by Paul Tassi
Alpha walked past Lucas and Asha and twirled his metal claw, then stretched out the fingers.
“Additionally, in extremely rare cases, Shadows have exhibited psionic abilities. This development is recent, and we barely understand it.”
“Psionic abilities?” Lucas asked.
“What do you call them in your language? Telekinesis, telepathy. In small amounts, but it’s only been recorded in a handful of Shadows, all of which were quickly scurried off to covert operations before anyone could study the mutation.”
“Does Omicron have these powers?”
Alpha shook his head.
“Not that I have heard. If he truly was one of the first, or the first Shadow as he claims, that mutation was still two generations away.”
“How old is he exactly?” Asha asked.
“I would say he’s approaching 450 cycles. Or the equivalent of six hundred of your years. But do not let his age fool you; he is still exceptionally dangerous.”
Asha and Lucas looked at each other.
“Alpha, how old are you?”
It was an obvious question neither of them ever thought to ask until now.
“Two hundred and fifteen Earth years. No, two hundred and sixteen. Time has been difficult to keep track of as of late.”
The pair was stone-faced.
“Ah yes, I forgot you endure short lifespans on Earth. What is it, a hundred?”
“More like eighty,” said Asha.
“Simple advances in medicine can double that. Complex procedures can extend life even further. These days, most Xalans live to be around five hundred. Shadows, quite a bit longer.”
Asha and Lucas contemplated what they’d heard. Alpha continued.
“If you will excuse me, I must finish work on this corruption algorithm. Perfection takes time.”
The conversation shook Lucas up a bit as it reminded him exactly how over his head he was in this whole situation. As if space travel hadn’t been enough, now he had genetically altered psionic monsters to deal with, too. He felt like a medieval knight being tossed into battle with a Navy SEAL squadron centuries in the future. But in this case, the gap was untold millennia. How the hell would he survive this?
But here he was, one of the only three humans left from Earth. He chalked it up to luck and blind chance, but maybe Asha was right. Maybe he’d earned his spot here. He’d survived bloody battle after bloody battle and had only a few scars to show for it. What others who may have been considered Earth’s greatest warriors were now left stranded on the slow-cooking rock. But if they’d come across Alpha and his ship, wouldn’t they have just killed and eaten him on the spot? Perhaps Lucas had overlooked one of his most important qualities, restraint.
Asha was something else entirely. There was a savvy about her, a will to survive that superseded all else. And yet, she still managed to hang on to her humanity unlike so many of the bloodthirsty left on Earth. She was an all-consuming inferno when she needed to be, but could bring herself down to mere embers in quieter times. Her recent brush with insanity was driven by love, not hate. She had passion in a world without hope. It was . . . strange to see.
Alpha was perhaps the biggest mystery of the three. He was like them now, a creature without a family or a world. His relatives were slaughtered by his own people, and after being branded a traitor to his planet for refusing brutality, Alpha was now being hunted across the galaxy. His only refuge was the very civilization his race had been trying to destroy for thousands of years. Through all of it however, he had kept a cool head. There was always a fix for each problem, an answer for each question. Logic was his salvation, though Lucas wondered what sadness and rage brewed beneath his gray skin with all he’d been through.
Poor little Noah had to grow up in this insanity. Lucas supposed it was better than a cannibal nursery, but the risk of death seemed to loom greater onboard the ship. They’d barely escaped the solar system in one piece, and now they were charging straight into another risky venture. Lord only knew what they might find if they ever reached Sora. With the planet’s history with Xala, Lucas couldn’t be sure their menacing ship wouldn’t be destroyed immediately, without a question asked. And what was the alternative? Assured extermination by genetic supercreature Omicron. Quite the array of available options.
Suddenly, a voice rang out through the water chamber where Lucas had been gathering his thoughts.
“It is time.”
18
When they deactivated the core, Lucas sat in the captain’s chair. He was responsible for maneuvering the Ark into Alpha’s designated position. They were arriving at the refueling station’s star system a day early in order to start bombarding them with the fake solar storm Alpha had concocted. Should they show up at the exact moment the scrambling started, it would obviously be suspicious. Alpha deemed that a day would give them a reasonable window without letting Omicron gain too much ground.
The glowing lights of the space-time tunnel slowly faded, and the ship made a loud noise that sounded like someone powering down a colossal vacuum cleaner. Soon, stars began to reappear in the viewscreen, arranged in formations Lucas had never seen.
As he veered the ship around to the newly plotted course, Lucas saw the central body of the system, a star burning an unfamiliar bronze color. A brown dwarf, Lucas remembered from his limited time in astronomy in school. It was smaller than their own sun and governed over a system that had no natural life at all, like so many billions of others that lay just as desolate, according to Alpha.
