Holts tapped her controls.
“But this,” stated Ensign Holts as the hologram turned into thousands of strings of numbers floating above the table.
“Beautiful!” exclaimed an excited Lieutenant Wallace. “How I miss those days.”
“Yes, Lieutenant, this is one of the old navigation systems. And this is how we believe we can detect them.” She motioned with her hand across her data-pad; the numbers zoomed in so only fifty number strings floated above the table.
Holts looked around the table at the three men locked onto the floating hologram. “As you all know, the old NAV systems were simple. Their only goal was to ensure the vessel didn’t strike an object large enough to damage the hull.” She stood up and moved to Captain Falco’s side of the table.
“Each number represents the surface area of an object using meters squared. The NAV system automatically adjusted the course away from anything larger than a pebble or .000096774.” She pointed at one number, 11,640.750912 that had four smaller numbers off to the left.
“That’s the Anam Cara,” Wallace stated with great pride. “Know that number anywhere!”
“They’re the same.” Falco slowly rose to his feet. “Could it be that simple? They are exactly the same. That’s impossible.” He stuck his finger into the hologram where the four numbers representing the Oortians hung next to the Anam Cara. “You’re telling us that each,” Falco searched for the right word, “variety of Oortian has the exact…” Falco let the word hang, “same surface area?”
Commander Shar’ran and Lieutenant Wallace moved to join him. Hanging next to the 11,640.750912 were four other number strings. Falco looked to Holts.
“Yes, Captain, they are exactly the same. 00.387096,” she slowly read the number out loud. “Even the size of our own missiles fluctuates within a small measurable parameter. These four Oortians have precisely the same surface area even when we extend twenty places beyond the decimal. Their shapes vary slightly, but the surface area is exactly identical!”
“What about the Hull Pounders that hit the rail gun compartment,” Falco swallowed hard, “the ones that killed my crewmembers?”
Ensign Holts looked to her data-pad. “.18580608. The Hull Pounders that hit the Anam Cara and 10th Fleet had an exact surface area of .18580608.”
Commander Shar’ran shifted his gaze from Holts to the numbers of the hologram. “How is this possible? Even with our Nano-tech and the newest robotic production facilities, nothing produced is ‘perfectly’ the same. It is simply impossible for anything to be absolutely identical in any way.”
“Yes, Commander. For humans, at this moment, it is impossible to reach perfection in production,” Holts placed her hands in her lap, “but the Oortians can and in a very specific way, they have.”
Falco leaned down towards the table, grabbing its thick top. “Can you create an upload for the Battle-Net that can scan specifically for these exact numbers?” Falco spoke in hushed tones.
“No,” Ensign Holts leaned toward Falco, “but Lieutenant Bai can.”
“Do it,” Falco growled. “Admiral Chen and 10th Fleet are going to need it,” he turned to face his officers, “and so will we.”
Ensign Holts was up and on the move.
“Holts.” Falco released a predatory grin as the ensign turned around. “Great work. You and Bai just moved the advantage back to our side.”
51
Captain Fei
the Black Field
Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds had passed without a sideways glance. Not even a heavy breath was audibly exhaled. The Kwan Yin’s hull ceased to exist. Workstations attached to bulkheads floated in a sea of churning blackness. Crewman of the Viper class patrol boat sat strapped into chairs that hovered over a dark infinity.
Captain Yue Fei fought to keep his eyes open while his body desperately tried to moderate the avalanche of stimuli coming at him from all sides. His mind needed a reprieve from the vertigo. I must show strength.
Hands flew to mouths in unison. Two young crewmen reached for vomit-bags in time and soundlessly leaned towards the bags sealed over their mouths. Shame embedded on their faces. Fei recognized the look, a need to apologize but having no means to do so.
A moment later he stood and moved across an invisible deck. He walked on a slow swirling current of oily-black cloud. He kept his eyes locked on his crew to ensure his feet would naturally find the unseen deck below them.
