Galaxy Under Siege

by Tristan Vick

  “How can I help?” Karina asked.

  Brei was short for a Dagon woman, so she assumed Karina must be large for an Earth female, because Jegra had told her that most Earth males were the larger of the sexes. But both Jegra and Karina were larger than any of the males in attendance. This made Brei curious as to whether or not the human species carried an Alpha female gene, like her own species did.

  Jennica had been an Alpha female. Danica, back when she was Cassera, had also been an Alpha female type. But Brei’Alas was just your average looking Dagon woman—only, in her case, a woman with hidden talents.

  She smiled at the offer. “Thank you, Madam President. But I’m sure we can handle it.” When she saw the disheartened look on Karina’s face, she reached out a blue hand and placed it on her shoulder. “On second thought, it’s probably better if I keep you in the loop of what’s going on. Come with me.”

  Karina smiled and followed Brei out of the dining hall.

  “WHAT DO WE HAVE?” LIANICA Blackstar asked as she stepped onto the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Barrion turned to the captain to find an entire entourage of senior officers shuffle in behind her.

  He had nearly forgotten about the evening’s dinner party. After the last one, he felt it best to keep a low profile. Even though most of the crew was completely unaware of what had transpired, thanks to Brei’Alas resetting time, there were still enough people who knew what had happened for him to feel a sense of shame over it.

  He realized it wasn’t his fault, seeing as The Voice was nearly impossible to resist. So far, only Dakroth and Jegra seemed to be immune to her influences. And it was Jegra and Brei’Alas who’d intervened on his behalf. Something he was eternally grateful for.

  “It’s Aldebaran, ma’am. It wasn’t destroyed. In fact, our long-range scans are showing that it’s behaving...oddly.”

  “Define oddly,” Lianica said.

  “It’s better if I just show you.”

  Barrion activated the onboard telefield array. It was a direct link to a network of spy satellites littered throughout the Dagon Empire. Of course, the array was set up under the pretense of astronomical research. Using one of the telescopes closest to Aldebaran, he brought up the image on the screen and zoomed in.

  “What’s it doing?” Jegra asked as she peered at the screen. The ring world was rotating around the fledgling black hole in a strange, unpredictable manner. On close inspection, though, it did seem to have a pattern about its gyration and sudden pivots.

  “The ring world has become stuck in a bistable state,” Barrion answered.

  Jegra looked at him as though that didn’t help answer her question. She turned to Lianica.

  “Basically, there’s no gravity in space, so if there are equal and opposite forces, the object will continually flip between the two states of inertia.”

  “And that’s why it’s gyrating and flipping around like that?”

  A bright flash forced the entire bridge crew to cover their eyes, and when they looked back out, there were two ring worlds, one slightly larger than Aldebaran, undulating in an inverse bistable rotation.

  “Uh...what just happened?” Karina asked.

  They all looked to find that Brei’Alas had brought the president aboard the bridge. Although not protocol, Lianica allowed it, gesturing with a wave for them to come join her.

  Barrion checked his scans. “It’s...also Aldebaran. Just a different version...from a different timeline.

  Another bright flash forced them to wince once more, and when their vision readjusted, there were now three different sized ring worlds nested together in a massive spinning armillary.

  “Impossible,” Barrion said, checking his readings again, just to be sure.

  “What is it?” Lianica asked.

  “The ring worlds are using the blackhole as an energy source. And they seem to be charging up.”

  “Charging up?” Brei’Alas gulped nervously. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jegra said. She turned to Lianica and gave her a look that seemed to be asking what their next move was.

  Lianica scanned the worried faces of her crew. She knew that every mission had its own set of challenges, especially when facing the great unknown. But she’d never faced anything like this before. Regardless, part of being a commander was making the best decision she could given the information available to her, even when that information was inadequate at best.

