Sodenia- At the Edge of Chaos

by Luigi Robles

  The translator began speaking slowly in the Obianant language. When he finished translating, most of the Obians in the group raised their hands instantly. But three remained: two adult Obians, with one of them carrying a youngling.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” Felior asked as he turned on his electric rod. “We have some brave ones. Ask that one there.” He gestured towards the Obian that stood alone. “Why does he defy the Acram?”

  The translator spoke to the Obian and then turned towards Felior. It looked as if he had gotten a direct answer.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Speak,” Felior said impatiently.

  “The Obian says…” Ichuben said, hesitating, “that he’d rather croak than serve any one of you scum.”

  The Obian spat at Felior, but the fluid never got close to reaching him.

  “I can fix that for you,” Felior said, walking over to the Obian without hesitation. With a firm grip, he thrust the electric rod through the throat and into the chest of the Obian until it came out the other side, killing the Obian instantly.

  The Obian carrying a youngling began to panic, saying various different things in their language.

  “While we are warmed up,” Felior said, retrieving the rod from the corpse, “ask that one the same thing.” He gestured towards the panicked Obian. “Let’s see how brave it is. Let’s see if he dares say the same thing.”

  The translator spoke to the Obian hesitantly, saying a few more things than the last time he translated.

  “Well?” Felior said, looking like he was beginning to lose his patience.

  “He said that you have already taken everything,” Ichuben said with reluctance. “That he is not a warrior. He is just a farmer, trying to live a peaceful life. If he agrees to your terms, he will only prolong his life until the next battle, where he will surely die. He is only a farmer, he keeps repeating. And for his offspring, he can’t decide the life he will lead. He can’t condemn his own blood to a miserable life.”

  “Very well,” Felior said, firmly gripping the electrical rod. “I can facilitate things for them by not giving them an option.”

  “Felior, stop,” Saavan said.

  “What did you just say?” Felior asked, sounding incredulous. “Is it me, or are you protecting these filthy soil-working beings? You should be ashamed to call yourself an Acram.”

  Saavan rushed Felior and thrust his rod through the center of Felior’s chest, where most of his vital organs were located. The Acram’s limp body fell to the floor.

  In that moment, Saavan made the decision that if he could help it at all, he wouldn’t let cruelty run rampant, even if it meant risking his own life.

  “Tell him to just agree for now,” Saavan said as he looked at the translator. “If he doesn’t, others will surely kill him. Tell him that it’s unlikely that we will ever require them to go to war for us. Tell him that not much will change. That soon he will be able to return to his normal life. He is lucky to be alive. Tell him that it’s for the young one’s sake.”

  The translator nodded and began to speak to the Obian in a much calmer way. Seconds later, the Obian raised his hand in agreement and began walking towards the heavy armored vehicle.

  “I trust that you will not say anything about this?” Saavan asked.

  The translator nodded but then looked far ahead, as if someone was approaching. His reaction made Saavan turn. Noble Liniarle was coming towards Saavan.

  Saavan lowered his gaze and waited for the Noble to address him.

  “So, what do we have here,” Noble Liniarle said.

  Saavan had a healthy dose of respect for the Acram Nobles. He knew that they were as elite as elite got, and they would kill without hesitation just by using the tongue of the ancients. At this point, Saavan hadn’t yet learned the ancient tongue, so he had no defense against it. And he also knew that the Noble was well aware of that.

  “An Acram killing one of his own?” Noble Liniarle said.

  “No,” Saavan said as he met the Noble’s gaze. “I was simply upholding the Acram cause.”

  “By killing one of your own?” the Noble said.

  “No,” Saavan said, unwavering. “By putting the Acram cause before anyone or anything. Felior was going to kill the Obian just because he hadn’t had his fill of killing. Even if that meant killing them before they pledged allegiance to the Acram.”

  “I feel a great anger coming from you,” the Noble said, and then she turned towards the translator. “Is that true? Is that how events transpired?”

  The translator nodded fervently.

  “You are quite brave,” the Noble said. “You could have gotten yourself in a lot of trouble because of this. What is your name?”

  “Saavan Celeospect.”

  “Come with me, Saavan. It looks like you have a lot to learn about the Acram cause.”

  Soon after, Saavan found himself on his way back to the Acram space. But from what he heard the Noble tell the pilot of the star ship, they were not going to the Acram’s homeworld. They were going to Aisumer, the moon where the great elders were based.

  Saavan was nervous throughout the trip, but he held his own. The Noble talked to him about the countless wars she had been in and how difficult it had been to obtain her high rank.

  When they got to Aisumer, they went straight towards the main hall. There they waited near the dais in the center of the room for one of the elders to show up.

  “Most of the first generation Acram warriors,” the Noble said in a low voice, “learn about the cause after their first battle through an official cause instructor designated by the elders. But you should learn it the same way I learned it. I see the same fire in you for the cause that I once had.”

  That couldn’t be further from the truth, Saavan thought.

