Kalian chewed over the explanation, scouring his memory to see if he had discovered such subtleties before. In truth he had never looked for them, preferring to use his abilities on physical and organic matter.
Naydaalan turned to the AI in his chair. “Why does the planet’s presence trouble you?”
ALF glanced at the Novaarian before returning his attention to the viewport. “The Gomar used Eclipse missiles at every opportunity. There are probably very few systems left in fact. I would wager that if you used the sensor array, you would discover an unusual amount of black holes in this region of space. With all that in mind, I can only imagine why Savrick left the capital system so intact.”
Kalian felt that part of his mind where the echo of Savrick still remained. Over time he had come to understand the Gomar in a way nobody ever could. After the death of T’lea, his wife, Savrick shut himself off from everyone, devoting himself to the cause. Kalian could see past the surface now and look deeper into his personality. He knew how hard it had been to place Esabelle inside the Gommarian - a battle he fought every day. Kalian could also see where his personality had been infected by the cube, making him angry and bitter.
“He left it as a monument…” Kalian announced, watching the planet swell in front of them. “To him, this is the tombstone of the Terran Empire.”
“Please Kalian,” ALF urged. “Purge anything that’s left of him from your mind. Having any part of his consciousness inside of you is dangerous.”
Kalian tapped his temple. “My mind, my rules.”
“The mind can be just as easily poisoned as the body,” ALF commented.
“With you in my ear every day, you think I don’t know that?” Kalian quipped, silencing the AI.
Naydaalan awkwardly looked from one to the other and turned back to his console. The building tension between Kalian and ALF was becoming palpable. There was simply no trust between them anymore. Kalian could see that the nanocelium was the singular clue that tied everything together, and although he couldn’t see the big picture yet, he could see that ALF was connected to it all. ALF created nanocelium, the very substance the cubes were made from, and yet he claimed to have no knowledge of their production.
“We should leave this system,” ALF warned. “There’s nothing here but graves. I have coordinates for the Criterion, my original housing. There may be answers there.”
“I want to see the planet.” Kalian ignored ALF’s comments and continued to stare at the world forming in front of them. This was the world.
Naydaalan replied, “Our first priority should be to secure a local Starforge, ensuring that we can establish a route back to Conclave space.”
Kalian wanted to disagree, but he wasn’t here alone, as originally planned. He was now responsible in part for Telarrek’s son and making certain that he returned to his home. There was a part of Kalian that wasn’t sure if he cared about returning. Li’ara’s death had left a hole in him that sapped him of any inhibition - the idea of getting lost in the galaxy was all too appealing. He tried not to think of all the humans that he had left behind, an endangered species that looked to him for some chance at a future. Looking at Naydaalan, Kalian realised that even that thought was selfish. The human race was not the only people under threat of annihilation. Just because the Conclave was made up of aliens didn’t make them any less real. Their lives mattered too.
“Give me a moment,” Kalian said.
The universe swallowed him up as he dropped into the cosmic soup. His consciousness expanded, passing through the layers of nanocelium that made up his exo-suit and beyond the Advent. The vastness of space awaited his open mind and he continued to explore. That emptiness was usually cold and dauntingly gargantuan, but this time Kalian settled into the nothingness and relaxed his awareness, allowing the universe to fill his mind. He was able to distinguish between the individual pieces of cosmic dust and refractory minerals that filled the star system like invisible fog. Expanding further, Kalian could even find their source, where the particles were denser, as the dust was expelled from the local sun. It was this very substance that condensed to build entire planets.
Kalian felt an unusual peace to know that despite whatever role intelligent design played in the creation of his people on Earth, they were all formed from stardust, the very thing that surrounded his mind right now.
Focus…
He imagined that it was Esabelle instructing him. Looking beyond the dust and unusual matter that barely clung to this dimension, Kalian searched for unnatural phenomenon. The universe was scatty and chaotic, it didn’t pulse at perfect intervals as the strange signal on the other side of the planet now did. Honing in on the signal, Kalian tried to feel out the source but felt his mind stretching too far.
