Authors: Jasper T Scott
For the first time in a long time it seemed like humanity had a chance. It seemed like they were finally safe.
But things are not always what they seem.
Hoff frowned as the
Intrepid
disappeared in the shadow of the
Valiant.
The Sythians had invaded the Adventa Galaxy with seven fleets. Just less than a whole fleet had been destroyed during the war, and the Gors had surrendered with one recently, leaving the Sythians with the equivalent of five full fleets and six surviving command cruisers. He estimated that left them with over a thousand capital-class vessels—more than enough for them to return and get their revenge. Dark Space had been a wonderful safe haven when the Sythians didn’t know where it was, but now that they did, it was a death trap. Humanity was holed up in a sector with just one way in or out. They were outnumbered and backed into a corner.
“Admiral,” Lieutenant Hanz said from the comm station.
Hoff looked over at the young man. “Yes?”
“The
Intrepid
has successfully docked, sir, and Master Commander Donali is already aboard.”
Hoff nodded. “Good. I’ll be in the operations center if anyone needs me. Deck Commander Akra—” Hoff waited for her to look up from the helm. Her pale blue eyes contrasted eerily with her honey brown complexion.
“Yes, sir?” she asked.
“You’re the acting CO. I’ll be back at 1730 hours.”
“Yes, sir,” Akra replied.
With that, Hoff stalked down the gangway to the entrance of the bridge. Heads turned, the crew watching with frowns and curious eyes as he left. The doors swished open and then shut behind him. No doubt his crew was wondering what he was going to discuss with Commander Donali, if it were important, and whether or not it affected them.
Hoff strode up to the bank of lift tubes outside the bridge and slapped the call button. He heard a quiet shuffling of feet and turned to see that two of the four sentinels standing guard at the entrance of the bridge had peeled away from the doors and were now flanking him at a discreet distance. Hoff nodded to them. Major Rekan, the ranking officer of the two, nodded back.
Turning away, he waited for the lift tubes with a frown.
Bodyguards. A necessary evil these days.
He thought back to a time when he could walk around his flagship without fearing for his life. It felt like forever ago. Those days were long gone, and they weren’t likely to return.
One of the lifts opened, and Hoff stepped inside followed by his guards. He selected the deck marked OP. The operations center was one of 12 decks inside the
Valiant’s
bridge tower, which in turn sat on top of another 142 decks. The warship over half a klick high—so big that it had to have its own gravlev train system just so that people could get from one end to the other in a timely fashion.
It was like a city in space, and it required a skeleton crew of over 10,000 officers just to keep it running properly. Unfortunately, the criminal revolt had wiped out the original crew of the
Valiant—
more than 50,000 officers, and Hoff had had to strip crews from stations and warships all over Dark Space just to get half the people he needed. To fill the rest of the ship’s skeleton crew he’d pulled newly-recruited criminals from the outlaw fleet, and he’d even allowed more than a thousand Gors to come aboard as navy sentinels and ISF (Imperial Security Forces) in training.
Hence the bodyguards. Between the Gors and the ex-cons, Hoff had to watch his back wherever he went. The irony was, though, he was more worried about the criminals than the Gors. The Gors had surrendered when they could have won, but the criminals had only done so when their backs were to the wall. That was a big part of why Hoff had agreed to have the Gors come aboard. Besides the fact that they were unparalleled soldiers and better suited to be sentinels than any human, they were the one thing that might keep the ex-cons in line.
You’d have to be a stim-baked skriff to mutiny against a ship full of Gors.
The monsters were everywhere, their heads scraping the ceiling in their glossy black armor, the glowing red optics in their helmets seeming to follow Hoff with malicious intent. Despite his rationalizations that the ex-cons were more likely to stab him in the back than the Gors, those aliens still haunted his dreams, leaving him with dark circles under his eyes, and a perpetual sense of impending doom.
This is my punishment for exterminating them at Ritan.
To Hoff’s amazement, the Gors had decided to forgive that atrocity and call it even for the trillions of humans they’d killed in the war. Hoff doubted the alien soldiers were as forgiving as they seemed, but so far none of them had tried to rip his throat out. . . . He considered that a good sign.
