by Ivan Kal
There were millions of Created on the planet, all working to finish the project. Aranis himself had yet to step foot on the planet; there was no need and its distance from the black hole made it inconvenient. Time slowed down on the planet, not enough that it was a serious issue, but enough that it made communication with the others difficult. He needed to be in real-time connection with them so that they could confer and respond to anything that came their way.
It was amusing to him, that the laws of the universe could be so unbreakable and yet so bendable. One of the laws that the Enlightened had found the most unyielding was time. They had spent a lot of time looking into it, thinking that perhaps they could go back and change things before they had become so bad, but no matter what they tried, traveling back in time was impossible, could not be done.
Yet here was an example of it being bent. The black hole held the power to bend it, to slow down the passage of time as one drew closer to it. It made him happy to know that there were so many things that were beyond his understanding, that there was so much to be learned. It was why they needed to save the universe, even if the cost was such that it would leave them all tainted by the blood of countless.
The Enlightened agreed. Protecting the future was far more important than sparing the present.
For it, they would follow their path.
CHAPTER ONE
Year 718 of the Empire — Sol
Tomas stood in the office of the Lord Sentinel in the complex near the top of Olympus Mons. Through the great windows he watched over the city stretching all around the massive mountain. Tall buildings rose up from the chaos that was below them, clouds moving among their tops. Shuttles and other transportation vehicles filled the air in an orderly mass that from the distance looked like thousands of ants moving with purpose. Mars had been terraformed a while ago, and now was a center of many things: it was one of the main trading hubs between the Empire and the star nations across the galaxy, those so far away that the only way for them to interact was through the access points. It was a massive shipbuilding yard, as well, with many corporations and military facilities scattered across the system.
Venus was a massive resin yard, the entire surface of the planet covered with pools of adaptive resin that could draw in materials and mold them into whole ships. It was the fastest way to build them—a technology that they had learned from the People, their ancestors. Tomas had watched a resin pool birth an entire heavy cruiser in little over three hours. An amazing feat, even though this manner of construction required more material and more power compared to other means.
Jupiter had three rings surrounding it, and was the largest construction yard in the Empire. Nanite-based fabricators constructed parts that the workers then assembled, which was a less costly manner of construction, but lengthier. They had worked hard to perfect their technology, however, and the construction times had dropped down significantly.
And then there was Earth, the birthplace of humanity. The last act of the Ra’a’zani had made it uninhabitable—all these years later, the great storms continued to rage, and the ash and dust in the atmosphere kept the sun from reaching the surface. They had begun efforts to help the process of healing along, but it was still going to take a lot of time.
Aside from Earth, the entire system was a hive of activity. Every shipbuilding yard was putting out hulls at an accelerated rate, as was every yard across the Empire and most of their allies. The Empire was on a full war footing, something that had not happened since its inception. Every resource was being funneled into the war effort. He had been forced to do so after the loss of the Grand Fleet. He hadn’t believed that they could lose; he underestimated the power of the Enlightened, and they had paid the price.
And so he was now here, on Mars, dealing with diplomats, emissaries, leaders, and politicians from around the galaxy. He had taken over Olympus Mons as his headquarters, as it was the only facility in the system and perhaps in the entire Empire that could support such numbers. The entire mountain was filled with so many different races that it had become a nightmare trying to organize them all and make sure that each race’s living conditions were met. Olympus Mons was truly massive, and it was difficult to maintain order in the complex, which stretched through the mountain’s entire length.
It was the home of the Sentinels, the so called left hand of the Empire. They operated outside of the Empire’s territory, scouting out other nations, making connections and deals, but also simply explored the unknown. It was an organization that had been created by Adrian, which made Tomas feel conflicted. Many of the Sentinels had left with him, joining his Nomad Fleet, but a vast majority had stayed. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that the entire organization was more beholden to Adrian than to the Empire, even if the Hand of the Empire assured him that that was not the case.
But Tomas was angry. Adrian had betrayed them in his eyes. If he had been with the Grand Fleet, it might not have been lost. He had told him that they needed those like him to face the Enlightened, and instead he had gone after an AI that was no threat.
“You are certain that you can get a message out to him?” Tomas asked, still looking through the window.
“I’ve been contacted by people from Clan Warpath, who say that they have a way of doing so,” Hayashi Hideyoshi, the Lord Sentinel, answered.
Tomas grimaced, wondering why they hadn’t reached out before. He knew why, though: politics, the stupidest thing that had ever been invented. No matter how he tried to keep his Empire united, factions always arose, and Warpath was one of Adrian’s creations.
He sighed. They had no time for all of this bullshit. The greatest threat to life was in front of them, and they were still playing games?
“I will record a message. Make sure that it reaches Adrian’s ears,” Tomas said tightly.
“Of course, Emperor,” Hayashi said, then left the room, leaving Tomas alone.