Glossy eyes met Captain Fei’s arrival. The two young officers sat in shame, the stench from the contents of their stomachs slowly filtering out of the command center. The Kwan Yin’s systems were running at minimal life support levels and the smell lingered far longer than it should have.
For the first time since engaging the Virtual Surround Vision, the crew of the Kwan Yin had stopped staring at the foreign matter that enshrouded their boat. With hands clutching anything visible at their stations, they turned towards their captain’s motion, watching the god-like movements of a man suspended over a swirling nothingness that shifted between absolute black and charcoal gray, the colors so similar it was hard to tell the difference except for the flow of motion between them.
Fei rested a powerful hand on each of their shoulders and gave them a simple nod. He watched the shame leave their faces. Time, he thought, striding back to the Battle-Net station and Commander Zhu, we only need a few more moments for the mind to adjust to its new environment. The human body is resilient. It was already happening as he noticed subtle differences in the field’s oily composition, shading… it was strangely beautiful and menacing at the same time.
“Sir, now may be our only chance to take a sample. Use the grappling-bot.” Commander Zhu kept his voice low.
Captain Fei nodded toward his commander who sent the order to the maintenance crew in storage bay. Fei remained locked onto the changing, swirling mass outside the Kwan Yin. Soon we may know some of your secrets. Soon we may know the order and scale of your building blocks… or nothing at all. He found his captain’s chair and sat down, still following the swirling shadows moving around and beyond his hull. I can hear it, Fei thought, no, he reconsidered, I can feel it moving around us, studying each weld on the thousands of poly-plates or inspecting the damage from the destroyed COM-Sat. It felt like sand on an open wound.
The image of the bot scooping up that primordial soup scared the hell out of Fei. What would they find? He was far from a scientist and barely a student of the sciences, but he knew the pure simplicity of the universe. Currently, there were 136 elements in the periodic table with 101 found or occurring on Earth. He felt the gnawing sense that humanity’s best attempts at creating a system of classification for the universe in which their microscopic blue planet called home, was about to be shattered.
And such are the ways of a fledgling species, Fei pondered. But can we adapt fast enough in this situation to find a way to save ourselves? A heaviness hung on his face while he pondered the past for an answer to the future. What Fei found was not hopeful. Visibly shaking his head, he focused on the moment, his boat and the lives of his young crew.
A hatch slid open and a tall, lanky crewman cautiously entered the bridge. He stopped in front of Captain Fei, his eyes never leaving his perfectly polished, black boots that were a stark contrast to the grease and grime smeared on his uniform. The crewman leaned in and began whispering to Captain Fei. Finally, Fei nodded and the crewman left the bridge. Fei looked toward a waiting Commander Zhu sitting tensely in front of the glowing battle screen.
Fei held up a single fist, turned it and extend his thumb straight up. Zhu turned and tapped at his data-pad. Minutes later the dimly lit screen filled with streaming data.
The results of the sample were already being analyzed.
52
Tzara Creator of the Prox
Leader of the Creators
Planet Tzara
Tzara’s lean, black form drifted in the open territories, her plated carapace hanging just outside of the Dar
kness. She looked upon the twelve worlds that circled the mighty twin stars. The warmth of their fire kept at bay by the clear field that surrounded them. The Darkness ebbed and flowed at the edges, providing protection from those that lived and killed in the Void far beyond, but always looking like it would rush in and consume the bright open space that it shielded.
Each planet revolved at its own speed, a speed chosen by the Creator that managed it. Each world designed to provide safe harbor for the unique clan that called it home. Like the fiery twin stars, each world had its own field that provided precisely what it required for optimum production. A spike of remorse pulsed through Tzara’s systems. As perfect as these worlds are, many of the clans born to them would never see them again. Instead, they now sit idle in the Darkness or at its border with the Void. Defenders hunkered in the cold. Alone in the dark they sat, Prox, Warruq and that which was hidden for the times when more was needed to protect the territories. A life of waiting… that drove many of them insane, their warrior’s rage almost uncontrollable. But that is exactly what Tzara wanted, what the Creators needed to ensure the defense of the vast frontier along the border between the Darkness and the deadly and infinite Void.
