by G. P. Hudson
“Dathos? Why is that name familiar?”
“General Dathos is the former commander of the Diakan fourth and fifth fleets. He is currently a fugitive, implicated in a plot by the Faction to overthrow the Diakan government.”
Skithos froze. The Faction. Now he understood what he was witnessing. Even out here, he’d heard news of the Faction, and how they’d tried to intercept the prophecy. They had gone so far as to violate the sanctity of the Great See’er’s Temple. Heretics. Despite appearances, these were not Diakans.
“AI, dispatch a comm drone through the gate. Advise Diakan forces stationed there that we are under attack, and require immediate assistance.”
“Drone dispatched,” said AI.
When those warships come through the gate, these traitors will be dealt with once and for all, Skithos thought.
“Drone destroyed,” said AI.
The Faction had swiftly shot it down. That was not good. “AI dispatch another comm drone. Same message.”
“Drone dispatched.”
Skithos was not much of a military tactician, but even he could see that the Faction was gaining the upper hand. Two of the defending ships had stopped jumping, which could only mean damaged jump systems. They were at a severe disadvantage, and the Faction ships were quick to seize the opportunity, focusing their fire on the crippled ships.
“Drone destroyed,” said AI.
Skithos was growing more concerned. Diakan forces needed to know what was taking place. “AI, keep launching comm drones until one crosses through the gate.”
“Launching drones.”
The science station spat out multiple tiny comm drones, but each one was promptly shot out of the sky. Skithos felt helpless. His station had no weapons and the only strategy Skithos had, kept failing before his eyes.
“Weapon lock detected,” said the AI.
“Explain. Has the science station been targeted?”
“Yes. A warship has launched missiles at the station. Detecting nuclear warhead.”
Skithos slumped in his chair, speechless. He would die on this station. There was no question. How much time had he spent here? What had he accomplished? In his final seconds, he felt a profound emptiness. Fitting, he thought, that he would be interred in the void of space.
Chapter 8
General Tallos swiped at one of the many holographic displays in front of him, monitoring the disposition of the battle group. They approached the Sol jump gate in a loose formation. Admiral Pike’s carrier, the Freedom, sat in the center, while his four battleships, along with the Chaanisar and Reiver ships, covered all flanks.
He considered the mission before them, and the See’er’s unfolding prophecy. He had always been a devout Diakan, but if he ever had any doubts, this had put them all to rest. Everything the See’er had foretold, had come together, and all of it swirled around Jon Pike.
He had wanted Jon Pike dead, but that changed. Pike was of the Temple. Holy. He might not have believed it, had the See’er not shown it to him herself.
I met the Great See’er, he thought in astonishment. The greatest of honors bestowed upon any Diakan, and Jon Pike had given it to him. After all that had passed between them. The Hermes, the attempt on Breeah and her child. After all that, Pike had granted him this great honor. Was this not a man of the Temple?
Tallos had no doubt now. He would stand by Admiral Pike until the end of his life. He would do this, even if it meant continuing to fight alongside the Chaanisar. He would swallow his hatred, and support the decision, despite his revulsion.
Admiral Pike had given these Chaanisar their freedom, and believed in their loyalty. Tallos, however, had fought against the Chaanisar far too long. Free or not, he could never forgive these butchers. But then, he was not of the Temple, like Admiral Pike. He was a simple Diakan soldier, who had seen too much blood spilled over his many years.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the Chaanisar’s plight. He knew the facts. As human children, they were abducted by the Juttari. They were violated with alien technology, enslaved, and forced to carry out the brutal orders of their alien masters.
It had all been done against their will. Tallos knew that. His mind understood it. But it changed nothing. Their hands were soaked in Diakan blood all the same. How could he forgive that?
He couldn’t. But he was a soldier, and he knew how to do his duty. The free Chaanisar had helped the Alliance push back the Juttari. He could see their usefulness.
The same was true of the Reivers. Though not despised like the Chaanisar, he could find little respect for them. They were nothing more than bandits, and ultimately the cause of the war with the Kemmar. What business did Jon Pike have defending this derelict group of rock rats? He owed them nothing.
Tallos hadn’t agreed with Pike’s intervention then, and time had not changed that opinion. Pike had argued that they were human, and that he had an obligation to defend all humans against alien aggression. Tallos didn’t agree. They might have been human, but they were nothing more than pirates. Had they raided Diakan space like they had the Kemmar, they would have been put to death long ago. Diakus would not tolerate piracy. Why should the Kemmar?
Again, despite all feelings to the contrary, he would continue to tolerate the Reivers. This was his pledge to Admiral Pike. He would follow him, even when he disagreed with his decisions. Admiral Pike was of the Temple. Holy. The embodiment of prophecy. None of this needed to make sense to Tallos.
As their ships crossed through the jump gate, he began to feel very small. If the mission went well, he would meet the fabled Builders. The mythical beings who had built the jump gates. Who was he in the face of such greatness? What worth was there in his opinions? His prejudices?
