by JN Chaney
“To colonize,” said the Cognitive. “They expanded to new worlds. Over the centuries, settlements and colonies spawned.”
“No one stayed here?” I asked.
“At the time, it was impossible. The ship had lost power. Attempts were made to bring our systems back online, but the only viable solution required long-term power transference from a raw source.” She waved her hand at the nearby wall, and suddenly a screen lit up, showing the surface of the planet where we had found the moon, only a few days ago. I recognized the tower and the circular building around it, except here, in this image, it was fully intact. “You saw this before, did you not?”
“Yeah, it nearly killed us,” I said.
“This is but the peak of an otherwise underground structure known as a power enclave. Its purpose is to gather thermal and nuclear energy in order to resupply Titan’s emergency power. A group of scientists and workers remained behind during the colonization effort in order to revive our systems. They were the people who built those structures. Sadly, the activation process was never performed.” She smiled at me. “Until you arrived.”
“In other words, they left you here to rot,” I said.
“Jace, don’t be rude,” said Abigail, giving me a look that suggested I’d better watch myself.
I ignored her. “These people went through all the trouble of building this giant moon-sized monstrosity, only to leave it behind when it got too hard. Seems wasteful, don’t you think?”
Athena didn’t say anything, which told me I was right.
“Please, Captain, while I appreciate your words, I must assure you that I was not abandoned,” said Athena. “On the contrary, my mission was to deliver the colonists to their designated worlds where they could prosper and grow. I was not able to do this, although I am happy to know the mission was ultimately a success.”
The screen flickered behind her, showing the slip tunnel, and she froze for a brief moment. The tiles on the wall changed to screens, allowing us to see outside the ship. It was green and swirling, as slipspace tended to be, and lightning shattered along the distant tunnel sides.
“Exiting slipspace,” said Athena, finally moving again.
A split formed before us, cutting down along the passage, revealing the dark void of normal space. Titan moved through it, leaving the tunnel behind. I could already see the nearby star—a small white dwarf.
Athena looked at me. “Captain, this is why I asked you to join me here. We have a situation involving our fuel reserves.”
“What kind of situation?” asked another voice from behind me. I looked to see Freddie standing next to the door.
“What are you doing here?” asked Abigail.
“I was hoping to ask Athena something, but it can wait,” he said.
I turned back to Athena. “You heard the man. Let’s hear it.”
The Cognitive nodded. “Titan’s fuel core is based on tritium, an extremely rare compound not easily manufactured. Because of this, Titan was outfitted with several other reserve systems, including solar. If we are to continue our voyage to Earth, we will require frequent refueling, due to the consumption requirements of slipspace travel.”
“How frequent?” asked Freddie.
“For every hour of slipspace travel, we will need six hours of refueling,” explained Athena.
I scoffed. “Are you kidding? Why the hell can’t you just use a regular slipspace generator?”
“Titan creates its own tunnels,” said Athena. “In order to do so, a great deal of energy is required. We could traverse pre-existing tunnels, of course, but we are currently nowhere near any established pathways.”
“We’re not near any tunnels?” I asked.
“When we escaped from your pursuers—General Marcus Brigham and the Sarkonians, was it?”
I nodded. “Bunch of bastards.”
“Indeed,” she continued. “When we formed a new tunnel, it took us out of the previously established network. We will need to reestablish our path if we plan to use existing tunnels in the future. The alternative is constant refueling.”
“If we kept refueling, how long would it take to get to Earth?” asked Freddie.
She froze in place for a second, then blinked. “Twenty-six years, five months, and twenty-three days.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Guess we can’t do that.”
“We can,” she corrected. “However, you will have aged a great deal.”
Freddie gulped. “I’d be in my fifties.”
I glared at him. “Right, so we’re not doing that. You said the only other option is using the existing tunnel network?”
She ran a finger along the wall and it changed, showing a single blue dot at the center. “This is our current position,” she said.
A few other dots appeared around the blue one. A moment later, thousands more came into view, creating what I quickly realized was a galaxy.
“You’ll notice where we are, but observe,” she said, snapping her fingers.
A line formed, expanding from our blue dot to another yellow dot, then another. It branched into three, continued in multiple directions.
“The network grows and breaks at various points, but there is usually a through-line, connecting everything in one way or another. It appears complicated, but observe.” She snapped her fingers again and this time a single blue line appeared, beginning with our position and ending somewhere on the other side of the galaxy. It zigzagged in various directions, yet never broke. “The problem now, of course, is how long it will take. Even with this particular path, our flight time is still rather long.”
“Not twenty-six years, though,” said Freddie.
