Course Correction

by Christian Kallias

  The Spectre’s thirst to avenge Tanak’Vor was burning inside him like a perpetual flame. Just like his brother before him, the fate of his family hung in the balance should he fail in his mission. He had to believe that Spectre Prime wouldn’t use his wife and only child in retaliation for Tanak’Vor’s failure.

  With the fleet reduced to only a handful of damaged ships, the task would take longer than initially planned and would require both finesse and patience, none of these virtues being the Spectre’s strong suit.

  1

  Earth - Auckland, New Zealand.

  Emperor Altair sat at his desk in Earth Alliance Headquarters. The tall red-skinned humanoid was pensive as he reviewed his agenda for the day. The doorbell rang.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The doors split open, and Captain Daniel Tharraleos stepped inside.

  “Ah, Daniel, thanks for coming. Please take a seat.”

  “It’s good to see you, Emperor.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Altair?”

  Daniel chuckled. “That’s still going to take some time for me to get used to. To think a few years back we were mortal enemies bound to destroy one another, and now we’re calling each other by our first names. Do you ever think about that?”

  “Not really, no. The old me, the ruthless Obsidian Emperor is, as far as I’m concerned, dead. In fact, I think I need to ask the council to give me an Earth Alliance rank now. I don’t like my title anymore, it reminds me of a time where I was much too concerned about my own power. It’s no longer who I am. If that makes any sense.”

  “It does, and you’ve certainly come a long way. In fact, we’re lucky to have you lead the Earth Alliance. You’ve been instrumental in us winning the Fury War.”

  Altair shook his head. “We both know that’s not true, but that’s very kind of you to say. Chase and the rest of you are the reason we’re sitting here this morning, at peace, and without the threat of impending doom looming over our heads.”

  Daniel smiled. “And you don’t give yourself enough credit, Emp—” Daniel corrected himself with a smile, “Altair. You’ve saved our collective asses more times than I can count. Speaking of Chase, though,” his brows furrowing, “any news? He’s not exactly been answering my calls lately.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t heard from Chase in a while. Don’t take it personally, though. I know the two of you are very good friends—”

  “With all due respect, we’re— we were more than that, we were brothers,” Daniel said with no small amount of sadness in his voice. “Which is why I’m having such a hard time without him being around.”

  “I understand. He’s lost so much in bringing us victory. War is unfair that way. To ask so much of an individual and to reward him with loss and sorrow is…”

  “Cruel, I know. That’s what war does,” said Daniel solemnly.

  Altair nodded. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look tired.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’m sorry; when we talked at the party last night, I thought you were kidding when you said you might not rest.”

  “I thought I was, but somehow I ended up staring at the ceiling of my quarters. I also had a little too much to eat and drink at the celebration, so, yeah, sleep eluded me.”

  “Did you at least enjoy yourself?”

  “Oh yeah, the Earth Alliance can definitely throw quite a celebratory party. Everything was top notch, the food, the open bar.”

  Altair smiled.

  “It was good seeing all our friends in one place, well, most of our friends anyway.”

  “I hoped to see Chase there too. But I guess he wasn’t ready to be among his friends and loved ones just yet.”

  “I think, at least for the time being, that we may be a constant reminder of what he’s lost.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. Speaking of last night, congratulations on your speech. I’d love to hear more about that space station you want to build.”

  “Well, as of this morning, we have a name: Alkyonidon Station.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  They both laughed.

  “It’s been my pet project since right after the end of the war. We need a place, central to the Alliance, to have diplomatic ties between all the members of the Alliance, old and new. The Fury War shook our universe; we’ve been on the brink of annihilation, and it’s only for the sacrifices of brave men and women that we survived the onslaught. At first, when I proposed the idea, I was met with resistance by the council.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “At the moment, there is no known enemy intent on wiping out all our lives. So why would we want a station dedicated to peace rather than focusing on rebuilding what was lost? Let’s just say that some of my colleagues don’t think we need such a place.”

  “I, for one, understand, and I’m glad you changed their minds. Peace is a wonderful thing, but I believe it must be cultivated, or we run the risk of repeating past mistakes. Not to mention that we may yet face new threats in the future.”

  “My thoughts exactly, and we can already see some factions making their move to fill in the power voids throughout remote places in the Alliance. Pirates mostly and nothing we can’t handle, but the sooner we can put a coherent, multi-system government in place dedicated to peacekeeping the better. That’s why I’m glad you see things my way. In fact, that’s why I’m looking for a commanding officer of Alkyonidon Station.”

  Daniel’s face dropped. “Me? You want me to command the station?”

  “Why, yes. You seem surprised.”

  “I am. I— I mean I’m honored you’d think of me, but I’m mostly a pilot.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Daniel, you did an incredible job in the last battle around Erevos, commanding a large destroyer fleet to victory is not just the doing of a pilot.”

  “The only reason I was put in charge was that both Sarah and Athena were needed elsewhere. Though, ironically, Athena never got to fight the Spectre. And let’s not forget if it wasn’t for Gaia’s last-minute weapons upgrades to the Victory, we might have lost that battle.”