His awareness snapped back in the blink of an eye, along with his head, which slammed into the cushioned rest. When his physical senses reigned supreme once more, Kalian opened his eyes and flexed his fingers, fitting back into his body.
“It’s too much,” he stated through laboured breath. “There’s something artificial on the other side of Albadar. It’s emitting some kind of pulse, but I can’t…” Kalian looked at the planet, its northern hemisphere now dominating the viewport.
“You need to learn to look beyond the planet without going through the planet.” ALF used his softer teaching voice. “There’s too much physical matter to compute if you go through it. Your mind is more sophisticated than that now, Kalian. You’re still looking at the universe the way a person assess their environment. Everything is made of nothing. There are spaces between the atoms that make up the universe. You must allow your mind to flow through those spaces, to look beyond the planet as if it weren’t even there. Using this technique, I have seen Terran search neighboring solar systems from their bedrooms.”
Kalian was tired of ALF’s teaching. “And how many years training did they have?” he asked sarcastically.
ALF nodded slowly and arched his eyebrow, conceding. “Time has never been on your side, Kalian.” The AI smiled, offering his sympathies. “But don’t worry; soon you’ll learn that time is merely a construct designed by beings who measure the universe in decay, not growth. When you truly understand yourself and what you are, time will lose all meaning.”
“I’m getting really tired of listening to this fortune cookie bullshit.” Kalian waved his hand across the console and used telekinesis to bring all the systems back online.
The engines whirred to life, resonating from the back of the Advent. Holograms of orange and blue rose from the various consoles when the navigation array began to actively search for destinations. Four other planets were detected in the system, as well as what appeared to be the remains of a Terran-made installation, on the far reaches of the system. The pulse that Kalian had found on the other side of the planet pinged in the form of a red hologram between Naydaalan and himself. The message that displayed was written in Terran glyphs and continued to flash.
“What does it say?” the Novaarian asked.
“It’s an emergency beacon,” Kalian replied before ALF. “It’s a call for help.”
“Is it coming from a ship?” Naydaalan sifted through the sensor array results, searching for the source of the signal.
“No,” ALF said flatly. “Those coordinates are the location of Albadar’s Starforge.”
“Then it still has power?” Naydaalan sounded hopeful.
Kalian had a feeling that what was left of the Terran Empire would soon leech Naydaalan of that emotion.
“I build things to last,” ALF said arrogantly.
“Let’s take a look.” Using his hands this time, Kalian programmed a course into the navigation array.
The Advent swept over the top of the northern pole of Albadar, skirting across the planet’s fine atmosphere until the world could no longer be seen. Space once again filled the viewport, along with a holographic overlay that pinpointed the Starforge in the distance. What soon took shape, however, was not a Starfo
rge, but the remains of one. The crescent station was in pieces, scattered across hundreds of miles of space.
Naydaalan took manual control of the ship and stopped the Advent from entering the debris field. It was hard to believe that these pieces had been here for two hundred thousand years. The vacuum of space had preserved the material, preventing it from aging. The Novaarian’s four hands never seemed to stop moving across his console.
“The debris is covered in scorch marks,” Naydaalan observed. “There are still residual energy signatures from weapons fire.”
“Where’s the beacon coming from?” ALF asked, his eyes cautiously scanning the debris.
Naydaalan buried his elongated head in holograms and readouts. Kalian didn’t have to look at them to know where it was coming from, however. With the swipe of a finger, the spotlights, positioned above the bridge, illuminated the debris in front of them. One of the larger chunks of the Starforge was dead ahead and fully exposed under the scrutiny of the spotlights.
“In there…” Kalian sat forward in his seat, peering into the stark shadows.
The shadows moved. A slither in the dark.
“Get us out of here.” ALF saw it too. “It’s a trap.”
Naydaalan didn’t respond straight away but continued to stare into the debris, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.
“Now!” the AI shouted.