A golden rain of light streaked by the transpiranium sides of the lift tube as it fell past the lower decks. Hoff forced himself to stop worrying about internal threats and rather focus on what they were going to do now about the looming
external
threat of another invasion.
The lift tube stopped and the doors slid open. Hoff strode out and around a curving corridor with a wall of real viewports. His gaze wandered to the stars, taking in the bright red orb of the Firean System’s sun, and the frigid blue-white ice ball of Firea herself—the Gors home away from home. They liked the cold, the darkness, the dangerous predators and challenging prey. Gors were hunters at heart, which was ironic considering that now they’d chosen to join the hunted.
Hoff reached the broad double doors of the carrier’s operations center. He stepped up to the doors and waved his wrist over the identichip scanner to provide his credentials. The doors slid open with a
swish
and Hoff saw his XO already seated at the long rectangular table beyond. Donali rose and offered a brisk salute.
“Admiral,” he said.
“At ease, Commander. I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece.”
“I could say the same about you, sir.”
Hoff offered a tight smile and moved to the head of the glossy black table. His guards had taken up positions outside the doors, leaving them to speak in private. Pulling out his chair on the articulated arm which attached it to the deck, Hoff sat down and folded his hands on the table, taking a moment to eye his XO. Lenon Donali was a middle-aged man of about 40, though middle age was a misnomer since the average human life expectancy with good medical care was around 140 years. Nevertheless, Donali’s face was lined and his dark hair was receding noticeably at the temples. The man’s most striking feature was his artificial eye which glowed red like a Gor’s. Donali could have had a new eye grown to replace the one he’d lost, but cybernetics were far cheaper.
“Did Captain Caldin fill you in on anything that’s happened?”
Donali shook his head. “She didn’t want to speak with me. Said she wasn’t going to tell me anything until I had a full body scan. I have the feeling she doesn’t trust me.”
“I see. And why would that be, Commander?”
Donali shrugged. “She said that I could have been captured and released in the time I was gone, and she’d already been caught by that trick once. She mentioned Captain Adram. I assume from what she said that he . . .”
“He was a Sythian agent, yes.”
“Was he the source of the signal radiation we detected?”
“No. As far as I can tell, Kaon’s implant called home before Adram could give us away, but it does seem that no matter what we did we were going to give Dark Space away.”
“We never should have come.”
“Perhaps, but it’s too late now.” Hoff’s brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips. “So, are you?”
“Am I what, sir?”
“A Sythian agent.”
“Not that I know of, but would I know if I were?”
Hoff smiled. “I’m not sure how to answer that. Would you be willing to submit to a body scan?”
“I already have.”
“And? Clean I suspect.”
“Yes, but since we know that Sythians have cloaking implants . . .”
“You’re afraid that you might have one.”
“I don’t know how we could find it if I did. Perhaps you could find some way to test me yourself. . . . Tell me some particularly juicy bit of classified information and wait to see if you detect any signal radiation leaking from me.”
Hoff laughed and gave a tight smile. “Relax, Donali. We’ll have our medics run a few more tests on you to be sure, but something tells me that if you were a Sythian agent, you wouldn’t be discussing the possibility of that with me, much less giving me ideas about how I might discover you. Now, tell me what you found out about Kaon’s implant.”
“It was some type of Lifelink, sir. It stores the host’s memories and an eidetic map of their brain. I can only assume it serves the same purpose as our own Lifelinks. Add to that the fact that Kaon was a clone and it becomes even more obvious.”
“So you think the Sythians have been doing the same thing as immortal humans—copying themselves to cloned bodies in order to live forever.” Immortals were mythological beings to most people. They’d been in hiding for so long that only a few even knew of their existence, and Hoff could count those few on one hand. Hoff and Donali knew better because they
were
immortals, or at least Donali was. Hoff’s wife had recently convinced him to deactivate his Lifelink and live a normal life.
Donali nodded and his artificial eye winked in tandem with his real one. “The question is, is that specific type of immortality a natural progression for any sentient race which becomes sufficiently advanced, or is it an idea which the Sythians stole from us?”
