by Chris Fox
Then Fizgig strode boldly from the room, and the Tigris followed without another word.
Chapter 9- Reid
Reid turned the copilot's chair, shaking from even that little effort. He hadn't left the chair in two days, and knew now that he'd never be leaving it. He was becoming something else, a more direct servant of the masters.
That terrified him. He worried that nothing of his old self, the man Bruce Reid, would survive.
"That is not the case," a voice intoned in his mind, "though such a fate is common when creating new vessels. Little of the host survives, unless I will it so."
"And you...will it so?" Reid asked, forcing himself to swallow. It was growing increasingly difficult. "Why?"
"Because you are a useful tool, vessel Reid. Your unique consciousness will be preserved, and, in the process, your understanding of the universe," the voice continued. It was too loud in his head. "Your species is new, and possesses vast potential. You will be my first experiment, when your new body is fully birthed. Yet we cannot wait for that auspicious event. I have work for you, my servant."
"Tell me, master," Reid said, swiveling back to the cockpit controls.
"You will go to the Torava system, near the galactic core. There you will meet your fleet, which you will use to secure the world," the voice commanded. "Nothing is to approach it. Your Judicators will center their defenses around the central library. The master core there must be protected. It must not fall into the hands of entity Nolan."
"Why is the core so important?" Reid asked.
"It may hold information regarding the location of the Birthplace. Nothing is more important than that, and our enemies cannot be allowed to reach it," the voice instructed, its tone even more intense.
"Of course, master," Reid said, licking his lips. Leaning forward, he wrapped his pale hand around the yoke and guided the Sparhawk toward the sun, then leaned back in exhaustion. He turned his head slightly, croaking out the words "Em, where are you?"
"Right here, sir." A shimmering blue hologram appeared--the ship's VI. He'd ordered it shut off, but after he'd lost his crew he had no choice but to reactivate her.
"Guide us to the Helios Gate. Set a course for Torava. Wake me when we arrive," he gasped, out of breath simply from speaking. Then he fell back, closing his eyes. He'd rest until he arrived.
Chapter 10- It's a start
"So what do you have for me?" Nolan asked, striding into the lab. He was mildly surprised by the array of equipment now covering the counters. This place had begun as a makeshift field lab, but Atrea had turned it into a fully functional science facility. Most of that had come when they'd met briefly with the Primo after the Battle of Tigrana. Between the Primo and the 14th Fleet they'd been able to take on just about everything they needed to make the ship livable.
"Less than we'd hope in some areas," Lena replied, tail drooping. Her gaze drifted to the stasis pod standing against one wall. Kathryn lay within, bathed by a soft blue glow. Her dark hair framed her sleeping face. At least she looked at peace. "She's stable, but the parasite is still growing. The stasis pod slows that, but if we can't find a solution in the next few months she's not going to survive."
Nolan studied Kathryn for a moment, a jumbling mix of emotions bubbling up. He shoved them right back down again, with the expert skill he'd developed since being placed in command. "Thanks," he said, forcing himself to look back at Lena. "I was talking about the master core. Have you found anything about the Birthplace? Or the Forge?"
"We have," Atrea said, removing a pair of Primo-sized safety goggles. She stepped away from an experiment, something growing in a Petri dish. "Concrete data, though I don't believe it will be of immediate use. The second empire had many treatises on the Birthplace. Some believed it was mythological, but the general consensus was that it was based on a real place."
"The Primo believed it was a literal birthplace," Lena interjected. "But they are unclear what exactly was born there. Their species? Something else? Their myths contradict each other. Many scientists devoted their entire lives to finding it, but were unsuccessful. Common belief was that the Birthplace was never found. However, its location is always referenced as being near the galactic core."
"What's at the galactic core?" Nolan asked. He knew it was a hazardous area of space, and that most races avoided it. He didn't know why.
"The galactic core is a supermassive black hole," Lena explained. "We can't see it, but we can see the hole in space where we'd expect to find light. The Birthplace is somewhere near a black hole several million times the size of your sun."
