by Mars Dorian
“Since your race has observed us for quite some time, you know we have a sizable fleet. If we combine our efforts, we might have a chance to defeat the Verge.”
Chikara didn’t protest, which meant he still had some leeway. “Your holographic cover is blown and the Verge knows where you are. Let us retreat to our ship and call for backup. The Solar Alliance can be a powerful ally.”
Chikara seemed exhausted—controlling the defense armada must have drained her energy resources.
“Go,” she snapped. “The humans are to return to their ship.”
Yes, yes, yes. Fireworks of relief went off in Tavio’s body. The stubborn creature finally relented to his suggestions.
Dr. Eriksun winked at Tavio. He had remembered her request. “We’d like Hōshi to join us. She can act as a diplomatic bridge between our race and yours. Her knowledge about Verge history will be a great help for our preparation.”
Tavio could swear Chikara was slumping her shoulders, but maybe he was projecting human emotions onto her mantis-thin body.
The defense entity said, “The humans can not defeat the Verge. The Yuugen try, try, and fail. Keeping the Verge at bay and escaping is the only option.”
Tavio bit back his answer. Just because one race, no matter how advanced, failed to succeed didn’t mean losing was the only option. By definition, different tactics brought different results. And maybe this ongoing galactic feud required the unconventional thinking of a different race like the humans. But first, the Alliance needed to know the truth about everything.
Chikara retreated to her terminal. “The one the humans call Hōshi will experience a temporary lift of her ban. She is free to join them back to their ship.”
“How long do you think the Verge will take for the second wave of attack?”
“The assault depletes their resources. The Verge needs to harvest and rebuild.”
It was challenging talking deadlines with a race that didn’t seem to have a human concept of time. Maybe Hōshi could help out—after all, she seemed to be hooked to the central data network that Chikara belonged to.
The defense entity said, “Go now. Chikara needs to recharge.”
The terminal setup retracted then the defense entity crossed her legs in a lotus position and hovered in the air. Tavio realized the Yuugen’s body was mostly artificial with magnetic properties, while the floor must have produced an electrical field to allow for levitation. Still, it was surreal the way Chikara hovered over the floor like a cybernetic alien monk.
Every time you think you figured out the race, a new question mark pops up. I must stop sticking to easy labels and keep a fluid mind. The Yuugen defy expectations.
Tavio nodded with a bow then guided Bellrog and the doctor out of the dome control center so the trio could prepare for departure.
62
Tavio and his duo traveled back to the hangar to prepare for lift-off. He wondered if Chikara had indeed released Hōshi, or whether her promise was a ploy to get rid of him. While pondering the possibility, Tavio remembered his question from before.
“Sergeant, back in the dome I saw you stiffening up.”
Bellrog smiled. “Remember when Chikara said the Verge avoided killing us because it didn’t know our race?”
Tavio nodded. Bellrog licked his teeth. “Makes no sense, sir. A primitive apex predator doesn’t hesitate to attack, especially if the opposition is as weak as us. The swarm could have easily overwhelmed us.”
That was true. Despite the impressive beam laser rifle, the duo stood no change against the onslaught of crawlers. “So why do you think the Verge left us standing?”
The big guy shrugged his shoulder plates. “I’m not the xenologist ‘round here.”
The men’s eyes fell to Dr. Eriksun. “I wish I could help you out, gentlemen, but I have no data on the Verge despite the footage from the dome panels. We can ask Hōshi though. She must know.”
Speaking of the Yuugen—the human trio found her standing in the oval-shaped hangar hall where their shuttle was parked.
“How did you—?”
“The Yuugen are interconnected. Once Chikara knows, everyone does. Their mind is nothing but an eternal ocean of collective drops.”
“Like a hive mind,” Bellrog said.
Hōshi cocked her head backwards. “Each Yuugen is an individual expression of the greater whole. Hōshi feels Chikara, and Chikara feels Hōshi.”
