaching behind her. Instead of feeling the fabric of her skirt, she felt the bare skin of her posterior and the soft hem of her panties, which her skirt was tucked inside of. Flushing red, she quickly dug them out and pulled it down. “Don't say anything.”

Sarah stood there with a small smile on her face. This was not, by a long mile, the first wardrobe malfunction her mother had experienced with her and it surely would not be the last. It was mostly thanks to her mom that Sarah had vowed never to wear a skirt, paranoid that she would inherit Mare's clumsiness. In Sarah's humble opinion, her mother had learned a lot about confidence and, in some ways, egotism from her long best friend, Valerie Bradson. Mary-Jean often saw herself as a woman of higher social standing, as she not only supported herself but her daughter without a husband. And not just supported, but thrived quite nicely. She often liked to dress well simply because. However, while she had the elegant clothes, she lacked the grace to really sell the image. Despite loving them, she still occasionally stumbled in heels, and, even worse, was terrible at wearing skirts, despite her insistence to the contrary. It was a surprisingly rare day that Sarah Leheron did not see up her mother's skirt at least once if she was wearing one. And, finally, she had a sensitive stomach, which caused her to burp a lot, often times loudly. The juxtaposition between Mare's perception of herself and her real behavior was usually very humorous, especially to Valerie Bradson.

“I didn't say anything.” Sarah said carefully, still smiling. She knew it would be good to end this interaction now. “I'm gonna go up to my room.”

“Okay,” Mary-Jean replied, brushing at her skirt as if to make sure it really was down now.

…

Upon entering the atmosphere, the new fleet quickly learned one of the more important factors that lead to the destruction of the first teams. Everything here was immense, far bigger than what they had thought. How had this happened? Did the scientists aboard the mothership misinterpret their data? Had they just assumed? It hardly mattered at this point. They still had a mission, to recover the body of the fallen, but still intact, scout from earlier, and so they pressed on. The signal brought them to one of the massive human built structures, which they were able to enter through an open window.

The tension was heavy as the fleet moved inside slowly. Within the Recon Ship, an order was given to relay info to the Commander about the situation, particularly about the scale of lifeforms on the planet. With everything being much larger than previously thought, there was no telling what sort of threat would appear, and they would have to exercise extreme caution.

An alert came through the computer and a red light flashed within the cockpit of the Recon Ship. But before anyone could even comprehend what the message on the screen even said, the front view of the ship was filled with nothing but red. A jolt rocked the crew as they made impact. The ship bounced backward and went into a tailspin. The Fighters, more nimble, were able to, if only barely, maneuver themselves out of the way to avoid collision.

…

Mary-Jean immediately looked down towards her chest, having felt something hard against her left breast, as if somebody had fired a slingshot at her. It hadn't hurt, but...

Something clattered noisily against the tile floor, and her eyes were redirected from her ample cleavage towards something glimmering in the sunlight at her feet.

…

The captain of the Recon Ship slowly stirred in his seat, which he was firmly fastened in. An alarm was buzzing drunkenly, the sound systems clearly damaged. The lights were completely ruined, the flashing beacon from earlier now completely dark, its bulb shattered. He turned his head to see if the rest of the crew had survived the crash. Both of his subordinates, battered and bloodied as they were, seemed largely okay. He opened his mouth to give the order to run diagnostics to find out the extent of the damage to the ship when a heavy quake shook the ship. Instinctively, the captain turned his head upwards. It took him several seconds to realize that the long black things looming over the ship were legs and not towers. Craning his neck up further, he saw a flash of red underneath a black, wavy crown, followed by another wall of red. After that, his eyes made contact with those belonging to the human, as it stared over the large fatty bulbs that jutted from its chest.

The captain had traveled across the vacuum of space, had seen first hand how massive the universe truly was and how ultimately insignificant all life was in the grand scheme of things. He still hadn't felt as tiny and helpless as he did in this moment...

…

At first she thought it was just a coin, a quarter specifically. But, if that was all it was, how had it hit her? She quickly gazed towards the sink and saw she had left the window open. It was possible that somebody was hiding over there and had playfully tossed the coin at her cleavage as a joke. But there was really only one person that she could think of doing that, and she was probably at her flower shop right now. And if it had been Valerie, she wouldn't have been sneaky about it in the first place. Subtlety was not a word in Valerie Bradson's vocabulary.

