by A A Warren
"I wouldn’t exactly call us innocent." Avra glanced over her shoulder, as the rustling of the plants rose in volume. “Do you know where this Soul Vault is?”
Talon shook his head. “No. But Salena told me who does.” He pointed the shaft of his axe towards Orvane. “Him.”
The alien looked up, and his wide glowing eyes filled with surprise. “Me? How would I know?”
“First things first,” Avra said, drawing her pistol. “We have to get back to the ship. And that means fighting through those plants again.”
Talon powered up his axe. The fiery orange glow of the plasma blade reflected in his crystal eye, sending a prism of crimson light beams through the ruins. “That’s right,” he snarled. “So we better get moving. And I swear by the Haunted Stars, if those things try to steal the face of Orex Griff again, I’ll burn every last plant I find on this rock!”
Chapter Thirty
A tremor ran through the deck plates of the Serpentar as the massive vessel plowed through a colorful cloud of dust and debris. The engine drone was a low rumble, barely audible over the hiss of life support systems and the crackling hum of power relays. The holo-displays on the bridge showed only static… the helmsman navigated by vision alone, piloting the ship based on what little he could see beyond the windows of the bridge.
Volonte sat on a raised command chair, peering out into the clouds with his glowing red eyes. Angelos stood at attention on the right side of his chair, while the cloaked sorcerer Dulkar hunched over to his left.
“Increase forward thrusters by ten percent,” Volonte ordered. His voice was quiet and thoughtful. He seemed distracted by the beautiful streaks of color outside the transparent portals at the ship’s bow.
The helmsman gave Angelos a nervous look, but said nothing. He turned back to his console and pushed forward on the thruster controls. The engine hum grew louder, and the massive vessel cruised through the wispy trails of stellar gas.
Volonte peered across the vast gulf of space with an intense, penetrating gaze, as though he could see something in the haze that the others could not. The servos in his left arm clicked as he pointed to a tiny, luminous speck in the distance. It was barely visible amidst the trails of dust and gas. But as the ship rumbled closer, it grew brighter, more distinct. It twinkled in the dark void, reflecting the kaleidoscopic glow of the nebula surrounding them.
“There,” he hissed. “You see? It is just as I told you. The Zedrakon scrolls, the tabeki… everything has been leading us here.”
Angelos frowned as he examined the data streaming across the nearest holo-display.
“But Captain, the gravitational forces at those coordinates… they could tear this ship apart! And with all this stellar debris, we’re flying blind. I don’t think—”
Volonte rose to his feet and stepped down to the deck. His eyes locked onto the tiny pinpoint of light in the distance. “I am not interested in your thoughts, Angelos. That is a Zedrakon Soul Vault. The treasure within is beyond anything your pathetic human greed can imagine.”
He turned to a woman sitting at another crew station. “You there… increase magnification!”
The woman spun in her chair and kicked her feet up onto her console. She tapped the display controls with the heel of her boot. A glowing red hologram blinked to life, hovering over a small circular platform in the center of the bridge. “On display,” she said.
Angelos gasped. The holo-display projected a massive shard of rock, drifting through the vibrant clouds. It hung like a dagger in space, its sharp, narrow point poised to strike beneath a mountain of stone and crystal formations. “By the gods… what is that thing?”
As the flickering image spun around, a towering metal face came into view, set into the side of the drifting mountain. The massive sculpture’s sharp, sloped brow perched over bulging, dome-like eyes. The face’s expression was one of serene arrogance. And despite the structure’s apparent age, its angular metal features remained smooth and polished, seemingly unaffected by collisions with rocks or debris.
Angelos turned to Volonte. “Captain, that face! It’s… I mean, it looks like—”
“It looks like me,” Volonte said, staring at the hologram. “It is the face of my people. The face of a true warrior. Lay in a course for the Soul Vault. Bring us closer!”
The helmsman gritted his teeth, but did as he was ordered. Another tremor ran through the deck plates, and the hull groaned as they drew closer to the colossal floating rock. Within minutes, the metal face was visible through the windows. Even at a distance, it dwarfed the mighty vessel cruising towards it.
