Star Force: Quenar (SF88) (Star Force Origin Series)

by Aer-ki Jyr

  Not even the V’kit’no’sat had ever been able to produce a true cloaking device, meaning that whoever these guys were, they were either technological geniuses with a singular breakthrough or a major new player that had them extremely outclassed.

  “Davis, you seeing this?” Jason’s voice asked over an open comm.

  “Yeah. They talking?”

  “Pithy. They want to address you, and their message came through in English.”

  “Link them here.”

  “No, they want to meet in person.”

  “Bad idea?”

  “Did you notice how they arrived?”

  “Perfect cloaking device.”

  “I don’t want someone or something like that getting onboard my ship.”

  “Mist scan?”

  “We can, but it’ll take some time to set up. We’ll also have to arrange a lot of security for you.”

  “Take your time, but if they want to talk that’s better than shooting first.”

  “I think this means they’ve had a cloaked ship here observing for a while.”

  “I wonder how many more are out there. You think the Zak’de’ron are completely gone?”

  “If not they’re going to get an eyeful.”

  “I know,” Davis said, referencing the tech differential. “Tell them I accept, then set it up to your liking.”

  “Holo would be to my liking,” Jason differed, “but we’ll make it work.”

  “Did we get a name?”

  “If they have a native one they didn’t give it, but the translation is Knights of Quenar.”

  It took four days before preparations were ready, then Davis found himself waiting on a rebuilt cargo bay in the center of what looked like a sports arena. The center was open to the air with large columns ringing it and all the apparatus to generate incredibly powerful shields that could bisect the area on a thought. Multiple layers could be added, meaning that anyone inside the arena could be sectioned apart like a chess board. That would allow the Knights of Quenar entry and the ability to talk with him in person, yet give Star Force the ability to protect Davis should they try anything.

  Davis was also wearing his Archon armor, clad in acolyte silver while the bright pinks of Jason and Paul were beside him. Riley was not present, instead handling fleet coordination from the Zeus and protecting Nefron, knowing that he was probably the bigger target than Davis if these newcomers wanted to do more than talk.

  A small transport had entered the bay moments ago, sealed off by newly built walls that gave it a decent landing area but then forced its occupants to pass through an airlock that held the ‘mist’ sensors. In reality they were tiny robots the size of dust that relayed their positions to the nearby sensors, so that if they were fooled by a cloaking device the little robots would be able to paint a picture of the silhouette by their physical absence in the space it occupied.

  The KoQ had been informed of the procedure and approved of it, so the first Davis saw of them was when the inside of the airlock opened and they walked through the opposite wall of the arena. They wore no visible armor, merely loose fitting green clothing with a multitude of golden ornamentation. There were three of them, each with a Humanoid torso, but from the waist down they split into four legs that were part spider part Human. They angled away from the center of mass then went straight down, but they were well muscled and looked to give them impressive jumping capability.

  Their skin was hairy, covered in greys and whites so thick he couldn’t make out the actual skin beneath it, and the same was true of their faces, which vaguely resembled dogs with a short snout, but they had two eyes and two arms much like his own, though they sported what looked like seven fingers as they walked across the considerable gap towards the three Humans with a backdrop of Archons, Knights, and Commandos of various Star Force races standing by ready to act if anything went poorly.

  Their minds are blank, Jason commented telepathically.

  Well shielded, Paul amended.

  Poker then, Davis noted as they continued to walk towards the waiting trio, trusting in his own Ikrid blocks to keep his thoughts protected if the Knights of Quenar were in fact telepathic. They waited for them to cross the 200 meters or so until they came to a low wall, barely 8 inches high, that denoted where they were not to cross. The three of them stepped up to it side by side, with the one on the left being slightly taller than the others’ 6 foot plus height, making them almost eye level with the Archons.

  “Where is the Chixzon?” the bigger one demanded, actually speaking English rather than having it work through a translation mechanism. His words carried a shrill accent, but his words were clear enough.

  “Not onboard this ship,” Davis stated plainly. “I was told you wished to speak with me.”

  “Bring him before us.”

  “Others have wished to speak with him as well, and have been declined. Given his unique abilities he is not accessible to guests.”

  “You will bring him before us,” the KoQ said, holding up his right hand towards Davis.

  Suddenly the Human in the silver armor was lifted off the ground by an invisible force. Paul couldn’t see any Lachka tendrils, but he flashed his Rentar around him without success…then with a thought he telekinetically grabbed the big one and knocked him to the ground, pinning him there as Jason stepped in front of Davis who suddenly dropped to the deck.

  The other two KoQ jerked, looking from their fallen comrade and to the armored Humans.

  “Release him,” one of them demanded, holding up a hand towards Paul and knocking the Archon off his feet and onto his butt with some kind of invisible punch that his armor’s shields did not pick up.

  Jason didn’t wait, launching himself over the wall towards the two standing KoQ and missing a fist to one of their heads when both of them turned and pointed their hands at him, catching him mid dash and holding his feet a few inches off the ground. They couldn’t fully control him, with his arms coming in close to his body as a ripple of distortion surrounded him, then released to blow both KoQ away from him, simultaneously breaking their grasp.

