by Shay Zana
"It does..."
A shimmer is sent over the exterior of the ship, and in this instant, the shields weaken significantly and the power from them is now sent to the drive core, giving it just the extra kick it needs to pull out of the welling gravity field and continue upward to escape Olympus.
The Marauding Exile twists itself and flips forward, backward, performs barrel rolls, and morphs its shape to dodge and skim past the large chunks of moons and fire balls. Many near misses make Rockland cringe, and Zee even begins to sweat, his forehead beaded and his eyes beginning to redden as his gaze is not removed from his artificial view of the ship's course. He has not blinked, and is barely breathing as he focuses all his mind into controlling the warship.
Impacts of smaller moon fragments ricochet along the nikita armour plating, creating ripples of bangs and vibrations all throughout the ship's interior. For now, the armour will hold, but if a larger fragment were to impact, not even the strength of nikita will protect them.
THE FLYING EAGLE
The Paragons push through the remainder of the guards on the command deck, making their way toward the bridge, weaponry primed and forms stiff in firing stances. It has been sealed by a kinetic barrier, one that denies their entry this time.
"We do not wish to fight!" Mazayus yells to who he suspects is the commander.
"You have a funny way of showing it," Rockland replies defiantly, referring to the mass of dead bodies throughout the deck behind them. The cyborgs do not respond, their reflective visor’s trained firmly on him, making his spine tingle. Standing before them, not two metres distance, they are even larger than he had imagined. By the gods, they look like gods themselves, clad in their armour, towering and dense, robust and terrifying.
Something emerging behind the cyborgs draws Rockland’s eye. A fluid motion of pale material, fleeting and fair, misty whispers flowing to him. She steps out from behind one of the behemoths; a beautiful woman, angelic and divine, looking just as much a goddess as the Paragons look like gods. Although the first thing he notices is her beauty, both in appearance and presence, he quickly notices her grim state, dirty, weak, injured, and trembling in shock.
In his peripheral vision, unable to remove his eyes from her, Rockland notices a softening of the Paragons in her presence. They lower their weapons as she steps in their firing lines, and one of them moves in closer to her, so subtly that he barely notices it.
"Alira mokana," she says smoothly to him, her voice a near whisper, defying her state. Her hand raises, and with her four fingers, she lightly touches the centre of her forehead in a respectful Cipher greet, honouring the mind inside the skull.
Rockland just stares at the young woman. His gaze is drawn again to the wound festering in her shoulder, leaking out an obvious toxic element. Her garments are not protective at all, in fact her clothing is sparse with intricate straps and swaying robes. Perhaps she is one of their Spiritual Natives, or even royalty. She is wearing several pieces of jewellery that indicate the possibility, and her eyes...
"Who are you?" he asks without thinking.
"My name is Kitera, of the bloodline of Kiara. We must speak of importance."
“Bloodline of... look I don’t know how all things work in Serenity, but in the UEU, rank matters, not heritage.”
Boone steps forward, careful not to direct his Genesis at the cautious man. “She’s royalty,” he somewhat lies, though a Cipher is viewed and treated as any king or queen in Serenity. “She knows more than you can imagine. It may pay to listen to her.”
Kitera raises her hand to Boone, signalling him to be at ease. As her silver eyes flick back to Rockland, her head tilts to the side slightly, giving her even more of an eerie vibe. “You were sent to learn of the events occurring throughout Scattered Planet, were you not, Jaron Rockland?”
“How do you know who I am?”
“I know many things about you, Commander.”
Rockland’s skin crawls as she continues to stare at him, her eyes so alien to him. Is she wearing a new type of optic iris? He has never heard of a silver lens before. What ability does it give her?
Not able to pull his eyes away from hers, Rockland moves his head to the side slightly, a frown forming on his face. “Is it common for royalties to know details about minor UEU personnel?” Patronizing.
Avoiding the question, Kitera presses him further. “I sense that you have doubts about your orders. You do not fully believe that Serenity is responsible for these events, and you are right to disbelieve. We are not responsible, nor are the Zodiacs.”