Four Novaarian hands dashed between holograms and tapped the glass console, repositioning the ship to turn about.
“No time!” Kalian assumed control of the thrusters, using the console, and hurled the Advent into the debris field.
The ship narrowly avoided the bulk of the larger piece of debris and pushed into the field at an angle. They were too late. The space junk burst apart as if the hull had been covered in spores. The black spores coalesced and attached to the Advent like leeches, growing in size. Alarms went off on every console, warning them of proximity to foreign bodies and potential hull breaches. Naydaalan took back control with two holographic domes, which he used to steer the ship through the field. There were too many pieces to avoid them all, making collisions inevitable. The sounds reverberated through the walls when bits of the Starforge bounced off the Advent’s hull.
It wasn’t the debris that concerned Kalian.
A quick sensor scan formed a three-dimensional hologram of the ship above Kalian’s console. The leeches appeared to be a collection of tentacles without a head. Every strand spread out across the hull, searching for a weak point on the Advent. Every bit of them was made from nanocelium, each capable of altering their shape and creating…
The hull screeched above their heads as the tentacles formed pointed spears and dug into the ship, peeling the panels away. More alarms rang out, warning them of hull breaches and imminent depressurisation. One of Naydaalan’s arms whipped out and silenced the multiple alarms with the flick of a slender finger.
“They are trying to breach the engines!” The Novaarian was a blur of movement in his chair. “I can only repair the ship to a certain extent. If the damage is beyond my capabilities we will be stranded in this part of the galaxy!” His two lower arms continued to navigate through the Starforge rubble. “That is if we do not become part of the debris in the meantime…”
Kalian looked up at the viewport, observing Naydaalan’s fine piloting. “Stop avoiding the debris and hit everything.”
“What?” Naydaalan stole a glance at Kalian.
“Hit everything! We need to knock them off the hull!” Kalian jumped from his seat and positioned himself in the centre of the bridge. The holographic emitters around his waist moved of their own accord to keep ALF in the same spot.
Naydaalan considered Kalian’s words for just a second, before altering the path of the Advent and allocating more power to the inertial dampeners, stopping them from feeling the sudden change in direction. It didn’t stop the ship from shaking every time a large piece collided with the hull. It wasn’t long before a small crack appeared in the top corner of the viewport after a piece of ancient piping speared the edge.
“Maybe don’t hit everything…” ALF added quietly.
The hologram was hard to examine with the constant shuddering, but Kalian caught sight of a mass of tentacles being flung from the Advent, along with the severed tentacle of another. The ship continued to veer in every direction, Naydaalan often taking the time to ensure they skimmed the surface of the debris. A new alarm flashed on the glass console, alerting Kalian to a hull breach only a few metres from where he was sitting.
“We’ve got a breach!” Kalian waved his hand through the hologram of the Advent and brought up a new one, showing the schematics of the ship. A red square overlaid the blue ship, highlighting the area being breached.
“I polarised the hull but it has had no effect,” Naydaalan stated. His concentration was clearly focused on the viewport.
“They’re made of nanocelium…” ALF observed. “They’re adaptable.”
Kalian had a sharp reply on the end of his tongue, regarding ALF’s connection to the nanocelium, but found himself immediately distracted by the drilling sound coming from the back of the bridge. They were burrowing through the ceiling.
“Turn us around!” Kalian ordered as he lowered himself to the floor, resting on his knees. “Take us back to Albadar!”
“What are you doing?” Naydaalan asked, concerned.
“Just get us out of the debris!” Kalian closed his eyes.
The sound of alarms and hull impacts disappeared at the same moment the universe contracted to only encompass Kalian. His Terran awareness pulsed through the ship to the outer hull, where the nanocelium worked their tentacles into murderous cutting tools. He could feel the microscopic machines writhe and wriggle, always changing their shape to cover as much surface area as possible. Kalian’s mind felt around the edges of the torn hull, while his tastebuds detected its metallic tang and his nose inhaled the scent of burning where internal wires had been cut. It felt to him as if the entire ship was an extension of his body. Every bolt, drop of fluid and electrical connection was a part of him. Even Naydaalan’s humming form was just another part of Kalian’s being.
