by Richard Fox
Hale crunched the numbers in his head. “So about forty-hour flight time in normal space.”
“Yeah, pretty close. Give or take.”
“Well, let’s get moving, shall we? Yesarin, would you let our passengers know we’ll being jumping in a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
Kenzie pulled her harness tight around her chest. “This better not be as bad as the last time.”
Five hours into their trip thought normal space, Hale decided dinner would be a good time to get caught up on this new universe they’d found themselves in. Glad it was Ears’ time to cook, Hale and the rest of the Franny’s crew sat around the galley, enjoying the aromas. Their two new passengers had elected to shower before appearing for dinner.
Hale looked up as Fazion Sedaris worked his way through the hatch and took a seat at the table. His friend, Harrison Lee, followed him through the hatch with much less effort. Fazion reached out, offering a hand to Hale. Hale took it and smiled.
“I just want to thank you again for all your help,” Fazion said. “Who knows what would have happened to us if you guys hadn’t shown up?”
“Our pleasure.”
Fazion’s nostrils flared. “Oh, man, that smells amazing. My compliments to the… it’s a monkey?”
Ears stopped stirring and glared at the physicist. Hale had to admit, the chattermonkey looked a little strange standing on the counter next to the large pot. Ears wore a small apron that made the scene even that much more ridiculous.
Lincoln leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers behind his head, grinning.
Hale adjusted himself in his seat. "Ears…"
The chattermonkey's bright eyes considered the captain briefly, then fixed themselves on Fazion. He spoke slowly, obviously trying to keep his anger in check. "What did you call me?"
The levity from Fazion's demeanor seemed to fade under the chattermonkey's piercing gaze. "Uh… a mon—"
“Ears is one of the best pasta chefs in the galaxy,” Kenzie said. “Well, our galaxy anyway. This Prestar wine is really top notch, too." She gave Hale a nod, eyes indicating she wanted him to back her play.
"Uh, yeah, top notch." Hale slid one of the empty glasses in front of their newest passenger. "You really should try it."
The robot on Fazion’s shoulder twisted, moving to get a look at the offered bottle. A second eye remained focused on Ears. Without turning his head, Fazion read the label from the bottle aloud, picked it up without looking at it and took a swig.
“Oh, damn, Harrison, you have to try this.”
“No thanks.”
“The pasta is ready,” Ears said. “If someone wants to get the table set up, the sauce should be ready by then."
"I'll get it," Kenzie said, already moving.
They ate in silence. Even after the many years of working together, Hale always looked forward to the chattermonkey’s dinners. The sauce, which Ears had perfected over many years, had recently been enhanced by some unique ingredients, found in the Prestar system. Vegetables comparable to onions, mushrooms and tomatoes were chopped into the thick sauce, giving the entire meal a distinct taste Hale was sure neither of the two new arrivals had ever experienced before.
“That was great, Ears, thanks,” Hale said, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin. His sentiments were echoed by everyone at the table.
“What I wouldn’t give for a nice plate of Kansas barbecue,” Lincoln said. “Not that your cooking isn’t great, Ears. But it’s been years since I’ve had a decent rack of ribs.”
“Not much chance of that,” Harrison said. The whole of Franny’s crew turned to the scientist, who was in mid-chew. He looked up from his plate. “What?”
“Not much chance of what?” Hale asked.
“Ribs. Kansas or otherwise.”
“Why the hell not?” Lincoln blurted out, nearly coming out of his chair.
Fazion raised a hand. The way he sat, never moving as his little robot minion did all the visual work for him, unsettled Hale slightly. “I’ll have to apologize for my friend, we’ve been stuck on that rock for so long, our manners leave something to be desired. It’s kind of a long story, but I’ll try to hit the high points.”
The scientist told them about the Sphere Ship arriving, giving humanity the stars. He told them about the fourteen original missions, expeditions sent out to explore the galaxy and make first contact with a handful of known alien races. Then came the warning about a Star, an evil so vast and dangerous, that not even the most advanced civilization in the universe dared defy it.