  “It doesn’t matter how it happened. You were in command, and you did an excellent job in a position you were thrust into under extreme circumstances. At the end of the day, that’s what both history and I will remember. And that’s why I want you for this job.”

  “Well, thank you, Altair. It’s just, well— I had imagined something else.”

  “Did you, now? What did you think the job would be?”

  “Starship Captain, really.”

  “Yes, and if we were still at war, I would give you your own command on the spot, but if I were to do that now, it would mean you patrolling Alliance territory day in and day out. Perhaps you’d engage with some pirates and maintain order in some desolate part of the galaxy, but I doubt it would be a fulfilling position for you.”

  Altair could see Daniel was thinking about what he just said.

  “Perhaps, but you’re assuming that I’m looking for excitement.”

  “Aren’t you? Even if only on a subconscious level? I know the last year has been a transition phase for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss war, not in the least. And while it’s been nice taking time off and enjoying life, the fact of the matter is that we’ve been warriors for most of our lives. I anticipate it will take a while longer to get used to this new paradigm.”

  “Yes, I can confirm that I haven’t found the transition to peace as easy as I thought it would be. For some reason waking up in the morning not knowing if today would be the day I bit the dust wasn’t fun, but it was a great motivator. Without the thrill of the fight, I do spend most days bored out of my skull. Slowly, but surely, I’m getting used to beginning a new day in peaceful conditions. Still, even if I were to look for excitement, I’m not sure commanding a diplomatic space station will deliver, even compared to commanding a starship that’s mostly doing patrol run
s.”

  “You’d be surprised. This Alliance has grown a lot in a very short time, and while we have tried to project an image of unity in the stellar broadcasts, bringing so many different races into a unified coalition has not been all that easy. It would be best for you not to see this position as a retreat of any kind, it will challenge both your patience and your nerves. We fought hard to achieve peace, and without sounding too alarmist, my gut tells me we may need to fight just as hard to keep it.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that. Are there tensions building in the Alliance already?”

  “Nothing major, but some old feuds are brooding now that races that didn’t cohabitate with others are brought into the bigger picture. Take the Ferogot and the Droxians for instance, once upon a time they were at war, and now they’re asked to sit at the same table. That’s bound to cause some friction.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “But where are my manners,” continued Altair. “Can I offer you a drink? I could go for a strong coffee myself.”

  “Coffee sounds really good, thank you.”

  “How do you like yours?”

  “Black, please.”

  Altair pressed a few holo-controls on his glass desk and shortly after two circles of yellow light flashed as two cups of steaming hot coffees materialized.

  “That’s a neat trick, do you have a synthesizer built into your desk?”

  “Not exactly, there’s one in the room, but Yanis was kind enough to install the latest generation transporters in this facility.”

  Daniel grabbed his cup and took a timid sip, evaluating the temperature of the liquid.

  “So, we’re beaming down coffee now?”

  Altair smiled. “So to speak. That’s one of the advantages of this Alliance. While Yanis and Cedric had managed to build a crude teleportation system back when my fleet was trying to invade Earth, the common technological knowledge of all the different races of the Alliance has allowed us to make a substantial technological jump forward these past months. I’m beaming in and out of the office on a daily basis, that’s how advanced that tech has made it in a short amount of time.”

  Daniel took another sip of his coffee.

  “Good coffee, thanks. I take it access to the Asgardian tech has made that particular trick easier.”

  “Yes, the Asgardian beaming technology is definitely the most advanced in the Alliance, and our implementation of it is closely modeled after theirs.”

  “As is their hyperspace engines.”

  “Indeed, but integrating that one with our ship’s designs has been problematic. Asgardians are one of the only races that don’t use quadrinium to power their ships. And the material they need to do so, some sort of amethyst crystal formation only native to Asgard, will make it hard for us to streamline the tech since the crystal is both rare and very hard to mine.”

  “Perhaps there are other worlds on which it can be found.”

  Altair drank from his cup.

  “Yes, that’s one of the many things I’m hoping the Alkyonidon Station can help us with. Establish a central place for trade so that every world in the Alliance can help reap its benefit. But, that’s a conversation for another day, that is if you’re interested in my proposal.”

  Daniel finished his coffee and placed the cup back on the yellow glowing circle on Altair’s desk. The cup beamed away.

  “Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but do you mind if I take a few days to think it over?”

  “Of course not, Daniel. It will take months for the station to be fully operational, though I’m hoping that we can start sending a skeleton crew on board within a few weeks. But I don’t need the CO to be there before any of that happens. Which gives you plenty of time to decide.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. I take it we have the Gorgar to thank for having the station built so rapidly?”

  “Absolutely, they’re almost finished with the central deck of the station already. It’s a marvel the speed at which they can build things.”

  “Yeah, it’s a marvel, as long as our goals are aligned, that is.”

  Altair finished his cup as well and dropped it on his desk before it disappeared.

