by Matt Verish
“The outskirts of Sagittarius A,” Lin’s Rook supplied as it finally slowed its spinning.
Cole shivered Sagittarius A* was located uncomfortably close to a supermassive black hole. A black hole with close ties to his checkered past. “Any particular reason why?”
“There’s no time for me to explain, Cole. You need to trust me.”
“What you need to do, Musgrave, is move this giant, stationary target of ours before they realize we’re not on Astercor and lock onto us.”
“Sage advice, Chrys,” Cole said, already implementing evasive maneuvers. “Guess I don’t have a choice, Doc. Trust now, explanation—hopefully—later. You better strap yourself in and secure whatever science experiment you’re working on back there. Things are about to get interesting.”
The Icarus rocketed toward the Sagittarius A* jump point with the universal hand of justice closing around them. Astercor was soon a distant speck behind the ship, though the encounter with Jude was still fresh in Cole’s mind. Estranged though his brother had been for most of his life, family was family no matter how divided it became. Cole was now the only living relative of both the Revan and Musgrave bloodline. Soon to be extinct, he thought, failing to stave his growing pessimism.
His eye twitched when the scanners detected a Military drone scouting the immediate area. He hoped the Icarus’s cloaking was enough to outwit the unwanted pest. He dimmed the lights in the bridge and closed his eyes, hoping that futile act would somehow confuse billions of scrutinizing eyes throughout the System. Mercifully, neither Emmerich nor Rig commented on his tactic.
“We’re coming up on the jump point,” Emmerich said, her voice strangely quiet.
We just might make it to the magical safe place after all, Cole thought, not feeling so confident about their destination. For him, only pain and tragedy resided at the center of the Milky Way. He hoped Lin knew of a way to help erase those memories.
The dark matter processor engaged moments later, and they slipped into the synthetic wormhole without incident. They spilled out near the galaxy’s epicenter and were surrounded by the blinding lights and colors of the Milky Way’s creation. It was a truly dazzling and beautiful site, marred by the uninviting pit of darkness that spawned it all.
The supermassive black hole lay at the center of Sagittarius A*, devouring all matter with an insatiable appetite. Cole stared in horror at the abyss, suddenly transported back fifteen years to when he committed the greatest atrocity of his life.
“You alright, Nugget?” Rig asked. “You see a ghost or something?”
“Five thousand one hundred twenty-two ghosts, to be exact,” Emmerich said, her quiet voice now filled with reverence. She cast Cole a side-long glance, and stared at her hands before pressing her eyes tightly shut.
She’s still affected by that day despite having no involvement, Cole thought, bewildered by her deep attachment to a career from which she willingly chose to walk.
“Oh, yeah... ‘The Revenge Horizon,’” Rig recalled. “Almost forgot about that little bit of distorted history.” He slapped Cole on his shoulder. “Cheer up. Not everyone thought you murdered all those soldiers.”
Cole swallowed. “I did.”
Emmerich’s eyes opened wide, and she gaped at him. Any thoughts she may have spoken were silenced by the blaring of warning klaxons. All attention on the bridge shifted to the viewport screen, where perimeter detection indicated a host of vessels were on the verge of entering the vicinity via the wormhole. They knew who it was but not their intentions.
A fleet Military ships of all sizes poured out and surrounded the Icarus. The entire System was about to watch a live broadcast of the hunt’s conclusion.
“You gotta plan, Nugget?”
Cole sucked in a deep breath of oxygenated air. “Yeah. It’s called ‘not get killed.’”
The mechanic shrugged. “Works for me.”
Emmerich shook her head and pointed sharply at the viewport screen. “Try explaining that to them.”
Cole glimpsed the flickering light as Starforce attempted to hail them. He answered the call and presented his best smile. It died on his face when he beheld the imposing, silver-haired man on the other end. Holy shit... Lin, you better be right about this place.
“Colonel Musgrave.”
