Lyxia thought back to the day when the ship readied for launch, the day she was granted an audience with the Empress. She was told that command of the community came with a responsibility to put the beings aboard first, before herself. That their lives were all precious and the loss of any one of them should be thought of as losing one’s own child. But in the same light, she would have to be able to sacrifice life when the situation called for it. The Empress reminded her that never before had one so young been appointed command of a vessel such as this, but Lyxia was fated to be the first. It had been long whispered by the prophets that this young maiden would be the key to unlocking the enigma that is the Harbinger. This had been where Lyxia had troubles following blindly. Belief in the prophets and their guidance was one thing, but to believe she was an integral part of a grand scheme of fate was beyond her. But the Empress assured her to look within, to believe in herself, and fate would follow.
“Is that why I am driven so to rush to the edge of the galaxy to save this creature and his people?” she asked the emptiness in her room. “Is it fate that pulls us together?”
Her mind flooded once again with the images of this Harbinger, the way he spoke so defiantly and the confidence he held in his actions as he addressed the Council was staggering. Lyxia had seen Councillors thousands of years old who were unable to stand so proud before the Empress! To her, this Aen was a puzzle her curious mind needed to solve.
One by one, the files from the Amarra began to appear on the holo-screen at her desk. Lyxia stretched out, shed the covers and sauntered across the room naked. After the Council session ended, she couldn’t wait to rid herself of her cumbersome dress uniform and simply lounge around in nothing but her skin. The cool air of the room soothed her tense muscles.
Slowly, she began to research what she so adamantly sought to blindly protect; a world at the cusp of discovery, but also at the brink of annihilation. She had felt for Aen, his words tugged at her emotions, but the Dark Light was also the closest Imperial ship to the Sol region. They had already been dispatched to find out why the Amarra had fallen silent, and were halfway across the galaxy when the plea was made. To Lyxia, it made sense to offer her services, but it was also a sobering reality. They alone would be facing a Husk Harvester, quite different than any raider party they had ever encountered before. And help would not come until long after the battle had ended—it would be nearly two weeks after she arrived on Terra Sol before the Empress and her escorts would join her.
So she read in the silence of her quarters; her staff knew better then to disturb her this soon after a Council meeting. On and on she read the detailed reports recorded by Ameia amazed her. Time seemed to slow as she lost herself in the data stream, then she reached the reports and analysis of the Harbinger and she began to see why the prophets so coveted this being. Everything she had ever believed in was called into question as the readouts revealed his true nature.
Lyxia’s heart raced, and her eyes traced back to the picture of his face. Nothing she had ever learned in the Academy could prepare her for what she was seeing. Energy readouts like this were usually emitted from the gods themselves; the stars. But here, on this lonely planet out on the edge of the known galaxy, a living god was born of flesh! All the tales about the Harbinger that she’d scoffed at once, dismissed as tales to scary younglings, they were all true—he existed, and in nine days she would meet him face-to-face. Soon she would be part of history; soon she would become legend.
“How long until we reach the heliosphere of Sol?” she queried the AI.
“It will be one hundred and fifty two days, twenty two hours and seventeen minutes until we reach the outer reaches of Sol’s fire.” The computer sang back. “Then it will take a few hours to plot navigation to Terra Sol before we can resume course. The system is shrouded in a thick cloud of ice and debris that makes direct jumps difficult.”
Lyxia thought for a moment; a few hours stationary at the edges of the system were a few hours the planet didn’t have. “Can we use any of the data sent from the Amarra to extrapolate navigational info? Surely there is something in this pile of reports that will help us save time?”
“Processing,” the computer replied as it began to sift through the mountains of data saved throughout the last few thousand years by the research team. The silence was deafening as Lyxia waited impatiently.
“I believe you may have something there, Councillor,” it said at long last. “There is much pertinent information on the orbits of the eight planets in orbit around Sol that we can properly navigate a direct path to Terra Sol—give or take a margin of error of a million or so kilometers.”
“Good.” She said as she too began to study a representation of the planetary orbits. Strategically, she began to plan out an angle of attack to best catch the slavers by surprise. That would be an important part of the battle; if they became alert to the presence of the Dark Light, the task of defeating their foes would rise threefold.
“As we close in to the heliosphere, lock on to the Amarra’s transponder to cut down on the margin of error. I want to come in on the vertical plane, not the horizontal and I want to come out of jump space between the planet’s moon and itself with weapons charged!”
“That is a highly risky manoeuver.” The VI chimed in. “One that breaks more than a few Imperial regulations for inner system travel.”
“I appreciate the warnings, but if we don’t catch them off-guard, there won’t be much of us left for the brass at Fleet Command to scream at. Revise the time index for our arrival using these parameters and recalculate.”
“Stand by,” it said coldly. The seconds ticked by in silent agony; Lyxia made a mental note to work on her patience, as it seemed to be nonexistent lately.
“Revised trajectory calculated; time to target eight days, twenty three hours and fifty six minutes with no delay at edge of heliosphere.”