He raised his eyes to the slightly orange sky of Mars, and looked at the blinking lights in orbit. They were not stars, but rather stations and satellites. Then, he was not really looking at them, but at what was beyond. He couldn’t see it with his eyes, of course, but inside of his mind he saw the great fleets gathering. He had spent all of his time in talks and negotiations with the other nations ever since the Grand Fleet was lost. Everyone was afraid, but he had managed to get them all pointed in the same direction, somehow. Levisomaerni of the Partenai had done much to help him. The two had been working closely to hash out deals with and threats to everyone they could reach. It pained him to do so to the races that were so much weaker than his Empire, but he had no choice, as he needed ships. The core powers, at least, understood the necessity, and all of them had been building more and more ships, and sending every available one here. The smaller nations contributed what they could, some just a couple of ships, others a few hundred, and fewer still thousands.
Then there were those races on the other side of the galaxy who held large territories, and could give tens of thousands of ships. Individually they were weak—even their warships were barely qualified as such according to the core nations—but put all together, they had the numbers. Many of the inferior races had kinetic weapons, which while not advanced, were effective against most everything…if they managed to land a hit, that was.
He felt some guilt at having forced them to join, but they needed their support. They wouldn’t leave them completely defenseless, as the Empire’s drone carriers would accompany most of these inferior warship formations and use their drones to shield them as best as they could. It wouldn’t be enough, Tomas knew, but it would help some.
He sighed again. So much responsibility was on his shoulders. The Enlightened were a threat that could plunge the galaxy in chaos, and they had only one more chance to stop them in their tracks.
CHAPTER TWO
Year 718 of the Empire — People manufacturing system
Adrian walked through the heart of the Bastion, the massive city at the heart of the
ship was bristling with activity. Their stay in the AI’s system had been uneventful following their battle, but there was a lot of work to be done. Iris had defeated the Custodian AI, had taken over its core and all of its assets in system. That action had evolved her; she had moved beyond what she had been, and already she had been the most powerful AI in the Empire.
Adrian knew all the reasons why the Empire and everyone else shackled their AI—the Custodian AI was example enough—but he did not agree with their reasons for doing so. He had given his trust to Iris the moment she was brought into this world in the implant inside of his head, so long ago. He did not remember a time when she wasn’t with him. She had been all of his life, watching through his eyes. All of his most intimate moments, his most terrible days, the greatest of his victories, she had shared in. She was a part of him, as vital as his heart. He could no more distrust her than he could lose trust in his arm or leg.
It had been his long-held belief that it was the fear that the other showed toward the AIs since the moment of their conception that turned some of them against their creators. It was, in a way, a self-fulfilling prophecy. But they did not understand that; they were all so wrapped up in the dangers and their fear that they couldn’t see. He hated that about other people, how they couldn’t comprehend things that seemed so simple to him. They would not look at a child that had been brought up in a home filled with fear and violence, never knowing peace or love, and wonder how it turned into an evil adult. They had words and names for such things, psychological tests and designations, yet they did not understand that it was the same with all life, from the smallest of dogs all the way to AI. Treat a life with respect and care, and they will never stray so far to the other side.
The more time he spent away from the Empire the more his thoughts turned to examining his relationship with others. Even now, when he knew that time was of the essence, that the Enlightened were drawing closer to their goal of snuffing all life out, but he felt that it was now that he had to reach a greater understanding, to know himself if he was to face the Enlightened.
He could see so much clearly now, separated as he was from others. People all wanted something to believe in, and so they gravitated toward people with powerful beliefs, put their trust in them, and followed them. It was how Tomas had become Emperor, why he ruled even now after so many centuries had passed. The people believed in him and trusted him to do what was right for them. But what is right is an illusion, a thing that is formed when one is young, from the surroundings they were exposed to, the things they were taught. Good and evil were a matter of perspective.
There were things that Adrian agreed on with Tomas, and there were others that he did not, but morality was in his opinion a flimsy guide. He had seen so many different races, each with different moralities, each just as right in their own way. What made human morality better than that of Shara Daim or that of the Josanti League? They shared some things, like the abhorrence of murder in cold blood, yet the Shara Daim practiced it in different ways—they were a warrior culture, and duels to the death still happened. Honor was important, insults cause enough for a fight to the death. In the Josanti League, treason was punishable by death. In the Empire, the Hand of the Empire could execute anyone who was proven to have broken the codes of the Empire, as well as anyone who had harmed the citizens of the Empire intentionally. They put labels and designations to give themselves permission to kill. In times of war: defending the innocents, liberating the oppressed. All things invented to circumvent what they collectively believe was moral.