“Correct. This path is much shorter, requiring sixty-seven tunnels and over five years of travel time.”
“Five years?” I asked, not hiding my frustration. “I’m not sure I can stay cramped up on this moon for that long.”
She nodded. “I understand it is not ideal, which is why I have prepared a third solution, should you wish to hear it. I must tell you, however, that it is more dangerous than the other two.”
“Let’s hear it. I like to know my options before I commit to anything.”
She flicked her wrist, causing the screen to zoom in on part of the galaxy, directly in the existing path of the blue line. “There is a planet, not far from our present location, that I believe contains another tritium core.”
“You should have led with that,” I said. “Could’ve saved me ten minutes better spent sleeping and drinking.”
“Apologies,” she said. “There is a problem with the location, which is why I waited to provide the option.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” asked Freddie.
“The map you provided allowed me to analyze the borders of the various governmental bodies. Based on that information, it would seem this planet exists within the Union’s territory, making it difficult to access.”
I sighed. “That’s why you didn’t tell me right away.”
“Correct. I also believe this planet has been colonized, which means the core may be difficult to obtain.”
“What’s this world called?” Freddie asked.
“Unknown,” said Athena. “There was no information in the media provided, aside from its location.”
“None whatsoever?” asked Freddie. “That’s unusual. Don’t you think so, Captain? Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
“I’ve seen classified ships and military bases on moons that shouldn’t be there, but never a planet without a name.” I turned back to Athena. “So, our options are twenty-six years of stop-and-go refuelings, five years of following the slip tunnel network, or stealing a new core from inside Union space. Sounds like three shitty scenarios, if you ask me.”
Freddie nodded in agreement. “I don’t think attacking a colony is worth the risk. We’re free of both the Union and the Sarkonians right now. They’ll have a hard time keeping up with us if we just keep going.”
“Possibly,” said A
thena.
“Possibly?” I repeated. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“The tunnels we form remain accessible to others, once we create them,” she explained.
I raised my brow. “Come again? Did you just say the tunnels don’t close behind us?”
“Wait, does this mean the Union might be following us?” asked Freddie.
“Should your pursuers decide to continue after us, it will be impossible to stay ahead of them indefinitely. Our rate of attrition is simply too great,” said Athena.
“All because we keep stopping for fuel?” I asked.
“Correct,” said Athena. “Following the existing slipspace network will allow us to preserve a great deal of that fuel, but not all of it. We will need to stop again eventually, and when that happens, I will be unable to ensure our safety.”
“Have you picked up any ships behind us?” I asked.
“None so far,” she assured me. “However, that could change at any moment.”
I tried to weigh my options, but each one seemed like too much of a risk. If we kept going, we risked letting the Union find us. After that, it’d be a dice roll to see if we had the energy reserves to use Titan’s shields.
“What should we do, Captain?” asked Freddie.
“Gather the crew,” I told him. “We’ll need to figure this out together before we make that decision. Tell everyone to meet me in the conference room.”
THREE
Rather than head straight there, I decided to make a quick stop in Alphonse’s room. If anyone could give me some insight on the Union’s thought process, it would be a Constable.
“Ah, Captain Hughes,” said Alphonse, when he saw the door open. He sat in his bed, reading a pad. Octavia had given him a digital library of over six thousand books. A kinder gesture than I would’ve done, but then, he did save Lex from being kidnapped, so maybe we owed him.
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Alphonse. Not yet. There was a strong possibility that he was playing all of us, that killing Docker to save Lex was all a show, and that eventually he’d find a way to take us all out. You might have thought I was paranoid, but when you’re a Renegade, that kind of thinking keeps you alive. Shit, it’d worked for me so far.
“Constable,” I said, holding my pistol at my hip. I shut the door behind me, never letting him out of my sights. “I’ve come to have a talk.”
“I thought you might, given our last discussion,” he said, setting down the pad.
“Sorry to interrupt your reading.” I didn’t move any closer, just kept my distance, staying near the door. The way I’d heard it, Constables were fast and deadly. I’d never met one before Alphonse, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
He smirked. “Octavia provided me with some fascinating reading material. All fiction, except most of it is...how shall I put this?” He paused, glancing at the pad. “I suppose it’s a bit…erotic.”
“Erotic?” I asked.
“Perhaps she thought it would be funny,” he said, looking genuinely amused. “In any case, I’ve been reading one of the least graphic ones about two soldiers—one Union and one Sarkonian—who fall in love, only to have their respective governments go after them. I have to say, despite the suggestive nature of it, the politics of the story are actually fairly well-developed. I suspect the writer, Lucy Valentine, though clearly a penname, must have some former experience with government work.”
