Beyond Kuiper: The Galactic Star Alliance

by Matthew Medney

  Maruk’s annoyance receded. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. By the way…” He eye-motioned a blue orb to a different game slot where it formed an array of fourteen that surrounded Kruk’s eleven pieces in a web. “…COPEK!10”

  “Rooka!!” Kruk buried his face. “What’s that, my 17th loss? Never should have taught you how to play. Guess those two brains count for something.”

  “They do. You owe me a drink.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Want...”

  KU-WAAAKA! KU-WAAAKA! KU-WAAAKA!

  In training the alarm sounded like a Wavoon11 roar, a cry that could paralyze some species. Now, in their first real emergency, it sounded as if the creature’s beak had engulfed the entire station.

  The lounge light shifted from warm orange to strobing green. An urgent, but less piercing voice came through the speakers: “Proximity breach. Emergency quarantine protocol now in effect. All Guardians report to stations.”

  A momentary pause, and everyone leapt to their feet, claws, paws, and tentacles. Running, slithering, sliding, gliding, the crewmembers raced for their posts on the bridge, in the fighter bays, or the artillery room.

  Speed being essential, Maruk gave himself an extra set of limbs. His uniform’s field generators hummed to life, optimizing his unique physiology. “Bored, huh? Rooka you!”

  Making do with the body he had, Kruk sprinted in the direction of the bridge sliptube12 a few corridors away. “What could it be? Ship veered off a transit lane? Pirates?”

  The hangar sliptube close at hand, Maruk dove in. “No idea. See you soon.”

  Maruk fell a bit before the powerful, magnetic stream grabbed and propelled him. Accelerating rapidly, he twisted and curved through the monitoring station’s infrastructure. Carved into an asteroid, dark, rocky caves of nothingness gave way to an array of glistening lights illuminating walkways, cranes, and equipment. Passing above Outpost Hangar B, Maruk could see suppressor fighters13 launching amid a flurry of activity.

  He zipped past a node, two more Guardians falling in behind him. All three were shortly ejected into Hangar A.

  Using the momentum to leap into his fighter cockpit, Maruk smirked. “Let’s go ARTOO!”

  With an elegance suited for a being destined to fly, he launched into the asteroid field.

  “Kruk, you make it to the bridge yet?” Maruk barked into his comm.

  “Almost there. Stay sharp. I’m here when you need me.”

  “Copy that, Blue Leader.”

  “SHUT UP!”

  “Luke… out.”

  Kruk had just reached the last corridor. The blast doors slid open, revealing a hexagonal space of beautiful translucent blues and purples.

  “That show Maruk made me watch, Star Trek, got it so wrong.”

  Quarantine Monitoring Station 17’s command center was filled with morphic crystal panes, all flowing with real-time readouts, energy levels, sensor data, comms, and more. Several dozen crew were already in place coordinating defenses, communicating with other stations, monitoring Earth, or tracking the proximity breach.

  Kruk knew their stoic Duma14 captain from his father’s work in the Echo Quadrant. Paradon, in full form, stood at his central dais scanning pertinent data on his holographic array, barking orders in two directions.

  “…Third, we all know there’s a breach. Turn that infernal alarm off! My synapses are firing like a gagaric snow buffalo15 from Sentron.”

  With still-arriving crew only adding to the chaos, Kruk ran to his station, monitoring the extrasolar probes. Sensing him, the holo-emitter and interface spools generated a small system map curated specifically for Kruk’s use, marking major GSA installations in the Sea of Rocks, or, as the humans called it, the Kuiper Belt.

  “Plot current coordinates of the 5 ESPs beyond the jamming field.”

  At Kruk’s command, in a spectacular display of engineering; codes and calculations streamed across the crystal-encased screens. Each Earth probe having launched long ago, the holomap had to zoom beyond the system perimeter to encompass the five flashing beacons.

  Paradon barked, “Mapping, update.”

  Mapping Paraguardian16 Lutraal answered. “Done, sir. Readouts now updated to include three possible intruders. I must caution that degraded signals from intruders, designated One and Two, decreases position accuracy by 0.0017%.”

  The captain frowned. “They’re beyond our systematic scanning range. How did we spot them?”

