Sirens Journey: The Founder Saga

by Thomas Fay

  I stared at Tan’s eyes for a good sixty seconds. Neither of us blinked. Finally, he said, ‘The Alpha Protocol has been enacted.’

  I froze. It took me a while to process what I had just heard. The Alpha Protocol. Slowly, I nodded.

  ‘Alright. I’m on way.’

  Jonas Tan turned and left without another word. Within moments he was gone, disappearing back into the everyday life of Dyson Alpha. I took a step down the corridor towards the bar. I was barely aware of the fact that I was walking; my mind was racing with what I had just heard. The Alpha Protocol meant only one thing. The Founders had returned.

  For the majority of people, the Founders were a myth. Whispered rumours in star ports across the known universe. Stories told by deep-space miners and survey ships. Somehow the stories were never told firsthand, and there was never any evidence to support the claims being made. This led people to conclude that the Founders were not real.

  It was a belief that the UEP worked incredibly hard to maintain while at the same time employing a network of covert agents to investigate any reported claims of Founder technology.

  I still remembered the day I had learned the truth about the Founders. That day had changed my life forever.

  It was the same day that had shattered my belief in the Space Navy forever.

  57.

  Five standard years ago …

  The elongated spiral-shaped vessel glided through the asteroid field located deep inside the Tau Ceti system. Its particle drive lay dormant, its forward momentum achieved through the dissipation of heat into the vacuum of space. The ship was running silent. Its matt-black hull was coated in a shield on its lowest setting. Its advanced electronic warfare system emitted minute gravitational signals mimicking the surrounding asteroids. The ship was virtually undetectable.

  Or so its occupants hoped.

  ****

  Ten thousand kilometres away, hidden inside a hollowed-out asteroid, someone noticed the ship.

  ‘Sir, contact. Ten thousand clicks out, moving slow.’

  ‘Positive ID?’

  ‘Not yet, they’re running silent.’

  ‘Are the drones in position?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Ten class Vs inbound on the signal. We’ll have positive confirmation in sixty seconds.’

  ‘Call me in sixty seconds.’

  ****

  A minute later.

  ‘Sir, drones in position. We have positive confirmation. It’s a Nautilus-class Cetian vessel in full stealth mode.’

  ‘Any other contacts?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  Silence. Then: ‘Keep scanning them.’

  ‘Acknowledged, sir. Should I alert Command?’

  ‘Not yet. We need to be certain.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’

  ****

  I switched the coms off and stared at the liquid data display before me. It was showing the live feed from the class V drones. The Cetian Nautilus-class star ship was moving silently through the asteroid field. The remnants of bygone worlds spun harmlessly past its elongated spiral-shaped hull as it moved deeper into the field. It was now only eight thousand kilometres from the hidden Space Navy asteroid base. If it got to within a thousand, the risk of detection would increase exponentially.

  I stood up.

  The gravity inside the core areas of the asteroid base was a tolerable 0.7 Earth standard, unlike the sections closer to the surface where it dropped to barely above 0.1. The covert base officially did not exist and its mere presence would be considered an act of war by the Cetians if it were discovered. It had been built to produce minimal emissions, reducing the risk of detection by a deep-space Cetian patrol. The downside of this was that the graviton flux generator could only be spun up to create tolerable gravity within the core of the asteroid, while sections closer to the surface relied on the asteroid’s slow spin to create any gravity at all.

  Opening the door to my chamber, I walked out into the corridor. The dark-grey interior smelled of wet rock. The faint indigo illumination was barely enough to see where I was going. It didn’t matter. I knew the inside of the station like the back of my hand. A six-month posting had seen to that. Despite its unpleasant aspects, the asteroid base had become home.

  I reached the main observation deck, located at the core of the asteroid. Several grey-clad Space Navy technicians looked up from their instruments.

  ‘As you were,’ I said, sitting down at an empty terminal. ‘Status?’