“We’ve been preparing for war for so long, I don’t think, as a species, we know how to do anything else. Which is one of the reasons we came way out here to work. This war is just a way of life now.”
“A losing war,” Harrison added.
“We’re losing?” Kenzie asked.
Fazion sighed. “Well, we’re not scoring many victories, that’s for sure. After the Sphere Ship arrived, we sent missions out to all these systems that supposedly had intelligent life, looking for allies in the battle against Empyrean. A lot of the ships never came back.”
“We should have focused on protecting humanity instead of gallivanting through the cosmos looking for help that wasn’t there. The FCF is a total waste of time and money. If they’d spent more time working on building up our defenses we might have survived the Battle of Earth. We might not have lost the Sun.”
Lincoln leaned forward. “What do you mean we lost the Sun? How can you just lose a sun?”
Fazion laughed. “You know, I’m not sure how accurately I can answer that, the whole thing kind of defies science, if you ask me. Somehow, and this sounds completely crazy so bear with me, our sun attacked Empyrean.”
“That’s impossible,” Lincoln said.
“Yeah, before a few months ago, I would have said the same thing. Then again, my knowledge of stellar dynamics is somewhat limited. That being the case, I can most definitely assure you, it’s very possible.”
Five
A soft alarm woke Ears, who sniffed and sat up in his crash couch, rubbing his eyes. "What now?"
The ultimate fate of the solar system had killed any chance of further conversation, and after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, the crew and guests had retired to their separate cabins, most without finishing their dinner. Ears couldn’t fault anyone for that, knowing your world would end in the very near future was enough to kill anyone’s appetite.
He hopped down onto Hale's empty pilot's seat and scanned the data flowing into the holographic displays in front of him.
"I thought you were supposed to be on watch," Yesarin said, his voice level and matter-of-fact.
Ears growled. "I was watching."
"Ahh, my apologies, apparently my bio-sensors are malfunctioning. For some reason, they reported that your body was experiencing a REM cycle, must have been a glitch in my circuit somewhere.”
Ears scratched the back of his head and muttered, “I’ll give you a glitch, you overloaded alien bastard. What’s going on?”
“Someone is using the ship’s communications network to send a transmission into the Sol system. I believe one of our new guests is using our system.”
“Where?”
“The transmission is originating from Corridor 3, Panel 2a.”
“Shall I notify the captain of the situation?”
Ears groaned and stretched. “No, I’ll take care of it. Apparently one of our new passengers needs a lesson on guest etiquette while aboard ship.”
Groaning, he took the crew access ladder down out of the bridge then popped open a recessed panel and pulled himself into the Franny's innards. Unlike his human shipmates, Ears wasn’t limited to the passages and corridors. He had learned years ago that his small frame granted him unparalleled access to the ship, not that he wanted that particular tidbit of information to become general knowledge among the crew. Just because he was able to navigate the ship's tight spaces didn't mean he actual
ly enjoyed it. It always took forever to get the dirt and grime out of his purple-striped silver fur.
A few minutes later, Ears exited one of the small shafts that cut vertically through the ship, into one of the mechanical access passages in the belly of the Franny. He clung to the duct work and heavy cables running along the ceiling and made his way down the dimly lit corridor. After fifty feet, he heard a muffled voice coming from around a bend ahead.
“…I don’t know where they came from, but they definitely aren’t from here. I don’t buy their temporal variance bullshit for a second. And then, just like the FCF, Fazion gives them the coordinates straight into the FCF.”
Slowly Ears maneuvered around the corner, and caught sight of Harrison Lee, light from the display panel glowing against his pale skin. The human paused his message, eyes darting up and down the corridor, but like most of the humans Ears had ever met, his intelligence was extremely limited. He didn’t bother looking up, where no human could be.
