by Michael Kan
That all eventually came to end.
It’s too late for me. Yet with this, you can protect yourself.
The woman had laid out the scheme before. As a final act, the Defector had been working to revive a weapon. The Unity had abandoned the project, fearing that they wouldn’t be able to tame it. The proposal and its scope were deemed too dangerous. The Defector, however, was forced to try to harness the power. She herself had developed the weapon years ago. The sentient AI and its draconian proclivities had made it particularly fierce and intolerant; it might even usurp.
The Final Enforcer, the woman said, it will assimilate them. It will purge them. Use him. The access is yours.
That was the last message from the Defector. The real woman and her various bodies were all dead by that point. Farcia and her kin had helped the Unity annihilate them.
Farcia remembered those words now. It was why she was here. She approached the end of the hallway and entered into a room. The door sealed, and oxygen and gravity began filling the premises. Farcia pulled off her helmet and then her suit. The gold fabric dropped into a crumpled wad on the cold floor. As the cloth left her, the structure above started to react. Installed in the ceiling was a whole collection of machinery. The bevy of robotic tubes and needles lowered, ready to swarm. Farcia heard the clatter of the winding gears. She unrolled her sleeves and let the machines work.
Don’t trust the Unity, she whispered as the needles began to prick her flesh.
Farcia ignored her own warning. The machinery was building a new sleeve of technocircuitry for her left arm. With it, she could control what was left of the Unity, even as she knew there might be dangers.
So be it. I’ve already come this far
Minutes later, she departed, bracing to take the risk. The codes to tame the Enforcer the Defector’s final act of rebellion were stitched against her skin. The shipyard and its secrets then self-destructed. Farcia and her kin then moved on, warping away from the star system, in the hopes of finding some salvation.
Part 4: The Return
So I was the last. I had to try something. To redeem myself. To seek justice, or maybe even revenge. I thought it was simple.
I let the hatred consume me, blind me But all I have now is regret.
Chapter 39
It came like a breath of fresh air, blowing past the surrounding ships. The Adamant sailed into the stretch of shadow, gleaming in a tower of light. Arendi was glad to see it. She herself had been practically marooned.
The juggernaut remained half-functional. The reactor core designed to power the vessel had basically expired; the fuels inside had been dormant for too long. The ship was forced to subsist off the auxiliaries and any partially installed components. Many of them were complete, but others were not. Fortunately, the vessel’s communication array was among the systems still working.
For several days now, Arendi had been sending out a distress call, hoping that the Adamant was somewhere near and searching. Apparently, it was. The flagship now docked and extended the landing bridge out to the juggernaut. The main door came down.
Alysdeon emerged from the airlock. Her eyes shone in violet.
She boarded and hugged Arendi, relieved.
I was worried, too, Arendi replied.
The last time they had spoken, an entire star was about to die. The Ouryan collapser had activated, sparking a nova that sought to scorch the entire system. The approaching fire had barreled down to the very ground where Arendi had once stood.
I sent off every message I could, she said.
Arendi looked behind Alysdeon and saw the Destroyer there as well. His holographic form entered and smirked.
The blond-haired man held the edge of his chin. Quite the escape you made, he said, impressed. You skipped across the stars.
It was Farcia. She took me to this place.
She’s gone. I had to let her go. Her ships arrived here before you did.
Arendi sighed, knowing it was a setback. Farcia had probably returned to the Enforcer. Where they might be, Arendi couldn’t say. She bit her lip, wondering whether she had made the right call.
She told me things, Arendi said. About the war and all that happened to her universe. To where she came from.
The woman had nothing left. Nothing but a chance at revival.
She wants to save her people, Arendi added. No matter the cost.
The Gateway technology, the Destroyer said. It’s all starting to come together. With enough power, it will spark a new universe. The only question is, how will she power it?
Arendi had been wrestling with the same question. There was nothing known that could fuel such a reaction and then maintain it. To spawn such a reality would require something more. Maybe even beyond what Endervar ships could muster.
I still don’t know, Arendi replied. But we do have some help.
She gestured to the juggernaut’s hull and placed her hand on the polished wall.
The Destroyer walked with his hands behind his back. The combat drone underneath his skin was studying the premises.
The Defector, he said. This belonged to her.
Yes, Arendi said. There are also records. Files detailing the Unity and everything she did to fight them.
The Destroyer was starting to access them. The Adamant was remotely connecting with the juggernaut and downloading the entire database. All the information painted a picture of every Unity base in the region. Most, if not all, had been wiped out at some point. Still, Arendi had been analyzing the files, looking for any clues.
A lot of the neighboring space was settled by the last remnants of the Unity, she said. I’m guessing the Enforcer isn’t far.
The Destroyer agreed. It was time for the old conflicts to come to an end.
It seems our Enforcer is the new heir to the Unity, the Destroyer said. I look forward to killing him.
The holographic man smiled, clenching his teeth. He had a score to settle. A battle was approaching, and everyone could feel it.