The sun grew larger and larger as Lucas raced toward it, until finally he saw his primary target. A small ashen planet not even the Xalans had bothered naming. It hung there, motionless, and as Lucas approached he saw that its gray surface was peppered by craters. They would begin their electronic assault from orbit around the scorched rock. The station circled a more distant planet on the other side of the star, but Alpha was confident his signal would travel the necessary distance. Once the ship was locked into its rotation, Alpha started broadcasting the faux solar storm out into the ether. In Lucas’s monitor, the signal was visualized as a pulsating sphere, and a few minutes later its color changed and a readout indicated the disruption had found its intended target. The fuel station’s sensor systems were going haywire.
For the next few hours, Lucas stared at the sun, shaded to a safe visible spectrum by the viewscreen. He was tired of training, both virtual and physical, and the celestial body allowed him a peace he hadn’t managed to find in a long while. Once again, he quietly marked a milestone for humankind, the first of his species to reach another solar system. Too bad he wouldn’t get a parade if he ever returned.
In the distance, another planet loomed. The sphere was bright blue, but Alpha told him not to mistake it for water. It was purely gaseous and of no use to anyone. There were only five planets in the system and the fuel depot orbited the one furthest from the central star. Being stationed in such a desolate place was undoubtedly not the most prestigious military assignment, and Lucas could only hope the soldiers there were foolish enough to believe Alpha’s tricks.
On the monitor, the scientist was tinkering with the core, making sure it had powered down correctly and would be able to reactivate once they made their escape. Asha, meanwhile, had finally been granted access to her beloved armory, and was busy scurrying away weapons into locked storage bins in case the ship was searched. Each of their respective living quarters had been stripped of the books, furniture, clothing, and mattresses, all hidden away in various parts of the craft. It looked as it had the day they’d come aboard.
The plan was for the human trio to hide inside the inner wall of the armory, should the ship warrant a walkthrough by the creatures. Noah rarely cried, but soon he would have to remain as silent as could be, and Alpha debated sedating him for the duration of the mission.
Later that day, while they were busy removing the panel where they were to hide, Alpha appeared in the armory with one final directive.
“There is an additional complication.”
There always seemed to be one.
“Readings indicate that there is a [garbled] class cruiser parked at the station that is currently being repaired.”
“And how big is that?” Asha asked.
“Smaller than the ship we encountered on Earth, but much larger than this vessel, and one equipped with a full squadron of functional fighters.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” said Lucas.
“It is not. It means after refueling, we will have to destroy the station and the ship to ensure our escape. We are out of [garbled] missiles and the main gun remains offline, but even if this were not the case, Xalan fighters would shred this transport, even with the added maneuverability of the new core.”
Alpha projected a hologram of a sleek-looking ship that dodged and weaved in space. A fighter. Lucas recognized it from his time spent in the simulation he had yet to master. Alpha wasn’t joking when he said they were far more maneuverable. They packed a hell of a punch as well. The fighters’ weapon systems easily outclassed what they had available on the transport.
“What happened to smooth talking our way into the fuel station, and leaving here in peace?”
Alpha shook his head.
“Repairs have already begun on the station’s sensors to combat the alleged solar storm. The scrambling may prove effective by the time we arrive, but I am no longer certain their equipment will remain jammed for the duration of our stay in the system. We must make . . . contingencies.”
Alpha began walking through the piles of weapon-filled boxes, looking for something. When he found it, Lucas recognized the container immediately.
“You son of a bitch. I knew you were lying.”
Alpha dragged the locked crate into the center of the room.
“I have indeed kept something from you.”
Asha rolled her eyes.
“What else is new?”
Lucas couldn’t bother spending more than a second being annoyed.
“Alright, so what’s in it if it’s not above your ‘clearance level’ after all?”
Alpha typed a complex code into the lock, and the container hissed as it opened. Inside, the box was ray shielded, the way the prison cells had been, but Lucas recognized a symbol through the light barrier immediately. The yellow-and-black circle was unmistakable.
“Tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Lucas said breathlessly.
“It is a nuclear device of human creation.”
Asha’s eyes weren’t rolling anymore, and were wide open instead.
“You mean to tell me I’ve been sleeping in the same room as a nuclear bomb this entire time?” she said angrily.
“The container has contained all harmful radiation. Even now, we are being shielded from its effects by the [garbled] screen,” Alpha said
“What the hell are you doing with a nuke?” Asha asked.
Alpha played with some controls on the box. Lucas recognized the Xalan word for “stable.”
“I came across it in my travels. A human underwater military vessel had been beached a few miles inland. I salvaged the important parts from one of its warheads, as I figured it might be of use at some point in the future, perhaps even as a power source. Though I did not imagine this would be its function.”
“You want to blow up the station . . . with a nuke you took from a submarine?” Lucas said slowly.
“It is the only way. We simply do not have the firepower to bring down the station or its docked ship ourselves.”
“This is insane,” Asha said. Coming from her, that was saying something. But she was right.