Tzara initiated a quick, energy bloom pulse, propelling her into the mass of the Darkness, but still keeping her optical sensors in the open. She could now swim and pulled back with her fins, effortlessly skimming the interior Veil. The planet of the Warruq passed in front of her. Even with the parameters in place, the massive rock always looked as if it would smash into the smaller, gas world of the Krell. The twelve worlds moved in a frenetic dance. Each turning, whirling in a slightly different orbit that avoided collisions at the last possible cycle. Even the vast, twin stars adjusted every few millions of cycles to avoid consuming one of the planets.
How the Darkness could control such things was even beyond Tzara’s reach, beyond her known history and that of all the Creators, or simply kept from their memory. But she knew the clear fields that surround each world and the twin stars were somehow part of the Darkness. Soon the meeting of the Creators would begin and it was time for her to go back to her own world, a world of vapor and iron. The planet of the Prox, where Tzara created all in her image.
Almost, she thought as she locked her plates and hardened her carapace. Tzara would always be the largest of her kind and always the strongest. Creators had the right, it was meant to be. She fired a quick energy bloom and moved further into the Darkness. Quickly Tzara unlocked her plates, softened her carapace, extended her fins again and pushed toward her planet’s known location. The only world without rotation, without an orbit and the only light source was the planet itself. A tiny creature had survived on her world. Tzara’s optical sensors had never seen the minuscule life form, but it covered the planet’s surface like a glowing dust that could be wiped away for a moment only to return in the next.
Nearing her world, again she strengthened her long, sleek carapace, each plate clicking and locking into the next creating an itch that worked its way from top to bottom. A warmth washed over her upon entering the protective field, the cold grip of the Darkness gave way to the warmth of Tzara’s atmosphere. Finally, she passed through a dense gaseous cloud and the glow of the world lit her path.
The other twelve Creators would soon arrive at Tzara’s ancient planet. The planet cloaked and hidden within the Darkness and the oldest among the worlds of the Creators, each named after its lord and master. A private planet for each to spawn a clan in their own image, A clan to protect its world and the territories they passed through while orbiting the twin stars. Planet Tzara sat entombed in the Darkness, hidden from the other Creators’ worlds that spun in light and heat, in the open.
The twelve have left the territories and entered the Darkness… soon they will arrive. Tzara recognized it was not a personal thought, nor a newly opened thought-stream, as the Creators did not need them to communicate. Thought-streams were for the clans, another means to control and monitor their masses.
It was the Darkness, pushing itself into her awareness, gentle yet persistent. We have been together since our beginnings so many cycles ago. Tzara was no longer sure where she began or the Darkness ended. It was why Tzara was the leader of the Creators, the twelve knew she spoke for the Darkness, she had chosen Tzara to lead.
Twelve fiery streaks appeared far above her lair, each protective pod passing through the planets field and entering the upper atmosphere of the gas giant world known as Tzara. The Creators would come together for the second time in the billions of cycles of their existence. Another enemy had invaded their growing territories.
This new threat came from the far side of the Territories where their Warruq defenders were few. A place thought to be safe and of little threat. An area with a single planet pulsed with the basic waves of a beginning civilization of little significance. Waves that billions of cycles ago, the Creators themselves, used to communicate, before they realized the waves carried far into the Void where others could detect them and follow them back to their origin. This was how the first conflict began so long ago.
This fledgling civilization was now stretching its reach far beyond its world. The Creators underestimated this new rival and its stationary structures that hung in the Void. Tzara once warned the Creators the latest glowing sphere was far too close to their territories. But the twelve would not listen, always avoiding conflict until clans were sent to the Realm of Warriors in numbers that filled the Darkness with their shattering remains.