“Sounds like you’re just bored,” I said.
“There is that,” he said, nodding. “Yet another reason I am glad to see you.”
“Speaking of,” I said. “Let’s get to why I’m here.”
He leaned forward. “Do tell.”
I glanced in the corner of the room, where I knew there was a camera. I’d asked Athena to let us use this particular location so that we could keep a better eye on Alphonse. I suspected he knew this, although I couldn’t be sure.
I held my hand to my ear, pretending like I was speaking into a communication device. “Athena, show the planet we discussed earlier,” I said.
The wall to my left changed at once, showing a world with dozens of continents.
“Do you know where this is?” I asked, looking at Alphonse.
He got to his feet and, with his hands behind his back, slowly approached the display. “It looks familiar. Where is this located?”
“Inside Union space,” I said.
He touched his chin, nodding slowly. “I see…and the name of the planet?”
“It’s not listed,” I said. “But something tells me you already knew that.”
He cracked a smile. “I like your faith in me, Captain.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I just expect a Constable to know a thing or two about unlisted worlds. Am I wrong?”
“Priscilla,” he said crossing his leg. “The name of that planet is Priscilla.”
I chewed on that for a moment, concluding that it was a stupid name to give a planet and rather something you might call a three-year-old girl with pigtails.
“Why isn’t its name listed in the database?” I asked.
“The same reason that you’re interested in it,” said Alphonse. “At least, that’s my assumption. Tell me, Captain, are you after an artifact? Is that what this is all about?”
“What do you know about it?” I asked him.
“Not as much as you, I’m guessing, but enough to know it’s priceless.”
“It’s nothing for you to be concerned with,” I said.
He chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose it is, given my current situation.”
“Got anything else you can tell me about this Priscilla?” I asked.
“Only that you should keep your distance,” said Alphonse.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
He cleared his throat. “First, there’s something you should know.”
“Is this where you tell me a story, Al?” I asked.
He smiled, ignoring my sarcasm, and continued. “The Constables, on average, receive more intelligence than any governmental body in the entire Union. I’ve seen reports on things that you couldn’t possibly imagine, much of which is located on Priscilla, buried underground in the vaults. Priscilla is the Union’s dumping ground for all exotic artifacts that the government believes to be of any significance.”
“Are you telling me that planet is some sort of Union warehouse full of priceless artifacts?” I asked.
“Not entirely. There’s more to the galaxy than relics from Earth, but yes, I suspect you will find a great many things of value on Priscilla,” he said. “That is, if you can take them without getting killed.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” I told him.
“But I do, Captain, which is why I’m going to offer you my services, should you require them,” said Alphonse.
“That’s the other half of why I’m here, Constable. I need to know how far your access goes,” I explained.
“Are you asking if I have the ability to enter the facility on Priscilla?” he asked.
“That’s right,” I said.
“I have a level-10 clearance. It can take me as far as the lowest floor of the main lab.”
“Isn’t that as far as we need to be?” I asked.
Alphonse shook his head. “No, not quite.”
“What else is left?” I asked.
“There’s a door,” he said. “A very large door. Behind that, you’ll find what you’re after. Only two people have access. The lead researcher and the commander in charge of the base. Your best bet would be the researcher. Of course, this is all contingent on you reaching that point.”
“You don’t think we can do it?” I asked.
“On the contrary, Captain. I have full faith in your capabilities. It’s just that you’ve never tried to pretend you’re a Constable. They’ll ask you a series of questions that you won’t be able to answer. They might decide to run your face through the database.” He sighed. “And that’s just you. If you bring any of your accomplices,
they won’t have an I.D.”
Goddammit, I thought. The way he made it sound, getting caught seemed inevitable.
“Might I propose another solution?” he asked.
“Depends,” I said. “If you’re asking to leave this cell, I’m afraid I can’t oblige.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, with a frown. “I was only going to say that the best means you have of retrieving what you need is to take me with you.”
I scoffed. “No way in hell am I doing that,” I snapped.
“I’m afraid it’s your best option,” he said. “The security detail that meets you will want to see me standing with you. I’ve been there before and they know my face. At least, their head researcher does, Doctor MaryAnn Dressler. There’s always a chance she won’t be there to meet you, but given the unexpectedness of your arrival, it seems likely she’ll want to know why you’re…why I’m there.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Alphonse was a fucking Constable. How could I trust a man like that, even if he did save Lex from a would-be kidnapper? The man could be hiding something, and I was certain he was, but I also had to get into that base and take that core, one way or another.
No, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk into that facility with a Constable beside me.