  “I think we should—”

  “You all look so serious,” a voice came over the viewscreen. Everyone turned to find a young man, no older than fifteen, sitting upon a golden throne in a lavish throne room. He gazed back at them with eerie, obsidian eyes, although he did not look Nyctan. Rather, he had pale blue skin, like the clearest of blue lagoons, and Dagon features, including their species’ trademark elfin-tipped ears.

  Jegra stepped forward, making it known she was the one in charge of the situation. “It was my plan to blow your world up,” she informed the young man. “If anyone is to blame, it falls squarely on my shoulders.”

  “That’s very noble of you, mother.”

  Everyone looked at Jegra, shocked by the realization that this was her child. A child born a mere thirteen months ago.

  “How is he that old?” Barrion asked.

  “Time displacement,” Brei stated, addressing his question. “All three Aldebarans exist in different timelines. That’s the only logical explanation.”

  “Then how can we see them?” Karina asked. She looked clueless, but Earth technology was still far behind even the most rudimentary star-faring species. Still, she was smart enough to grasp the concepts.

  “It seems,” Lianica relayed, “they are using the immense gravity well of the black hole as a kind of wormhole.”

  Karina scanned everyone’s faces, searching for the slightest clue as to what all this meant. “So, they’re traveling from the past and the future to meet at the present? But why?”

  “Indeed,” Jegra said, looking up at the young man who was studying his gold painted nails, apparently out of a state of sheer boredom. “Why are you bringing all three worlds into the present?”

  “Ah!” the boy said, leaping up. “I thought you’d never ask.” The young godchild walked over to one of the massive windows of his empty ship and pointed out at the vista. “Do you see that?” he asked. All they could see was a darkness filled with black orbs. “This is the future that awaits us all.”

  “It’s full of nothingness,” Jegra answered.

  “Exactly. And I designed this ring world, what you people call Aldebaran, as a prototype world that could harness the power of black holes and continue life—even beyond the death of the known universe.”

  “You want to repopulate the future with remnants of the past?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I want to send ring worlds into the past, using the black holes of the future, as they touch every point in space and time.”

  “To do what, exactly?” Brei asked timidly. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know the answer, but since everyone was thinking it, she felt obligated to ask.

  “Why, to rule the universe ad infinitum, of course,” the young H’aaztre said with a sinister grin parting his lips. A halo of gold flashed upon his obsidian eyes and sent shivers down everyone’s spines. “What’s the matter, mother? I can tell by the look on your face that you’re worried. Was it something I said?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said. “You have no right to call me that. You’re not my son.”

  “But you are my biological mother, are you not?” The boy asked the question with so much credulity that it broke Jegra’s heart to have to reply.

  “I am. But any hope of raising a loving, compassionate human being is long gone. The child that would have been can never be, and so doesn’t exist.”

  The young boy looked puzzled for a moment, then he smiled. “I see what you mean. I suppose it was a tad bit cruel to take this vessel so early. But
you see, time waits for no one. Not even for a god like me.” He shrugged as if there was nothing that could be done about it and went back to staring at them with his dark creepy eyes and wicked smile

  “Is that what you are?” Brei asked. “A god?”

  Jegra turned to her and was surprised to find that little, meager Brei was feeling all the indignation that Jegra also felt, but was having trouble suppressing it to the same degree Jegra had managed.

  Her fists balled up tight, Brei’Alas took a step forward. Her eyes fixated on the young man. That’s when Jegra noticed her nose begin to bleed.

  “Not now,” Jegra said, placing a hand on Brei’s shoulder. All of a sudden Brei let out a huge breath of air as if she’d been holding it and began panting.

  “But you see, time waits for no one. Not even for a god like me,” H’aaztre repeated. He paused a moment, frowning slightly as he seemed to be running through different timelines in his mind. Looking back up, he raised a curious eyebrow. “That wasn’t from the black hole’s time distortion. Did you just...” he began asking. But by the look on her face he knew it to be true. “Impressive. The ability to control time is a rare and valuable gift. Even so, you’re limited in scope and can only manipulate the time around you by hours. Possibly days...depending on your skill level. Certainly nothing for me to be concerned about.”

