by Richard Fox
“Admiral…”
“Do as I say, Doctor. Now.”
Athena shook again. Daniels looked down to the status indicators on his screen. Still good.
C’mon, baby…hold together for a while longer. We’ve got a job to do.
Daniels sat in the center of his bridge, utterly silent now, save for a soft hum from the damaged lighting track over his head and the distant rumble of the engines. He waited, his mind drifting off, thoughts of home, of his family, and then lurching back to the current battle each time his ship was wracked by enemy fire. Athena took half a dozen more hits, but none had been critical. Her engines still functioned, and moments later, when Evans came racing out of the lift onto the bridge, he assured Daniels that the device was still functional.
“Here is the trigger, Admiral. I tried to rig up an automatic control, but the computers are damaged.” He paused, his voice turning grim. “That means I will have to stay, sir, and trigger it manually.”
“Negative, Doctor. Set it up here.” He gestured toward the armrest of his command chair. “Then get down to the shuttles and join your people.”
“Admiral…if you stay, you may be killed. Or…”
Daniels looked back at the physicist, trying to force something resembling a smile to his face. “May be? I think you’re optimistic, Doctor. But I’m ready for death. I knew when the fleet left Earth I might be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice.” He paused for an instant. “I will do my duty, Doctor…and I have my own reasons, personal ones. If I must die, at least it will be for something.”
“No, sir…you misunderstand. You may die, but that is not what I expect. You will be very close to the star’s gravity well when you trigger the device.”
“You are saying such a thing could be survived?”
“Yes, sir. No. In a way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If the device works as expected, Empyrean will be sucked instantly into a bubble universe, a small dimension that will exist separately from our own. I believe anyone still aboard Athena will also be drawn into that universe, so rapidly—without the passage of time, in fact—that the transition will take place before you are killed in the explosion.”
Daniels just stared back at Evans, shaking his head.
“You will be trapped there, sir. Very likely alive…or at least what passes for it in a space without time. You will live forever, Admiral, unable to return…or to die. You will endure eternity trapped, perhaps floating, with no company, nothing in all the vastness of space save for your enemy, Empyrean.”
“I’ll be conscious? I’ll have memories?”
“I believe so, Admiral, though I can’t know. I can’t imagine a worse torture, a hell so real and terrifying.”
Daniels struggled to remain calm, to hold back the shakes that threatened to take him. The fear he was feeling was primal, almost uncontrollable. Almost.
“There’s no choice, Doctor. If Empyrean is not dest…transported to the alternate universe, Earth is doomed.” Ana will die…and Sarah. Or they will be slaves, like those we’ve fought for five years, sentient beings treated like animals, forced to do battle for Empyrean’s malevolence. He was scared, terrified to the core of his being. But he knew what he had to do, and why.
“Do it, Doctor. Set up the control here.” His arm was rigid, pointing toward the armrest. Athena shook again. “Hurry,” he added. “We don’t have much time.”
Evans hesitated for a few seconds, but Daniels’ cold stare wore him down. He walked over and knelt down next to the admiral’s chair, the small device in his hands.
“Admiral…” It was Villars this time, and the instant he heard her tone, he knew what she was going to say.
“Commander, there is no choice. We’re not going to discuss this.”
“Admiral, please, you can’t…”
“I can and I must. There is no choice, none at all. Someone must do this, and before I’ll order anyone else, I’ll do it myself.”
She stared back at him, her usual look of cool competency replaced by helplessness. She looked as though she was going to say something more than once, but before she got any words out, Daniels spoke first. “Commander Villars, engineering is to lock in the thrust vectors…and then all personnel are to report to the shuttles. Make a shipwide announcement. All crew members are to abandon ship.” Daniels knew that was his job, but he didn’t think he could do it. He was barely holding on, the terrible unknown Evans had described tearing at his resolve, terrifying him as he had never been before.
“Yes, Admiral.” The dejection was thick in her voice, and it remained as she activated the shipwide comm and gave the abandon ship order. As if to punctuate the desperation of the moment, Athena shook hard again, and the bridge lights flickered.
“Admiral…” Villars stood up and walked across the bridge, stopping right next to Daniels’ chair.
“Go, Sophia...go. Get my people home.” He paused, looking up at his aide, seeing the mask of tears covering her face. “Do one thing for me…go see my wife. Tell her I love her…always.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath, struggling to maintain his dwindling control. “And kiss my daughter for me.”
“Yes…Admiral…” Villars was openly sobbing now, and Daniels stood up, putting his arm around her. “You served with great valor, Sophia. Go home…live your life.” His voice darkened. “I’ll deal with Empyrean.” The hatred that flared up inside him renewed his strength, filled him with resolve to destroy this enemy, whatever the cost.