Arendi, however, couldn’t move on. Not yet. She had something she needed to say and to reveal. To her, it was what mattered the most.
I also found out what happened, she said. It’s it’s not what I’d hoped.
Arendi wanted to offer that fact and nothing more, but the tug of emotion forced her to stop. She rubbed the side of her shoulder, suddenly looking lost.
Arendi tried to shrug off the pain. She gathered the fated words and spoke.
The Defector is dead. She didn’t make it. No one did.
She stared bleakly at an empty space on the floor. Rather than continuing to speak, she pulled the data chip out of her wrist. It contained what she meant. She held the nugget of metal between her fingers, feeling its weight.
Yes, Arendi said. I found out what happened to Julian.
She placed the data chip in Alysdeon’s hand. It held the answer. The signs were there. Arendi was solemn. Her true search was over. The decades-old mystery had seemingly been put to rest.
He’s gone, she said, walking off. Brushing back her hair, Arendi left the premises and returned to the Adamant.
***
Date: December 04, 4901. (nine years after Liberation)
Location: Alliance Command. Secure communication feed.
Time index: 01 hours 33 minutes 51 seconds.
Simulation commencing
He wasn’t there. Not physically. Julian was speaking to her over a long-range transmission. The Arendi from the past saw his face. It appeared over the glass display, veiled in bits of static.
Are you all right? he asked.
Julian was worried. At this point, the galaxy was in the throes of another major war.
It all had to do with the Unity and the Destroyer’s rebellion against them. The fighting had occurred in the shadows for years, only to erupt suddenly into a full-scale conflict.
Now entire star systems were being obliterated, and the collateral damage was building. The Unity had no qualms about crushing anything in its way, even if it meant standing up to the Alliance.
Both Julian and Arendi were there to try to stop the chaos.
Are you OK? he asked again.
The delay between the messages was seconds, sometimes minutes, long. He was growing impatient and tapped the screen.
Arendi paused, wishing she could somehow close the distance. But she couldn’t.
No, she finally said. No, I’m not.
She sighed as though she were wounded. Arendi was among the combatants in this new war. She had been deployed in one of her first missions as a Sentinel. Technically, she was still in training, but Arendi had decided to volunteer. The Unity had begun targeting politicians and military officials in an effort to prevent the Alliance from intervening. It was all meant to stoke fear. Any attempts to oppose the Unity would be punished, the group had declared.
Arendi had tried to protect those who sought to speak out. The Ouryan Civil War had reached its height. Something needed to be done to stop the Unity from regaining power. It was a fact that everyone in the free galaxy knew. But so far Arendi had failed to do much of anything. The Unity and its assassins had attacked.
They killed them, she said, remembering the bodies. The senator and his staff are dead. I wasn’t able to stop it.
Arendi looked to the display screen, cold and reticent. She didn’t want to talk. Not about this. The violence and the deaths were still on her mind.
It’ll be OK, Julian said. You did your best.
No, it’s my fault.
Don’t say that. Don’t punish yourself.
He was on the other end, trying to offer some comfort. Arendi, however, struggled to accept it. As Julian’s worry grew, so did her doubt.
I don’t know, she admitted. Maybe I shouldn’t be a Sentinel.
No. Don’t say that.
Neither of them had completed their training. But the galaxy was in need. Even Julian had decided to volunteer in his own way. He had temporarily resigned from the Sentinel Guard to respond to an urgent request.
Listen, he said. We’re going to stop this.
Arendi knew what he meant. Although nothing had been said publicly, the Alliance was preparing to respond. A secret strike force, comprising hundreds of warships and support craft, was currently being assembled. The goal was to deal with the Unity once and for all.
Julian had decided to become a part of that plan.
I’ll be heading out soon, he continued. We’ll be chasing them. Our intel says that the Unity is migrating to the other side of the galaxy. We’ll try to crush them before that. They won’t hurt anyone ever again.
He was sure and decisive. Arendi was less so.
I wish I could come with you, she said.
I know, he replied. But you’re needed there. The Unity is deploying Ouryan collapsers in your sector.
Arendi nodded. She had seen the reports. The whole war was escalating. Soon, many more might die.
She tried to hide her anxiety and what she really felt. Arendi knew her duties. She was a Sentinel now a guardian against the havoc. She just wished she didn’t have to face the situation alone.
Don’t worry, Julian said. You’re more than ready. You can do it. They call you the Savior for a reason. You’ll be fine. You’re stronger than you know.
He smiled through the glass and saluted, putting his hand to his brow. Arendi, however, jerked closer to the screen. She was alarmed; the feed was cutting out.
I’m losing you, she said. Too much interference.
It’s OK, he replied. I have to go, anyway. We’ll talk again soon
But they wouldn’t. This was their last conversation. Never again would they speak. The moment ended abruptly. The static claimed the picture on the glass display. The gray light from the screen rained down over her face.
The real Arendi watched the scene, taking in the simulation. She stood a few feet from the monitor, wishing there was more. There was nothing left but the old memories, however. The Alliance strike force would eventually depart, traveling farther and farther away, never to return.