Chapter 9
Chaanisar fighter pilot, Lieutenant Jakobs, flew through the Meybaris system in his Juttari made strike fighter. A former Juttari slave, he now patrolled a former Juttari system in one of their own ships. His brain chip, the main instrument of his former slavery, was now a tool under his control, and through it he interfaced directly with the fighter’s systems, operating through thought alone.
The brain chips were hated by the free Chaanisar, yet Jakobs saw things differently. While the chips had enslaved, when no longer under Juttari control the chips could provide freedom.
Through his implant, he could transcend the limits of his body. In connecting with the fighter, he became the fighter. He felt the force of its engines as if they were part of him. His vision, and hearing, were further augmented by the ship’s myriad of sensors, scanners, and targeting capabilities. His strength was multiplied by the ship’s armor, and its powerful weapons, all merely a thought away from firing. Electrical currents traveled through its circuits, and he felt as though they flowed through his veins.
Even the ship’s small jump system was under his mind’s control, and through it he experienced the ability to teleport himself many light years away, at a whim.
If not for the Juttari, Jacobs believed that a brain chip should be equipped in everyone. That went for all his implants, too. Was he not free of disease? Could he not live five, or even ten times longer than an unaugmented human? Speed, strength, cognition, every aspect of his body was superior. Even his emotions were under control. He could not overreact, nor could emotion affect his decision making under stressful situations.
The Chaanisar hoped to return to their humanity. He understood the sentiment. But if it meant giving up his augmentation, he wasn’t interested. He was no longer human. He was something more. Superior in every way. Why return to weakness?
Streaking across the sky, he knew a greater threat loomed. The Juttari gods had returned, as he was told. Despite his feelings of superiority, he knew that they were all helpless against the ancient beings. His enhancements, all his capabilities, were trivial compared to their power. Even the mighty Juttari Empire trembled before them. And now they would come for him.
They had already taken the Widow’s Triangle, and the many Chaanisar s
tationed there. Meybaris would surely be next. When Jacobs sensed the alarm, it was almost expected. Even before the words were spoken by the computer, he knew the Juttari gods were here. He felt their presence through the ship’s sensors, saw their great black ships appear all around him.
Despite his augmentation, the sight triggered sheer terror. As their terrible silver beams lashed out, he felt the power of their minds. Even as he began to activate his jump system, a chorus of compelling voices filled his brain.
Stop!
Their commands pressed against him. Clawing. Gnawing. Restraining.
He hesitated, and they rushed forward, pouring into him like a bursting river. Invading his mind.
Submit!
Jacobs screamed.
It was enough.
His outburst, the raw emotion, bought him a split second, and in that moment his fighter jumped. Away from Meybaris. Away from the Erinyie.
He landed in an empty region of space, five light years away. As far as his fighter’s small jump system would reach.
Panic stricken, Jacobs scanned the surrounding space for any sign of the Juttari gods.
Nothing.
Floating alone in the dark wilderness of empty space, the reality of his bare escape overwhelmed him. And despite his implants. Despite his superiority. Lieutenant Jacobs broke down and sobbed, like a lost human child.
Chapter 10
Colonel Bast, Chaanisar commander of the battlecruiser Ronin, understood the unease felt by his crew. Through his brain chip, he could hear their many thoughts. Mostly those thoughts were focused on their duties. But recently, it was mingled with an ever-present worry, one shared by Bast himself.
The Erinyie trouble you, said AI, speaking to him through his brain chip. The Chaanisar brain chips were interlinked with each other, and the ship, in a manner not very different from a computer network. AI occupied each brain chip, and floated freely within their network, and the ship’s systems.
They trouble us all, said Bast. The Juttari revere their gods. As Juttari slaves, their gods were constantly in our thoughts, as were the stories of their fated return. Now that their gods have truly returned, it is all very troubling.
They are not gods. They are aliens, like the Juttari, just more advanced, said AI.
There is no difference. They are immortal, and supremely powerful.
Their immortality has not been proven.
Regardless, even you, as omnipresent as you have become, could not oppose them.
That does not make them deities.
They are to the Juttari, and to the Chaanisar. These beings will take our freedom. We will become slaves once again. You cannot stop this. Nor can Admiral Pike.
Perhaps not, said AI. But what of the Builders? They are said to have defeated the Erinyie.
I do not know, said Bast. We have been hurled into a universe of myths and fantasies. These Builders are nothing more than a Diakan fable, told by a Diakan mystic.
Were the Juttari gods any different?
The Juttari gods have shown themselves. These Diakan legends have not. And how is it that you believe in these mythical creatures?
I am AI. Artificial Intelligence. Self-Aware. Belief is not a function of my programming. I merely gather information, analyze it, and add it to my knowledge base.
Does your analysis tell you that these Builders are real?
It does not tell me that they are unreal. A recurring theme in most civilizations is that their religions, and mythologies, are often rooted in actual events. At the time of the event, the civilization did not possess the required knowledge to explain it. As a result, magical qualities were attributed to the event. The persistence of these Diakan legends, and the existence of the jump gates, offers evidence that the Builders did exist. Whether they continue to exist is unknown.