“And you know this how? Because your Ciphers tell you so?”
“Yes.”
Rockland is finally able to pull his eyes away from hers, turning his back on the Serenity people, having heard enough from them. He lets out a rude snort. He does not care whether or not this woman is the most important person in Serenity, she is a deluded lunatic, just like any other god-slave in that nation. They do not care about humanity, they only care about pleasing their gods, and whatever rewards they reap from it. Why should an organic species bow to a race of gods?
"Tell me," he starts. "Did your Ciphers warn your people about these events? Did they save the people who perished while their worlds burned around them?"
Kitera knows he is speaking rhetorically, and she knows he is speaking of these events occurring in Serenity territory as much as the UEU's, according to what Mazayus was told by the scout. "We knew nothing of these events until we reached Olympus."
“Bullshit! It’s all over the galaxy!”
“We did not come from this galaxy.”
"Then why did you come to Olympus?"
"It was not part of our mission to come here, but after we were attacked, we were forced to travel to the nearest military planet."
Rockland is growing in anger. This woman is just making up excuses now. They were sent here to stop them from retrieving the data. It is too coincidental for her to be telling the truth.
"Bullshit," he spits again. "You were sent here to stop us. Why else would you kill all my men?"
"Because you were invading our territory and trying to kill us..." Boone answers brashly.
Rockland gives him a chilling glare. "You Paragons invade our territory all the time, destroying our research and killing innocent people!"
"We bring death to those who deserve it," Natheus corrects him coldly.
"And now you're here to kill me. Do I deserve death for following orders and trying to stop more people from being killed by your gods?"
Kitera shakes her head, cutting off Boone’s rude reply. "We are not here to kill you. These events are much larger than the differences between Serenity and the UEU. You will learn nothing from that data you stole, because Serenity knows nothing. The Zodiacs are not responsible.”
Her words are compelling, in a strange, involuntary way. Rockland’s fingers uncurl at his sides, and dangerous conclusions dance across his thoughts as to her following answer. “What is your mission?”
Her eyes sharpen. “Our mission is to save the stars from death, but it seems not only the stars are dying, but our dimension."
The Paragons all snap their heads in her direction, but before Rockland can join in on their curiosity, Zee gives a growl from the helm that seems to magnify the moment.
The Marauding Exile is met by a mountainous moon fragment. Unable to dodge it, Zee morphs more armour plating over the damaged plates of the ship's underside, but the impact has severely ravaged the systems, causing many controls through the ship to momentarily come offline, including the kinetic barrier over the bridge. As the ship spins erratically before stabilizing, everyone is thrown forward with a crack of armour and meat, slamming into the consoles of the cockpit and now flinging loose in a whirlwind of chaotic gravity.
Zee claws into his chair to keep himself rooted down, splashing his hands over the controls, trying to stabilize the Spartan warship. Before victims can pull themselves back to their feet, the systems sud
denly go dark.
“Fuck!” Zee curses violently, throwing his hands in the air as if giving up, only to instantly plant them back into the interface, grains of nanites sent fuming.
"Get a hold of her!" Rockland orders hoarsely, going for the pistol strapped to his thigh, skimming his aim over the rising Paragons scattered over the deck. The only Paragon to challenge this is Deo, slightly approaching Rockland in a threatening manner with his rifle thrust up.
"It's the motherfucking virus! I'm locked out of all systems!" Zee spits out, his eyes mad.
At this, Rockland's aim falters, giving Deo the opportunity to grasp the pistol from him and slam it back into his nose, just enough to summon blood.
As the commander lurches backward from the blow, so does the Marauding Exile after an impact to its stern. The momentum dampeners are brought offline, along with the internal atmospheric stabilizer, sending everybody flying back through the command deck and sliding along the floor, into consoles or bulkheads. The only person spared is Zee, who remains in his chair, almost completely lying against the back of the chair.