  ‘Sir, the Cetian ship is approaching our location,’ Ensign Rodriguez said. ‘Should we alert the strike force?’

  ‘Have we confirmed it’s the ship we’re looking for?’

  ‘No, sir. The class Vs are still scanning.’

  ‘Then we wait. We need to be certain.’

  ‘But, sir—if they detect us …?’

  ‘I know, Ensign. It’s a risk we have to take. This is too important.’

  ‘Understood, sir. Target vessel now less than seven thousand kilometres out and closing.’

  I stared at the display screen. It showed the live feed from the class V drones. I could easily discern our asteroid base on the screen now. The Cetian ship was close. Very close.

  ‘Six thousand kilometres and closing.’

  ‘Five thousand … four thousand …’

  As the ensign counted down, my eyes never left the ship.

  ‘Three thousand …’

  ‘Do we have confirmation?’ I asked.

  Silence. Then: ‘Sir, the drones’ scan is positive. We’re detecting exotic particle emissions matching those transmitted to us by Command. It’s the ship we’re looking for!’

  ‘Notify the strike force.’

  ‘Sir, I’m reading active radiation sweeping our location—they’ve spotted us. Their engines are powering up, they’re running!’

  ‘Damn it! Get that strike force on them now. I’m heading up to the flight deck. Tell the pilot to prep for immediate launch.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the ensign said. Switching channel, he said, ‘Strike force Delta, this is Echo Station Ten. We have positive ID on a Nautilus-class ship—Commander Stanton has authorised you to engage. Disable and apprehend.’

  ‘Acknowledged. Strike force Delta inbound. ETA ten minutes.’

  I caught the last of the coms as I raced out of the observation deck. Sprinting down the narrow dark-grey corridor, I reached the turbo-lift. The doors slid open. I stepped inside and hit the button for ‘flight deck’. Twenty seconds later the doors slid open on the upper level. I experienced a sense of weightlessness. The flight deck was very close to the surface of the asteroid, meaning the gravity was close to 0.1 Earth standard. I grasped one of the zero-gravity handholds and pulled myself inside the open chamber.

  A Raptor heavy fighter sat on its launch pad. It had taken the Space Navy sappers a month to carve out enough space to fit one of the bulky heavy fighters inside the asteroid. Their efforts were finally going to pay off.

  ‘Sir, ready for take-off,’ the pilot, Lieutenant Vanessa Gage, said with only the faintest hint of a smile. I tried very hard not to smile back but failed miserably. Every time I saw her, I felt like it was my first day at the Academy and she was the prettiest girl there. The fact that she had flawless skin, luminous green eyes and a figure that not even her one-piece flight suit could hide probably had something to do with it.

  ‘Ummm … good to hear, Lieutenant. We can’t let them get away.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’

  I manoeuvred myself inside the Raptor heavy fighter, lowering my legs down first. Its cockpit was designed for two operators. Lieutenant Gage effortlessly dropped into the forward seat while I strapped myself into the co-pilot’s seat. The positions were slightly staggered, the pilot lower, the co-pilot higher, so we both had a clear line of sight on the view screen when the forward hatch was shut.

  ‘All flight systems active; take-off in five … four …’ Lieutenant Gage counted down.

  The Raptor heavy fighter shuddered
with pent-up power as its systems achieved full flight readiness. The dark-grey rock of the asteroid base visibly shook as the heavy fighter lifted into the air. Its forward hatch slid shut. For a split second we were illuminated by the pale glow of the instrument panels. Then the view screen lit up, showing the inside of the asteroid base along with a myriad of ship schematics and spatial positioning data.

  ‘Three … two …’

  The airlock to the flight deck closed with a solid thud behind us. An elliptical section of the asteroid base slid aside in front of us. The Raptor heavy fighter aligned perfectly on the opening.

  ‘One!’

  The twin class C engines ignited, pushing us back into our seats as the heavy fighter left the covert base behind. Manoeuvring between asteroids, Lieutenant Gage activated the coms.