“Excellent.” She said with another stretch. Looking back at her bed she realized that she could now feel herself relaxing enough to sleep for a few hours. “Wake me in three hours please. I have a lot to accomplish before we reach our destination, and I would hate to arrive unprepared,” she said, as she crawled under the covers and closed her eyes. Her skin was caressed by the silky soft sheets that had been cooled by the air in the room. As slumber began to take hold of her, she started to dream of this paradise at the edge of the galaxy, and of the stunning god of power that welcomed her with open arms.
Lyarran Vessel Amarra, Southern Pacific Ocean Floor -
Four Months and Ten Days until Arrival
“I really hate to wake you Aen, but it is rather urgent.”
Caretaker’s voice rang off the metallic walls like the world’s most annoying alarm clock and quite possibly the last thing Aen wanted to hear as he was sleeping. It had the ability to change the tone of its voice to better convey emotional context and this one was a drawl of pessimism. His eyes slowly opened, and with it the dim lighting of the room raised from the constant glow of the outer rim of his eyes. Once his head moved, the room’s sensors reacted and raised the lighting to normal. Aen had fallen asleep in the midst of his research; the data pad lay on his chest as it still scrolled with incoming files. It didn’t take him long to shake the fatigue off and sit up to respond to the AI’s request as he simply tossed the pad on his cot.
“What is it?” he asked, still a bit groggy.
“I believe it is something that must be shown to you, rather than told.”
“Fine, I’ll be there right away.” Aen said with a sigh. Caretaker was a bit melodramatic and now seemed to be one of those times when it really showed. He wasn’t sure it was just that the AI annoyed him with its antics, or that he was roused from his dreams of the blue-eyed Paxyn beauty. As much as Aen wanted it to be the former, it was plainly apparent that he was more than smitten with Council Lyxia and it was her that dominated his thoughts; waking and in his dreams
. He pulled the wetsuit-like under-layer up and over his shoulders, and the suit’s electronic weave closed the seam in the front automatically, making it look like it was never there. That always amazed him, no matter how many times he did it.
Slowly, he sauntered down the poorly-lit passage way—it looked like one of those old train tunnels in horror movies, the lights flickering on and off. Aen chuckled; there was nothing to do afraid of, but the whole scene was striking. He half expected a ghoul or demon to jump out of the shadows! The metal hallway twisted and turned; the armory was deep in the bowels of the ship and quite far from the Operations Control Center. He climbed stairs that once moved much like an escalator, but now were little more than a dead artifact—like the rest of the ships systems.
Floor after floor, he ascended, until he approached the half-open doors of the Ops Con with its orange lights spilling out into the dark hall outside. From where he stood he could see his companion skittering about in his new toy; the drone it had hijacked and “possessed.”
“What took you so long?” it asked, not even bothering to turn an address him. Aen expected little else from this AI with an attitude and simply sloughed it off with a shrug.
“I walked—it’s half a mile or so down to the armory.”
“And you couldn’t have teleported? It is rather urgent.”
“So stop nagging me and show me what you have then,” Aen said with a cruel smile. His companion floated over to the main console and began punching in a few lines of code he couldn’t see from his vantage point. As he was about to move in to look closer, the main view screen crackled to life in a hiss of static. “That’s new.” He muttered, but it wasn’t why he was brought up here.
Before he could make any further comments, the static melted away into a grainy image. Aen could make out what looked to be the moon with a massive sheet of white behind it, but the clarity was simply not there to truly discern what it was. Slowly the image cleared, and with it so did Aen’s understanding of what he was witnessing. It wasn`t the moon, it was an image of Pluto with the backdrop of the Kuiper belt behind it. Once full clarity was achieved—minus the pixel loss from the giant crack running through the bottom left corner of the screen—the image began to zoom in on the cloud of ice that surrounded the solar system. He watched as these chunks of ice and rock danced about in space; some impacting each other and spinning off in opposite ways. It was a constant motion; a well-choreographed routine playing out before his very eyes!
It was an overabundance of these collisions that drew his attention; there was something very large moving through the darkness. Its shape was impossible to make out as only a few lines became visible for mere seconds as the ice ricocheted off the hull. But even though he couldn`t tell what it looked like, Aen knew exactly what and who it was; the Husk were about to clear the barrier of rock and ice which spread from the inner planets to the outlying crop of ice comets. In a matter of moments, anyone on Earth with a strong telescope and lucky aim would find themselves looking at a historic find.
Aen watched quietly as the nose of the craft edged out of the belt and the distant sunlight washed upon the black hull for the first time. The initial photos Caretaker gave him were blurry and nondescript, but this was like being right there in person. It reminded him of a pine cone—an odd comparison, maybe, but an honest one, as the nose seemed to be the only smooth surface before breaking into layers upon layers of metal structures jutting forth from the central mass. Bit by bit, the light revealed more and more as the cone-shaped craft lurched forward; its shape was beyond his comprehension as it seemed to go on and on. Once it was clear from the ice field, it seemed to slow to a stop and the layers of “pine cone shapes” expanded out even more than before. The first thing Aen thought of was that it looked as though they were sitting quietly and listening to the multitude of radio signals from Earth that had travelled out that far. Earth was being studied before they would move in for the kill!
