by Aer-ki Jyr
1
November 25, 3254
Unnamed System
(Uriti/Hamoriti location)
“You will not be granted access to this system.”
“I will have it with or without your assistance,” Nefron told the Oracle. “Your defense mechanisms will be disabled and your files accessed manually if needed. Answer my questions and I will allow you to remain intact and monitoring the Uriti. Failure to comply will mean your destruction.”
The Oracle hesitated the prerequisite 2.2 seconds, then answered per its programming.
“Maintenance of the Hamoriti is my primary task. I am authorized to use all available methods to contain it. Ask your questions, Chixzon.”
“Do you have a message for me?”
“You were never meant to find this facility.”
“I’m disappointed,” Nefron said honestly. “Usually the Ftrolee like to boast of their accomplishments. Confirm your programming origin.”
“Base program originates from the Ancients. Augmentations were made by the Ftrolee.”
“When did the Ftrolee destroy the Ancients?”
Riley, still heavily distracted by his efforts to keep everyone else’s minds in check, glanced in Nefron’s direction and raised an eyebrow.
“Specify time units,” the Oracle requested.
“Use mine then,” Nefron instructed, speaking Chixzon instead of English.
“The Ftrolee conquered the subrace known as the Barnok of the Ancients 6,239,444 years ago.”
“Why were three additional Uriti added to those captured by the Barnok at a later date?”
“The Ancients subrace known as Katarsh were annihilated. Their assigned Hamoriti were then transferred to the Barnok for safe keeping.”
“Which no longer existed.”
“The Ftrolee utilized the data given to them to arrange the construction of this site and two others utilizing lesser allied races for the construction.”
Nefron turned away from the Oracle and looked at Riley. “Long story short, the Ftrolee, whose weapons you sampled outside, were an ally of the Chixzon when they were conquering the galaxy up until their dominance appeared to be at an end, at which point they turned on us. The Ancients did not accept them into their alliance, but they inserted themselves anyway by killing the local Ancients and posing as them. The Ftrolee are duplicitous, and the Chixzon have known them to do such things before, so this makes sense. They couldn’t build this facility themselves, so they gave the knowledge they’d pilfered from the Ancients to their unknowing allies and had them construct it in their stead with an altered Oracle program.”
“Why give this Oracle such knowledge?”
“I suspect it has an alternative purpose,” Nefron said, looking back at the floating hologram. “State contingency plans regarding renewed contact with the Ftrolee.”
“Full knowledge of events pertinent to the creation of this facility were embedded so that any Ftrolee recovering possession of the Hamoriti would be aware of what has transpired.”
“They hid this facility’s location from the Ancients?”
“Correct.”
“So to extort them with that knowledge later?”
“They wished leverage, thus the sites had to be kept secret.”
“Do you have the locations of any Uriti beyond the three previously stated?”
“Negative. Such knowledge was searched for, but never obtained from the Ancients.”
“Big, fat, bargaining chips,” the mage commented as he stood on Nefron’s right.
“What is the last recorded status of the Ancients?”
“Original subraces numbered 18. At last knowledge 10 remained intact, with estimates that 3 others were near to falling.”
“Falling how?”
“A combination of the efforts to subdue the Hamoriti and the exploitation of the power vacuum created by the Chixzon fall. Even before the last Hamoriti was captured there were widespread wars breaking out amongst the minor associates of the Ancients as they sought to topple each other or their parent member. It was speculated that the Ancients coalition would disintegrate in the aftermath of the Chixzon fall, either through conflicts with one another or others rising up to challenge them.”
“And the Ftrolee expected to use that chaotic environment to their advantage,” Nefron said, looking at Riley again.
“Any chance they’re still out there?” he asked, cringing against the sustained mental effort.
“Possibly, but if they are I doubt they’re anywhere near here. My guess is they would have built these sites somewhere far away from whatever region they had plans on. It’s also possible they were wiped out due to stupidity. They’re careful and deliberate, but have a bad habit of betting on the losing team.”
“Define ‘subrace’ of Ancients?”
“The alliance that opposed the Chixzon must have been referred to internally as the Ancients. The means to disable and contain the Uriti were probably a combined effort with that technology being shared by all involved. The Barnok were situated further out in this section of the galaxy with their territorial domain where The Nexus currently is and multiplied tenfold. I’m guessing that the Ftrolee spotted their weakness and quietly moved to conquer them from within, meaning their local alliance of races never knew they were destroyed until far too late. They had them built this facility in their name, then killed the workers so those races wouldn’t know the location. Only the Ftrolee would.”
“What do you think we should do with them?” Riley asked, gesturing to the frozen races behind him and further out on the platform.
“Your call. We can deal with the Uriti independent of them if you wish.”
“Who do you think is the most reasonable?”
“The cyborgs.”