“I wish I didn’t have the answer to that question, but I do.”
Donali cocked his head to one side, and his real eye narrowed thoughtfully. “You discovered something?”
“More than one something.”
“I’m listening.”
Hoff took a deep breath. “They didn’t steal the idea from us, Donali. They
are
us. And we are them.”
Donali slowly shook his head. “What? You’re saying I’m a Sythian?”
“Not quite. Humans are their evolutionary ancestors. Origin, the lost world where humanity supposedly began, isn’t in the Adventa Galaxy, Donali. It’s in the Getties Cluster, and its real name is Sythia.”
Donali’s jaw dropped and his real eye grew wide and round. “That’s not possible. You’re making that up.”
“I wish I were. We’re not fighting aliens at all. We’re fighting a more evolved version of the human race. A genetic experiment in longevity.” Donali’s mouth began moving, but no words came out. Hoff went on, “That’s not all. Our resident traitor, Captain Adram, was implanted with a cloaked Lifelink implant like the one we discovered in Kaon’s brain. He was, for all intents and purposes, another iteration of Kaon himself. He revealed the Enclave to the Sythians, Donali, meaning Dark Space is the last surviving refuge of humanity, and now that the Sythians know where it is, time is running out. We are facing extinction.”
Donali clamped his mouth shut and pursed his lips. After taking a long moment to process that his head jerked suddenly into a nod, as if he’d just decided something. “There is one way out, sir.”
Hoff’s eyebrows elevated slowly. “Evacuate?”
“No. Get help.”
“There is no help, Donali. We’re all alone. We’ve already recruited the Gors and the ex-cons in this sector, but it won’t be enough. Before he died, Adram told me that the Sythians are making slaves out of
us
now. In all likelihood when they return we’ll see the refugees from the Enclave, all of them turned into Sythian slaves like Adram. We’re badly outnumbered, and what’s stopping the Sythians from sending reinforcements from the Getties? Adram told me there are quintillions of them, Donali. What they sent to conquer us was probably just meant to test the waters. By a happy coincidence it was enough to wipe us out.”
Donali sighed. “It does look grim, but we aren’t alone. You’re forgetting Avilon.”
“The Immortals?” Hoff sat back in his chair and considered it.
“Why not? There are trillions of them, too. You said it yourself. And their technology is more advanced than even the Sythians’.”
“I haven’t been to Avilon in over 30,000 years. They would execute me if I went back.”
“Would they even remember you?”
“Yes. Besides, what makes you think they would help us now, after they stayed out of the entire war? If they’d wanted to help, don’t you think they would have helped when they could have saved trillions of us with their intervention rather than just the few million survivors hiding out here? No, in all likelihood they thought it was justice that the Sythians wiped us out—justice for the war we started which drove them into hiding.”
“They can’t seriously hope to stay hidden forever. The Sythians will find them.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
“Admiral.” Donali’s artificial eye bored into Hoff’s brain with the pinpoint accuracy of a laser sight. “It’s our only hope.”
Hoff spent a moment drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair before giving his reply. “I’ll give it some thought. Meanwhile, you should go hit the rack. I’ll schedule some tests in the med bay for you just to put your mind at ease.”
“All right,” Donali nodded, rising from his chair. “Ruh-kah, sir,” he said with a salute.
“Ruh-kah.”
Death and glory.
Hoff returned the salute and watched his executive officer (XO) leave the operations center. When Donali was gone he slumped back into his chair with a sigh.
Donali was right. Making an alliance with Avilon was their only hope. Failing that, perhaps the Immortal Avilonians would accept a few million refugees. . . .
Something told Hoff that even if they would, he wouldn’t make the cut.
Immortals have a long memory.
He told his family that he’d left because he could make a better life for himself in a society where he didn’t have to compete with other immortals, but the truth was he’d been forced to leave for advocating the
heresy
that people should be allowed to choose whether or not they wanted to live forever. Ultimately, he’d been forced to flee Avilon before he could be executed for his beliefs.