by Reg Franklin
It never got the chance.
Jennifer launched every piece of damaged equipment she could grab at the now very open target, pinning it to a bulkhead, a piece of rigid pipe plunging through Quordex’s left eye, anchoring its head to the wall. It screamed once and fell limp.
“This time, have the good taste to stay dead.” Stragdoc sniffed.
---
“Sir! Something’s happening to the Vandle fleet!”
Chris scanned the battlefield. Damaged vessels were everywhere, oxygen venting towards Sagittarius. But the Vandle ships had stopped attacking. “What…?”
As one, the enemy vessels realigned themselves to point at the black hole.
---
“Now, before we were so rudely interrupted.” Stragdoc levelled his pistol at Jennifer. “Alive? Or dead?”
“I actually get a choice?” Jennifer pulled her own gun in a flash.
“Callixta would prefer dead, whereas I would much rather make an example of you.” He shrugged. “So, I’m good either way.”
+DEATH FOR BOTH OF YOU!+
Forgotten, clinging barely to life, Lavnabren rose from her hiding place, at the main controls.
+I HAVE DEACTIVATED THE MACHINES HOLDING THIS CRADLE IN PLACE! THE WILL OF LAVNABREN IS FOR MY CHILDREN AND I TO ENTER THE VOID, AND I GRANT YOU THE GIFT OF JOINING US!+
With unbelievable strength, the alien mother smashed the controls, preventing the reactivation of the powerful fields that had protected the station from entering the event horizon of Sagittarius A.
41.
As if driven by a singular mind, the Vandle fleet accelerated towards the singularity. If human, Xaodi, Prelt, Relex, Gieron, Parv’irer, or Opkohc ears could hear inside those vessels, they would have heard shrieks of ecstasy as the Vandleifdulus obeyed their Queen and marched, lemming-like, to their collective deaths.
“All vessels, clear from their paths!” Chris ordered, awestruck as a species willingly exterminated itself with no remorse, no hesitation; the greatest mass suicide in recorded galactic history.
“Is it over?” Athlé breathed, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Chris looked at his tactical display. Psi-Omegan warships had begun encircling the remnants of the Alliance fleet. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
---
Jennifer and Stragdoc glanced at each other, and simultaneously bolted. As she ran for her ship, she could hear Lavnabren wailing in despair.
Kill you next time. Paul’s mental voice boomed in her head. She could only sigh.
“Ashpool, you need to get out of there, now. Telemetry shows the station will hit the event horizon within 2 minutes.”
Panting, Jennifer responded. “Good to hear you’re still there, Tazer. What’s going on out there?”
“Psi-Omegan reinforcements have encircled us, demanding we turn you over.”
Goddamn it. She rounded a bend, her needler right there. So they want me? Jennifer grinned as she jumped in and sealed the hatch, remembering the Vandle ship she’d rammed. They can have me.
---
Vaathek was seething. This had been her fleet, and was now co-opted by Dalth. The Empress had been specific, the orders to capture the woman superseded all others.
“Commodore, we have incoming!”
Vaathek checked the readings and smiled inwardly. Maybe having the Empire eat a little humble pie would be good for it.
---
Stragdoc found his crew dead, massacred by the pale aliens. All this technology, lost. He raced aboard his shuttle, telekinetically lifting it out of the landing bay as he moved to the bridge. He found some comfort in that either Jennifer would be killed by the black hole, or be captured shortly.
Pulling away from the station, he was horrified to see another fleet arriving. All the ships resembling vessels of the Alliance. “No….” His jaw worked.
“This is President Kelly Young of Earth, on behalf of the Alliance Defence Force. Psi-Omegan vessels, we thank you for your assistance, and are prepared to accept diplomatic relations at this time.”
“NO!” Stragdoc screamed. Before, he could have wiped out the remaining fleet, claiming to Earth and the others they had died valiantly, allowing him to set terms of his own choosing. But now, he was vastly outnumbered. Communications began pouring in, requesting updates on his status, whether or not they should open fire, Callixta wanting to know if Jennifer was dead…
“Break. Off.” He ground out into the communications. “Return to Numenor.” Stragdoc wanted nothing more than to order a full attack, but while he could undoubtedly cause massive damage, the other worlds would wipe him out, then target Numenor. The time was not yet right. But he made a mental note of the name Kelly Young as he moved for the retreating Red Talon.
Young had humiliated him. His time would come.
---
Jennifer laughed shakily as the Psi-Omegan fleet broke away, starting to accelerate to superluminal. Then she remembered what was happening behind her, so she spun the needler around.
The station, the Cradle that had birthed Lavnabren and her madness, was slowly spiraling into Sagittarius A. Due to the spatial and chronal distortions caused by the anomaly, it would likely feel like it was taking forever for Lavnabren to die in the Void she worshipped. The will of the Void was the will of Lavnabren, and although from the outside it appeared that the Void wanted her suffering to end quickly, on board it would be eternal.
Then the station crumpled, and was drawn within, out of sight, and out of time.
42.
Three weeks later.
“I had the occasion to meet with Captain Fâalta Vren several times before the Battle of Sagittarius.” Kelly began slowly. “He was a man of honor, a hero to the Xaodi people, a terror to his enemies, and a friend of Humankind.”