  One of the doors of the hall opened, and an Acram elder came walking through. Saavan was able to confirm all the rumors he had ever heard about the elders being immortal, as the elder looked even younger than him.

  “That’s Enenna, one of the newest elders,” the Noble whispered. “Well, compared to the rest. But she was the one that told me about the cause.”

  “So, you’ve found a special Acram?” Enenna said in a frail voice as she neared. “Another one that will carry our flame into the galaxy?”

  “I believe I have,” the Noble said as she bowed.

  “What you are about to hear,” Enenna said slowly, “is only for you and you alone. You should not talk about this with any other Acram. If you do, it is off with your head. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Long ago,” Enenna said, “when our civilization was still young and we had scarcely constructed our first star ships, we headed out into the universe to explore. We found many wonderful things throughout the ages, countless species and worlds. We thought of ourselves as the great explorers. The seers of the unknown. As our technology and civilization progressed, so did our reach into the universe. We were at peace for countless life cycles. Until one day something from a distant and more ancient time came our way, and it brought with it beings of pure destruction. Beings that could not be reasoned with, beings that could not be slain, beings that did not tire; immortal beings, their bodies all machine. They brought our civilization to near annihilation, without compassion and without hesitation, only sparing a few. The immortals left behind a message to be spread throughout the galaxy: ‘Darkness will come to the universe once again. Life must end.’”

  Saavan had so many questions, but he knew it was better not to ask.

  “It took our civilization countless lifetimes to rebuild the greatness we once had,” Enenna continued. “But this time, the Acram had a common goal and a unifying and undeniable cause: to be ready if ever darkness came knocking at our doorstep once again. We began by asking other occupants of the galaxy to join with us. No, we did not ask, we begged. But to no avail. So, we took matters into our own hands. Since then, we have striven to conquer and unite the galaxy.”
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  “Sir, we are ready to make our next jump,” one of the Acram behind him said, breaking his train of thought.

  Was the story the elders told to justify the Acram conquest even real? Saavan thought. Was there such thing as a machine civilization in the void of space? Countless lifetimes have passed since the time the elders talked about, and yet nothing has been heard or witnessed since then. But now the Acram cause runs rampant throughout the galaxy. Nobles inebriated with power, elders filled with greed and empty of remorse. Millions have died due to the cause.

  But Saavan had done his part in all of it. He thought of himself as a just Noble, showing compassion and saving lives wherever possible. He had saved countless lives throughout his long career as a Noble. Many of his kin respected him for that, but many more just wanted him dead; that much was clear. But during his calling as a Noble, he had amassed a great deal of power over the Acram and its forces. Even the elders would think twice before getting in his way.

  He knew that with just a few more conquests, he would be able to overthrow the current Acram governing bodies and establish one of his own.

  “Sir, the other ships are requesting a status update,” the same Acram said. “Please advise, sir.”

  “Jump.”

  14

  The New Fleet

  Fain sat in the pilot’s seat, with the command station firing up all around him. He was nervous for the first time since he’d first piloted Sodenia. The command station, Sodenia’s main navigation control unit, was already in place, with the spherical view screen lighting up after its ascension. From there, he had a complete view of the outside world; the only thing he couldn’t see was a small spot below his seat. He saw the colossal ship in its entirety as well as everything around it, including Earth, the moon, and the Ochilenes ship, Vieron Vasteos.

  Fain closed his eyes and tried to feel around the controls of his pilot’s seat—the levers, the switches, the foot throttles, but most especially the side stick control. As he felt each one of them, he tried to experience in his mind once again what each did. He began to feel what it was like to be in control of Sodenia. It was instant, it was precise.

  “Got it,” Fain said as he opened his eyes.

  “Are we ready to go now?” Kya asked through his pilot’s seat.

  “Just a few more seconds,” Fain said, trying to calm his mind.

  Fain knew what was at stake here. He knew that they were the first humans in history that would attempt to travel at light speed. And he also knew that there was a very real possibility that things could go horribly wrong. The lives of 1,600-plus humans were in his hands.

  A new lever had been added to his cockpit on the right side of the console. The thrust-like lever had a solid build, and it required a button on its side to be pressed so it could slide up or down. Below the lever it read Alcubierre Drive, and on the side of it were the numbers 0.5, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and Theoretical Max. The last words were colored in red.

  “Kya, I mostly understand this,” Fain said as he looked at the lever. “But what does the point five mean? Does that mean we can go at half the speed of light?”

  “That’s the theory,” Kya said. “We have yet to test it, but there are settings in the gravity cores that allow them to function at partial power.”

  Kya and Pycca had been working hard on this lever, and it looked like they’d got everything just right.

  “OK. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Have everyone prep for FTLT. No, not faster than the speed of light; we shouldn’t try to do so much. It might be a bumpy first ride. We’ll keep it at the speed of light, if possible.”

  “I’ll let everyone know. And what about the Ochilenes? Have you decided the order of the trek? They are standing by and waiting for your orders.”