The fiery skies and Messiah are blocked by a shadow of colossal size, swallowing the small vessel. Eyes are pulled out the view from the cockpit, not even conscious of each other and their differences now. The momentum dampeners come back online, and as the warship’s interior levels out, the mighty moon fragment can be seen drifting its way right toward the Marauding Exile.
“Zee...” Rockland drones nervously, slowly standing, limbs set rigid.
“Fuck! Oh gods, I’m locked out!” The helmsman thrashes at his dead controls, his breathing erratic.
The commander’s mind races. They cannot use escape pods as there are none left. Do they have any vehicles that are rated for space? No, there are none left. Can they fire on the moon fragment and blow their way through it? No, Zee says the virus has locked him out of all systems... Shields! No, the system is locked. Damn!
Rockland is left speechless, not able to think of any solutions. A hard hitting realisation occurs to him. He is going to die. Go down with his ship. This is it. I am so sorry, I tried, Kagen. Look after your sister.
The Paragons are just as motionless, their visors mirroring the approaching moon fragment, awaiting their deaths, and their dishonour.
Kitera stares deeply into the fires of the cracked moon, catching glimpses of the stars of space behind it. But her stare trails off into nothingness, eyes reaching out in hope.
A pulsation of cyan hints through the air, creating a subtle glow that echoes through the entire ship. Their eyes see fiery energy enwrap them in warmth, watery energy wash them in cold, dusty energy haze over their skin in a slight tingle, and electrified energy play through the air with static.
Light dividing the dark. Fire and ice, danger and safety, death and life.
A great shudder rocks the ship. A violent scream of grinding structure introduces a blear of motion. Tumbling. Colliding. Mangled screams with the snap of bone. Hammering hearts and pounding brains. This time, Zee gives a squeal and is torn out of his chair, joining the others in their hurricane of pandemonium. His body is limp like a ragdoll, at the total whim of his twisting environment. An acute pain bursts in his skull. Darkness.
The Paragons use their entities to soften their impacts, and Boone manages to grab Kitera before her head is met with a wall.
The rolling goes on and on. Have they impacted with the moon? Is this Hell or the Underworld? When will the rolling stop?
And just before one of the UEU analysts is about to release his stomach contents, the rolling stops and the artificial gravity fails due to the virus, leaving bodies, conscious or not, to float weightlessly.
Calm silence fills the ship, a feeling of relief and wonder waving over everyone, cooling the head rush. Their bodies drift. Orange light streams in through the bridge windows again, showing up the speckles of dust in the air. Beyond, they see Olympus cracking with fire, thunder clouds, and deep impacts of the colliding moons. A strange sheet of distorted air vibrates over the planet, like something is trying to rip its way through the fibres of existence, and the azure cosmic dust that surrounds the planet is now slowly being sucked inward by the invisible black hole at its centre.
It is strangely beautiful, how nature can rip itself apart. But this is not natural.
Kitera slips away from Boone's protective arms and glides her body closer to the window, pulling at the walls and the pieces of equipment she can reach and use for leverage. Her eyes well with tears as she casts them upon the dying planet, and as she presses her hands to the window, a small sad sigh escapes her and echoes through the silence of the command deck.
Rockland floats up beside her, a large bruise beginning to form on his forehead, and his nose still bleeding from Deo’s snake attack, blood released in droplets in the zero gravity. He now has no concern for her or the Paragons, only for his dead crew and the destruction before his eyes. The curious fact that they are still alive, is also taking up a portion of his mind. “A black hole in the centre of a planet? Impossible... What could do this?" he asks her. "What the hell is going on?"
Kitera shakes her head, her hair floating freely as if in water. "A power stronger than that of the Zodiacs. A power that can tear apart life itself."
Their eyes are red with the reflection of Olympus burning. The entire continent of Isis has been ripped by its fault line and every volcano has erupted, creating a column of angry red blemishes. Land mass has been swallowed and replaced with molten rock, tides have gone awry and have been sent through the lands with great force and destruction, and the skies have darkened with thick cloud cover and furious lightning. Soon, every continent is engulfed in flames, and every sea falls upon the lands to douse the flames, only to be swallowed again by the widening fissures opening up to the planet core.