"So we need to somehow find this place, even though an entire Primo empire couldn't do it after thousands of years of trying?" Nolan asked, leaning against a counter. He folded his arms, suppressing a sigh. It was fine for things to be hard, but this seemed impossible. "Do you have anything that might help?"
"Note that Lena said 'common belief,'" Atrea said, giving a tiny smile. "Lena has a theory, a rather brilliant one. Tell him, little sister."
Lena's tail rose, and she gave a soft purr. "The master core contains all sorts of data, including military files. Many of the references to the Birthplace are sealed or redacted. Someone scrubbed the data, intentionally. I believe that the second Primo empire knew where and what the Birthplace was. The Forge, too. I think they intentionally stayed away, and made sure that none of their people could find it, either."
"Why?" Nolan asked, blinking. "And if they redacted it, how can we find it?"
"The files make reference to a first era repository," Atrea burst in, hopping up and down so badly she tripped over her own words. "Lena and I are building a list of potential worlds where that repository may have been housed. The second era maintained it, and I'm betting it's still intact. If we can find that world, we may be able to find the Birthplace."
It wasn't perfect, but it was what they had. "That's excellent news," Nolan said. "Get me the list of potential worlds as soon as possible, and we'll start the search."
Chapter 11- Jaguara
Fizgig took a deep breath, steadying herself as her new flagship emerged from the sun. They'd entered the Sabis system, the homeworld of the oldest surviving pride, the Jaguara. The Jaguara rarely met with other Tigris, unless it was to do battle. They protected their space ferociously, and there was every possibility the Jaguara would attack rather than listen.
Normally Fizgig would never have considered approaching them, but with humanity weakened and the Primo behaving foolishly, she had little choice. They needed every warrior and every ship to have even a prayer of victory.
"Calix, check in with all captains. Have them cluster around us. Make sure they know not to cloak," Fizgig ordered, straightening on her cushions. She was uncomfortable, her leg aching from the long journey. Yet it ached less than yesterday, and tomorrow it would ache still less.
"Done, Mighty Fizgig," Calix rumbled, bent low over the communications console. He was an adequate replacement for Izzy, just barely. Fizgig missed Izzy's bold flying. "The Jaguara fleet is clustered around the fourth world. I'm counting nearly two hundred vessels, and of those, roughly a hundred ships of the line."
"Get me Mighty Khar," Fizgig ordered. The Jaguara respected the Leonis, and it looked more and more like Khar would end up being their new leader. He should be present for negotiations.
"Mighty Fizgig," Calix said, turning hesitantly toward her. "His first says he is unavailable."
"Unavailable?" Fizgig said, not bothering to suppress the low growl. "I want him on the line, now."
"Yes, Mighty Fizgig," Calix said, bobbing his head. He turned back to his console.
It was quiet for a few moments; none of her bridge crew were willing to meet her gaze. They could sense her agitation and were wise enough not to provoke her. Fizgig shifted uncomfortably, debating a trip to Khar's vessel. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary, as she couldn't conceive of a more unnecessary distraction.
"Mighty Fizgig, he is ready to speak to you
," Calix said. The view screen flared to life, and Fizgig's tail sank. She could only stare. Words were a long time coming.
"What have you done?" she asked, barely above a whisper. She was transfixed. Horrified.
"What I must to fight the Void Wraith." Khar's voice was strangely the same, though it was the only thing unchanged. Where Khar had been now stood a twelve-foot armored behemoth, one she knew well.
Khar had become an Alpha Judicator.
"Dryker gave permission for the infirm or injured, Khar. You have defied his decree. I know he is human, but we swore to follow him. That makes him your commander, and this audacity...how could you show Dryker such disrespect?"
"I was injured," Khar roared, his giant blue face leaning closer to the screen. "My arm was broken in two places, and would have taken a month or more to heal. I was injured taking down an Alpha while claiming my ship. My frail body was easily broken. I lost sixteen other warriors during that fight. Seven more were seriously wounded, unable to continue fighting as they were. So we chose to make this sacrifice. We are far more formidable, and you know it. You've seen Edwards in battle."