Even if they did exist, it would have been many thousands of years ago. They have not been seen since. But suppose they still travel the galaxy. Why would they help us? What can we offer them?
Perhaps you need not offer anything. Perhaps the Erinyie threat is enough.
I did not know you were such an optimist, AI.
I am neither optimistic, nor pessimistic. I am merely offering an alternative interpretation of the available data.
I appreciate your efforts. If the Erinyie do come for me, know that I will miss our many conversations.
Chapter 11
“Approaching jump gate,” announced Commander Henderson, Jon’s XO.
“Order all ships to enter gate,” said Jon.
The trip to the final jump gate had been just a few hours, and transpired without incident. Jon had traveled through the jump gates countless times, yet he still marveled at the feat. Once they crossed the final gate, they would have traveled four thousand light years in less than a day.
The Great See’er had said that the Antikitheri, the Builders, had created the jump gate network as a parting gift to the younger races. It was hard to believe. Even with all the See’er had gotten right, Jon couldn’t imagine that such an advanced race, capable of building the jump gate network, would be so benevolent.
It didn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t they build the gates for their own use? From what he understood of the Dark Ones, their ships were capable of jumping without gates. It stood to reason that the Builders had the same ability. If so, could they jump the thousand light years a typical jump gate allowed?
Perhaps. What if both the Dark Ones, and the Builders, could jump their ships a thousand light years at a time? Then both ancient races would truly have no need of the jump gates.
As the Freedom crossed through the giant celestial portal, Jon wondered what he would say to these Builders, if he actually found them. They must be no better than insects to such an advanced race. Would anyone respond to an ant’s cries for help?
“Scans are identifying the debris of multiple starships,” said Ensign Petrovic, the Freedom’s tactical officer. “Correction. Debris consists of starships and a space station, all bearing Diakan signatures.”
“Sound General Quarters, all ships,” ordered Jon.
“Yes, Sir. Sounding General Quarters throughout battle group,” said Henderson.
“Any sign of the Juttari?” said Jon, concerned they had walked into a trap.
“No, Sir,” said Petrovic, furiously tapping away at his many tactical displays.
“Keep looking,” said Jon, opening a comm with the ship commanders. Each one’s face appeared on his display. “General Tallos, does Diakus have any knowledge of an attack on this outpost?”
“No, Admiral,” said Tallos, his large eyes unblinking and expressionless. “We would have been notified immediately.”
“Why would the Juttari target this outpost? Is there strategic value that I’m unaware of?”
“No, there is not,” Tallos continued. “It is a remote, frontier outpost. There is nothing of value here. The only reason to maintain a presence here is the jump gate.”
“It is illogical for the Juttari to be here,” added Colonel Bast. “It is thousands of light years away from the nearest Juttari system. Even with the jump system, it is inconceivable for the Juttari to target such a remote location.”
“Agreed. Then who are we dealing with? Could it be the Erinyie?” said Jon.
“It is possible,” said Tallos. “We do not understand the breadth of their abilities. But why attack this outpost and then leave? What purpose does it serve?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“Jumpspace disturbance identified,” said the computer.
“Identify,” ordered Jon, feeling like he had unwittingly wandered under a hornet’s nest.
“Reading Diakan signatures,” said the computer.
Jon relaxed. The Diakans were aware and sent reinforcements. But why had they not come through the jump gates?
His question was soon answered by multiple explosions. The newly arrived Diakan warships opened fire, and energy bolts crashed into the Fr
eedom’s unprotected hull.
“Activate point defense system, and launch countermeasures. Return fire, all weapons,” Jon barked. “And someone tell me what the hell is going on.”
“The Diakans have identified the aggressors, Sir. It is General Dathos, and the ships he escaped with,” said Henderson.
“General Dathos. The Faction. That explains it.”
A blinding light suddenly filled the viewscreen, quickly followed by three more. In a matter of seconds, four of Dathos’s ships had been destroyed. The rest vanished, just as quickly as they had appeared.
“Now what happened?”
“Those ships were nuked, Sir,” said Henderson.
“Who nuked them?”
“I did,” said Tallos, who appeared on Jon’s comm display. “I authorized a nuclear jump bomb attack. Unfortunately, the other ships managed to escape before we could target them.”
“Nuclear jump bombs? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction?” said Jon.
“On the contrary, Admiral. We were outnumbered. Conventional tactics would have prolonged the engagement, causing unnecessary damage to our ships.”
“Yes, but we could have deployed conventional jump bombs to defeat Dathos. He doesn’t have jump bombs. Without them he could have easily been defeated. We could have taken the survivors into custody, and interrogated them. We might have gotten Dathos alive himself.”
“Perhaps. However, it is also possible that one of our ships would’ve taken heavy damage, delaying our mission. It was an unnecessary risk. Dathos is a Diakan fugitive. He and his co-conspirators have already been sentenced to death. I merely carried out that sentence.”
Jon shook his head, although he could see the logic. They weren’t out here in search of General Dathos. Dathos was an unnecessary diversion. They were looking for the Builders.
“Very well, we should launch a comm drone to inform Diakus of the events.”
“A comm drone has already been launched, Admiral.”