Volonte turned to the cloaked figure standing next to him. “It is time, my friend.”
Dulkar gave a brief bow. “I have studied the Zedrakon scrolls, My Lord. And I made use of our captive to increase my dark energy reserves. But I must remind you… nothing is certain. I am not Zedrakon, and you are not a high priest. I will use my powers to mask our presence, but there is a chance the vault’s defense systems will activate. It may even target us as invaders.”
Volonte’s fingers made a clanking sound as he clenched them into a fist. “That is a risk I am willing to accept. I must know… I must know if what I seek is inside. Do whatever is necessary.”
Dulkar bowed again, then stepped out onto the holo-display’s platform. The glowing image flickered and buzzed as he walked through it, heading towards the sloped windows that rose up over the bridge. He stopped and looked out over the vast metal face. Its towering features glared down at him with frozen indifference. The ship drifted closer, and the sculpted visage filled the windows, blocking the stars and the heavens beyond from view.
The alien’s visor glowed, casting a faint reflection in the glass. The speakers in his armored helmet carried his half-whispered chants across the bridge. The crew shifted in their seats, and the helmsman looked away, pretending to examine his instruments. The stale, recycled air seemed to shift and swirl around them, crackling with the potential of unrealized power, eager to be released.
A glowing aura surrounded Dulkar. His feet floated off the deck plates. Tendrils of dark energy erupted from the cracks and joints in his armor, lifting his body into the air.
His chanting grew louder… he spoke ancient, long forgotten words, shouting to be heard over the cyclone of wind and energy that surrounded him. The bolts of energy cast a flickering glare over Volonte’s battered metal body. He turned his gaze from the sorcerer to the windows, watching as the great metal face loomed closer to the ship.
Grunting with exertion, Dulkar held his arms out and twisted them in a circle. He threw his entire body into the motion, as if he were fighting against a great weight. He cried out in pain… the sound was a high-pitched wave of static, exploding from the speakers in his helmet. The bolts of energy followed his movements, crackling in the air around him.
“Captain… Look!” The woman at the holo-display controls leapt to her feet and point out the forward windows. “It's moving!”
Volonte’s metal lips pulled into a fierce grin. “I have seen this place in my dreams… Eons of nightmares, ages of loss. Now, finally, it opens to receive me.”
Outside the vessel, the giant face began to shift and move. Its mouth gaped open, revealing a grate of sharp metal fangs. Each gleaming spire was larger than the Serpentar itself. The gigantic metal plates continued rumbling apart with a slow, jerking motion. And yet as gargantuan as the face’s maw was, the massive machinery moved in total silence, muted by the cold vacuum of space.
Finally, the monstrous jaws locked in place. Dulkar collapsed to the ground, wheezing for breath. As he fell to his hands and knees, stray bolts of energy arced across his body, then dissipated into the air.
Volonte walked over to him, his heavy metal feet thudding across the deck. He helped the exhausted sorcerer to his feet.
“I… I have expended the last of my dark energy, My Lord,” Dulkar gasped. “I need time to recover. I must regain my strength for what lies ahead.
”
Volonte’s metal fingers gripped the shoulder of Dulkar’s containment suit. “You have done well my friend. Go now, rest.”
The sorcerer nodded and limped off the bridge. As the doors hissed closed behind him, Volonte returned to his command chair. “Helm,” he shouted. “The vault has opened… take us inside.”
Angelos slammed his fist on the railing “Wait, belay that order!” The helmsman froze, his fingers hovering over the thruster controls.
The first officer turned to Volonte. “Captain, flying into that thing without full sensor capacity is suicide! We should at least scout the perimeter, try to make sense of these disruptive gravity waves before we—”
Volonte exploded into motion. The servo-motors in his legs hummed, propelling him across the deck in a terrifying burst of speed. With a loud clank, his gleaming sword emerged above his clenched fist. He swung the weapon in a powerful arc, slicing through the outlaw’s neck.