  “Let them go ahead. Tell them to leave at will. Have you calculated how long it will take them to reach the asteroid belt versus us traveling at only light speed?”

  “They will be there instantly, and we will be there within eighteen minutes from when the Alcubierre drive is engaged.”

  “So, they’ll have to wait for us. Please advise them that we’ll be eighteen minutes late to the party, and it’s probably a good idea for them to steer clear of us.”

  The Ochilenes ship moved away from Sodenia, and one of its sides began to glow. Before he knew it, the ship had disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of glowing dust. Fain never thought it possible that something as large as the Vieron Vasteos would be able to disappear in the blink of an eye.

  “We won’t be hearing about their safe arrival anytime soon, right?” Fain asked as he slid his right hand over the Alcubierre drive lever.

  “That’s correct,” Kya said. “Even if they have already sent a message about their safe arrival, I’m afraid it will take no less than eighteen minutes to reach us.”

  “Understood,” Fain said. “Put up the charted map on the main viewer and make it large. Start a five-second countdown to light speed on everyone’s screen.”

  The charted map to the asteroid belt, along with the five-second countdown, appeared before Fain. He focused on the countdown, pressing the button on the side of the Alcubierre lever and getting ready to slide it one position up.

  When the countdown reached zero, he slid the throttle-like lever up, letting it stop at 1. He then saw Earth disappear behind him in a matter of seconds, and the space all around him darkened. Soon, the only thing visible to Fain was the charted map to the asteroid belt that Kya had put together. But light speed travel wasn’t without sensation, and although they were not moving before the Alcubierre drive was engaged, now it felt like they were. But it didn’t feel like they were moving through a place; instead, it felt like the universe was moving through them. It was the oddest feeling Fain had ever encountered.

  A few minutes passed by in silence as Fain stared at the slowly moving dot that was them on the charted map. It was almost mind-boggling at first, how they could be moving at the speed of light, and yet the dot on the map was moving so slowly. That meant that 248 million miles were no laughing matter, not even at the speed of light.

  After Fain began feeling more comfortable, he began to look around the main viewing screen and felt a little disappointed with what he saw. There was nothing; no flashing lights, no trails of fast-moving stars like he had seen in the old turn-of-the-century sci-fi movies. There was none of that. But then he realized why that was: it was because light from those objects was having a hard time reaching them. Or rather, they were moving so fast that the light from nearby objects was not reaching them for enough time to make itself visible.

  “So, are we able to talk?” Fain finally said.

  “Of course,” Kya said. “The space around Sodenia is not affected by the Alcubierre drive. Only the space in front of the ship and behind it is being altered.

  “Yeah,” Fain said, letting go of the Alcubierre lever for the first time since he’d engaged the drive. “I realized that once I was able to hear my own voice. How is the crew doing?”

  “Nearly half of the crew members are reporting motion sickness, and there have been several reported cases of emesis.”

  “You mean, some have puked?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I didn’t think the feeling of traveling at light speed was that bad. Or better said, not bad at all—it was rather exhilarating.”

  “It appears that not all bodies react alike. I have already sent a few crew members who are now having stress-induced tachycardia to the medical bay.”

  “Will they be OK?” Fain asked, feeling a bit worried.

  “They’re being treated by medical professionals. I’m confident that they’ll be OK.”

  “Hopefully this will be just an adjustment phase for them. If not, they’ll have to be relieved. Please make a list of everyone that reported sickness and ask the rest of the crew to report whether they felt sick or not. I need to know what to expect if we need to make the run back to Earth.”

  “Consider i
t done.”

  “Thank you, Kya. Hey, how is the Battle Board coming along? Are there any good strategies coming in? Has anyone else made it to the qualifiers?”

  “As of now, three other ideas have made it to the qualifiers, and there are one hundred and twenty-two new submissions that have yet to be voted on.”

  “Who wrote the ones that made it through?”

  “John Slick from Eora’s gunner crew, Elise Gean from engineering, and August Macaraeg are the latest ones to make it to the qualifiers.”

  “So, August finally made it? I’m sure he wasn’t going to stop until he saw his name up there. He’s got spirit alright. I can’t wait to read them later.”

  In truth, Fain had been reading and studying every single strategy that was posted onto the Battle Board. He took his time with each strategy, trying to find its weak spot, and once he had found it, he would move on to the next. Some strategies were easy to break; in many cases, it would just take a few seconds. But some of the more well-thought-out strategies took him longer, and he liked that. It made him feel like they were heading in the right direction.

  And whenever he wasn’t piloting, making important decisions, or breaking strategies, he was writing his own, inspired by the other ideas he saw on the board.

  Ten minutes passed in silence, with Fain carefully observing the Sodenia dot move slowly through the charted map.

  “So, am I just going to go back to zero on the Alcubierre drive when we reach the belt?” Fain asked, closing his eyes, trying to picture what would happen next. “And are we just going to stop? I can’t really imagine what’s going to happen. I mean, I can imagine it, but I am not sure if I am right.”