  Defense Paraguardian Aroxia turned an eye from her station. “We got lucky, sir. They tripped a flowspace buoy. Current telemetry puts them at 1,800 endons with an inclination of 32° relative to system center. If that course doesn’t deviate, they’ll pass within 17 endons of the jamming field in under 6 nolaprikes.”

  The room quieted. With a sweep of Paradon’s hand, the space above his dais dimmed into a discrete pocket of darkness. Additional morphic panes grew down from the ceiling, generating a larger version of Kruk’s system holomap. This shared tactical projection depicted not only the GSA’s 19 quarantine monitoring stations, but the 3,278 jamming field generators distributed among Nova System’s 15 planets, 197 moons, and 2.6 million Class-V or larger asteroids.

  “Not good. Whether they realize or not, those ships are dangerously close to interfering with a massive, secret GSA operation. Any comm transmissions?”

  Communications PG Aaroolu responded. “Not a whisper, sir.”

  “Identify them dammit!”

  Propulsion PG Du’olook spoke next. “Three intruders now confirmed, possibly stealth class.” Three wiry tentacles adjusted controls, while a gesture from his fourth replaced the tactical map with the faint, fragmented image of a hull. “More specifically, Dillinger-haist17, probably modded. The drive signatures are weak, well shielded, especially for flowspace18. That would exclude any legal cargo vessels.”

  “Why not head straight for system center,? This scenic route is precarious,” Paradon mused. “Deploy full countermeasures and netting...”

  Aroxia interrupted. “Sir, that would risk alerting the humans to our presence. Unless the intruders drop out of flowspace, we can’t stop them anyway, so it might be worth waiting.”

  Paradon glared. “I’m well aware why we’re here. Deploy full countermeasures and netting protocol.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kruk was happy to hear Maruk’s check-in come over the speakers. “Captain, Oga leader. Team is nearing position. Four nolaprikes until intercept.”

  “Copy that, Oga Team.”

  The GSA spent enormous resources on the jamming shields that kept quarantined systems hidden, but they also knew, sooner or later, someone would happen upon one. It was a scenario they drilled to death, but after a hundred turns of nothing throughout the Nova Station, this was the first time it actually occurred.

  The reality, as exhilarating as it was frightening, Kruk felt alive. Tactical map ever-shifting, the scant nolaprikes19 seemed to stretch toward eternity. But then, three neon pink and blue holoflashes indicated that the intruders had dipped from flowspace, then immediately dropped back in with a new course vector.

  “Intruders now curving for system entry near QMS 6 and generator 0512.” Aroxia’s tone grew dour. “It seems they knew we were here.”

  How? An accident Kruk understood, but this didn’t add up. Only signals to and from the Earth probes were unblocked. Protocol prohibited interference in the quarantined species’ development.

  GSA transmissions were easily shielded from primitive Earth-tech, but… what about the other way around? Picking up the faint ESP signals from settled space would be impossible. Wouldn’t it? If not, then who? One answer came to mind, but they were history, dead, gone.

  Kruk wanted the stray thought to pass, but it seized him—and it never hurt to check.

  “Plot intruders’ previous trajectory. Project 2 nolaprikes.”

  A green line on his holomap angled toward the system edge, passed it, then nearly intersected with ESP 4 at an estimated perigee distance of
just 115 rudons20.

  His nagging worry turned to fear; Kruk rushed to the captain’s dais. “Sir, I don’t think they knew we were here. They were tracking a human probe.”

  Paradon glowered, but didn’t dismiss the idea. “From deep space? How? Those signals are so weak, we can barely monitor them.”

  “I don’t know Sir, but on their way in, they came so close to ESP 4, it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

  Maruk chimed over the comm. “40 duprikes21 to intercept.”

  PG Aroxia nearly spoke over him. “Sir, Intruder 1 has opened a patch and dipped out of flowspace. It’s now dropping toward the system plane.”

  “Warn QMS 6 they’ll be in attack range soon.”

  “Aye… Sir, they’re deploying weapons. I count 4 rainstar 22signatures.”

  Paradon kept cool. “Whoever it is has some impressive firepower. The target?”

  “Generator 0512.”

  “Return fire—with prejudice. We can lose a generator. Our priority is capturing that ship.”

  Updates flew in from all stations:

  “Missiles fired.”

  “Hit! Took out two rainstars.”