Angelos was dead before he could even react. His head bounced at his feet and rolled across the deck. A mist of blood sprayed through the air, spattering the helmsman and his console.
Volonte spun around, glaring at the rest of the startled crew. He pointed his bloodstained blade at the corpse that lay before him.
“This man feared death. Yet death claimed him all the same. That is the penalty for disobeying my orders. One way or another, you all will enter the Soul Vault. You can fly there of your own free will… or I shall eject your remains into space, and you can drift through its innards with the rest of the cosmic debris.”
The blade clanked again as he retracted it into his arm. His fiery red gaze moved over the shocked faces of the crew. He turned to the woman, whose feet were still propped up on her console. “You… what is your name?”
She slowly withdrew her feet, and sat up straight. “Aviarux, Captain.”
Volonte nodded. “Aviarux… you will replace Angelos as my first officer. Now, I believe I gave an order… unless you have any objections?”
The woman slid out her chair and marched over to the first officer’s position, standing next to the command railing. She shot a quick glance at the corpse sprawled across the deck. Bubbling blood still pulsed from its neck, and stained the deck plates.
She turned to face the crew. “You heard the Captain! Helm… take us in!”
The helmsman wiped the red droplets from his face with his hand. His fingers danced across the glowing controls, entering in a new course. Volonte glared down at Avriarux for a moment, then stomped back to his chair and sat down.
“Course entered,” the helmsman said in a shaky voice. “Approaching the object now.”
“Very well,” Volonte said, leaning forward. His optical sensors dimmed for a moment as he squinted at the massive face beyond the windows. Then they blazed back to life, glowing even brighter than before. “Take us in.”
The ship’s engines rumbled louder, and the vessel surged forward. A shadow moved over the windows as the ship glided between the jagged metal fangs. The blinking holo-displays were the only sources of light on the bridge. The darkness within the ancient vault swallowed up the battleship, and the vessel vanished into the towering metal face.
Chapter Thirty-One
ADUARA SYSTEM
The Gyre, Wild Space
Later…
Gesa was one of twelve planets orbiting the glowing orb of fire known as Aduara. The sun was a red dwarf star, a compact orb of plasma gas with a relatively small habitable zone. Planets too close to the star’s intense fusion reactions experienced blistering waves of infra-red radiation. The temperature output was hot enough to boil oceans, and burn away any trace of an atmosphere capable of sustaining life.
Those too far away suffered the opposite effects… Freezing cold, with temperatures plummeting close to absolute zero.
But Gesa was one of the few planets in the system that circled the crimson star at just the right distance. The planet’s dense cloud layer trapped heat, maintaining habitable temperatures throughout its orbit around the tiny red sun.
But as Gesa continued along its elliptical orbit, a shimmering ripple of energy appeared in the dark stellar void between the planet and its sun. The glowing halo grew brighter, then exploded outwards, filling the cold depths of space with a blinding white light. When it faded, a new object orbited between the star and the other planets… a tumbling metal pyramid floated through space, its surface lined with ancient symbols and concentric beams of red light.
Tiny thruster jets maneuvered the massive object into position… the pyramid’s wide, flat base faced the star. Giant metal panels slid apart, revealing a crackling energy membrane beneath. Beyond the glowing barrier, the chamber within the pyramid was vast… it stretched thousands of kilometers into the innards of the dark structure. A faint light rose from deep inside, like a nascent sunrise on a distant horizon.
Beneath the floating pyramid, the sun’s fusion reactions grew stronger… the star burned hotter, flinging trails of fiery plasma and incendiary radiation into the depths of space with greater intensity. As the solar flares erupted outward, the tip of the pyramid began to pulse with light… then it glowed, white hot, like a second star, newly born in the heavens.
The pyramid continued to adjust its heading, slowly pointing the speartip of light towards the orange radiance of Gesa, far off in the distant void.