He spoke before the newly established Xaodi Embassy in Vienna, less than a mile away from the Global Council chambers. On his left stood Admiral St. George in his dress uniform, a black armband bearing Vren’s family crest cinched around his bicep. On his right, Athlé wore a brightly colored gown, the Xaodi tradition being to wear light colors to celebrate a life lived well. However, she had also donned an armband, saying she respected Earth’s traditions enough to join the admiral and himself. Cameras circled the plaza, broadcasting the ceremony worldwide. Others recorded it for broadcast back to Xaod. Delegates from every species in the Alliance were gathered solemnly.
“He died heroically, using his last moments to buy time for our soldiers to bring an end to the Vandleifdulus threat. We honor him today, for his heroism and his sacrifice, but most of all, his friendship.” Kelly nodded at a nearby hooded display, the cloth being drawn from it to reveal a ten for statue of polished quartz, cut in Vren’s likeness. “This statue, cut from Xaodi quartz, has a twin on Xaod. Captain Vren died to save both our worlds, and so Earth and Xaod will forever honor his sacrifice by remaining allies until the end of time. Let no quarrel be too grand for us, for we shall remain united in common purpose forever more.”
“Attention!” St George called, saluting the memorial, all soldiers under Earth’s banner following suit. Xaodi soldiers did their best to replicate the unfamiliar gesture as a twenty-one gun salute broke out. Kelly stepped aside for Athlé to take the podium, and once the gunfire stopped, she began to sing what she told Kelly was a song of mourning. Her voice was still scratchy, with a mild rasp, but it was clear enough that the Xaodi were able to easily join in.
Similar ceremonies had been held for Gieron, Relex, Yoth-y’n, Parv’irer, and even Opkohc heroes at their own embassies. The Opkohc had formally requested to settle Mars as a new home, which Kelly had granted to great acclaim. The fact that their settlement had indeed been nicknamed “Kirbytown” was a source of great embarrassment to the captain. He stood just behind the admiral, awkwardly saluting with a new prosthetic arm after an explosion on board the Vigilant had cost him his natural one.
By all accounts, the Vandle were gone. Most had flown to Sagittarius to
join Lavnabren, but others had been spotted simply crashing their vessels into stars. It was over.
Of course, there was one group conspicuous in their absence. Kelly knew that Jennifer was nearby, remaining out of sight. But there had been not a peep from the other Alphites. Whether or not that was suspicious was a problem for another day. Today was for celebrating.
---
“Commander Yurikuma?” Chris had loosened the collar of his uniform at the reception the Xaodi Embassy now hosted following the ceremony, addressing his newly-promoted adjutant.
“Sir.” She saluted smartly.
“At ease, Jemma.” Chris smiled. “I was wondering if you would like to join me on the dance floor.”
She blushed. “Is that appropriate?”
He grinned. “Should I make it an order?”
“I believe, sir, that would be a court martial offense.” She smirked.
“Yeah, but as admiral, I make the rules.” He offered her his arm, and laughing, she accepted.
---
“The offer of asylum still stands.” Athlé said to Jennifer as she prepped the Naz.
“I know, and I appreciate it. But…” She sighed, running a hand through the new, shorter haircut she’d adopted. “Someone needs to watch him. I could feel it when he was forced to retreat. He’s furious, and that’s when he’s most dangerous.”
“I understand. Just be sure to visit once in a while. According to the admiral, it had been more than a century since he last saw you. And I don’t live nearly that long.” She hugged the near-human woman.
---
Stragdoc sat alone in a chamber near the apex of the palace. He’d sealed himself in now for more than a week, seething with rage. Officially, he was working on a new project that required isolation. Unofficially, Callixta was terrified. She had never seen him this angry.
He cast his mind to the heavens above his adopted world. The Neuromancers were regrouping, Praxus again leading them, having now fully recovered from the trauma he’d suffered before Sagittarius. His...idealism...could be a problem further down the line.
Zulphais Vaathek weighed on his mind as well. Upon returning to Numenor, she’d resigned her commission, and promptly vanished. His newly promoted commodore’s disappearance furthered his embarrassment.
Things were sliding from his control. It was time to tighten his grip.
---
Chris felt content. Young was taking him into his confidence, he had a beautiful woman in his arms, and there was peace again. The galaxy had opened up for humanity, as evidenced by Doctor West guiding a recovered Lami through a simple waltz, Athlé entering the room again and being warmly greeted and escorted to the dance floor by Kelly, Captain Kirby being pursued by Fixit, offering to make the hero of the Opkohc a better arm. Even the sight of a Gieron and Relex chatting amiably warmed him.
Peace was good. Living was good.
It was tragic that not everyone in this galaxy could understand that.
Epilogue
-So. They have been tested.
-Our interference?
-From so long ago, they can not suspect.
-I am glad. This pleases us.
-Indeed. They will fight us, brother, I advise further subtlety.
-Agreed, sister. The High One will also agree. We must take care, for they are unified now.
-The near human shows promise, brother. An agent?
-Not yet, sister. Let his rage fester, let it seize control, let him become Salk’art in his spirit.
-And if it doesn’t?
-
-
-
-Then he will be crushed as well, sister. We are Salk’art. They are chattel.
-Of course, brother. Praise to the High One.
February 2018-September 2019