"That's not the point, and you know it." Fizgig had rarely been so furious. She struggled to contain the low growl rising in her chest. "You didn't think to consult me first?"
"Of course not," Khar said, leaning back with a metallic sigh. "I knew that you'd agree, because you value our race's survival more than your honor."
Fizgig was shocked. She sat back against the cushions. Khar had done as he had to spare her honor. Now, when she spoke to Dryker, she could point out Khar as the renegade who'd skirted the edge of Dryker's decree. She felt a fool.
"Thank you, Mighty Khar," she said, giving a respectful nod. "We will speak more of this later. For now, stay on the line. I am about to speak to the Jaguara. As you speak for the Leonis, you will lend weight to my arguments--despite your new appearance, I hope."
Fizgig raised a paw at Calix, and the comm officer nodded. That was a good sign, at least. She didn't have to spell everything out.
The view screen shifted, dropping Khar's feed to a small corner. The rest of the screen was filled with the single most overly ornate temple Fizgig had ever seen. Statues of Tigrana, who was depicted as curiously Jaguar-like, flanked a massive throne cut from heavy stone. On that throne sat a hulking male.
His fur was golden with patches of white, all covered in black spots. He was sleek and dangerous. If the rumors were true, he'd killed over ninety challengers, and actively encouraged others to try. Hopefully, it didn't come to one-on-one combat. If it did, Fizgig didn't like her chances. The kit was half her age, and in his prime. She was injured, and tired.
"Ah, the mongrel shows herself. Hello, little Fizgig. Have you finally tired of life? I can think of no other reason for you to come here," Carnifex boomed. He made a show of licking his chops, exposing an impressive set of fangs. Not a single one was chipped or broken.
"Peace, Mighty Carnifex," she said, hating the words as she spoke them. Her pride labored under the weight of them. "The Primo's great libraries have fallen. Tigrana burns. Our people are in grave danger, and I have come to deliver warning."
"We've heard of the humans' assault on Tigrana," Carnifex said, resting a forearm on his knee. He flexed it slightly. Predictably. "Tigrana has nothing to offer us. If she burns, it is because of the ineptitude of your pride. The Leonis--"
"I am not pride Leonis," Fizgig interrupted. She leaned closer to the screen, tugged by her rage. It took everything to make her words reasonable. "I have founded Pride Fizgig. We are allied with Leonis."
"Madness. No pride has been recognized in over two centuries. Who did you get to sanction you? No, let me guess. The Leonis have recognized your little pride?" Carnifex said, chuckling smugly. "That's cute, Fizgig. Now sit quietly while I speak to whatever mongrel has taken control of the Leonis." He waved dismissively at her.
"If you speak to Mighty Fizgig like that again I will turn your temple to cinders," Khar roared. He slammed a massive metal fist into the side of the console, and a crack spread across the camera. "You wish to speak to the leader of Leonis? Speak respectfully, or learn to regret your insolence. I am Khar of Pride Leonis, and I lead."
Carnifex leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. He was no doubt staring at an image of Khar, trying to reconcile how a twelve-foot cyborg was claiming control of the only pride to ever thwart the Jaguara. "I see you have a fleet, and I know that Fizgig would not be stupid enough to pretend to be in control of the Leonis. Especially not through some robot proxy. So you must really believe you're in charge of the Leonis. I do not know who or what you are, but you are no Tigris. If you speak for the Leonis, then they are no Tigris, either."
"Mighty Carnifex," Fizgig said, as smoothly as she could manage. Diplomacy, however distasteful, was the only route to victory here. "We do not require you to like us, only to hear about the enemy that has wiped out most of the Primo, and is now doing the same to both humans and Tigris. All you need do is listen. If you do not wish to join us in this war, that is your choice. But at least hear us out."
"If war is coming, then we will fight it as we always have," Carnifex said. He gave her a derisive a sneer. "If it comes, you will be weak allies at best. I would rather face it alone. Take your stories and go."
"We have more than just stories," Fizgig roared, slamming her fist down on the arm of the chair. "I will not let your people burn for your obstinance, Carnifex. If you would see the worthiness of our Prides, then set us a challenge and we will meet it."