She bent forward, reaching out a hand to pick up the coin (if that, indeed, was what it was), when something tiny buzzed right in front of her vision...

…

The Fighter ships had been successful in avoiding the massive cleavage (they noted that this human appeared to have larger ones than the specimen original targeted by thee motehrship), but only barely. Because of the sheer size of the human, they were still uncomfortably close to it. Some had flown upwards to avoid the large mountains, and when the body began to lean forward they immediately had to swerve again. One ship suddenly found the wind harshly blowing against it and lost control. The tiny vessel was forced upwards and was quickly swallowed up by the massive vacuum that was one of the nostrils. Hairs, the size of small trees, smashed against the ship, shattering the windshield and shearing off the wings. The hellish ride came to an end, not in a fiery explosion, but a wet one, with slime filling every crevice of the cockpit, shorting out the electrical components and covering the pilot with a thick layer of goop.

The other Fighters that had traveled this way were suddenly faced with the eye of the giant, which turned towards the tiny ships as they passed it. The human recoiled, its body straightening, and suddenly the massive mountains of flesh came roaring back upwards. They collided against the puny ships with such force that, despite their inherit softness, they exploded in small burst of flame. A couple of ships did not hit the flesh directly but instead found themselves between the mountains and were smashed when they came together.

…

Gnats, Mary-Jean thought, an irrational anger welling up in her instantly.

It was a very well known fact to all that knew her that Mary-Jean Leheron hated bugs. She was not afraid of them, she just truly HATED them with a fiery passion. This extended to all insects and crawling creatures, even the ones that most people had little problem with, like ladybugs and butterflies. It didn't matter, all of them ended in a flattened pulp if they got too close to Mary-Jean. She wouldn't even think twice about. She didn't care how beautiful or how beneficial they may be to the planet at large, if they approached her, they were getting squished. Period. No one really knew the origin of this extreme hatred. Sarah, who had grown up observing such behavior, had once asked Valerie if she had any insight to this bizarre behavior, but the florist had merely shrugged. Mare had always been like that, she'd said, citing instances in college where Mare had gone on a stomping rampage, in complete view of the public, trying to crush some hapless bumblebee that had gotten too close to her. Anytime Val had asked about it, the answer she had merely gotten was bugs were disgusting.

And that feeling of disgust washed over her now, as she focused her eyes to catch the tiny bugs, the strange coin dropped from her consciousness as quickly as it came into it.

“God damn it!” She muttered to herself. “They must have gotten through the damn window.”

Her eyes scanned the air before her, searching for any signs of little dots buzzing around. If it were Valerie the tiny things would probably have a fair chance of escaping, but Mary-Jean's vision was sharper, especially when it came to creepy crawlies to crush.

Faintly, a small dot came into her vision and her right hand instinctively swatted at it.

…

Many pilots of the Fighter fleet, disoriented from all the confusion, pulled upward to avoid a nosedive straight into the ground. As they ascended, several of them tried to make contact with the Recon Ship they had been assigned to protect. But there was no answer. Finally, after some chatter, it was agreed to relay the situation back to the mothership. However, they did not get the chance, as the hand sliced through the air. It only managed to hit one of the Fighters, effectively wiping it from existence in a mere moment. The rest of the ships found themselves losing all control as the displaced air of the limb's passage ripped through them, causing many to plummet towards the ground.

…

As soon as she swatted, Mary-Jean saw that there were more. She didn't know if she had actually hit any of them, but she saw their little bodies react to her swing, causing them to retreat downwards. This made her more angry. She did not want any of them flying underneath her skirt and possibly getting into places they shouldn't. Realizing that merely swatting at them wouldn't do the trick, she leaned down and raised both her hands, meaning to clap them together to squish as many of them as she could. It'd get juice all over her hands, but she was beyond caring about that. She wasn't always afraid to her hands a little dirty.

But before she could enact such a move, an itch suddenly manifested within her nostrils. It grew with such incredible speed that the big sneeze happened before she even fully realized the sensation was occurring.

