“Enjoying your breakfast?” asked the man over the hidden speaker.
Victor looked up. His senses were sharper this time, and he could pinpoint a spot on the ceiling where the voice must be coming from, though no speaker was visible. He suspected the voice could have been projected from any part of the room. The man probably elected it to come from above for effect.
“That dispenser is first-rate. Makes me wish I had one on the Osprey.” Mentioning his old ship hurt, but it was a dull pain.
“Yes, it’s been, oh, forever since it was last used. I’m glad to see it’s in good working order.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “My memory is a little hazy from the drugs and all, but I distinctly remember you calling this the Stone during our first conversation. What is this place?”
“Ah, yes. This is my home base of sorts.”
“I gathered that much. But it doesn’t really tell me what or where this place is. Is this a space station or a planetary base? I could be on a starship for all I know,” Victor said.
“It’s probably best I show you.” The room’s door opened.
Victor’s curiosity overrode his suspicion, and he walked to the door. On the other side, he saw a tubular corridor of polished rock with a flat bottom. Am I underground?
A solid line appeared on the floor, leading to Victor’s left. “Follow this line please. This place is a bit of a labyrinth.”
Victor stepped into the corridor. “What if I don’t want to follow the line?”
“You’re welcome to explore the Stone if you like, but you won’t find anything interesting. Unless you follow the line, that is.”
Feeling contrarian, Victor turned right, away from the direction the line indicated. The corridor was long, with doors on either side. Closed doors with no visible ways to open them. He approached a few to see if they had motion sensors, but they remained shut.
Victor looked down and noticed the line of white light had attached itself to his feet like a glowing string. A rather passive-aggressive reminder of the direction the hidden man wanted Victor to go.
He continued to explore for several minutes, running his hands against the walls of the corridor to feel the smooth rock. After nothing but similar corridors, boredom took hold.
He sighed and turned around to follow the line. After several more minutes, he reached what looked like a circular blast door, closed tight.
He took a step toward the door but hopped back when it opened. The hinges didn’t so much as squeak when the door swung out. Inside was a brightly lit room, a command center by Victor’s guess.
He stepped inside. What he saw took away his breath. Like walking into a large domed stadium made of polished rock. The largest holomap of the Milky Way galaxy that Victor had ever seen hovered in the air above him, filling the volume of the dome.
He noticed a long slash of red stars in one part of the galaxy. For a moment, he thought they represented red dwarves, but that didn’t make any sense. Red dwarves were the most common type of a main sequence star in the universe, evenly distributed across the galaxy, not concentrated in one area. So it must be an empire then; that made some sense. On a whim, he studied the whole galaxy and found highlighted, within the red, a particular star system.
Sol, the birthplace of humanity. The long-lost homeworld of all intelligent life. Everyone knew where that solar system was; its place was marked on every starmap Victor had ever seen. Directly on the opposite side of the galaxy from the Savannah system. Far from his reach.
Savannah had been cut off from the solar system ever since the gates ceased to work. If anyone had reached the solar system using conventional jump drives, Victor had never heard of it.
“Enjoying the view, I see,” someone said, their voice coming from behind Victor.
He wheeled around and saw an old dark-skinned man, with a fringe of white curly hair. Short and slight, dressed in a loose, almost robelike coat that reached down to his knees. Victor’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
“You can call me the old man,” the stranger said.
“Not much of a name,” Victor said.
“It’s the only one I need.” The old man glanced up at the projections. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Victor grimaced with annoyance at the change in subject but turned his attention to the galaxy rotating overhead. “It’s quite a decoration.”
“Oh, that’s no decoration, despite its beauty.” The old man pointed a shriveled finger at the display. “That is the most detailed map of the galaxy you’re ever likely to find. What you’re seeing is every object ever catalogued by the First Civilization’s cartographers.”
“Hardly unique. Plenty of First Civilization maps are around,” Victor said. The Republic Naval Academy had one.
“Ah, true. But all those are one thousand years out of date. The one floating here is current.”
Victor gave the old man an incredulous look. “Current?”
The old man smiled. “Yes, current. Well, as current as my deep scouts can keep it. It takes years for some of them to return. But none of the information projected is more than a couple decades old.”
“Deep scouts? Those are some kind of probes, I assume,” Victor said.
“Yes, though much more sophisticated than the probes you’re familiar with.”
Victor glanced at the map and then back to the old man. “They’d have to be, if what you’re saying about that map is true. Which begs the question, how did you come into possession of such advanced tech?”
The old man shrugged. “I knew where to look.”
Victor’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I assume you’ve heard stories of First Civilization supply caches hidden around the galaxy?”
“Yes,” Victor said. He had always considered them fairy tales.
The old man pointed a finger straight up and circled it around. “This place, the Stone, is one of the larger examples of those caches.”
“And that’s where you found the deep scouts?”
“No, actually somewhere else. A factory really. I can’t update the map if I have access to only a finite number of deep scouts. This place is a combination command center and drydock. The only one of its kind.”
