by Michael Kan
The Destroyer ground his teeth. So you hide, yet again, he snarled. To his annoyance, his prey had slipped away.
Assuming his holographic form, the Destroyer oversaw the search from the Adamant’s command center. Surrounding him was the data. The circular room became flush with layers of neon. He had no need for a physical presence, of course. He had bid adieu to his own organic self millennia ago, so all this was simply a facade, including his finely-cropped platinum hair.
But the Destroyer was a courteous man. He had guests on board, and he relished playing his role. Behind him, the main door opened. Arendi entered the room, and the life support came online. She stepped inside, feeling the light and air gather. The inside of the room was a polished white, and along the peripheries was a crown of crystal lights.
She heard the oxygen ventilate in a gust. Her black hair blew in the wind.
Still no signs? she asked, hoping for an update.
The man’s teeth dug into his fabricated lips. Unfortunately, no, he replied. This duel will have to come another day.
Inevitably, there was only one conclusion to come to: the Unity’s mother ship had managed to flee. His opponent had likely repaired itself and retreated into the night. To where, the Destroyer could only speculate. For now, all he could do was study his prey.
We have unfinished business, he muttered, looking up at the images.
He turned his attention to what he knew of his adversary. On display was a treasure trove of data. All of it had been pulled from the Destroyer’s intrusion into the mother ship. His efforts had mapped much of the vessel.
Arendi saw the detailed scans. They included the ship’s interiors and, most important, the secret Arcenian research.
She had been given a copy and was already pouring through the files. The Destroyer was doing the same. He immersed himself within the holofields. The slices of data revolved across his fabricated body, and the stream of information might have overwhelmed him. But despite it all, Arendi noticed his focused stare. He was undaunted by the scrolls of schematics. Instead, he was paying close attention to one image in particular. In front of him, the hologram stopped and glowed. Apparently, it was the last bit of data the Destroyer had recorded from the mother ship.
Arendi walked closer and was surprised to see it a semblance of a face swimming in the data flow.
Who is this? she asked.
The figure in the hologram was shrouded in fog and spark, but Arendi saw the contours of life. The shadow was distinctly humanoid. For a moment, she even glimpsed lips and eyes. The Destroyer squinted at the sight, his eyes piercing through the murk. He knew the coding behind this ghost intimately.
Meet the Unity, he replied. Or at least one member of it.
What? she asked.
The blond-haired man opened his hand. The rest of the data drifted away, and the image rose to the center. The Destroyer could tell that Arendi was surprised. As far as she knew, the old masters of the Ouryan Union had always refrained from taking any physical form. Of course there was the occasional exception.
My former masters, he said derisively. They were a sick oligarchy old and feeble, ready to expire.
Indeed, the group was ancient. For over three thousand years, the Unity had ruled its virtual domain. The machine empire had been among the most powerful in the galaxy. At one point, the group had even sought to invite everyone to join their cause, including organic life. Billions had been swayed, becoming one with the collective. But in reality, the leadership behind the Union was far from united. The bickering was constant, he explained, pacing the room. The power plays were profuse.
They cared only for control and technological advancement. War and enslavement these were their tools.
He lifted his hands, clutching the air. Once he, too, had been their slave.
There was one, however, who was different, he said, extending a single finger. He glanced up at the hovering image.
This member sought to leave the Unity. She was tired of the sordid affair.
He displayed other files, which were messages. Each one was a secure dispatch made decades ago, written directly to the Destroyer. Arendi began skimming the layers of the hologram. Very quickly she understood the importance of both the shadow hovering before them and the files. The figure had even been given an alias.
The Defector Arendi said. She was the informant.
The man nodded. Like me, she chose to betray the Unity.
Arendi fixated on the dates on each message. The last dispatches had been sent decades ago, during a time when the galaxy had been locked in another conflict.
The Ouryan Civil War, Arendi whispered. So she was the one
It was a brief period of time right after the Great War. The Endervars had seemingly been defeated, but one dangerous threat still remained.
The Unity, the Destroyer said. It became difficult to find the members, even with the threat of escalation.
Arendi remembered. Eventually, Julian and the Alliance had both become involved.
Our informant, however, tipped the scales, he said. She revealed their strongholds and gave us access to their codes. She helped kill the Unity from the inside.
As for her ultimate fate, the Destroyer added, for a long time, it was unknown. Until now.
Was she there? Arendi asked. On the mother ship?
I don’t know, he replied, pointing to the image. He showed her the full scene. The shadow of a life form was there, along with the deadly machine at her side.
The Enforcer I battled he projected her. It was brief, but she was there.