"It is not only the planets that are dying, but the stars, the essence of light, gas, force. All matter."
Rockland nods. "Yes. You may not believe it, but things have been much worse than this in UEU territory."
"This is just the beginning," Kitera replies coldly, and when Rockland sneaks a glance at her, the plains of her face are flat, eyes emotionless, mouth firm.
The ship shudders and the artificial gravity comes back online with heaviness, thumping everyone back to the ground.
"Sir, someone's requesting dock. In fact they have initiated an unauthorised docking sequence, but they can't enter until we open the airlock," explains a bridge officer, sporting a broken arm, holding it limply over his chest, the bone protruding through his skin.
Rockland regains his composure and nods while dusting himself off. "Identification?"
"Unknown," answers the officer. "But from scans, we know the docked vessel is an ikamanu."
Kitera gives a smile as she looks out the windows of the bridge, now seeing the cyan entity glide through the space surrounding them. "Altair."
The ikamanu has wrapped itself around the ship, pressing its whale-like stomach to the starboard airlock and morphing the inside nikita skeletal structure of itself to connect with the Marauding Exile’s dock. Its flexible skin moulds around the airlock, capturing the atmosphere.
To any onlookers, it will almost appear as if the ikamanu is trying to mate with the non-organic ship, though ikamanu do not reproduce like most organic species, in fact it is not known if they reproduce at all due to the fact that they do not have genders.
Rockland frowns. "An ikamanu?" he repeats.
The officer nods. “Yes, sir. It appears it is actively overriding the guardian virus and accessing the Marauding Exile’s systems for itself. It brought the artificial gravity back online and is now working on restoring the shields and opening the airlock.”
Mazayus approaches the commander slowly, trying to appear non-aggressive, but he knows that his sheer size and just the fact that he is a Paragon contradicts his manner. "It’s our ship, and the fastest ikamanu that is affiliated with Serenity. If you try to flee, your efforts
will be in vain. Unlock the airlock, or it will. We will speak later."
Rockland stares up at the towering Paragon, somewhat intimidated, but he does not show it. Looking straight back at his visor, Rockland curls his lip in a moment of anger, but now decides that if he does not comply with this Paragon's request, then he will have made a fatal mistake. He gives a subtle nod to the bridge officer, but remains silent, brooding.
With that, Mazayus turns sharply and flicks his head to Kitera and the other three Paragons, directing them to follow him. He leads them across the deck and toward the starboard airlock, where he now waits for it to open to his presence.
As soon as the airlock morphs open, they are greeted with the dark and gloomy insides of Altair, joined by the familiar cyan light and glowing glyphs on its interior walls, floors and ceilings. Nostalgia flows across them all.
A soft rumble flows through the ground as they place their feet down, and now comes the deep hum of the ikamanu as it is pleased by their presence. Its interior is slightly charred from burning entity, and there are cracks along the walls and floor, showing the damage it sustained from the other ikamanu.
How did it survive that?
Kitera's face beams as she treads lightly through the main hall of the sentient ship, her worries of Olympus gone for the moment. She glides up to the wall beside her and lovingly runs her hand over the smooth nikita; the bones of Altair.
"Altair," she whispers again, her hand tracing the symbol on the wall that glows at her.
"How did it survive?" Natheus ponders aloud, morphing his helmet off his head and letting his true vision take in the sight of the ship he has called home for the past seven years.
Boone makes his way to the wall on the opposite side of the hall, beside Kitera. "It's fast, nothing can keep up with it," he says proudly, smacking roughly at the wall as if giving a dog a firm pat. "Aren't ya, boy." Nobody corrects his misuse of the ship’s orientation.
Deo scans the cracks in the wall. He walks with the very faintest limp, his wounds growing in pain. "It's taken a lot of damage," he says, his rock-hard voice echoing through the hall as he feels at the crack with his armoured fingers. "The nikita should heal in a few days, but it might not travel as quickly as it usually would until it fully heals."