“A drydock for what?” Victor asked.
“Follow me and find out.” He walked by, close to Victor.
On a whim, Victor reached to grab the old man, but Victor’s hand passed through the old man as if he weren’t here. “Hrmmph. I should’ve figured you wouldn’t be here in person.”
The old man’s smile became lopsided. “You can figure what you wish. Now please follow me. You will be impressed. Trust me.”
Victor, suspicious and curious at the same time, followed the old man’s holo.
A door on the other side of the large room opened for the old man as he approached. Victor found it odd that the doors would open for a hologram. He followed the old man into a room dominated by a large window, looking out into a vast rocky interior.
“Are we inside an asteroid?” Victor asked. Then he saw what was within this space, and his breath caught in his throat.
The most beautiful starship he’d ever seen.
The old man, smiling, leaned toward Victor. “Try not to drool.”
Guessing the ship’s exact size was hard, but she was much larger than the Osprey. Her hull was long and flat like a blade. But, for all her size, she looked fast. Really fast. “Is that a—”
“First Civilization ship? Why, yes. The IUM Excalibur.”
Victor turned to the old man in disbelief. “IUM? As in, Interstellar Union Military? You have an actual First Civilization warship?”
The old man nodded.
“What kind?”
“The Excalibur is a battlecruiser.”
Victor pointed at the Excalibur with an outstretched arm. “That thing is worth more than…well…anything! And you have it just sitting here?”
“Yes, waiting for the right pers
on to take command.”
“Who?” Victor asked.
The old man gave him a disappointed look. “Now don’t be dense, Victor. You are that person. Or at least I hope you are.”
“Me? Why? Why would you give a failure like me a ship like that?”
“Well, for one, you’re not a failure. You’re one of the finest warriors of your generation.” The old man’s expression became sad. “You just happened to find yourself the victim of a great crime.”
Victor looked back at the Excalibur and felt something he had not felt since the day he was first offered command of the Osprey. It felt like falling in love.
He looked back at the old man. “What do you want from me?”
“To save the galaxy.”
“The galaxy seems to be spinning around just fine,” Victor said.
The old man sighed. “Follow me back to the map room, and I’ll show you it’s not spinning well at all.” He turned to leave.
Victor followed, stealing a final glance at the Excalibur, before following the old man through the door, but he stopped just short of the map. “So what are you going to show me?”
“Look up and watch.”
When Victor focused on the map, dozens of yellow icons appeared. “What are those?”
“Murdered worlds.”
Victor’s eyes went wide. There must have been a few hundred icons, all across the galaxy. And it was very up-to-date. A yellow icon hovered over Savannah's location. “I don’t believe it.”
“Belief is irrelevant. This is happening, and it must be stopped.”
The map winked out, replaced by a detailed projection of a burned-out planet with a huge crater in its face. Ejecta had formed a crude ring around the world. “Tarlam, destroyed by an asteroid drop,” the old man explained.
The map changed to another world, this one unscarred but with biohazard icons over it. “Tolstoy, virus bombs.”
Two planets appeared next, both covered in countless craters. “Florus and Faunus, interplanetary nuclear bombardment. They killed each other.”
The final world was covered in a shroud of smoke and dust that completely covered the surface. “Savannah, orbital bombardment.”
Victor looked away. “That’s enough.”
The lighting changed as the galaxy map returned. The old man looked sad. “Do you understand?”
Victor stared at the map and all the icons covering it. He nodded. “Worlds are being destroyed.” He looked to the old man. “How long has this been going on?”
“Practically from the moment the gates to Sol collapsed. Worlds get into a war, and often end up fighting for so long and so savagely that destroying their enemy seems like the only solution. That’s what happened to your world, I suspect.”
“Actually,” Victor said, “I think my world was destroyed for more personal reasons. The Lysandran emperor wanted revenge for the deaths of his sons.”
“Yes, well, do you think his subordinates would’ve followed the order to destroy your world if they didn’t also believe Savannah deserved to be destroyed?”
Victor grunted. “I figure they followed his orders because he was their emperor. The Lysandrans exist only to serve the Lacano family.”
“You think so?” asked the old man. “It’s been my observation that even emperors don’t rule without at least the passive support of their subjects.”
“Propaganda, terror, and brainwashing help with that,” Victor said. “However you want to cut it, only one man is responsible for the destruction of my world. Magnus Lacano.”
“Perhaps,” the old man said. “But I’m not interested in assigning guilt. What I want is to stop the bloodshed.”
Victor glared at the old man. “And how do you expect to do that without holding those responsible who would do such things?”
“The problem isn’t evil men ordering the destruction of worlds, not on the large scale. It’s disunity.”
“Disunity? You mean, you think all this is a result of the fall of the First Civilization?” asked Victor.