  “Yes, that particular alliance took a lot of doing, and whether it will stand the test of time still needs to be determined. But for the time being, the Gorgar race seem to recognize that our shaky start was a necessary one. They won’t admit it openly of course, but I think they feel partially responsible for many of the millions that died in the war. They were after all, though unwillingly, arming the Furies.”

  “The Furies used them, then so did we. Not our finest hour…”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Speaking of Gorgars, it was good seeing Tar’Lock yesterday. Though he left shortly before we met with you and Ryonna. I take it he’s still mad at her?”

  Altair looked straight into Daniel’s eyes for a few seconds.

  “You’d have to ask her. I’d rather not interfere in their affairs.”

  Daniel smiled.

  “Well, thanks again for the coffee. I appreciate you thinking of me for the position.”

  Both men got up and shook hands.

  “You’re welcome, Daniel. Always a pleasure, and I’m looking forward to hearing what you decide.”

  “Likewise, Altair. I’ll try and get back to you in a few days.”

  Spiros was working on an upgrade to the shield matrix design on the latest generation destroyer fresh off the assembly. While the war was over, the work to better both weapons and defensive technologies was not. Emperor Altair, who presided over the council for the Earth Alliance, was wary of letting the Alliance lower its guard and be vulnerable to another attack.

  That’s a concern Spiros could easily get on board with. After all, they knew little to nothing about the Spectres, and while the Furies had finally been dealt with, killing Tanak’Vor had been incredibly difficult. If more of his race were out there, the Earth Alliance should not let their guard down. The ship they had engaged with during the last days of the war, a spider ship, was technologically more advanced than anything the Alliance possessed, and that’s why the Emperor had given him this assignment. And here he was, in space again, inside the latest shipyard, working on bettering the new destroyers’ shields and other weapons capabilities. For a moment, it reminded him of his research days on Damocles Fall. It felt like another lifetime and another Spiros.

  In many ways it was. Thanks to Chase transferring his soul to a new and improved clone, he currently had the body of a thirty-year-old, when, in fact, he was in his eighties. Part of him wished he had never been brought back to life. But he knew that way of thinking was selfish. Even if his reunion with Gaia had been short and the pain of her sacrifice still fresh and agonizing, deep down he knew he wouldn’t have wanted to miss a minute of their time together.

  Spiros had been back to active duty for a little over two months. He was seeing a counselor to help him grieve the loss of Gaia. But no matter how much he talked about her in counseling, the fact remained that he missed her more than anyone could ever comprehend.

  An incoming transmission interrupted his train of thought. It came from a StarFury. When Spiros accepted the call, Chase’s face filled the holo-screen.

  “Chase! You’re the last person I expected to hear from. How have you been doing?”

  “Hello, Spiros. I’ve been better, but thanks for asking. Of all my friends, I’m sure you’re the one that has a better inkling as to what I’ve been feeling lately.”

  Of course, Spiros knew what Chase was alluding to. For all intents and purposes, he had lost Sarah, along with their unborn child, and had become estranged with a lot of his friends, which was something Spiros had progressively felt as well. While Cedric, Yanis, and even Kvasir had been very good colleagues, the bond that once united them seemed to have diminished in the last few months. Perhaps Spiros had been responsible for that as he had willingly sought loneliness over socializing.

  “I do,�
�� said Spiros solemnly, “and I’m sorry to hear you’re still grieving. But Chase, Sarah isn’t dead, there’s still a chance, no matter how small, that you could bring her back. I would give everything to be in your position.”

  Chase frowned, sadness crawling behind his eyes.

  “I know, Spiros. I’m sorry, poor choice of words.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Chase. I understand. We all have our crosses to bear.”

  “Thank you for your understanding as well as for your friendship. It means a lot to me. I’m not sure I’m worth your friendship. I’m the one who asked Gaia to try and find the blink drive. I’d think you would not want to have anything to do with me since I’m directly responsible for her death.”

  Spiros had gone down this path often, when the pain was too strong, right after losing Gaia. But he knew she would hate him for blaming Chase. Without the Atlantian tech, and Gaia’s brave sacrifice, Earth would have been destroyed.

  “It was her choice to make, Chase, you didn’t force her to do anything she wasn’t willing to do on her own. And if you hadn’t asked her to, we might have lost the war. I don’t blame you for any of it. Sometimes life is unfair, as you well know.”

  Chase nodded.

  “I’m sure you’re not calling me to talk about all of this,” Spiros continued. “What is it I can do for you?”

  “Am I that transparent? Fair enough, though. I am indeed calling for something else. I just don’t know how to ask you.”

  “Then just ask.”

  “Very well. I’ve decided to take a ship to the unknown regions of space.”

  “I see. To try and find a cure for Sarah?”

  “Yes. It seems everything we’ve tried in conjunction with the Earth Alliance is not yielding any results, so I am left with little choice but to try something new. I don’t want to take a human crew aboard the ship. This is my responsibility, I can’t ask others to risk their lives.”