“I will, sir…Beck. I will never forget you.”
“Go.” He pushed her gently away. Then he turned and looked toward the rest of his officers. “Go. All of you. Now!” The last word had an edge to it, and he waved his arms toward the lifts. “Your deaths will do nothing to help me. Go…go live your lives. That’s what we fought for. What so many died for.”
Daniels sat down and looked at Evans. “Is this ready, Doctor?”
“Yes, Admiral.” The scientist hesitated. Then he continued, “I could rig a timer, sir. Perhaps you could trigger it and get to a shuttle.”
Daniels looked up at Evans. “Thank you, Doctor, but you and I both know someone needs to see this through. If anything less than the survival of humanity was at stake…” His words trailed off, and he just nodded. He felt strangely calm, resigned to his fate, the near-panic gone, at least for the moment. “You have done your duty, Doctor. If this device works, you will have saved your people. Now go.”
Daniels watched the scientist hesitate for a few seconds before moving toward the bank of lifts. The last of his bridge crew were standing there, Sophia Villars looking back at him, the grief on her face hitting him with almost physical force.
“You have your orders, all of you,” he yelled. It wasn’t what he would have chosen for his final words to his loyal staff, but he needed them to go. Inspiring words, expressions of emotion, would only make it harder for them to leave him. To die.
Or worse…
He sat and looked at the main display. Athena was moving at close to one percent of lightspeed now, an immense velocity, and one which was keeping it ahead of its attackers. He wondered what the dark sentience of the deadly star was thinking. Do you know what I am going to do to you? Do you feel fear? The terror so many billions have felt before as you crushed their worlds, enslaved them?
He pushed aside questioning thoughts, a worry that the device simply wouldn’t work. Or that one of Empyrean’s defenders would finish off Athena before she reached her target. He believed he would make it. He believed the device would work. He had to. Whatever dark fate awaited him at the completion of this mission, the alternative was far worse. Humanity enslaved. His family…
He let the anger, the rage take him. It was better, more useful now than anything else. It held the fear at bay, the yawning terror of the unknown that awaited him.
He saw more symbols winking out of existence on the screen. His crew was escaping Athena, but the fleet contin
ued to lose people. Spacers were dying all around him, the remnants of Earth’s Grand Fleet throwing themselves desperately at the enemy, struggling to buy time for his sacrifice.
The range ticked down. Almost there…
The defiance was still strong in him, but now the fear came flooding back. He’d known death had stalked him for five years. His own advancement to command of the fleet emphasized that. Five of his comrades, now that Skarsgaard had joined the lost, men and women who’d outranked him when the fleet had left Earth, were gone now, along with hundreds of thousands of others. The price of this moment had been too great, too expensive for anything…save victory.
He watched, seeing that he was down to the last seconds. A strange feeling erupted in his gut as he realized he was going to make it. His mad dash toward Empyrean had left most of the defending ships behind…and the other Earth ships had sacrificed themselves in desperate attacks to destroy those enemies closest to Athena.
They died to get you here…now it’s your turn.
He extended his arm, his hand hovering over the small switch Evans had installed. He glanced to his workstation screen. All the shuttles were gone…save one. His crew had left him a way off, a gesture of loyalty, but one that only taunted him now. He couldn’t leave his post. Besides, there was no time left to get to the bay. If he didn’t complete his mission, Athena would hit Empyrean at one percent of lightspeed. Daniels knew the physicists’ best guesses were that even such an impact would be insufficient to destroy the deadly star. But Athena would be vaporized…no, more than that, she would be reduced to her component atoms, nothing at all left of her. Or of him.
There was no way out now, he knew that. Still, he felt the almost overwhelming urge to flee, to run, as if abandoning his post now could save him. His courage and sense of duty fought the fear, as did his rational mind. But he felt himself quivering in his chair, holding on by the slimmest of margins.
The fear was strong, and devious. It taunted him with images, home, the day he’d met Ana, the beach house they’d rented every summer. A young girl’s face, tears streaming from her eyes, begging him to come back to her.
Yes…for her.
The last image backfired on the fear trying to destroy him. It strengthened his resolve. He saw other images now too, that young girl battered and bloody as shadows of attacking enemy ships blocked out the sun. Older, but still recognizable, in chains…or at the console of some slave ship, doing Empyrean’s bidding, as so many billions of other sentient beings had been compelled to do.
No, she will not die. She will not be a slave.
He gritted his teeth and counted down slowly. Less than ten seconds. Will I die? Or will I…
Five seconds.
“Now, you infernal creation…it’s down to us.” He stared at the display, his eyes hard, cold. Then, for an instant, his gaze softened. “I love you, Ana. I love you, my little Sarah.”
His finger tightened, pulling the lever.