Cole blinked. “Admiral Preston! I, um, appreciate that you still acknowledge my title, but that would be former colonel, sir.”
Arturo Preston, legendary admiral of the infamous Asterius and the only man in Military to ever garner Cole’s respect, offered the slightest hint of a smile beneath his thick, gray cookie-duster. “I want to say that I find your recent behavior surprising—appalling, even—but I know you. I understand you better than anyone who has ever had the displeasure of making your acquaintance. Your own mother didn’t know you the way I do.”
“Hey, you know me,” Cole said, the admiral’s gravelly voice wrecking his nerves and inspiring unnecessary jokes. “I’m just your typical one-time hero-turned-traitor on the run from the entire human race. How’ve you been?”
“Determined.” He straightened his immaculate, burgundy vest. “I was put at the forefront of this mission because of my relationship with you, and I felt it my duty to discover the truth behind your recent...escapades.”
“ ‘Escapades,’ ” Cole repeated. “I like that. It makes all my atrocities seem like an exotic weekend getaway. How about we pretend that’s why I flew us all the way out here to the edge of oblivion. Sightseeing.”
“Please disregard him, Admiral,” Emmerich interjected. “He doesn’t—”
No words were spoken to silence her; only a brief glance of abject disdain caused Emmerich to wilt in dejection. Cole knew that look well.
“As I said before; I know you,” Arturo continued as though she had not spoken. “Just as I know you have legitimate motives propelling your actions, troubling though they are. I wish to discover these motives.”
“You do, do you?” Cole said, sitting back in his flight chair and crossing his legs. “You know what I want? I want to know how me spilling my guts will help our situation. Will it stop you from vaporizing my ship?”
“It won’t.”
Cole snapped his fingers and pointed at Arturo. “A-ha! So I can just make up any ol’ shit that sounds remotely interesting and/or plausible—something to satisfy your morbid curiosity before you look me in the eyes and order my execution.”
Arturo’s head tilted ever so slightly, though his expression was still unreadable. “Had I wished it, you would already be dead. And what you confuse as morbid curiosity is actually concern for a former colleague.”
Cole suddenly saw red. He sat forward, clenching the chair’s armrests. “Don’t try and ingratiate yourself with me, Arturo. Not when we’re all staring death in the face. I’m not your friend, and I never was. Case and point, the Daedalus. Where the fuck were you when my mother brought Military’s reputation to brink of ruin? When she came out to this very location to unleash her wrath upon mankind? Oh, I remember. You were too busy ignoring the obvious signs of her insanity. And after that, you were too busy court-martialing me over an event you turned a blind eye to. Where was your so-called concern then?”
The lines on Arturo’s face tightened. “I was saving you from certain death.”
Cole’s face screwed up. “Come again?”
“I don’t deny my role in your detainment,” Arturo admitted. “Though what you fail to realize is my involvement after your incarceration.”
“Pointing out a complete lack of evidence wouldn’t have been very helpful,” Cole said, seeing through his lie. “Thanks for trying, though. I appreciate such a grand gesture, but it was kinda difficult for prosecutors to blame me for something that literally vanished, like an entire Military cruiser, namely one Daedalus.”
“Security video evidence I secretly ordered sequestered.”
Cole closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh. “You know, I thought you knew me better than to
try and pass off this crackpot fairy tale of yours as fact. Especially since everything we’re discussing is being broadcast Systemwide. You might just be preparing yourself to be target practice like us.”
“And I thought you knew me better, Colonel,” Arturo replied. “Your transmission signal was disconnected the moment we followed you here to Sagittarius. It was intercepted by UniSys and severed by my command.”
Cole slipped into his Ocunet for confirmation and saw that Arturo was speaking the truth. Whaddya know... So much for trying to air his dirty laundry. I guess Cain never anticipated the broadcast wouldn’t last indefinitely after he went down.