She did sound different than the defense entity. While Chikara shot out staccato statements, Hōshi muttered longer, lyrical sentences. But how could one keep its individuality if part of a greater mind? Tavio would dig up the answer once they cleared the current situation. “Did she talk about our plan to return to our system?”
“Yes, she listens. Hōshi is obliged to join the human race.”
Tavio couldn’t help but smile. It was so refreshing talking to a Yuugen that actually appreciated the human race. Meeting Hōshi marked the best part of the mission.
Bellrog shifted his boots. “Not to interrupt the party, but the Verge carrier’s still in space, probably preparing for another attack while we’re shaking our balls.”
Hōshi chimed in. “The Verge hungers for resources and will need to rebuild their army of hull eaters.”
“Still, the Sergeant’s right,” Tavio said. “We need to contact the Alliance then head back to sol system, and that will take weeks. Let’s not take any chances.”
He opened the ramp of the shuttle and stepped inside the cockpit. He then activated the comm channel and pinged Aidos back in space.
“Sir?” the pleasant butler voice said.
“We’re returning to the Moonshot.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you are alive and well.”
Tavio ordered his team to strap in and prepare for take-off. Hōshi occupied an empty seat and attached herself to the adaptable back. “The Moonshot is parked inside an asteroid the Yuugen use as a starport. Hōshi will give the crew the coordinates.”
For once, everything seemed to work. Tavio keyed in the Hōshi’s codes and initiated the launch sequence. The hangar’s dome-shaped ceiling opened up and revealed the golden sky of E405. Tavio floated his gloved fingers above the steering orb and switched to a pilot-assisted flying mode. He still wanted to be able to fly the shuttle manually in case an emergency occurred.
During the take-off, he noticed Dr. Eriksun fidgeting in the second row, gearing her face shield toward the side windows of the cockpit. Her gaze seemed to get lost in the distance. “Any problems, Doctor?”
“I wish I had more time to study the Yuugen’s incredible culture. Everything from their technology to their way of thinking would fill an encyclopedia. I feel like I’ve merely scratched the surface.”
Despite the stress and disasters, Eriksun’s longing for knowledge blazed on. Tavio empathized with her, but he knew the priorities. “Once we’ve dealt with the Verge, you’ll have all the time in the galaxy to plunge deeply into the Yuugen-verse.”
He flicked a glance at the Yuugen sitting next to the doctor. “And I’m sure Hōshi is more than happy to help you out.”
“Ask her everything,” the Yuugen said and elicited a giggle from the group. “Despite everything the Collective learns about the Solar Alliance race, there are many answers left. She is certain the Yuugen and the humans will converge in understanding and knowledge.”
Tavio focused on the route. He broke the atmosphere with a rumble and piloted through to the dark sky. With no more resistance, the thrusters propelled the shuttle toward the target destination rapidly. In the middle of the orbital darkness, an S-Class asteroid emerged on Tavio’s long-range scanners.
“That is the starport,” Hōshi said.
“Stealthy,” Bellrog said.
“Another measure to hide from the Verge,” the Yuugen said. “Hōshi will explain the captain on how to dock.”
Tavio couldn’t wait to enter his ship again.
63
The shuttle matched
the asteroid’s speed at first. Tavio steered the vessel toward a valve-like opening that led into the inside of the massive space rock. The tunnel’s diameter quintupled the vessel’s size. The captain admired the brilliant architecture that had formed an S-Class asteroid into an advanced orbital port. The Yuugen mastered the art of astro-architecture. It was unimaginable what Sol Alliance companies could learn from the race—the knowledge would usher the humans to the next level of prosperity, maybe turn them into a type II civilization.
“The docking procedure is automatic,” Hōshi said and broke the captain’s daydreaming. She pointed toward the far end of the asteroid tunnel where a framed structure towered. One of the ships docked to a segment was the SAS Moonshot. Tavio couldn’t believe his eyes.
The captain immediately picked up the comm. “Srini?”
Seconds sizzled, followed by an affirmative beep.
“Sir, welcome back.”
“Open the bay. We’re coming aboard.”