  ‘This is Raptor Echo-1. We’re clear. Requesting location of target vessel,’ she said.

  ‘This is Echo Station Ten. We’re tracking the Cetian ship. It’s moving through the asteroid field, heading for an unknown location. Transmitting location now,’ one of the techs inside the asteroid base responded. ‘The class V drones have fallen back. We’re repositioning them.’

  ‘Where’s our strike force?’ I asked.

  ‘They’ve entered the asteroid field, sir. ETA at your location is eight minutes.’

  ‘Alright, tell them we’re going after the ship. This is a strict disable and apprehend mission.’

  ‘Understood, sir. Relaying your message now.’

  I settled back into my seat as Lieutenant Gage increased the power, pushing the bulky fighter craft deeper into the asteroid field. Her eyes never left the view screen as she reacted instantly to any objects in our path. I knew there was little risk of hitting anything. Lieutenant Gage was a member of the Chronos Project—the subjects of which were genetically enhanced, their nervous systems augmented, leading to superior reflexes and abilities in the field. The price: almost certain early onset of Parkinson’s disease and accelerated neurodegeneration as a direct result of overloading the neural synapses in the brain. I was sure the Space Navy played down the risks in order to convince people to volunteer for the project, something I disagreed with on a fundamental level. It was also not something I wanted to think about. The thought of Vanessa crippled in her prime made me angry and afraid at the same time.

  I realised my feelings for her had grown considerably during our time at the covert asteroid base. I smiled at the thought of spending time alone with her once the mission was over. Her quarters were located near the flight deck, meaning the gravity was almost non-existent and, being an elite Raptor fighter pilot, Vanessa had mastered zero gravity. She had certainly taught me a thing or two.

  ‘Target located,’ Lieutenant Gage said.

  The Cetian ship appeared on the view screen. It was no longer running silent. Its particle drive was throwing out a dense trail as it ducked and weaved between the asteroids, heading for an unknown destination.

  ‘That’s them alright. Can you disable their engines?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Lieutenant Gage said, without turning around. ‘Disruptors charged. Targeting program running.’

  A trio of thin amber lines chased across the view screen, attempting to line up on the Nautilus-class star ship. The targeting program was compensating for the gravitational disturbances caused by the asteroid field as well as tracking the ship’s erratic manoeuvres. It took less than a second to lock on.

  ‘Firing disruptors,’ Lieutenant Gage said.

  A pair of sizzling orbs of energy accelerated from the Raptor fighter’s forward launch tubes. Though the orbs were travelling at incredible speed, their trajectory was constantly in flux as each asteroid exerted its gravitational pull. But the targeting program had calculated perfectly. Both disruptor orbs struck the rear of the Cetian ship.

  ‘Direct hit, sir. Their aft shielding has been disabled,’ Lieutenant Gage said.

  ‘Alright, let’s take out their engines. Carefully, Lieutenant,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  I didn’t need to see her face to know she was smiling. After months of being cooped up inside the tight confines of the asteroid base, it was good to be doing something more than staring at passive scans and live feeds from drones scattered throughout this region of space. I had to admit there was something exhilarating about it: the thrill of the chase, the mystery of the unknown—what exactly was the ship carrying that had brought it to the attention of the Space Navy? I guess we were about to find out.

  ‘I’m detecting additional readings.’

  ‘Friendly?’

  ‘No, sir. More Cetian ships. Argonaut-class light fighters.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Three. Looks like a patrol.’

  ‘Damn, they must be protecting something deeper in the field. Where’s our strike force?’

  ‘About six minutes behind us. Orders, sir?’

  I stared at the view screen for five seconds. Our target moved further into the asteroid field as the three fighters got closer. I reached a decision.