In this state of mind, Kalian lost all sense of time and space. He had to focus intensely to stop that loss of self from consuming him. It was easy to get lost in the intricate complexity of the universe. As if his mind were a computer, Kalian was able to delete everything of no consequence. To this end, he erased the ship and Naydaalan from his mind’s perception and concentrated on the nanocelium intruders. He instantly counted nine scurrying across the hull. It took an unknown amount of time to use his telekinesis and form a shell between the Advent and every particle of nanocelium digging into the ship. His consciousness was only partly aware of his hands, which had formed the outline of a ball in front of his chest. As Kalian’s mind expanded outwards, so too did his hands, pushing the telekinetic field away from the ship’s surface.
The light of the physical world returned when Kalian finally opened his eyes. The gloomy bridge brightened when Naydaalan directed the ship out of the debris field and back towards Albadar, silhouetted against the sun. Kalian’s Terran abilities briefly scanned the ship, searching for any serious breaches or unwanted passengers. His feedback was only a second faster than that of the ship’s array.
“We’re free!” Naydaalan exclaimed.
Albadar and its starry backdrop dominated the viewport once more. Its greens and blues had once been reminiscent of Earth and Century, but no longer. The black clouds sweeping over the planet’s surface were testament to the war that had ravaged its lands and oceans. The dominant storm was massive and entirely menacing as it rolled over the northern hemisphere.
“What were those things?” the Novaarian asked, still rigid in his chair.
Kalian stole his gaze from the planet and returned to his seat, beside Naydaalan. “Mines. Clusters of nanocelium left behind by the Gomar. Savrick must have had them reprogrammed…” Kalian e
yed ALF suspiciously.
“I thought that process could only be done inside the Criterion?” Naydaalan cocked his head. “Perhaps it is a bad idea to seek out your old housing, ALF.”
“Savrick didn’t use the Criterion to reprogramme the nanocelium,” ALF replied, meeting Kalian’s accusatory expression. “The cube he found on Hadrok had the power to not only reprogramme nanocelium but replicate it. That’s how the Gommarian came into being.”
Naydaalan’s golden eyes widened with shock. “The Gommarian was made by one of the cubes?”
Kalian answered the Novaarian, having seen it play out in his mind. “Savrick stole nanocelium from Kaldor, the only city on Hadrok. The cube was able to forge his exo-suit and counter the Harness that kept all the Gomars’ Terran abilities in check. It also constructed the Gommarian from a single grain of nanocelium.” Kalian looked at ALF again. “Powerful stuff in the wrong hands.”
ALF frowned. “The cubes are as much a mystery to me as they are to you, Kalian.” The words sounded tired as if the AI was becoming exhausted with the response.
Naydaalan worked the controls and checked the sensor array. “The mystery of the cubes will have to wait. Clearly, the local Starforge is not an option. The external long-range sensor has been damaged, but if we can land on the planet I believe I can fix it. Once it is functional again we can search nearby systems for other Starforges.”
ALF’s holographic image flittered as he walked behind Kalian’s chair, coming to a stop between the Advent’s inhabitants. “There’s a Starforge on the surface…” The AI didn’t look happy about giving over this piece of information.
Kalian half turned to the old-looking man, trying to recall images of the planet-bound Starforges. During his time in the subconducer, on Naveen, Kalian had walked the streets of Albadar and other worlds in the Terran Empire, while his mind processed an enormous amount of data, including the Terran language. He vaguely remembered seeing the forges, often the hub of the capital city on the various planets. It had been the power supply to one of these that Esabelle had accidentally destroyed upon her first breath. As the daughter of two Gomar, Esabelle had been a dangerous and uncontrollable force to be reckoned with. That catastrophic explosion had killed thousands and started a chain reaction that ultimately led to the civil war.
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