Always underestimated, Ears thought, shaking his head.
Harrison Lee faced the display again and continued, “I’m including a copy of all the research from Earbos. I can’t believe it, but the damn wormhole worked. I think that’s how these other people got here. This is the last bit of the puzzle. We can finally elevate our cause to something that will truly make a difference. If you get this message before we reach Mars, you can’t let these strangers make contact with the UEF. Our cause is for our humanity, not whatever these things portray themselves to be. Them and their damn monkey.”
Ears was airborne and flying toward Harrison before he’d known he was going to attack, his battle cry echoing down the empty corridor. The human ducked, hands coming up to protect his head. Ears fell on him in a fury of swiping attacks that shredded the man’s clothes and tore into his flesh. Screams of terror and agony filled the corridor.
Ears pushed off his chest, flipped in the air, landed feet first against the bulkhead, then pushed off again, hurtling himself back at his target. He slammed into Harrison’s chest, knocking the human off his feet, sending him reeling. He landed hard, grunting in pain.
The chattermonkey landed lightly on the deck, chest heaving. He walked toward the human, who pushed himself back across the deck, away from Ears. Ears caught sight of the ship's comm switch and jumped. He slapped the control with one hand as he passed it, and grabbed hold of a small conduit running along the ceiling.
"Hale to Corridor Three!"
He hung there for a moment, watching the terrified human, then dropped back down to the deck. Taking in a deep breath, he flexed, something he hadn't done in many years. His muscles bulged, growing to almost twice their normal size. He stood taller, arms held out to each side, and advanced on the human. While attractive to the females of his species, the chattermonkey mating ritual had proven repeatedly terrifying to humans.
“Stop!” Harrison cried. “Don’t, please!”
“I am not a monkey!”
Hale arrived a minute later, still trying to zip up his overalls. “What’s going on here?” He stopped short when he noticed Harrison lying on the ground. "What the hell happened, Ears?"
"Captain,” Harrison said. “I can explain—"
"This piece of shit,” Ears interrupted, "was right in the middle of transmitting our positional data and our wormhole technology to people, devious criminals no doubt.”
“They aren’t criminals!”
“Who did you send our technology to?"
"I didn't send anyone your tech, I sent them ours."
Hale paused for a moment. “I don’t understand. The tech you guys were out here researching? What is it? Why all the cloak and dagger?”
Harrison seemed to consider the captain’s words for a minute, then straightened. “Not everyone agrees with the correct approach to ensure our race’s survival. With our technology, we can literally save millions of people without having to depend on the ineptitude of Skarsgaard and the FCF.”
“I don’t care who you agree or disagree with, I won’t allow anyone on this ship to put her, or more importantly her crew, in jeopardy. Consider yourself confined to quarters until I can figure out what to do with you.”
Harrison pulled himself to his feet. He took a step toward Hale but, at the sight of Ears, decided against anything that could be mistaken for aggression. “Be careful who you side with out here, Captain. Not everyone has humanity’s best interests at heart.”
“I’m not on anyone’s side but my own.”
Six
The shipyard was massive. The Franny was still several thousand kilometers from the outer limits of the yard, but even so, the expanse of ships filled her main viewport. Yesarin was having difficulty counting the number of ships in the area, there were so many. It stretched for thousands of kilometers, filled with ships of all sizes and in various stages of contractions. One of the battlecruisers ahead was only a partially constructed shell, the exposed frame giving the structure the look of a rotting whale carcass.
"Whoa," Kenzie said, tapping quickly on her console. "Oh, yeah, they know we're here."
Five alert icons popped up on Hale's display, indicating five ships all changing course to intercept the Franny. Three were still several thousand kilometers out, but two were almost within Franny’s maximum engagement range.
Hale’s Integrated Systems Interface Implant allowed him to digest information faster than his eyes could read the data from the displays in front of him. The inbound frigates didn’t appear to be heavily armed, but without knowing the exactly technology level of these humans, it would be impossible to know their capabilities.