How could this new enemy extinguish entire clans in battle when their invading forces were so few? Tzara let the thought fade, a discussion that can wait for the gathering.
They are here. The Darkness pushed the thought into Tzara’s systems.
An image appeared on the face of the protective field that formed the exterior wall of her lair. Twelve smoking pods of various shapes and sizes rose and fell with each passing wave of the hydrogen sea that broke their decent. The pods slowly turned until each Creator, protected deep in their fleshy womb was positioned for the short journey.
A searing flash of anger and malice surged through Tzara. With it, an idea, but whose idea, she was no longer alone, no longer in control of her own thoughts… or was it a need… destroy them all, they are vulnerable, trapped in their protective pods. The Creators snaked their way closer and Tzara’s rage subsided, leaving her to her own thoughts. The Darkness released her.
Hovering inside her lair, Tzara prepared to begin the gathering and with it, the development of a plan to extinguish this new enemy that dared to enter the Darkness. Another idea moved through Tzara, the Darkness flowing into her memory. I will expand my mass and consume more territory. The Creators will follow.
Tzara needed a stronger leader among the Clans. Aris the Chosen One was weak, she thought of herself as unique and was beginning to believe it. Aris had become dangerous and reckless. The Darkness would take care of her, when the moment was right.
It was time to awaken the fallen. An ancient Creator who long ago lead the clans and was the hero of the Dakkadian War until her desire for power twisted her into a being that could not be tolerated. Banished and caged by the Darkness herself, it was time to release Kalis. The Darkness could control her while she traveled within her mass, but once she reached the Void, Kalis would be unleashed upon the enemy and neither the Darkness or Creators would be able to completely control her. Kalis was needed to destroy this powerful invader and if all went as planned, she would be destroyed in battle and travel to the Realm of Warriors, her oath fulfilled.
53
Captain Falco
Space Station Pluto
Captain Jack Falco sat motionless in the Pluto Room while the rest of the station was abuzz with activity. Every able-bodied person was at task working to turn Station Pluto into a defensible, Battle Station. Which is critical, Falco thought, but the upload for the Battle-Net conceived by Ensign Holts and programmed by Lieutenant Bai of 10th Fleet could ensure that the O
ortians could at least be detected outside of their dark field.
Chief Pema Tenzin was hanging on every word that left Ensign Sierra Holts’s mouth while she explained the upload. “In open space,” she was restating, “it simply tells our sensors to compare the surface area of all objects within its reach. If any are an exact match, which is statistically near impossible, the Battle-Net will lock onto them and sound a warning.”
Falco could see Ensign Holts was exhausted but he remained silent and ran his hand along the smooth, dreaded plastic edge of the slab-table that consumed the center of the Pluto Room. Falco reached towards the center and brushed the pads of his fingers across the small black box that linked the Pluto Room with Lieutenant Bai on Admiral Chen’s flagship. “Even this is god damn plastic,” he grumbled
“Captain?” Ensign Holts looked his way.
“Sorry, Ensign.” Falco held up a hand, turned back toward the table, mentally dusted off his Mandarin and leaned in, as close as he could get and bellowed into the black case still under hand, sure the device could not hear him.
“Lieutenant Bai.” He needed another voice of assurance the ‘upload’ would work.
“Yes, Captain Falco?” answered Bai in perfect English.
“Are you willing to bet your life and that of every crewman in 10th Fleet and Station Pluto?” Captain Falco remained focused on the COM-Box. “Are you certain that your upload will detect the Oortians when lives depend on it?”
“Yes, Captain. The ‘upload’ will detect the Oortians identical surface area and that is all it will do.”
“Detecting objects sharing identical surface area is our best data-driven option, Captain.” Ensign Sierra Holts chimed in, “And Lieutenant Bai’s ‘upload’ will do this.”
Darkness: Book One of the Oortian Wars Page 24