The four traversed the Moonshot’s hatch and finished the procedure. The captain spotted a familiar person in the corridor. A caramel-skinned man stood up with arms stretched and widened eyes.
“Oh. My. God,” Srini said in bewilderment.
“At ease, Chief. It’s us.”
Instead of saluting the captain, he ran toward him and hugged tight. “The real crew.”
“Unfortunately. Which means you’re back to second-in-command.”
“Thank God,” Srini said. “I thought I was stuck in a twisted parallel dimension where the rules of physics didn’t apply.”
He noticed Bellrog and Dr. Eriksun standing next to the captain’s side. “I missed you, too.”
He hugged them and exchanged a strong handshake. Tavio loved seeing the little crew reunion, and he wished he could allocate more time to it. Bonding mattered, especially this far away from human civilization. But as long as the Verge carrier lurked in space, they had no time to waste. “Unfortunately, we have to postpone the welcome party. There’s a hostile life form in the exoplanet’s high orbit and it’s giving the ground population hell.”
“I see, sir. Well, the ship is rea—”
Srini halted in the middle of the sentence as his glance noticed the new crew member standing next to the doctor.
“Sir, there’s a—”
It took Tavio a second to check the situation. Srini stared at Hōshi with the expression of someone experiencing a glitch in his HUD depiction. The captain had become so used to Hōshi she practically felt like the unofficial sixth member.
“Oh, that’s Hōshi,” he said matter-of-factly. “She’s a member of the Yuugen Collective and will aid our mission.”
Srini held his breath and gaze, or maybe it froze in mid-motion. The chief engineer seemed to experience an apparition.
“Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.” Tavio paused. “As far as I know.”
Srini ogled the Yuugen with bewildered eyes. He dared to near her and reach out his hand. Hōshi danced around him and tilted her slender body. Two puppies making contact for the first time.
“She’s a playful one, isn’t she?” Srini said.
Tavio eyed the timer on his HUD. Pressure, pressure.
“Srini—“
“The Verge,” Srini said, “I know, sir.”
Tavio nodded and marched through the ship. He and his crew climbed the ladders to the upper deck and reached the bridge. Back to the place where Captain Alterra belonged.
My Moonshot missus, it’s been way too long.
The familiarity washed over him with warmth. It was like remembering a sweet, cozy moment from childhood. Who knew Tavio would feel so grateful seeing an inorganic object again?
Aidos materialized near one of the consoles and shone in his hyper resolution. Every pixel screamed perfection and confidence which only a strong AI could carry. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you again, Captain Alterra.”
“Missed me?”
“I was busy running diagnostics and recounting ionized plasma molecules of the fusion drive.”
“I thought so.”
The artificial intelligence had lost nothing of its charm. Still sharp, still with pitch-perfect timing.
Tavio steered toward his captain’s chair which seemed to call him like a siren on a beach rock. The second he sank into the plasto-mass and felt his spine adapting to the back of the seat, a rush of dopamine surfed through his limbs. A cozy feeling triggered his brain and threw Tavio back into nostalgia.
Tavio wanted to cherish every millisecond but knew the situation didn’t allow it. He ordered his crew to adapt to their seats and stay put. The Aidos avatar maneuvered around the consoles and halted next to Tavio’s armrest like an e-butler ready to serve.
“What is your plan, Captain?”
64
“We return back to the sol system and regroup. With Hōshi’s help, we’ll convince Fleet Command to send a division to take out the Verge carrier.”
He paused as if to make sense of his own thoughts. “It will be a good opportunity to prove our peace efforts.”
He flicked a glance at Hōshi who adapted to one of the officer chairs. If she felt uncomfortable inside the human architecture, she did a good job of hiding it.
Tavio said, “Let’s show the rest of the Yuugen Collective that calling humanity for help was the right idea.”
Hōshi tilted her head sideways and sounded her sing-sang voice. “She thanks the captain for everything.”
“Thank me when we make it out of here alive.”