“Explain the situation to them then,” Riley said as he slowly released control of those few nearest him.
“Calm yourselves,” Nefron said, though his visage didn’t help convey that message. “I am not Chixzon.”
The cyborgs looked at him, but rather than speak they took notice of the lack of noise and the fixed poses of the other races around them.
“They have been frozen in place so we can speak privately,” Nefron continued. “The Human telepathy is quite strong, far stronger than mine, and he is holding them at bay just as you were a moment ago. You do not remember it, but during your lapse I obtained some relevant information from the Oracle.”
The lead cyborg, the one who was not in battle armor, looked at Riley quizzically.
“He’s speaking the truth,” the Archon agreed. “But talk to him. My mind is occupied right now.”
“You have the ability to turn us into your puppets?”
“Yes.”
“Be thankful for that,” Nefron interrupted. “If they did not have this capability, you would not be looking at your one and only chance to stop the rogue Uriti.”
The cyborg looked between the two of them, then back at the frozen races around him and the vassals standing idly by. “Explain.”
“The Chixzon were destroyed,” Nefron began, “but they put into place a backup plan that would see their race escape the cataclysm that was befalling them. They left a genetic legacy in another race that was a much degraded version of their own, spread them throughout the galaxy, then went to make their final stand knowing that there was no way they were going to survive now that the Uriti had been disabled and their greatest strength taken from them. The hatred of the galaxy was too much for them to be allowed to live…so they had to escape galactic memory.”
“With them thought dead, eventually the genetic countdown wit
hin their chosen race would complete and they would be reborn. Star Force discovered this genetic countdown and accelerated it in a single individual, a volunteer, to see what would actually occur. Their knowledge of genetics is considerable, and they were certain they could undo whatever was done after they learned what was needed. They did not understand the transformation that was to come, and the individual’s mind was so restructured as to lose himself. He became fully Chixzon, and in the process the volunteer became an enemy.”
“But rather than kill him, as you probably would, they did not give up on him, rather trying to undo the transformation and rescue the volunteer from what had happened to him. Thanks to their considerable telepathic abilities and tireless efforts, they helped that individual to free himself. The intellect of the Chixzon is not to be underestimated, and they appealed to this intellect to think and reason its way to freedom. It was difficult and treacherous, but eventually the volunteer freed his mind and returned to his true identity that the genetic programming had overridden. Rather than have his physical body returned to normal, he chose to remain in Chixzon form to retain the abilities and knowledge now available to him…including the ability to control the Uriti if they were ever found again.”
The cyborg looked at Nefron. “Do you speak of yourself or your ancestor?”
“I am that volunteer. I am the only one, and the genetic legacy left within my former race has been expunged so that no others can undergo this transformation. The Chixzon must not return. They are far too dangerous, and now that they know of their fatal flaw they will not repeat it.”
“You suggest they would not use the Hamoriti?”
“They would definitely make use of them. But they would not rely on them.”
“You said this race carrying the legacy was spread across the galaxy. Star Force cannot have reached all of them.”
“No, we haven’t. But every grouping that we have discovered we have neutralized via a genetic alteration that most of them don’t even know occurred. They are no longer a viable pathway for the Chixzon to return, but we will not give you their identity for you to hunt them down and kill them to make sure.”
“I have more troops on the way here as we speak,” the cyborg admitted.
“And what do you intend to do with them?”
“I do not know. Are you certain you can control the Hamoriti?”
“Through the same methods that the Chixzon did, yes. But I do not know how their imprisonment has potentially altered them. I need to study this one as much as I can before we proceed to the freed one.”
“And what will you do to it?”
“I will call to it. If it obeys, I will direct it to an uninhabited system where it will not produce minions. It is probably still obeying the last orders given to it. If I give it new ones the immediate problem should be remedied.”
“Can you destroy it?”
“The Chixzon created them so that they could not be destroyed, and even their own warfleet could not hope to contain one if it went rogue. That is why they never let one within their own systems.”
“Why create a weapon you cannot shut down?”
“Because if it hadn’t been for the accidental discovery of the sedative chemical they would have owned this galaxy. Their defeat was a stroke of luck, nothing more.”
“Why are you speaking to us and not the others?”
“You are the more level headed. If we must deal with the Uriti on our own, Star Force will, but after all the time and effort you’ve spent containing this threat, we would prefer to have your assistance.”
“And you still need the location of the other containment sites?”
“Yes, but we have ways of locating them even if you do not.”
“And do you intend on waking these others up so you can corral them somewhere safe?”
“For the moment those lying dormant should remain so. But we need to find as many as we can, and not just the 10 noted. You are under the mistaken impression that the Ancients were a single race. They were not. They were the alliance that defeated the Chixzon. Those you know as Ancients were the race whose jurisdiction covered this portion of the galaxy. The Oracle has provided evidence under duress that they were destroyed by another race who then impersonated them after the original seven Uriti were contained. It was they who ordered the creation of the three additional sites to contain Uriti that were then captured elsewhere and tasked to be contained here. This race was once an associate of the Chixzon before they betrayed them. They are called the Ftrolee and if they are still in existence they need to be located and dealt with.”