PLANET GESA
The Gyre, Wild Space
Marshal Waylan groaned as he reached up into the supply cubby on the wall behind his desk. His leathery face scrunched into a wince of pain, but he continued rummaging in the tiny cubicle until his fingers brush against a smooth glass bottle. Smiling, despite the aches and pains in his spine, the old man pulled the bottle free and hobbled back to his desk.
He sighed as he fell back into his chair. Then he opened the bottle and inhaled the scent of the rust brown liquid inside.
“Ahhh… Gesan ‘shine,” he muttered to himself. “Those gas farmers know how to drink.”
He tipped the bottle, filling a dented metal cup on his desk. Then he flipped the top closed and set it down. He lifted the cup to his lips, but before he could take a sip, an alarm buzzed on his console. A spinning blue emergency light blazed above his head, bathing the dusty little office in a cool glow.
The marshal froze in his chair, peering at the holo-display above his desk. His lips moved in silence as he read the confirmation code that flashed across the screen. He set down the cup and tapped the response code into his console. It flashed green, confirming the origin of the transmission. But he already knew what it was. The spinning blue light could mean only one thing…
Priority One hyper-transmission, he thought. From the Order the Blue Star’s citadel.
The holo-projector shimmered to life, banishing the shadows to the far corners of the outpost. A flickering image hovered in the center of the office… a tall woman dressed in gleaming white battle armor, with a blue velvet cloak draped over her shoulder. A tinted visor hid her eyes, but her mouth curled in a grim frown. A pair of marshals stood at attention behind her, their pulse rifles held at the ready.
Waylan forced himself to stand straighter. He slid the cup and bottle to side of his desk, hoping they would not appear in his holo-transmission. Then he held his fist over his heart and thumped his chest. “Regional Commander Arlen! Marshal Lenz Waylan, acknowledging Priority One Signal!”
The woman in the hologram nodded. “As you were, Waylan. Tell me, how many deputies do you have with you on Gesa?”
The marshal lowered himself back into the chair. The springs creaked and groaned as he leaned back and squinted at the hologram. “No deputies, Commander. Your, uh, predecessor cut back on manpower in the Gyre. Said our resources were stretched too thin in the unclaimed territories.”
The commander grit her teeth, then exhaled. “Very well… I’m sending a cruiser your way with some extra marshals. In the meantime, you’d best issue a call for volunteers. Deputize as many able-bodied c
itizens as you can. Offer a reward, clear their criminal records… whatever you have to do. Get some badges in the street, ASAP.”
Waylan leaned forward. “Yes Commander, but why—?”
“Check your console,” Arlen snapped. “I just sent you a data package. Approximately twenty minutes ago, an alien object appeared in orbit around Gesa’s sun.”
Waylan tapped his console and a second hologram sprung to life, rotating in the air. He stroked his beard as he examined the glowing metal pyramid spinning before him.
“Appeared? Appeared from where? Is it a vessel of some kind?”
The commander shook her head. “We have no idea. One minute there was nothing there but empty space. The next… this thing materialized in orbit around the Aduara star. Our technologists are still analyzing the data, but it appears to be interfering with the star’s fusion process somehow. Solar flare activity is increasing at a massive rate. The object seems to be storing the energy, building up a power surge.”
Waylan’s eyes darted over the stream of data. The endless lines of figures and calculations might as well have been alien gibberish. He cleared his throat.
“Er, I’m no technologist, Commander. But according to these coordinates, the tip of that thing is pointing right at Gesa.”
“That’s right. And its energy levels are beyond anything we’ve ever seen. At this point, its theoretical output is far greater than the Aduara star itself. Whatever that thing is, it has Gesa in its sights.”
Waylan’s mouth went dry. He coughed and licked his lips. “Commander, you can’t mean… do the technologists think this is a weapon of some kind?”
“After what happened at Zakarba, we’re not taking any chances. Gravimetric disturbances have been popping up all throughout the region. No one knows what in the blazes is going on.”
“You said you were sending reinforcements? Are they going to intercept this object?”