  ‘Engage, Lieutenant. We can’t let that ship get away.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  The Raptor heavy fighter accelerated forwards as Lieutenant Gage brought its full combat potential online. Multiple tracking programs locked onto the three fighters. Forward launch tubes opened. Its shielding hardened into a near-impenetrable layer of energy, the gravity aboard the fighter increasing as the main graviton flux generator spun up and back-up generators came online. Then the heavy fighter rolled to the side so quickly that I felt my stomach rise into my throat. I concentrated on the view screen, trying not to remember what I had for breakfast. The heavy fighter aligned on the Cetian ships and unleashed a series of disruptor orbs. All found their mark.

  ‘Fighter shields disabled. Do we take them out, sir?’

  I hated this part. The decision to end lives. Sometimes there was no choice. Other times, like this, there was.

  ‘Disable only, Lieutenant. We still want to find a diplomatic solution to this situation and we’re not authorised to terminate any Cetian forces unless there is no alternative.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’

  The Cetian fighters tried to defend themselves but they were no match for the Space Navy heavy fighter or the chemically and genetically augmented pilot flying it. The entire encounter lasted less than sixty seconds. All three ships were dead in space, their primary systems disabled, life support and emergency beacons the only systems left functioning.

  ‘Inform Echo station to relay back to Tau III that they need to pick them up and detain them.’

  ‘Sir? Is that diplomatic?’

  ‘We can always argue they got caught up in a training exercise but we can’t risk them alerting the Cetians right now.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘And resume pursuit, Lieutenant,’ I said. ‘We need to get on board that Nautilus-class ship.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  The twin class C engines pushed the heavy fighter into a dense patch of asteroids. Only Lieutenant Gage’s superior reflexes and the ship’s heavy shielding saved us from a fiery death. I felt my heart rate increasing. I realised I should be worried. But instead, I smiled. How many people got to do this for a living? And it wasn’t like I had anything to lose. A life spent in the employ of the Space Navy had left little time for anything else.

  We travelled deep into an uncharted section of the asteroid field, our sensors following the faint traces from the Cetian ship’s particle drive. Despite over a century of covert surveillance, there were still large parts of Tau Ceti that had never been explored. Not by humans, at any rate.

  An hour later, a proximity warning sounded inside our ship.

  ‘Sir, new contact. This one’s big. Really big.’

  ‘Another ship?’

  ‘No, sir. Looks like some sort of installation. There’s quite a bit of disturbance from the asteroids. I can’t get a clear reading.’

  ‘They
’ll know we’re here. I just hope they don’t have any defence platforms floating around out here.’

  ‘Should we wait for the strike force?’

  I considered it for a moment. No, I thought. We had made it this far. Although, I realised, being inside a fully functional and armed Raptor heavy fighter did tend to give one a sense of invincibility, something which had ended the career of more than one promising young pilot.

  ‘No. Continue, but be ready to pull back if we don’t like what we find in there.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’

  We moved through the asteroids. A dense particle field was making visibility difficult in this region of space. The faint glow of the escaping Cetian ship’s particle drive was our only guide to where we were going. After another ten minutes, a shape began to resolve itself from the murky space before us. Visibility continued to increase until the object was revealed and we got our first glimpse of the Cetian ship’s destination.

  ‘What is that?’ I marvelled.

  ****

  The structure in the centre of the asteroid field was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It appeared to be a perfect sphere, made of an intricate, densely interlaced metallic alloy. It appeared to be completely dormant. It was also huge, easily the size of Earth’s moon.

  ‘Scan is negative, sir,’ Lieutenant Gage said. ‘I’m not getting any sort of reading from that thing. Our scans are bouncing right off it. Zero penetration of the structure. Zero emissions.’

  ‘Radiation?’

  ‘Nil, sir.’

  ‘Where’s the Cetian ship?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s gone, sir. It must have entered the structure somehow.’

  ‘Alright, deploy drones. Let’s get a closer look at this thing. Our strike force should be here any moment.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Lieutenant Gage released a dozen class V drones. The tiny cylindrical machines, powered by miniature class A engines, fanned out into a circular pattern and deployed around the unknown sphere. Even at full acceleration, it would take them at least a standard hour to perform a full scan of the object.