“So you’re not a fibber,” Cole continued. “Alright, what’s your game? You here to overturn my dishonorable discharge? Maybe bring me back into the fold with Military and reinstate me as XO of the Asterius? Or is it more likely that you’re hoping for a hard-earned thank you before you press the big red death button?”
Cole thought Arturo was going to choose the latter of the two choices, so long was it taking him to answer. He turned his head partway to Rig and sent him a silent communiqué he’d been preparing since the conversation with Arturo had begun. The mechanic nodded a moment later, turned, and bolted from the bridge.
If the admiral noticed Rig’s departure, he did not acknowledge it. “Neither,” he finally answered. “Though it is abundantly clear that I won’t receive a straight answer from you were I to request one. Apparently you have fallen completely from grace and have chosen a life unbefitting a former ranking officer. You leave me no choice....”
“Now hold on there,” Cole said, raising a calming hand. “I think I have a pretty good idea why you personally tracked me all the way center of our galaxy. Based on your comment regarding the sequestration of this ‘security video evidence’ of my past actions—I assume gathered from my Ocunet lenses at the time—you wanted to see for yourself first-hand whether or not I was ever worth saving.” He waited, hoping he had bought some much needed time.
Arturo scowled. “Don’t play me for the fool, son. I’m well aware that you head this inconceivable operation. Your acts are well documented. What I asked for is your motives. Why have you chosen this pitiful pirate’s life after you had finally managed to climb up and out of ostracization?”
“I’m reckless,” Cole answered without hesitation. He thumbed in Emmerich’s direction. “She’d agree with me were she not studying the fabric on her pants.” He leaned forward again and rested both elbows on the ship’s console. “This is what I do now—what I always should’ve been doing. I just didn’t realize it until I turned forty. I’m an outcast who seeks danger, resents authority, marches to the beat of my own drum, and has...well, used to have a notorious family of murderous crime lords and a maniac admiral mother of multi-trillion unicred ship I singlehandedly took out.” He slipped off his leather gloves, revealing the horrible scars on his burned hands. He displayed them and wiggled his fingers for effect. “Ugly, aren’t they? They’re a constant reminder of the lengths to which I went to stop my mother from committing genocide.”
Arturo was shaking his head. “I’m disappointed.”
“Aw, sorry, Dad.”
“I wanted to believe you had risen above the sum of your family’s fell ways,” the admiral said as though Cole hadn’t spoken. “But their curse lives on through you.”
“Now, wait a minute! Just because you can’t understand why circumstance led me down this path, that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly the villain. I’m not particularly proud, but I have accepted my lot in life—even if I wasn’t a willing recipient.” He launched himself back into his chair with a whump. “I’ll bet all of my documented acts don’t tell the whole story.”
“None of that matters anymore.”
Cole didn’t like the distance in Arturo’s voice. He liked even less the multiple targets that had locked onto the Icarus. Uh oh....
“Set our next jump point for the black hole.”
It was Lin gently whispering through her Rook. Cole had forgotten the device was there beside him. “That won’t be easy,” he whispered back out of the corner of his mouth. Then, Is she crazy?
“Goodbye, Cole.” Arturo said just before his face vanished from the viewport screen.
“The black hole it is!” Cole shouted, hoping against all hope the stealth and mimetic cloaking functions would be enough to temporarily evade a Military onslaught. He assumed full manual control, pushing the Icarus for all she was worth. The explosive light show of death erupted all around them, making it almost impossible to see where they were going.
“Feel free to drop the drone anytime, Rig.”
“Kinda hard with a war happening outside,” the mechanic said via comm. “Almost ready.”
“Rig! We are going to die!”
“Just a second, Nugget,” Rig mumbled, then shared a few choice words. “Aaaaannnnnd...she’s away!”
“Fly that bad boy right at the Asterius,” Cole said, struggling to maintain control.
“It’ll never make it,” Rig said. “’Sides, it ain’t gonna do much if it does.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just need a distrac—”
BOOM!