  When his feet hit the ground he launched at one of them, meaning to tackle and pin his arms down but he never got there, for a shield of hexagons suddenly flashed around the KoQ, with each invisible panel outlined in gold and Jason bouncing off the solid mesh of inch-wide polygons.

  As he bounced another invisible grasp took hold of him and propelled him backwards across the tiny wall above which a field of hexagons formed blocking the three Humans off from the three KoQ as the army of support troops rushed up to surround Davis and pull him back behind the two pink-clad trailblazers.

  “Stop,” the big KoQ said before further fighting could occur. “It is clear we underestimated your potential. We have come here to negotiate, not fight. And if we do not return from this vessel it will be destroyed.”

  “Do not use your powers again,” Paul warned. “Else the talking will be over.”

  “Agreed,” the one on the far right side said, now clearly taking the lead. “It is imperative that we see this Chixzon. I do not care what other relations you have with the races assembled here, but you must let us have access to him.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “We have questions that need answering.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Jason said, making it clear that they weren’t going to get what they want.

  The middle KoQ sighed, then sucked in a slow breath. “Patience,” he advised, though it was clear he was talking to his peers. “This race may be intelligent enough to understand.”

  “As you wish,” the one on the right deferred.

  “We are the Knights of Quenar,” the one in the middle said, looking at Davis who had quietly stepped up just behind the two trailblazers with the multi-colored armors surrounding him in a living wall on all other sides. “The last survivors of the Traelix. Our ancestors were among those whom you refer to as the Ancients. They and their allies fought and destroyed the
Chixzon, imprisoned their living weapons, and were rewarded for their tireless sacrifices with betrayal at the hands of those whom they had protected. Few survived the purges that followed, hiding away in the darkest corners of the galaxy and forgoing any attempt to reclaim their previous territories and glory. They had only two priorities. Vengeance came first.”

  “They destroyed over time all those who had betrayed them through indirect means, striking as phantoms and using a great many methods that we do not hold to. When their vengeance was sated, many left to live out their lives in a manner of their own choosing. Some to rebuild a shred of what was lost, others to simply coexist with the rubble of the galaxy that remained. An elite few swore an oath to a greater cause, and part of that cause was to ensure that the Chixzon were destroyed and that their living weapons were contained and never allowed to be misused. The Knights of Quenar were formed and to this day that Oath has been honored. That is why we must speak with your Chixzon.”

  “If you think we’re going to let you kill him,” Paul scoffed, “you’re crazy.”

  “If we wanted him destroyed we would have attacked and annihilated your entire fleet to insure his death. If your claims as to his origin are accurate, then we do not wish his destruction, for while in body and memory he may be Chixzon, his inner being is not. You have been gifted with a great opportunity, and we are here to insure you do not waste it.”

  “We’re open to suggestions,” Davis offered, “but not orders.”

  “If you are wise, no orders will be necessary,” the KoQ answered amicably.

  “What exactly do you want to ask him?”

  “You have said that he is the product of a genetic legacy designed to activate after a long period of inactivity so that the Chixzon may be reborn in a galaxy that has forgotten their transgressions. The Knights of Quenar have not, and we must insure that this resurrection does not occur. If it does, we must oppose it as soon as possible, and the knowledge your Chixzon hybrid possesses is critical to the fulfillment of our Oath.”

  8

  “Then let’s put that down as maybe,” Davis said neutrally, “as you explain who you are, exactly what you’re doing here, and why I shouldn’t have these two kick your ass for not keeping your invisible hands on your side of the line.”

  “Our apologies,” the middle one said. “Some races we deal with would talk to no end with no result and thus require a physical impetus to begin actual negotiations. We were unaware of your skill level. We meant no offense.”

  “Some taken,” Davis resisted.

  “It will not happen again,” the KoQ promised.

  “How long have you been monitoring this Uriti?”

  “We discovered its existence and release a little over 300 years ago. We did not intervene because the races guarding it appeared to be able to contain it through constant combat. Could we have sedated it?” he guessed to his next question. “Yes, we could have, but at great cost to us. We are not a civilization, but an order. Small in number but great in skill. We stood ready to act if the containment failed and the Uriti began to spread minions. Fortunately that was not the case, for returning it to its imprisonment would have cost us most of our fleet.”

  “And you only now reveal yourselves because there is something you need?”

  “Blunt, but accurate. You have done the galaxy a great favor, but it is up to us to make sure this stroke of good fortune is not misused or squandered. We do not seek to steal this Chixzon hybrid from you, merely to inquire of it knowledge that we seek.”

  “And if he doesn’t feel like revealing anything to you?”

  “I trust my diplomatic skill to be sufficient to convince him to give us what we need.”

  “Backed up by your fleet?”