  “Maybe you should be...” Jegra added at the last minute. “After all, your generals are dropping like flies. You might want to up your game.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” he chastised. “Getting cocky at the eleventh hour is not very prudent, mother dearest.”

  The boy squinted at Jegra menacingly and then smiled in the most pleasant of ways, his eyes going from a narrow gaze to a joyful squint. “Anyway, it’s been fun catching up. Let’s do it again sometime.”

  The viewscreen went black and another bright flash blinded those on the bridge. When they could finally look again, they found the space being broadcast on the monitor completely empty. Nothing was there. Not even the black hole.

  Lianica turned to Barrion. “Where did it go?”

  “Unknown, Captain,” he said, studying the readouts of the various screens that made up the science station. “It’s the correct coordinates but, it seems, Aldebaran has completely vanished.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but how in the world do you people expect to fight someone with near omnipotent powers?” Karina asked. She looked to Jegra and then Lianica, hoping that one of them had an idea.

  “That’s a good question,” Lianica said. She turned to Jegra, hoping Jegra might have a more suitable answer.

  Jegra’s eyes panned across the room before eventually returning to Karina. “There’s no such thing as God with a capital G. But there may be a god,” she replied.

  “I don’t follow,” Karina said.

  “As a scientist, you of all people understand that ‘God’ is simply a construct of human imagination and superstition. H’aaztre is nothing more than an ancient, highly advanced alien. It’s Clarke’s Law.”

  “Whose what?" Brei asked.

  “Arthur C. Clarke. He said something like: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. I’d assume that the alien beings who created such technology would appear to us as gods.”

  “That doesn’t seem to make things any easier for us,” Brei said, folding her arms.

  “No. But it takes his power over us down a notch; he’s not omnipotent. In fact, I highly doubt he was the first advanced being in existence or, for that matter, the last. There must be others out there. Beings so ancient that they’d seem like gods even to someone as technologically advanced as H’aaztre.”

  “So, let me see if I’m understanding you correctly. You want us to enlist help?” Brei’Alas asked in all seriousness, her amber eyes fixing onto Jegra’s brown ones. “From a god?”

  “Something like that,” Jegra said with a wry smile.

  “Why do I get the feeling she’s not telling us everything?” Barrion asked, leaning over to whisper into Brei’s ear. She turned and smiled at him then looked back at the empress.

  “And where do you expect to find such a being?” Lianica asked. “Our allobiological database doesn’t contain any alien species with the incredible lifespan or abilities that H’aaztre seems to exhibit.”

  “Maybe not,” Jegra answered. “But the Enchiridion predicted him, along with a host of other Progenitors.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Brei interjected, “you’re saying that because an ancient sacred text correctly predicted H’aaztre, that other entities it makes mention of might also exist?”

  “Right now,” Jegra said, her gaze roving from one face to another, “it’s the best lead we have.”

  “And if it just turns out to be more primitive superstition?” Karina asked.

  “Sometimes, Madam President,” Jegra said with a reassuring smile and a warm hand on the shoulder, “it’s about having a little bit of faith. If not in some higher power, then at the very least in ourselves.”

  32

  Back in Arkadian space, Onelle finally let it all out in the form of a long, drawn-out sigh meant to draw everyone’s attention to her flustered state. She did a quick glance to see if she’d garnered any sympathy, and although Senator Targon Van Morgan had almost certainly heard her, he pretended as though he hadn’t. Only Aidora, with her large black eyes, gazed back at her sympathetically.

  “Are you all right, Mistress Onelle?” Aidora went over to Onelle and tenderly placed her hand on top of Onelle’s.

  “It’s just all this stress,” she said, letting out another overly dramatic sigh. “I never expected Azra’il Nun to double cross me. Me! Of all people. Can you believe that? During this whole thing I’ve been her greatest ally. And how does she repay me? By using my connections to broker a peace accord meant to try to erase me off the face of the galactic map.”