The Destroyer had been wondering what it might mean. Maybe the elusive figure was already dead. Or perhaps she was in absolute control. After all, the assumed defector was once a member of the Unity. They were a fickle group, always vying for power. It could be that she was simply like them: orchestrating and conspiring to further her control.
The last message was twenty-one years ago, Arendi observed.
Yes. Despite all my attempts, I never spoke to her again. She went rogue, and then she went silent.
Arendi read the contents of the final message. It had come via a courier, from an unknown location. The contents were concise but cryptic: The Unity is dead we are free.
Clearly, she was wrong, Arendi said, straightening her combat jacket. We’ll have to find them. This Enforcer is still out there.
Agreed.
The Destroyer and his drones were still scavenging through the area, looking for any potential clues. As they spoke, his automated ships were collecting the scraps of found debris and dissecting the various materials. But perhaps the real clue was already evident.
The Destroyer pointed again. Soon, the neon around them all disappeared. The artificial holofields fizzled against the new reproduction. The room seemed to expand. The walls vanished and then became distant as blackness encroached.
This was no ordinary image. This was a trickery of light. Arendi watched as the projections built the simulation. Layer after layer of pixels wove through the air, stitching together the final product.
Here is the most important data from the mother ship, the Destroyer said. The Arcenian research is ours.
The man had managed to reproduce it in every detail. His scans during his intrusion of the enemy’s mother ship had been extensive.
Arendi took in the surroundings. She was now inside another room. Another facility, in fact. There was little light and supposedly no air here. The very ground had been pulled from the earth and carried into space. In front of her was the secret. It was large. She gazed at the mountain of machinery and initiated the scans.
Good, she said. Perhaps now we’ll finally understand what Farcia was looking for.
***
The archived records from the Alliance had mentioned the failed project. It was among the many the famed Arcenian scientist G. Kozanis had tried to complete. The exact details, however, were sparse. Arendi pulled the official f
ile into her mind and read over the summary again.
Gateway technology, she said. Or simply put: a teleporter.
Arendi stood in the simulation and glanced at the actual research. The device dwarfed her expectations. It was encased in an opaque block but was unquestionably enormous, even though she could only see a small portion of it. The column of black ran up to the ceiling, while the rest was embedded inside the facility itself. But according to the scans, it measured over one hundred meters across and another six hundred meters high.
Arendi walked up to the dormant mass. The Destroyer, meanwhile, recalled what he had seen.
Farcia was here, he noted. She came to this very location.
He sauntered across the floor. He was retracing her actual footsteps. With his right hand, he shone a light over the path.
Strange, Arendi replied. I’m still not sure why they would need this
She was aware of the concept. An Interstellar teleporter could conceivably offer instantaneous travel across the galaxy. This particular project had originally envisioned a network of doorways that could link planets together. A passenger could simply step through and appear light-years away, at a new location.
Arendi’s eyes darted around the structure. Ironically, it was like staring at a wall. But the column of black merely contained the technology. The interior itself was a maze of machinery. She placed her hand on the cold exterior. Her fingers, however, passed through the simulation. The light rippled across the black surface.
The dream of G. Kozanis, she said. But for some reason, the project failed.
She looked again at the report but found no explanation. The inventor behind it had mysteriously abandoned the research, even as the Alliance had demanded its continuation.
There were rumors of this, the Destroyer said. During the Endervar War, it was thought that a teleporter could penetrate the enemy shield. From what I remember, it had been elevated to a high priority.
All that, however, was eventually scrapped. G. Kozanis died not long after, and because they had no choice, the Alliance moved on to other research.
Arendi had been reading all the available information on current teleportation tech. Over the years, many other scientists had tried their own concepts, in hopes of revolutionizing space travel. But in the end, someone else had beaten them to it.
Farcia and her enforcer, Arendi said. Somehow they already have their own teleporter. Their own gateway.
She remembered the effect. Time and time again, Farcia had summoned the fiery portal out of nowhere. Arendi could only speculate that something on board the enemy’s mother ship was generating the new mode of travel.
The Endervars and the Unity the Destroyer said. Two powerful enemies, joining forces
I know, she said with a sigh. And now they seek to create something else.
Arendi stepped back from the secret research. The puzzle was before her, although the various pieces were scattered on the ground. The mechanics were dense and esoteric. Even with the data in hand, Arendi would need more time to analyze the technology. So far, she could only come to one conclusion.
Whatever it is, the Enforcer can probably replicate this technology, Arendi surmised. He had a week to scan it. Who knows what he could be preparing.
She was about to walk off and contact her associates at Alliance Research. But before she left, the Destroyer had one other clue to show her.
Maybe this will help, he said, waving his hand.
Hovering over the air was a holofield. It displayed the schematics in letters of violet and red.
I couldn’t quite risk hacking the mother ship too extensively, he explained, but I did come across this.