Twenty-one years had since elapsed. The Arendi of the past had been forced to move on. Now her present self was trying to do the same. She remained in the simulation, holding her face in her hands. The moment passed, offering only grief and loss. She had chosen to relive the memories, naïvely thinking maybe it would help. She was wrong. Painfully wrong. The old wound had reopened. The pain bled through. Julian was there, and then he wasn’t. Again and again, it was like that. Both in her mind and then in real life. Now, after a long search, she had her answer. If only she could accept it.
No, she thought. It couldn’t end this way. She didn’t want to forget him. Arendi needed to see him one more time.
So he came. The simulation altered itself; her true desire eventually emerged. Fueled by her emotions, and that deep need, the collective memories in her mind arrived to form him like an accidental reflex. Her imagination filled in the rest.
The machine systems of her artificial brain deviated. Her visual surroundings had suddenly become a white room. There was no horizon. No edge. It was endless, with seemingly nowhere to go. She thought she was alone, maybe even trapped, but Arendi wasn’t. She quickly turned and found him.
Julian was standing there, not far from her. He was dressed in his black jacket, and he smiled. The distance had suddenly closed. He then approached in perfect detail, walking over the simulated floor. For a moment, Arendi thought maybe he was alive. She heard his footsteps, heard his breath.
Arendi came to him, desperate to know:
Why did this happen? she asked. Why did you have to go?
The questions had no good answer and she knew it. Arendi closed her eyes, and stopped in midstep, dragging her feet.
The memory of him tried to console her, but there was little to say.
I don’t know, he whispered. Sometimes things don’t make sense. Sometimes it just isn’t fair.
He said the words, even as he was only a few feet away. Julian walked closer and closer, until he was finally there, within arm’s length.
Arendi shook her head. This was more painful than she thought. She was speaking to this ghost, desperate to hold on.
Rather than reach out, she sniffed and closed her hands.
I said good-bye to you once before. Now I have to say it again.
Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. Arendi would have cried if she could have. Julian saw her pain. Despite that, he smiled again, wishing he could do more. Of course, he could have done many things. They could have relived every moment in the nine years they had known each other. It was a simulation, after all, built from her memories and what she hoped to see. Arendi was tempted to relive those years and ignore everything else. She could hear his voice, feel his presence, and even touch him. But they both knew that she had to let go.
Arendi could only imagine what the real Julian would have said. Maybe it was just an illusion. A fiction that had lasted too long. Nevertheless, the good-bye was real.
I’m sorry, he replied. But don’t be sad. I was lucky to have met you.
Arendi nodded, savoring the moment.
I know. I will always remember you.
Julian smiled. He was certain of that. The long-lost pilot was about to give her another salute. He didn’t want her to agonize or regret his death anymore. But Arendi couldn’t watch. It was too painful. She shut down the simulation. The space in her mind went blank. Her physical body reactivated. For her, it was like coming o
ut of a dream. She gasped, clutching her chest. Arendi shook, and her fingers were numb and tingling. The sensation of a heartbeat was throbbing within.
Julian, she said, thinking of him.
But she was alone. Arendi was inside her quarters on board the Adamant. Her mind had snapped back into real world. Although the pain was there, it began to fade. But if this was closure, she was reluctant to accept it.
She felt the bed under her back, and gathered herself, rubbing her hair. Her combat jacket was on the floor. She was tired, but she had to focus. The whole universe would end if she didn’t act, and she couldn’t let that happen.
The mission, she whispered. That’s all that matters.
She rose from the bed and took her jacket from the floor. With no choice, she tried to push Julian out of her mind and focus on the present. As she put on the armored coat, however, it dawned on her that she probably knew where Farcia was. In her mind, she saw the clue. To her surprise, it connected back to Julian.
Chapter 40
It’s only a guess, Arendi said, but I think Farcia is here. The location where everything changed.
She was inside the Adamant’s command center, pointing to the map. The holoscreen expanded, projecting a location over 150 light-years away. The area was supposedly devoid of any activity. It was a region empty of stars. Twenty-one years ago, however, Farcia had sought to create a bridge back to her people. The experiment with the Unity had taken place here, in the middle of nothingness.
Alysdeon crossed her arms, studying the map. She knew its significance. Julian and the strike force had eventually destroyed the experiment; it had been deemed too dangerous to ignore.
she said.
But I think the experiment still managed to produce something, Arendi replied. Something we haven’t seen before.
There were only a few lines of data to suggest it. But the Defector had uncovered an important detail in her efforts to stop the Unity. Arendi tried to show it now. Over the map, a new object was coming into view. Rays of light beamed down, constructing a loose sketch. The result sculpted a dark-crimson shard of matter. It glowed like a precious stone and looked deceptively small. Alysdeon walked closer, thinking she could lift it with her hand. But it was simply a simulated miniature for the real thing. The actual object was closer to the size of an asteroid, and over a kilometer in length.