…

There was, of course, weather back on their home planet. There was rain and thunderstorms, and even floods and tornadoes. But none of those things that they had experienced back home was anything like this. A powerful gust of wind shot their already plummeting ships further down towards the ground, but also launched a storm of water droplets that were the size of large boulders. They were suddenly like ants in a hurricane. Either the ships were hit with a massive drop of saliva, which would immediately rip apart the ship much like a real boulder, or they were hit but flying gobs of mucus which splattered against their vessels, shorting out power and removing all visibility. Some of them, knowing that their ship were lost, ejected.

Far down below, the forgotten Recon Ship was hit with the briefest, but most powerful downpour its riders had ever experienced. The bigger ship was not immediately pulverized by the droplets, but the force of their impact dented its walls, forcing some of the liquid inside, casing sparks for fly of the consoles around them. Mucus coated what was left of the windshield.

The captain cried out for someone to activate the emergency beacon, which would instantly alert the mothership that they were in trouble. Before any of his co-pilots could even begin to see if such a move was possible after the partial flooding of their ship, a huge jolt rocked the entire ship. The captain could actually feel the ship lift off the ground for a brief moment before harshly landing back down. He gazed upward and, through a small gap in the slime covering the windshield, he saw the colossal figure above them with one of its tower like legs raised.

What followed next was darkness.

…

“Damn it!” Mary-Jean cursed under her breath.

The sneeze had made her lose them. Why did they have to be so damn small? Still, they had been about knee high when she had been about to swat them. If they were still going down towards the ground, perhaps aided by her sneeze, then they were actually in a much better position.

Straightening, Mary-Jean lifted her foot and stamped down with such force that dishes rattled in the cupboards around her. Then, she raised it again and brought it back down.

CRUNCH!

Suddenly, she remembered the strange disc she had seen on the floor.

Lifting her high heel up, revealed nothing. She brought it back up behind her and saw the warped and mangled remains of whatever it had been stuck firmly to the bottom of her shoe. The stomp had been so hard that several bits of the odd thing were now wedged in the treads of her high heel. Sighing in exasperation, she reached out a hand and opened a drawer, pulling out a pen, using that to scrape the broken mess off her shoe. There was no sense in even trying to identify what it had been anymore, it was nothing but fragments now and she honestly found herself not even really caring. Bugs always put her in a sour mood. She just wanted this mess cleaned up so she could close the window and move on with her day.

Once the bottom of her shoe had been cleaned off, she walked to the sink and closed the window before ripping off a piece of paper towel from the roll. Then, she walked back to the broken mess and dropped down onto her hands and knees.

…

The chairs of the Fighter ships were designed to gently bring them to solid ground so that they could activate their tracking beacons so the mothership could send rescue teams. However, doing so was immediately forgotten, for the tiny pilots could not stand for more than a second as the massive being walked to and fro, its footfalls creating a series of powerful quakes that shook them to the very bone.

Finally, the human came to a stop above them, giving them a small reprieve before it began to lower itself down. The tiny pilots watched, transfixed at something so large. Suddenly, they were faced with the mountains of fatty flesh. They fell upon the pilots, smooshing them with their full weight as they were pressed firmly against the ground. Those that weren't immediately squished, found their helmets shattering, letting in the poisonous air of the planet into their lungs. Or at least it would have let the air into their lungs, if the press of the mountains had allowed that in the first place...

…

Mary-Jean wiped up both the bits of metal and small traces of saliva and mucus from her sneeze off the floor. Mixed in with all that, she thought she could see small little bugs, meaning she had gotten them after all. When the floor was cleaned, she stood back up and wadded the ball tightly in her fist, squeezing it hard to make sure that whatever could have still been living in it was no longer so. Then, she tossed the wad into the trashcan. After that was done, she reached up and began to readjust the straps of her bra, which had been jostled slight after dropping to the ground and her breasts pressed against the floor. She had already practically mooned her daughter this morning and she didn't need The Girls getting free and saying hello to anyone present (though, as Val would have been quick to point out, it wouldn't have been the first time).

Once the bra was readjusted, she turned and walked out of the kitchen to head to her home office. She had calls to make, perhaps one to a certain florist to see what she was doing later that day...