The data had been located inside a combat drone on the vessel. The Destroyer had managed to take over the machine during his intrusion. He had slowly assumed control of its systems and used it to make his escape. Among the many original orders floating within the drone was a set of sophisticated modifications.
I’m assuming they were meant for this Gateway technology, the Destroyer said. Perhaps our enforcer intended to apply them.
The data entered Arendi’s vision. From what she could tell, it was a small piece of a larger schematic, but she recognized the general outline of the blueprint.
This modification, she said, is the plans for an energy converter. But this part it doesn’t make sense.
She eyed the single data point hovering above the Destroyer. The digits on display suggested something impossible. For a long moment, she stood there, verifying the calculation. This isn’t right.
Arendi turned to the black column. The cold machinery no longer seemed dormant. In her artificial mind, she could already envision it: the proposed modification was funneling energy into the device. But this energy at this intensity and scale shouldn’t have been able to exist. At least not in any known form.
Disturbing, isn’t it? the Destroyer said. It would require an unimaginable amount of power. Like sending a thousand stars to their death.
Or maybe more. Much more, she said.
Arendi stared at the black column, imagining the powers at work. Whatever Farcia and her enforcer sought to create, it would likely cascade throughout the cosmos.
Chapter 27
Arendi went to the next-best lead. It sat in the Adamant’s main hangar bay and was scheduled for repair. The shuttle stood out from the rest of the ships. Partly because of the blast damage. She walked toward the craft, noticing the misshapen hull. Much of the skin had melted like a candle. The stain of the enemy plasma burn was etched across the cream-colored surface. She brushed her thumb against the dents. The escape from the enemy had clearly left a mark. The interior was another matter. The main door to the craft, though charred, was open.
Arendi took a peek inside. The polished walls still possessed their shine. With another step, she felt the soft, matted floor under her boots. The surfaces seemed to breathe out colors of vanilla and wheat. As she crossed into the central cabin, however, she could see signs of the punctured hull. Bits of the ceiling were black and perforated. But for the most part, the interior was pristine.
The room’s shine lingered on, curving and containing the light. Even Arendi’s own reflection appeared along the bulkhead. She glanced at it, only to turn her attention away. Alysdeon was in the corner, sitting cross-legged on the rug like floor. At her feet was a pile of evidence. She was sifting through the various items, which included personal belongings and nutrient packs and scraps of trash. With her gloved hand, she held up a glass vial one of the many that had been found broken or scattered on the floor.
She set the empty vial aside as Arendi knelt down on the floor with her.
I just went to place Farcia into stasis. You can rest easy now.
Alysdeon looked at Arendi. She hadn’t slept in days. The fatigue seemed to be settling in. Her violet eyes were especially dim. Her long hair was tied into a ponytail. She stretched her neck, tilting her head from one side to the other.
Are you feeling better? Arendi asked.
With another motion, she brushed aside the items beneath her. Her hand moved in an angry flinch. She then closed her eyes and exhaled. Coursing through her breath was more than just exhaustion.
Alysdeon clenched her jaw, frustrated.
She then threw off the gloves from her hands. Her muted face heaved another sigh, this time with more disappointment.
It’s not your fault, Arendi said. You did more than I could have hoped.
Arendi offered a smile, and briefly, Alysdeon smiled back. But the gesture masked her true concern. She was in no mood for comfort or relief. Looking up, she examined the inside of the shuttle, an
d then she unexpectedly shivered. Although the walls were gold and white, Alysdeon saw and felt something else.
She put aside the objectivity. With her other hand, she pulled the back of her hair, and let the ponytail unravel.
During this time, she had largely remained calm in the face of the threat. The whole Alliance was under attack, and still she had seemed unfazed. But in truth, she was just as angry as everyone else. Furious, even. She had simply tried to hold back her feelings.
Alysdeon sniffed.
I know, Arendi said. You’re not the only one.
To be honest, I never cared to understand the Endervars. I would much rather forget them.
It was a sentiment shared by all, especially the politicians within the Alliance. For over two decades, the galaxy had been at relative peace. Leaders across the quadrant had sought to focus on reconstruction, trade, and even expansion. All that, however, had come to an abrupt end when the enemy decided to remind everyone of the past.
Now it’s a mess, Arendi said. I don’t even know what to think anymore.
Alysdeon placed her hands behind her head and began retying her hair. Her composure returned as she breathed another round of air.
Alysdeon could feel both. She responded to the madness of this war with both sympathy and sorrow.
Given this, there was probably little vengeance to be had. But Arendi didn’t want to stop to think or sympathize.
I don’t care, she said bluntly. I won’t let my guard down.
Alysdeon countered with her own rebuttal.