"Interesting," Carnifex said, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He licked his chops again. "Very well. You may select four other warriors. If one of you can reach me alive, I will hear your words."
"Done," Fizgig said. "We will land outside your city, and approach from the south. Use whatever you wish to stop us."
Chapter 12- Carnifex
Fizgig felt like a kit, surrounded as she was by four Alpha Judicators. She advanced through their ranks, bolstered by the harvester parked behind her. It was the first time she'd grounded the vessel, and its curved blue wings were impressive, like some bird of prey. The Jaguara had never seen the Void Wraith, and Fizgig still remembered her first time, that mixture of awe tinged with fear. Hopefully, the Jaguara felt just a bit of that.
Fizgig trotted forward, annoyed but not really hampered by the ache in her leg. She stopped a hundred paces from her men, and roared up into the jungle city above. "I am coming for you, Carnifex. Send what you will, but know that you will not escape us."
"Then come, little Fizgig," a voice boomed in answer. She couldn't see her opponent, but that was hardly surprising. The Jaguara loved stealth even more than other Tigris. "Your 'warriors' are impressive war machines, but they will all fall. When they are dead, my people will gut you and bring your lifeless body to me. We will feast on your remains, Fizgig, and laugh at your failure."
Fizgig merely smiled. That bravado would be his undoing, for he had no idea what the Alphas were capable of--nor what she was capable of, armed with Void Wraith tech. She thumbed the button on her belt, the familiar itching rippling across her fur as she faded from view. She bounded away, unsurprised when several sharp cracks echoed over the tiered buildings. Sniper fire ricocheted off the stone where she'd been standing, finding no target.
All four Alphas had followed her lead, shimmering from view. Their plasma cannons began firing, each leveling buildings where the snipers were likely sheltering. That forced the Jaguara's hand, and Fizgig was unsurprised when several squat hovertanks rolled into view.
The weapons had fallen out of favor with most other Prides, who no longer saw reason to go planetside, yet they were still lethal in their element, each packing an array of conventional weaponry. Fortunately, their targeting sensors were completely unprepared for Void Wraith. The tanks fired wildly, their shots doing more damage to the Jaguara's own structures than to their invisible opponents.
Then the Alphas a
ttacked, with Khar taking the lead. His shimmering form flitted up the sloped road with incredible speed, then he leapt into the air over the hovertank, igniting an eight-foot plasma sword at the apex of the jump.
He brought it down with a flourish, returning to visibility as he cut the hover tank in half. The engine exploded in a pillar of flame, but two of the crew were able to escape. Khar cut them in half, then vanished again. The other tanks met a similar fate, Khar's chosen warriors making quick work of the opposition.
Fizgig smiled, pleased by the ferocity. "You know what to do," she said into her comm. Then she trotted deeper into the city, darting from shadow to shadow. She prowled, carefully watching for anything that might impede her progress. Thus far there was nothing. She was aware of snipers moving from cover to cover, and could hear more tanks approaching in the distance. None were close enough to see the telltale shimmer of her cloaking device.
Khar's voice boomed, impossibly loud even from several streets away. "Is this the best your pride can offer, Carnifex? Send us something worthy of our attention."
Fizgig grinned, quickening her pace. She moved up an alleyway, then scaled a building, her claws gaining purchase on the rough stone. She kept climbing until she reached the top and finally had a good view of the city. Carnifex's throne sat atop a hill, the temple slightly higher than the building she'd climbed. There he sat, calmly, as any good leader would. His composure hadn't slipped, but she'd not really expected it to. He was too canny for that.
Behind her, Fizgig heard more explosions, and she glanced down to see dozens of hovertanks approaching. Several sniper teams moved across rooftops, all seeking to pin down Khar or his companions. But the Alphas were simply too fast, even leaping over small buildings where needed. They used the city itself as cover, supplementing the strategy with stealth. The distraction seemed total, and if Carnifex had any idea she was no longer with Khar the disposition of his forces didn't show it.