This is what he needed to refocus on the task at hand. Before, it was only a blurry image. Now, though, he stood as he would in the darkness of space, staring this foreboding doom down, head-on. Maybe with all that he had been through and the new fascination and attraction to Lyxia, he had not taken the threat as seriously as he could have. But now there was no hiding it; the Husk were here and for certain they would gather all the Intel they could and push on for their goal—Earth.
FOURTEEN
Lyarran Vessel Amarra, Southern Pacific Ocean Floor -
Four Months and Ten Days until Arrival
“How much of this ship is still functional? Are there any other storage rooms of weapons that we can use?” Aen wondered out loud as he finally broke his silent stupor at the image on the screen.
“Most of the ship’s systems are still offline, but for the most part the internal structure of the ship is intact—other than a few compartments which are structurally compromised and flooded. Rooms have been hermetically sealed and everything inside has been preserved perfectly and should operate like the day they were loaded,” Caretaker replied.
“Any way of getting this stuff into the hands of our soldiers?” Aen quipped, knowing the odds of it being possible were low. He stepped inside and began to search for what he had initially set out for.
“I am sorry—all cargo transport drones are unable to function under water. So unless you plan on flying the Amarra out of the ocean and dock it on land to offload, I believe the weapons are useless.”
Those words lit a light-bulb of sorts inside his mind. Aen quickly began to think of possibilities to help in the resistance. “Caretaker, are you saying this ship is still flight-worthy?”
“I did not mean to give that impression Aen. I have not done the proper scans of the Amarra’s systems to make such a claim.”
“Scrap all of our other plans!” Aen said quickly. “Do the necessary scans now! I need to know if the Amarra is an asset or not!”
“One moment.” The echoing voice of the AI spoke, followed by silence as it began the search through the multitude of systems to find his answers.
“Navigation systems slightly decayed, but can still be used.” Caretaker called out after his first inquiries had finished.
Aen fumbled through the data logs and manifests of the ship. The Amarra was a massive ship—over six kilometers long—and would be an amazing ace-in-the-hole for the coming fight. It was a piece of the puzzle that the enemy would not expect, an oversight that the Husk would regret.
“Weapons unresponsive; PA cannons have only a few rounds able to be launched.”
That was music to Aen’s ears; the Plasma Accelerator Cannons were an integral part of the plan taking shape in his mind! They superheated plasma rounds, and using a magnetic coil system, launched them at near the speed of light at their targets. The research he had done showed the devastation these rounds could create; a weapon that had kept the Husk hoard at bay for eons.
“Reactors unresponsive—power levels zero, fusion chambers are unable to achieve reaction.” This was the news Aen didn’t want to hear. “But I believe using your heart as a power source can compensate for this.” It continued.
“Engine status unknown, without the reactors online there is no way to cycle them. The fact we are at the bottom of the ocean doesn’t help either.”
“Check the readouts from when I was connected to the ship.” Aen interrupted as he paced in the Ops Con room. “I felt a pull from the reactor room; like the Amarra wanted to start the fire within.”
“Checking.”
Minutes passed in maddening silence as Aen stopped his pacing and waited for a reply. With a glance around the room, he could see multiple monitors scrolling through massive amounts of information; Caretaker was running ten or more data sweeps at once!
“Anything?” he asked.
“Patience, please,” was the response.
There was no time for patie
nce, in his opinion. Time was something the people of Earth had so little of now. But he was at the mercy of this construct, and it alone knew the operating systems of this vessel.
“There is evidence that your hunch may be correct.” Caretaker said at last. “The ship’s computers relayed the energy it was receiving and directed it to the drive relays, causing a reaction to occur in the start-up cycle.”
“So she will fly?”
“Considering the thrusters have no use underwater and the main engines cannot fire down here as well you would have to find a way to lift the Amarra four and a half kilometres from the ocean’s floor to clear the surface before we could do anything, but yes she will fly.”
Aen smiled; his plan was taking shape. “Leave those details with me.”
—
A sense of urgency filled Aen as he rushed to accomplish the impossible. Raising the long dormant Amarra would take a miracle, but he was hoping he had just that in his back pocket! He knew from the sheer distance the enemy was from Earth that he could pull off this task without them being aware. Hanging in the air, the Amarra miles below him on the ocean floor, Aen began to concentrate and grasp the ship’s hull with his telekinesis. He fell into a deep meditative state, as he reached out with his hands to grab something far larger than he could ever hold in them. Slowly, a sensation appeared and Aen could feel the coral-covered skin of the ship. As he curled his fingers to tighten his mental grasp, he began to pull. His heart raced as it churned out energy to enforce his will. With a great effort he felt it shift slightly, but the weight of miles of ocean water holding it down was too much even for him!
With a deep breath, Aen let go and relaxed his mind; he had to think of a different way. With all the power he held, even he couldn’t part the sea like Moses. The thought held fast in his head—he didn’t have to part the sea, only lessen the load of water on top of the vessel he wished to raise. The concept wasn’t too far out of reach; water moved well if the right amount of force was applied.
Rise of Aen Page 26