  “Generator 0512 destroyed!”

  “QMS 6 firing all weapons. Intruder 1 taking evasive action. Miss—miss—miss—I’ve never seen anything maneuver so… wait! Confirmed hit. Intruder 1’s flowspace drive is disabled.”

  “Team Or’en moving in to apply netting field.” Aroxia’s other eyes monitoring live feeds from the fighters, she turned one to the captain. “They’ll have a flowspace netting field locked in around the disabled ship in a nolaprike, sir.”

  “One down. What are the other two up to?”

  The highly proficient Aroxia was downright puzzled. “Sir, Intruder 2 and 3 have been using an overlapping flight pattern. Now they’ve converged, as if on top of each other.”

  Maruk, far from the tense noise of the bridge, enjoyed leading his team through several close-pass maneuvers around the many asteroids. Time short, they had to hard-burn through the belt. Passing team Or’en, he glimpsed them knitting their streams around Intruder 1.

  It would be his turn, soon enough. “Mapping, confirm we’re approaching field-collision.”

  Lutraal sounded uncharacteristically stressed. “Confirm you are 2 rudons from field, Oga leader, and target will impact in 3...2...1.....”

  A crackling covered the final syllable. The stars shimmered against the flowing space near the patch event. Like a whale rising from ocean depths, a ship emerged. No sooner did it appear than a dazzling pulse of light blinded him. When it dissipated, all that remained of the ship were tiny, glittering motes reflecting a pale, distant sun.

  “Oga Leader confirming Intruder 2 destroyed on exit from flowspace.”

  Back on the bridge, the remaining blip, designated Intruder 3, blinked upon reaching the field… then, impossibly, moved through it. Heart sinking, Kruk was increasingly convinced he knew what was coming but couldn’t bring himself to say so.

  The captain’s quad-core23 vocal cords bellowed. “How the Rooka?! All right, Du Nola Ree, initiate Darkness protocol24. Deploy Voidwhisperers25.”

  Everyone stunned by the name, Paradon pounded his fist, cracking a crystal frame. “Do I have to repeat myself? Initiate order, Du Nola Ree!”

  A chill, colder than the Titan’s Ridge, swept the bridge. All those with eyelids blinked, but then all obeyed.

  The shocking presence of Voidwhisperers was something else that didn’t make sense to Kruk. Nova system couldn’t violate the Sea of Rocks protocol if it wanted. Why would the galaxy’s deadliest troops be anywhere near here?

  Not only that, the disgraced program was officially dismantled in the aftermath of the Saaryki War. The rumors that the GSA still used them in the deepest parts of space were apparently true. It certainly explained why Kruk had to go through so many background checks.

  They were almost mythical. Sometimes called the Whisper of Death, Voidwhisperers utilized high-level stealth-tech with no transponders or drive-signature at all—or so Kruk’s father claimed. One of the GSA founding species, named the Valkon, supposedly helmed the majority of the Voidwhisperers. Kruk didn’t even know there were any in this quarantine program. The lore varied wildly; rumors had it they never spoke, and only communicated via quantum entangled neural interfaces.

  In any case, Vdubs had one purpose, to make things disappear. Whether Intruder 3 reached Earth or not, its crew was thoroughly, as the humans said, screwed.

  “How did that ship get through? I need answers!” Captain Paradon’s voice ripped Kruk out of his tangenting thoughts and back to reality.

  An obvious question, but it left the crew flummoxed. The silence stretched dangerously until the usually withdrawn Duraguardian26, Entok, spoke. “Sir, if I may, Intruder 2 opened a patch27 directly on the field, yet debris analysis suggests it wasn’t destroyed by a reactor containment failure.”

  “We’ve verified that the field was fully functional?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Then, what did destroy it, Entok? Give me a best guess.”

  The DG became hesitant, questioning his conclusions as he voiced them. “Perhaps, an unknown device allowed the patch to punch a hole in the field at the exact moment Intruder 3 passed through in flowspace. The energy produced could have triggered the destruction of Intruder 2. Obviously, a suicide maneuver like that would require an extensive understanding of field-dampening tech, antimatter manipulation, and some absurdly good flying.”

  Paradon’s spikes twitched. “Let’s not admire our enemy too much, Entok.”

  “Of course, Sir. Sorry, sir.”