Despite all the pleasant feelings, they still had to leave the exoplanet’s orbit and make it back to the sol system.
“Chief Naveesh, get us out of here and plot a course to the nearest Alliance spaceport. Send a time stamp as soon as we go full Dizengoff Drive.”
“Yes, sir,” the chief engineer said as he initiated the launch sequence of the Moonshot.
While overviewing the process, Tavio drafted a report with all the relevant experiences and footage from the ground operation. The Alliance needed to know everything so it could prepare for the upcoming challenges.
Tavio hoped the Verge spawn carrier wouldn’t launch another attack during the crew’s absence. With Hōshi’s help, the Moonshot could leave the Yuugen starport dock and hover through the carved-out tunnel of the asteroid. The chemical thrust pushed the ship into open space again. The darkness of the void knocked on the ship’s optical sensors and flashed the view screen. Tavio welcomed the black with a smile. He was back in the ship, back in space, where every fiber of his being belonged. Nothing could beat the ride through the endless astral ocean. It was an experience as epic as life itself.
The captain watched the miniature model of the Moonshot on his side screen as it switched from the chemical sub-thrusters to the fusion drive under Chief Naveesh’s guidance. “Infusing plasma now.”
The ring of the fusion engine fired up with ultra-heated plasma as the ship drifted away from the exoplanet’s orbit. The long-range scanners picked up the location of the Verge carrier as it still circumnavigated E405, approximately 25000 kilometers from their trajectory.
Tavio crossed his fingers and hoped Hōshi’s hunch was right; if the Verge lifeform had ignored the humans on the planet, it could repeat the pattern in space. A gamble with luck, but the crew had run out of choices.
“Fusion drive ready in four and a half minutes, sir,” Naveesh said.
Tavio’s body shivered. He could feel the socket of the back of his neck opening for the stim injection.
He glanced at Hōshi to his right and found her swiveling around her seat. No matter how much she moved, she didn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Her mantis body was fairly humanoid, and the seat could adapt to almost any biped form, which meant the real discomfort had to be a mental one. “Don’t worry, Hōshi. If Chikara’s estimations are right, we’ll be back before the Verge can launch another attack.”
She kept silent, but her slight tilt showed Tavio he had read her e
motions correctly. “She trusts the human.”
It was the biggest compliment Tavio had heard from a Yuugen so far, which did give him a sense of pride. Hōshi had acted against the will of her collective and initiated contact with the humans. Tavio promised to turn her risk into a reward.
“Sir, I’m receiving a signal,” Aidos said. “We’re being hailed.”
“Don’t tell me—”
“I’m afraid so.”
The Verge carrier was hailing them. Which seemed surreal, since its ground forces didn’t resemble a life form capable of interstellar communications. But as Chikara had said, the crawler armada was a war tool and not an accurate representation of the race itself.
“Can you put it through the comms?”
“I’m already working on it, sir.”
Seconds squeezed. “Audio contact in three… two… one.”
The comm crackled. But instead of the weird but understandable English translation of the Yuugen, only strange noises blared through the system.
“Is there a problem, Aidos?”
“No, the frequency seems to work.”
Bellrog, Eriksun, and Naveesh perked their ears and became silent with eager anticipation. Tavio even closed his eyes to focus on the barrage of sounds, but they remained unintelligible. Although it wasn’t just noise either—whatever echoed through the speakers followed a distinct pattern with different pitches. Alien pitches.
Hōshi said, “The Verge is trying to communicate with the humans, but it does not know how.”
Tavio experienced an eureka moment. “Can you communicate with it?”
The crew craned their heads at her direction.
Hōshi hesitated. “Yuugen are the arch enemy of the Verge. If they find out Hōshi is on board, the Verge might destroy the Moonshot.”
So much for the chance to connect, Tavio thought, although the gesture of the Verge confused him. Would a species hell-bent on destruction waste time making contact?
First the Verge ignored him and the soldier back in the corridor, now it tried to hail their ship. Something was amiss, and Tavio needed more time figuring out what.