Jay Allan Biography
I’m a lifetime Northeasterner, and I currently live in New York City, where I write from my apartment…and continue to fill small notebooks with ideas for future books. I've been reading science fiction and fantasy for just about as long as I've been reading, so, of course, when I started to write, that’s where I ended up. It’s been a great ride so far!
My tastes as a reader are fairly varied and eclectic, but I'd say my favorites are military and dystopian science fiction, space opera, alternate history, and epic fantasy, usually a little bit gritty. I also read a lot of non-fiction, mostly history. I write a lot of science fiction with military themes, but also other SF and some fantasy as well. I like complex characters and lots of backstory and action. Honestly, I think world-building is the heart of science fiction and fantasy, and since that is what I've always been drawn to as a reader, that is what I write.
Among other things, I write the bestselling Crimson Worlds series and the Far Stars series published by Harper Voyager.
I've been an investor and real estate developer for a long time (mostly retired from it now), a fiction author more recently. When I'm not writing, I enjoy traveling, running, hiking, reading. I love hearing from readers and always answer emails. I think you stop growing as a writer if you stop listening to those who read your books.
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Epilogue
By Nathan Hystad
Klaxons blared in Blair Skarsgaard’s ear. He felt a damned fool as he saw his ship Glory explode into a million pieces. He should have been there for his crew, in person. All of them gone in an instant, just like the thousands before them in this seemingly never-ending war. His screen zoomed out from his faraway spot, and he saw the last remaining ships form up beside his old friend Beck Daniels.
The UEF had ordered him to stay away from the last battle back before they left, and he was to lead the survivors back to Earth…if there were any. Almost every part of him was wracked with guilt, but he pushed it aside. The rest of the fleet didn’t know he wasn’t on Glory. He’d been transmitting to them through a relay, but he was still alive. He would be more useful here than in dust out there.
More ships were destroyed on either side, all forces taking heavy losses. They just had to get close enough to fire the device at the massive burning bastard, Empyrean. The thing thought it was a god, but it was just a freak of nature; an unnatural sentience.
Time seemed to slow as both sides fought. Massive plasma-powered war vessels shot their flares at the remaining FCF teams, some missing, most seeming to connect. They were trying to protect Daniels and Athena now.
“Come on! Shoot the damn device!” Blair yelled into his comm that no one would hear.
Something had to be wrong. Athena jettisoned its shuttles and sped up drastically, heading right for Empyrean. Even from ten thousand kilometers, he thought he could hear the angry yelling of the star inside his mind as the ship raced into its corona.
Then with a flash of light, and a last banshee cry from the star, they both vanished. They didn’t explode, they just disappeared from existence. It was as amazing as they’d hoped. Tears streamed down Blair’s normally composed face as relief and sorrow intertwined inside him. All of those deaths, so the rest back home could survive. He thought about the friends he’d lost, and the people he’d left behind on Earth.
The last few FCF ships were racing away from the plasma ships, which had fallen still at the loss of their leader. Blair watched them as their bright glows faded to nothing, soon just grey rocks floating there with a spattering of enemy ships. Those that could still fly hesitated, then accelerated using their own plasma drives, which appeared to still be working. They went one way, the FCF went another.
***
Blair Skarsgaard stood on the bridge of Destiny, the newly renamed, last standing FCF Type 3 war vessel. The engineer was trying to activate the wormhole generator, which had been terribly damaged in the battle. Without it, they would take almost three years to reach Earth. By that time the Colony ships would be long gone, but maybe they’d leave a message for the returning FCF crews. He knew it was likely they didn’t expect anyone to make it home, and how close they’d been to being right about that.
“Admiral, I can’t see this thing working any time soon. I’m sorry.” Kate stood, shoulders slumped and bags heavy under her eyes. She was a mirror of everyone else left.
“Commander, you’ve done an amazing job. Take a couple of days, and see if you can get some help. I’d prefer to make it back before all of Earth is gone. In the meantime,” he stood up from his seat, the weary looks of his new mismatched crew making him feel even more tired, “set course for Earth. Activate the drive. We’re going home.”
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Explorations: Colony
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Explorations:
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Explorations: Through the Wormhole
Table of Contents
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Also By Woodbridge Press
Newsletter
Prologue (Nathan Hystad)
Nine Thousand Seconds to Earth (Robert M. Campbell)
Field of Fire (Ralph Kern)
A Million Points of Light (C.C. Ekeke)
Friendly Fire (C. Gockel)
The Hand of Empyrean (Scott Moon)
Minimum Safe Distance (Scott McGlasson)
The One Who Waits (Scarlett R. Algee)
Shot in the Dark (Richard Fox)
The Path to War (Josh Hayes)
The Last Battle (Jay Allan)
Epilogue (Nathan Hystad)
Explorations Series