  Aroxia interjected. “Netted ship fully disabled. Flowspace and sublight engines all offline.”

  “Some good news, at least. Let’s bring it in. Vdub status?”

  “Passing Jupiter. Closing—but they’ll be unable to engage until the remaining Intruder 3 drops from flowspace.”

  At least Kruk knew some major help was on its way. Any crew outside the command loop would be bracing for an imminent attack but Aroxia’s next outburst made him think ignorance might be better.

  “SIR!!!! 22 additional flowspace signatures have appeared in grid 87, a third of the way across the system. They’re using an overlapping flight pattern, making it likely they’ll punch through the field the same way. Given sacrifice involved, that would leave 11 intruders active.”

  “Redirect 94% of the Vdubs to our new arrivals.”

  Percentages enabled Paradon to avoid revealing exactly how many Voidwhisperers were in play, but the math told Kruk it was at least 47.

  “I want every suppressor fighter in range of the field line to plot a direct intercept with the incoming enemies.”

  Paling, Kruk opened a private channel. “Maruk, you hear that?”

  His friend was shaken. “I did. Suicide run is a desperate move. He just sent those greels28 on QMS4 to their deaths. How important is this quarantine29?”

  Shortly, the tactical map displayed fifteen fighters hurtling toward the new intruders, then patching into flowspace. When they met just beyond the field, ten fighters and ten intruder icons turned yellow, indicating their demise. An additional six intruders self-destructed when they dipped out at the field, allowing the remaining six to enter without leaving flowspace.

  “We’ve lost five ships, sir.”

  Taken off-guard, Paradon snapped, “I can count!” With the crew looking to him, he pivoted to a more dignified tone. “Their sacrifice will be honored. Glory to the protectors of infant worlds. Now, get me updates!”

  “Vdub Group 1 in strike distance, awaiting Intruder 3 flowspace dropout. If vectors hold, the remaining six will be in Vdub Group 2 firing range in 5 nolaprikes.”

  After an agonizing five nolaprikes, Aroxia announced, “The 6 second wave intruders have dipped out. Vdubs commencing attack.”

  A moment later, she added, “All targets destroyed.”

  “Scans indicate no biological life
present. Computer simulated reconstructions confirm machine pilots on all intruder ships, verified with Vdubs encounter as well.”

  Machine…? The answer hit Kruk as if he’d been smacked in the face by the tail of Dragsan30 eel. “It’s a diversion.”

  Confident as he was, he’d need proof to convince the Captain. “Give me real time images of ESP4, highest resolution, priority alphe.”

  “Crewmember not authorized for alphe processing.”

  Panicking, Kruk nearly screamed out his father’s private code. “Emergency override Zucco 27 Alphe Oga Bema!”

  “Override approved. Use of override will result in mandatory conduct review.”

  If he was wrong, there’d be major consequences. If he wasn’t and did nothing, it could be much worse. His holo-emitters lit like stars as a quintillion bytes of image data flowed in from every station, generator, sensor, buoy, relay, and scope.

  The image built slowly, not yet clear enough for the Captain but more than enough for him. Under other circumstances, he might have been pleased his wild hunch was right.

  As it was, he sputtered nervously, then shouted, “I know who it is! THE CREATORS OF SPACE!”

  For a second time, the bridge went dead silent. An air of fear swept from left to right, engulfing the life around it. Paradon looked over and spoke gently, as if to a madman or a frightened child. “Son, the Creators have been gone hundreds of turns. There hasn’t been so much as the rumor of a resurgence cell in, what…30 turns? It can’t be…”

  “Sir, all due respect, the Vdub didn’t know about the machine pilots, right? That makes this the only time they’ve been outplayed since the Loronzon Incident, the day…”

  Captain Paradon’s withering look killed anything else Kruk might say. “I know the mission.”

  Seeing the crew was rapt by the exchange, he addressed them all. “Just in case, let’s initiate countermeasures.”

  Kruk’s hi-res scan was nearly complete, but the final stages dragged mercilessly. When it chimed completion, an additional signature appeared so far beyond the Nova System it would, otherwise, have gone unnoticed. With a blink and a hand gesture, he moved the image to the tactical projection. Overlaying the existing map, it showed a bogey closing rapidly on ESP4.