The force of the explosion came much sooner and closer than Cole had hoped it would. The hidden nuke on the drone sent the Icarus reeling. Cole peeled himself off the console and plopped back into his flight chair, head spinning. He could see that Emmerich was still in her chair, properly locked into place. He followed her lead, clumsily snapping the harness into place with one hand while attempting to regain control with the other. Disgusted, he abandoned all safety practices, focusing his efforts on righting the ship. He pretended not to notice the damage warnings flashing all over the viewport screen.
Emmerich said nothing through it all, staring ahead blankly as though nothing dramatic was occurring. Cole appreciated her silence, but it was the sudden lack of Military fire that brought a smile to his face.
“Did we take ‘em out?” Rig asked.
Cole laughed in spite of himself. “No, but I think they believe they took us out. That explosion was so close that they could’ve easily mistaken it for us. How fortuitous! Happy accident! Why didn’t I think of that? I was only hoping to draw their fire and distract them long enough to fly us where no ship has gone before. And as long as we maintain our speed, stealth, and cloaking, we just might make it.”
“Um, did you say black hole?” Rig asked.
“Should be fun, right?”
A single missile appeared on the viewport screen, speeding toward the Icarus at an incredible rate. Cole paled when he registered what it was. “Starkiller....”
Emmerich suddenly awoke from her coma. The two shared a look only high-ranking officers of Military could understand. No amount of fancy maneuvers would be able to avoid an explosion that could literally wipe out a planet. And with the black hole still well out of reach, the time of the Icarus was finally up.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Cole glanced over his shoulder at Rig, who had returned to the bridge. He blinked a couple times, unsure why the mechanic and everything around him appeared to be glowing. “We’re about to die. That’s what’s goin’ on.”
Rig shook his head, his attention on his hands. “No. What’s...happening...to...us?”
Cole opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. In fact, all sound had ceased as the unexplained light continued to brighten, swallowing everything in sight. He turned—or at least he thought he had turned—back toward the console to see if the missile had detonated. It would explain that this bizarre experience was part of their journey to the afterlife.
But it wasn’t.
According to the nearly white viewport screen, the Starkiller was passing through them, undetonated. It—along with everything else—succumbed to the blinding light, and there was a incredible rushing sensation just before all sense of consciousness was lost.
10
PARTICLES
Sensation returned t
o Cole after an indeterminate amount of time. The blinding light had subsided, revealing a familiar setting. He looked around; Emmerich was still beside him, Rig standing a short distance behind. All appeared as it should be.
Except for the world beyond the Icarus.
Gone was the Asterius and its failed assault. Any evidence of the extinction missile was missing, though the substantial hull and engine damage from their escape remained. Superficially, none of it appeared critical, but it would have to be addressed.
The glow of the black hole’s fiery corona was as evident as ever, but there was something off about it. Cole blinked several times and shook his head, ignoring the oddity. He turned to address the crew.
“That just happened, right?” Rig asked, his voice unusually timid.
Cole faced Emmerich, who silently returned his stare. It was on her face: she had experienced the whiteout too. “Yeah.”
“Are we dead?”
Cole rolled his eyes and stood. “If we were dead, and we went to either heaven or hell—most likely hell—I would’ve expected to see fire, brimstone, and other such nonsense.”
Rig nodded. “Huh.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Cole said, patting the stocky mechanic’s arm as he passed him, Lin’s Rook in-tow. “Maybe you should take my seat.”
“Where are you going?”
“To check on Doc. You guys hang out here, and make sure we don’t have any more surprise visits from former employers.”
He left the bridge with those comments, and headed down the hall to the medical bay, the Rook hovering silently beside him. So many questions filled his mind, and he knew only she would be able to answer them. He hoped that fluttering feeling in his stomach was nothing more than a false alarm.
She was right where he expected her to be, nose-down in whatever complex project she’d been working on, in the repurposed storage room directly across from the medical bay. Her Rook spoke before he entered, scaring him into missing a step.
“This is your first uninvited visit to my lab.”