“Dealt with how? We will not avenge the Chixzon.”
“Then avenge the Ancients whom you so revere. The Ftrolee are dangerous, and like the Chixzon, prefer to attack through non-military avenues.”
“Are the rest of the Ancients still in existence?”
“Possible, but it is likely that most of them were destroyed in the aftermath of the war. The Chixzon kept many threats suppressed based on their reputation alone. With them gone, those threats would have emerged and began power plays of their own…”
“…and the Ancients would have been so weakened from fighting the Hamoriti and their minions that they could have been toppled by the scavengers,” the cyborg finished.
“Indeed. But we do not need them to contain this unleashed Uriti. Star Force can handle this on our own.”
“What is your price?”
Nefron conferred telepathically with Riley. “The Trinx must stop their uplifting of the Li’vorkrachnika and abandon the protection of their worlds. If they do not, we will still contain the rogue Uriti, but we will have to fight and conquer the Trinx in order to ensure they do not make the Li’vorkrachnika an even greater threat than they are now. We would prefer they simply stopped given the fact that the Li’vorkrachnika’s services will no longer be necessary.”
“That’s it? No tribute required?”
“No. And we will not extort you or others with the threat of unleashing a Uriti on your homeworlds…though that is well within my power. We are Star Force and have a long track record of how we fight wars, and if you examine it you will see that such things are not our style.”
“But you would still have the power of the Chixzon at your disposal?”
“Yes.”
“Can you make more Hamoriti?”
“No. To do so would require the original source, and if it has not been destroyed or escaped back to the core of the galaxy, I know only of its previous location long ago, and it is far outside the current travel range of Star Force vessels.”
“And if you had this source?”
“The methods used in their construction would not be permitted by Star Force, but I do hold the full knowledge of the Chixzon…or at least everything they deemed of value to pass on to their reborn civilization.”
“Then you are by far the most dangerous individual within the galaxy,” the cyborg said logically.
“That’s your ignorance talking. But I am probably the most dangerous that you know of.”
“Then some would reason that we are honor bound to kill you here and now, no matter what it takes. Some would even say that risking waking this Hamoriti would not be too large a price to pay to ensure that the Chixzon do not return and create more Hamoriti.”
“And yet I am also the only solution you can see to the current crisis.”
“True. It was wise to release us from your telepathic imprisonment first,” the cyborg said, looking at Riley. “You have played your hand well thus far. I hope that is a sign of wisdom rather than guile, for we have no legitimate choice but to make use of your knowledge, all the while knowing that we have no way to control you. Allow the rest of my people in here before you wake the others and we will provide security while they are informed of the situation.”
“One thing first,” Riley said, unable to hold the minds at bay and search the cyborgs’ for the answer he sought, especially given that most of their me
mories were electronic and beyond his ability to access directly. “Could you and the others have built up an army to fight the Uriti minions over the given time had you acted differently?”
“The Trinx could have. Of the nine of us they are the smallest, but they have devoted their entire civilization to the protection of the Hamoriti site entrusted to them. They even abandoned their previous worlds to relocate to it. They have no other concerns to deal with, while we and others cannot devote our full resources to the problem while maintaining our own borders against other threats. We have contributed much, and continue to do so, but the Trinx are in the sole position of being capable of doing more.”
“Why have they not?”
“They are devoting all of their resources to the moment to moment containment and producing as many of their vassals as they can to forestall a breakout rather than devoting some of those resources to create more production facilities. Their justified paranoia has blinded them to the reality that the Li’vorkrachnika troops are successfully containing the minions with their sacrifice. The Trinx should divert resources to the development of more resources, but they hold their production quotas to the maximum without fail.”
“Are they expending them?” Nefron asked.
“Some, but they have assembled a large army in reserve. We believe they have more ground troops than the rest of us combined at this point, and perhaps half as many ships. If you were to attack them out of retribution for their gifting technology to the Li’vorkrachnika, they could probably defeat any attempt you made.”
“So they’re hoarders?” Riley asked.
“Rooted in fear. In the past they have been the wiser, but over time their wisdom has twisted.”
“How would you suggest we break the news to them?”
“I will do so. Release them all simultaneously once my troops arrive and I will speak for you. If their vassals are ordered to attack we will shield you…if necessary,” he added after Riley shot him a disbelieving look, considering the display they’d just put on with the external defenses. “We will interpose ourselves to help prevent any confrontations while the others come to grips with the necessity of the situation. We have long sought a solution to the Hamoriti. Once they realize this may very well be it, they will agree to assist you.”