  The middle KoQ looked at Davis’s helmet for a moment. “We did not come here to fight, though we always hold that option in reserve. I believe we can find common purpose here if such a discussion is allowed.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Our goal is to insure that the old victory is not reversed. Prior to your information reaching us, we had assumed only an outbreak of the captured Uriti would undermine it, but the revelation that the Chixzon mean to return creates an alarming new possibility that we must swiftly move to counter, thus we have come here to face it in the most direct means possible. We need to know what it is we are fighting and how to combat it. So long as you do not misuse the Uriti, we will not interfere with your possession and control of it or any others brought here. If you do misuse it, then we will be forced to act against you. Such a thing would end poorly for you…but I do not mean to threaten, only ensure that we will follow an honorable path, and that we take our Oath very seriously.”

  “Where are you based?”

  “That is not public knowledge,” the KoQ said as a galactic map appeared before him, highlighting a specific sector that in itself was over 500 lightyears in radius and situated more than a quarter rotation around the galaxy, “but we come from here and travel wherever necessary. With your permission, we would like to establish an enclave here to monitor this Uriti and prevent anyone from tampering with it or the Chixzon. I can assure you that our forces are far more formidable than any others that have so sworn their allegiance to safeguard this Preserve.”

  “Trust takes time,” Davis advised. “Do not seek to rush it.”

  “The galaxy does not afford us unlimited time, and if the Chixzon are returning we need to maximize what we have of it. The Knights of Quenar cannot fight a reborn Chixzon empire. We are only strong enough to prevent its return. We must act now before we are outscaled, hence our impolite insistence that we speak with your hybrid.”

  A hologram appeared beside Paul and walked in front of the three Humans, stepping over the low wall and through the invisible shield that had popped up between them earlier. Its black, rough flesh was soundless against the floor as it looked at each KoQ in turn.

  “What is it you’d like to know,” Nefron’s hologram asked.

  The middle KoQ nodded respectfully to Davis, then turned his full attention on the Chixzon, studying him. “Your stories were legitimate. You are most definitely reborn in body, but what is the state of your mind?”

  “My mind is my own, though I retain the Chixzon knowledge and skills. I would suggest that anyone else going through the transformation would be lost. I barely survived, but am now in no danger of losing myself.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “The Archons did not give up on me, spending a great deal of time and effort to trick me into thinking my way out of the problem. My instincts are Chixzon, and one thing we do not suffer is to be inferior. They goaded me into turning my newfound culture against my programming. Once a wedge was opened I was able to do the rest. I do not serve the Chixzon, yet I am Chixzon in every way that matters. The Uriti will obey me, and I am loyal to Star Force. Neither fact will change.”

  “How much time do we have before others are reborn?”

  “I cannot say for certain, only that my transformation was hastened due to Star Force’s curiosity. Natural progression will occur eventually, but such a thing was not evident in this region. I cannot speak of the others across the galaxy.”

  “Did the Chixzon seed only specific regions?”

  “No, they seeded it all. There was to be no possibility of oversight or negligence. None were guaranteed to survive, thus the seeding had to be thorough and subtle.”

  “Will you tell us what your previous race was?”

  “So you can do what with them?”

  “Prevent them from transforming.”

  “How?”

  “The same method you have claimed to use. Removal of their legacy genetics.”

  “That decision resides with the Star Force Director.”

  “And what are their plans upon arrival in a galaxy that has all but forgotten them?”

  “To quietly gather and hide while they assess the situation and the means needed to resume their quest for dom
ination. They will not make the same mistake twice.”

  “You refer to the sedative or the Uriti?”

  “I refer to them overreaching. When the sedative was used, they had no contingency plan. They will not operate without one again.”

  “There is much I would ask you, but the pertinent question now is one of trust,” the KoQ said as he looked back at Davis. “We have not made a good impression other than to demonstrate that we have powers comparable or superior to your own. I am curious as to yours, but for the moment I will ask what you would have us do to prove ourselves worthy of association?”

  “Wait your turn,” Davis said simply, offering no other explanation.

  A small curl of his lip denoted what the Human thought was a smile, but no other reaction was forthcoming. “That shall be our penance for hastiness. I trust that you will not delay in countering the threat that you have intimate knowledge of.”

  “If you wish to begin gaining trust, I suggest you do not hide your ships when in this system unless there is combat.”

  “Your last caveat is noted, and we agree to your terms. Is there anything else you require?”

  “An explanation.”

  “Of what in particular?”

  “What the end result of you coming here is expected to look like.”

  “We wish to assist with the establishment of this Preserve and the collection of Uriti. If you can successfully keep them here, we will utilize your good intentions to aid our own. Our ships will patrol and guard this region against interference along with your own while we also pursue greater knowledge of our enemy from your Chixzon and seek out any vestige of their genetic legacy in order to purge it before they can return.”

  “And what happens if you find out they already have returned elsewhere?”

  “We fight them to the last.”

  “What have you been doing previously, other than watching over sleeping Uriti?”

  “We have a variety of tasks, but none as important as this. We seek out injustice and bring it full circle. Many of us will make individual pilgrimages across the galaxy on individual quests to aid in our own development. Most of what we do occurs behind the scenes. We do not have a public face, and only show ourselves to you now as a courtesy and as a testament to our seriousness involving the matters at hand.”