“We are receiving a signal from one of the lead frigates,” Yesarin said.
“Put it through.”
The image of a clean-shaven young man appeared on the holodisplay in front of Hale. The man’s high and tight, close cropped hair cut and high-collared jacket were unmistakable.
“Do they always have to look like uptight assholes,” Ears said, echoing Hale’s own thoughts.
“This is Lieutenant Upton, First Contact Federation, you are entering restricted space. You are ordered to change course to one-seven-eight-mark-two. Do so now, or you will be fired upon.”
“No offense, Lieutenant, but no one is coming on board my ship and we’ve got business with whoever is in charge here.” Through his i3, Hale asked Yesarin, “Can you access their systems?”
“Yes, Being Hale.”
“Do it.”
“Listen, kid,” Hale said. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I can promise you that this situation is above your pay grade.” He urged the engines a little harder, angling deeper in the yard.
“I repeat, you are entering a restricted area, you must change course and depart the area. Deadly force is authorized.”
"Pretty tight in here," Ears whispered.
"Yeah," Hale turned the ship, making a last-minute course correction to avoid a passing tug. "But they're not likely to fire on us while we’re in here."
"Torpedo launch!" Kenzie said.
"Okay, less likely."
"Four fish,” Kenzie reported. “All on straight line intercept courses. Bring the guns online."
"Yesarin, how much time do you need?"
"I'm currently experience some difficulty infiltrating their secured ship’s systems."
"How much time?"
"5 minutes, 37 seconds."
"I feel like we've been here before," Ears said.
Hale changed course again, cutting behind a large battleship. "Let's just hope none of the weapons systems on these hulks are online yet or this is going to turn into a really quick trip."
"We're getting repeated stand-down orders from the fighters," Kenzie said.
"Yeah," Hale muttered. He sent them rolling over a tug, so close he imagined seeing the pilot’s terrified expression as his frigate shot past. His new connection to Franny's computer, through Yesarin, gave him unprecedented control over the ship's systems. Even so, he found it di
fficult to absorb all the information flowing through the connection.
"Kenzie, those torpedoes?"
"Working on it."
"Might work a bit faster," Ears said.
Alarms sounded as the torpedoes closed. Hale barely registered the vibrations from the new twin-barrel plasma cannon as Kenzie fired. The new Prestar weapons were leaps and bounds over Franny’s original loadout, but they hadn’t had many opportunities to get acquainted with the new systems.
“Got one!”
Hale didn’t celebrate. They barely missed a third tug, making a wide turn around a large portion of hull-plating. Hale’s i3 connection to Franny’s systems was fast, but his urge to reach out and grab the controls was overwhelming him. He cursed and switched from mental to physical controls.
“Being Hale, I do not advise—“
“Not now.” Years of experience and instinct flowed through his hands as he worked the controls. They were like an extension of his body, the ship another part of him.
He sent them under another cruiser and brought them up as the passed underneath. A bright beam of energy shot past the viewport, disappearing almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“Oh, shit,” Kenzie said. “That cruiser’s weapons are online.”
Hale jerked the controls hard, sending them into a hard-right turn. His body strained against his harness. He felt a coolness begin to spread through his body as medicine from Yesarin’s new biomedical enhancements fought against the stress of the g-forces. After a brief tightness in his chest, the pressure subsided and he relaxed.
“Wow, that is nice,” Kenzie said, obviously feeling similar effects from the drugs.
The plasma cannon fired around.
Kenzie slapped her armrest. “Second torpedo down. They just launched four more.”
“Does anyone else think it’s extremely ironic that no matter what universe we are in, no one likes us?” Ears asked.
Hale repeated his pleas for the frigates to break off, but knew it was useless. He didn’t blame them. In the same situation, Hale knew he’d probably be reacting the exact same way. “Yesarin, how’s it going?”