  Senator Targon cleared his throat and then looked over at both women. “If she tried to kill you once, there’s no guarantee she won’t try it again. I recommend we all lay low for the time being, including you, my dear.”

  Onelle was nodding in agreement when, all of a sudden, the ship’s proximity alarm went off.

  “What in the blazes is the infernal racket?” Targon grumbled, covering his blue, pointy ears with both hands.

  Onelle leaped up and rushed into the cockpit, her forest green hair flowing behind her. She peered out the view portal, scanning their surroundings. “It’s the proximity alarm, a Nephilim scout has just spotted us.”

  “The Fusion?” Aidora asked. “They shouldn’t be patrolling Arkadian space. Arkadia and Nyctan are the two allied worlds of H’aaztre. Why would they...” her voice trailed off as she looked over at Onelle with a dreadful expression. As one, both women turned their frightened gazes onto Senator Targon.

  “Of course,” he mumbled to himself, even though his bellyaching could be overheard by all. “No loose ends.”

  “Quickly now,” Onelle said, brushing past him, “follow me.”

  They went to her personal quarters where she kicked away the elaborate Nyctan rug on her floor to reveal a secret panel. She crouched down, opened the panel, and gestured for the senator to get into the recess.

  “It’s shielded to mask your bio-signature, and it locks from the inside. There’s also a false top, so if they do try to pry it open, all they’ll find are rows of circuit boards and a bunch of random wiring.”

  “I don’t exactly like enclosed spaces,” he said with a nervous gulp. As he swallowed, his Adam’s apple seemed to get stuck in the back of his throat.

  “Do you like living, exactly?” Onelle asked.

  Targon nodded and said, “Ah, yes. Excellent point.”

  With a gentle nudge to his arm, she guided him down into the small recess, no bigger than a coffin and padded just the same. Obviously, Onelle had outfitted it for comfort during raids where she had to keep out of sight.

  Before she could set the panel back into
its rightful place, Targon’s arm flew up. He caught her green hand with his blue one and his golden eyes looked up into her turquoise ones. “Don’t forget me in here.”

  She nodded and gave his hand a firm squeeze, letting him know everything would be fine. With his concerns assuaged, she promptly placed the panel back into position above him and thumped on it twice with the heel of her hand, letting him know that he was secured.

  A second later the sound of the locking mechanism could be heard as the panel bolted into place.

  Not wasting another second, Onelle quickly covered the secret alcove back up with the rug and brushed out its creases so that it would look natural if anyone came into the room. Once she’d finished with that, she looked over at Aidora’s quivering lip and nervous black eyes staring back at her.

  “Can I trust you?”

  “I serve only you, mistress,” Aidora said with a reverential bow. The girl’s long black hair flowed over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, and when she rose back up, the strands slid off her white porcelain skin and settled back into place along the curvature of her petite spine.

  “I hope so, because I’m getting sick and tired of being double crossed. First, that bitch Jegra handing me over to that infernal bounty hunter. Then, Azra’il Nun trying to expunge me...” She raised her hand to the top of her head as if measuring her height. “I’ve had it up to here with insincere, back-stabbing, cunt-faced bitches.”

  Aidora nodded silently and stepped aside so as to let Onelle storm out. After Onelle had exited the room, Aidora’s black eyes flashed with a halo of gold and she smiled menacingly.

  “Are you coming?” Onelle’s voice called impatiently out from the corridor.

  Aidora regained her composure and timidly answered, “Yes, mistress. Right away.”

  Both women arrived at the airlock just as the clunking sound of the scout ship could be heard docking with Onelle’s yacht, the Miura.

  “Anxious” didn’t even begin to explain how she felt or how tight her stomach was wound, so she took a deep breath and then said in a low voice, “Just follow my lead, Aidora.”