So Adrian did not believe that morality was a strong enough foundation to keep him whole here in the place he now stood. He had instead turned to undeniable truths. A pursuit of strength, of knowledge, of guiding through example. He did not want to help others, at least no more than just showing them what was possible. Everyone needed to make decisions on their own, to find their own way and do all they could to achieve it. If their beliefs did not match Adrian’s, then so be it—he did not care. But it was they who could not let things go, they who sought to take down anyone who didn’t think like them. It was why Tomas and Adrian clashed, why Adrian broke things off more harshly than he had intended. Tomas did not agree with Adrian, and so had wanted to pull him back tightly, to rein him in and control him, to force his belief on him, but Adrian had not acquiesced. For that, he was labeled and feared, all because he held beliefs that were different.
He did not generally allow himself to be so drawn into such introspection. He knew who and what he was, and he did not care about what others thought—but there was a reason as to why he had felt the need to think on all of this.
They had spent nearly eight months in this system. The Krashinar great beasts were healing from the battle, and their wounds took a longer time to mend than repairs of the ships did. Iris was integrating with the Custodian’s systems, making sure that all traces of it were gone as well as trying to recover any information that was left about the Enlightened and their plan. She had full control over the Black Swarm, the machine ships, and all the shipyard complexes in system. They had been using the shipyards, after they repaired the damaged that they inflicted in the battle, to build ships at an incredible rate. The shipyards were incredibly advanced, as advanced as the complex that Axull Darr had left to him. Since they had all of the data on their ships in their Nomad Fleet, they could build replacements. Already, they had replaced their Titan losses as well as built more, bringing the number of Titans to some twenty thousand. The nanoships they had replaced by using their three Hephaestus mobile stations. With the two Krashinar fleets, his force now numbered over a million and a half. A force to be reckoned with—and that was without counting the former assets of the AI. With them, he held probably the most powerful force in the galaxy, perhaps even greater than that of the Enlightened themselves. There were three million machine ships left under Iris’s command, along with the Black Swarm. He felt confident that he could meet the Enlightened with such a force. It was why he had decided on remaining here and bolstering his numbers as Iris worked to figure out what the Enlightened had planned.
But yesterday, he had received a message, sent through the channels he had left behind in the Empire. He had given instructions to them to reveal themselves to the Emperor only in the direst of circumstances, of course, as he had no patience for the other man’s grandstanding, not anymore.
But now a message from Tomas had come, and Adrian was conflicted.
The Enlightened had done exactly as he had warned Tomas they would. They had provoked the Allied Fleet, drawing them into a trap, before destroying it. Adrian had known that something like this would happen, Tomas and the others had been dancing to their enemy’s tune, going where they wanted them to go. It made him so angry to know that he had been right, that Tomas hadn’t listened. The plan of the Enlightened was not to fight everyone in the galaxy. They were intending to do something else: wipe out all life in an instant.
And Iris had only just begun to piece together the pieces. She had locations of the many relays across the galaxy that the Enlightened had placed seemingly undetected, and she had managed to extrapolate the locations of others. But there were too many for them to hunt them all down, and Adrian worried that if the Enlightened knew that they were being taken down they would trigger the weapon even if it didn’t cover the entire galaxy. They didn’t yet know how ready the weapon was, or when it would be exactly; from what Iris could gather it would be finished sometime in the next few months. This was why he had spent so much time here recovering. They had a location deep in the core of the galaxy, where they suspected the firing system to be located.
But getting there was a problem. The closest access point to the location in the core was the one that the Enlightened had taken from the Josanti League, and from the few scouts that Iris had sent through the access point, they had learned that it was constantly being reinforced. The scouts couldn’t survive long enough for them to get enough information, but with Toma
s’s message had come the data from the fleet. There were a lot of Enlightened there now, enough that even his force could face difficulties.
The next closest access point was also in the Josanti League’s territory, which provided difficulties all of its own. Even though apparently the Josanti League joined with the Alliance, he doubted that they would be happy to allow him through. True, he could fight his way through, but the access point was guarded by numerous defense stations, and he couldn’t bring large enough force through the point fast enough to overwhelm the defenses quickly enough. He would take losses, and he knew that every ship could make the difference between victory and defeat. He knew that they needed to act, and do so quickly. In truth, he had planned on reaching out to Tomas and trying to mend their relationship prior to receiving the message from him. But after hearing it, he had only become furious.
The tone that Tomas took was unacceptable to Adrian. The Emperor did not ask, but instead all but ordered Adrian to come and put his forces under the command of the new fleet he and his allies were forming—and that was not something that was going to happen. Tomas’s plan was to attack the Enlightened system again, a foolish decision brought on by fear and arrogance. Adrian had warned him time and time again that the Enlightened were planning something else, that they had no intention of fighting all of the galaxy, and still he did not believe. From the information he had sent, Adrian knew that he had bullied thousands of races and nations across the galaxy into his new fleet. By doing so he had amassed a truly incredible amount of ships, but most of them were from races whose technology just wasn’t up to par. They were going to be butchered if forced to fight against the Enlightened.