“What exactly happens when you detonate a nuke in space?” asked Lucas.
“The same thing that happens when you detonate it on land. But in silence.”
Was that Alpha’s version of a joke?
“And what about us?”
“At that point, we must be a safe distance away, or we will share a similar fate.”
Lucas’s head was swimming with this added “complication” that involved the use of the most powerful weapon mankind had ever created. Alpha continued.
“We must move this downstairs and prepare for departure. We should arrive at the station in a few hours time.”
He closed the lid of the nuke container. They all breathed a little easier.
It was dark. The only light came from the cracks in the wall and the soft blue glow of the communicator Lucas clutched in his hand. Asha was cradling a sleeping Noah, who had in fact been sedated for the good of the mission and would be out for hours. There was almost no space inside the armory wall and Lucas was pressed up against the metal and Asha like a sardine. The sooner this was over, the better.
Alpha had to be the one to pilot the ship into the station, and had promised to keep them posted through the communicator. His brainwaves were now translated not through the speaker on his collar, but through the remote device, meaning he could speak to them from afar, and the other Xalans would be none the wiser. Additionally, he believed that as he processed what the others said to him, he could relay that through the communicator as well, allowing the pair of them to hear the conversations he had with the station’s soldiers. The downside of all this was that they had no covert way of communicating back to him that wouldn’t draw suspicion, and he had simply ordered them to obey his commands to the letter.
Lucas brought up a tiny monitor from the communicator that showed Alpha’s viewscreen. They were approaching a dark planet and Lucas could barely make out what appeared to be the station a short distance ahead. It looked like a much larger version of the Sentinel orbiters from Earth, with a more robust center and spindly arms branching out from all sides of it. Alpha made his first attempt at contact.
“Come in [garbled] station. This is transport 1138-19455 requesting permission to dock and refuel.”
Silence.
“Come in [garbled] station. This is transport 1138-19455 requesting permission to dock and refuel.”
Silence.
“Come in . . .”
Alpha was interrupted by a burst of static. A fuzzy image of a creature appeared on the viewscreen, but the feed was distorted, as was the audio.
“Copy, 1138. This is [garbled] we read [static]. We are [static] having difficulties with a [static] storm.”
Alpha replied.
“Yes, I am having similar issues. Permission to dock and come aboard to speak in person?”
“[static] granted. Why is a [static] all the way [static] here?”
“It is difficult to understand your transmission. I will speak to you onboard shortly.”
“Copy.”
Alpha guided the ship toward the station, which was much, much larger than it looked from a distance. It was now clear why it would take a nuke to destroy it. A few minutes later, a loud clank indicated they’d docked. Alpha spoke directly to them through the communicator.
“Scrambling appears to be intact. If readers were functional, my identity and your presence would be known. All is normal. Stay where you are.”
Lucas flipped the monitor’s view to show Alpha walking down to the port side of the ship. Alpha tapped a few controls and the airlock slid open. A pair of unarmored creatures stood in the doorframe. They were right next to the nuclear crate, which Alpha had placed in the entryway earlier. The taller of the creatures spoke first.
“Greetings Captain, apologies for the technical difficulties. This storm is one of the largest we have seen in years, and it was not in any of our forecasts.”
“No apology necessary,” Alpha said. “I know how unstable the [garbled] system can be. My cousin was stationed here two decades ago and complained often of such things.”
“That was before my time,” the tall one said. The short one looked around the ship curiously then spoke.
“What is a transport doing in such a remote sector? And where is your crew?”
Alpha took a deep breath.
; “It is fortunate this station is still in operation, or I fear I may have been left drifting forever. I am part of the crew of a recovery vessel sent to Earth.” Alpha presented some sort of chip, which the tall creature scanned. After he did so, he immediately stood at attention.
“Sorry sir, I was not aware of your rank,” he said. Alpha had forged himself a convincing identity.
“Earth?” the other creature was skeptical. “We have not seen any returning ships from Earth in a few years now.”
“I am aware. My mission was of the utmost secrecy. We were sent to retrieve an artifact from the planet that would aid in the war effort.” Alpha motioned to the locked nuclear crate on the ground next to them.
“What is it?” the tall one asked, lightly kicking the box with his claw.
“It is above my clearance to know, and certainly above yours as well.”
“Errr, yes sir. Apologies.”
“I was sent here from my [garbled] class ship, which is stranded a few sectors away. We took heavy asteroid damage during our departure, and the ship leaked fuel to the point where it could travel no further and communications are down. They equipped this transport with the [garbled] core in the hopes that I might return with fuel and assistance.”
The shorter one spoke.
“You are running a [garbled] core in this transport? Is such a thing even possible?”
“My commander is . . . talented with such things.”
“And who is your commander exactly?”
“That is classified,” Alpha said calmly.
“Of course, sir, but we will need to verify this with central.”
The tall one spoke into his comm.