“Yes. During the time of the First Civilization, not a single world was destroyed. Quite the opposite really. They made worlds. Since its fall, worlds have been dying, and the destruction is accelerating. If not stopped, then I fear there won’t be any habitable worlds left, and any chance of rebuilding the First Civilization dies.
Victor shook his head. “This is unbelievable! You want me to rebuild the First Civilization? Me? With one ship?”
“With time, and my guidance, yes.”
Victor glanced at the collection of red stars on the far side of the galaxy. “What is all that red supposed to mean?”
The old man’s face hardened. “That is a problem for later.”
“One that I’ll have to deal with eventually, I’m sure. If I agree to help. Which I haven’t,” Victor said.
The old man arched an eyebrow. “I assumed that would be a given. I am offering you the chance to prevent other worlds from sharing the fate of Savannah.”
Victor scowled at him. “Savannah was the only world I cared about. Why should I save worlds that did nothing to help mine?”
“It’s not their f—”
“My own brother traveled from world to world, begging for help. All of them refused. He didn’t stop trying to find help until King Quintus Marsh of Mohawk, the last world petitioned for help, cut off my brother’s head and sent it home in a box.”
The old man almost looked shocked. “I didn’t know.”
Victor grunted. “You’re not as omniscient as you like to present yourself, are you?”
The old man shook his head. “I never claimed to be omniscient.”
Victor looked at the galaxy map. “If you want to stop more worlds from dying”—he glanced toward the old man—“then why haven’t you taken the Excalibur out yourself?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated? You seem awfully keen on having someone else do your dirty work,” Victor said.
The old man shook his head. “I couldn’t use Excalibur even if I wanted to. She needs the right person. I’m hoping that is you.”
“And what makes you think I’m that person? I can’t see how being a survivor of a destroyed world is a requirement for command,” Victor said.
“It’s not. But I cannot let just anyone command that ship. She’s the only one of her kind left. I can only let someone take her who has the greatest possible chance of success. You’re a born warrior, who has been fighting on starships for over a decade. You also know what it’s like to lose a world. Those, among many other variables, point to you being the right person to command the Excalibur.”
Victor’s gaze shifted as he remembered something. “So that’s what you meant when you called me an ace.”
“Yes. Like that particular card, you have properties that suggest a relatively high probability of success.”
Victor gave the old man an incredulous look. “You make it sound like fate has chosen me.”
“It’s not fate. It’s math.”
“Math, right,” Victor said.
The old man shrugged. “Are you willing to help me?”
“Only on one condition,” Victor said.
“I didn’t realize we were negotiating.”
“Well, I am. I’ll help you with this impossible task if you let me use the Excalibur to seek out and kill Magnus Lacano,” Victor said.
The old man scowled at Victor. “You would use the Excalibur for revenge against the Lysandrans?”
“Not the Lysandrans, just him,” Victor said.
“And how would you go about it?”
“Flying to planet Lysander and nuking the Imperial palace from orbit comes to mind,” Victor said.
The old man shook his head. “The Excalibur is not invulnerable. Even if she penetrated the empire’s defenses, she wouldn’t make it out. You’d be wasting a priceless starship on pointless revenge.”
“It’s all I have left!” Victor sneered at the old man,
waving his arm at the map. “You want me to save the galaxy? You let me kill Magus Lacano!”
The old man’s frown deepened, and his brows furrowed. “No.”
Victor scowled at the old man. “Then you can find someone else. I’m not interested.”
The old man was quiet for several long seconds, his eyes shifting as if he were thinking or calculating. “I was mistaken. You’re far too broken to be of use, it seems.” The old man waved his hand.
Victor opened his mouth to respond, but his voice failed. Then darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, and he blacked out.
Chapter 5
For the second time in a row, Victor woke up not knowing where he was. He found himself lying facedown in a soft substrate that smelled of grass. Pushing himself to his knees in a jerking motion, he realized that the substrate was, in fact, grass.
“What the—?” Victor looked around. Above him, the stars shone bright and clear. He was on a planet and a habitable one too. Cool and clean air filled his lungs with every breath, and reminded him far too much of the night breeze coming off Lake Valor.
He shoved aside the memories of his lost home with ruthless strength. He didn’t need those now.
Instead he focused on the obvious questions. Where was he and how did he get here?
It occurred to him to check his clothing. It was hard to tell colors in the dim light, but Victor wore a shirt, pants, and a sturdy jacket. Searching through the jacket’s pockets, he found a currency card. The counter on the front showed fifty thousand universal credits.
Victor grunted and put away the card. At least he wouldn’t starve, assuming he could find his way to civilization.
He looked around. Turned out that wouldn’t be all that hard. In the distance, gleaming towers reached to the sky. Their triangular architecture was unfamiliar to Victor, but their presence showed he had not been dropped off in the middle of the boonies but on a city’s outskirts. A big one, by the looks of it.
He walked toward the towers, soon finding a road. The occasional ground vehicle passed by him as he moved toward the city lights. For a moment, he considered hitchhiking, but the cool air was pleasant, and he needed time to think.
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