by Aer-ki Jyr
Right now it was a standoff, with Star Force trying to ambush some of the new arrivals while the Avengers patrolled like sharks daring the Lurkers to come in on the fleet. If they did, and were killed, then the Star Force ships could go back to probing the net, but for the moment that had to be left to the drones that were continually trimming down the enemy fleet numbers…numbers which were likewise being bolstered by streams of reinforcements.
The Archons in charge hadn’t given up on holding this system yet, but if they did they’d all have to run out a jumpline that wasn’t blocked, and they had a lot of options given how good their jump drives were. But every line back towards friendly systems ran through the Web Wall, and bringing their fleet through that was going to be gruesome. Better to stick it out here for now and let the faster scout ships carry the warning and plea for help back while holding position.
Nellie was running weapon adjustments through simulations while keeping an eye on the system battlemap as engagements were happening on and off constantly. A beeping caught her attention, for it was another incoming ship signaling ahead, and she knew it was going to be more of her fellow Star Forcers dying in a soon to be collision.
She didn’t want to watch, but somehow felt it would be disrespectful not to…then the Hadarak fleet around the net buckled under a concussion wave. Nellie didn’t understand what she was looking at first, then the tracking sensors referenced the now distant ship that had just blown through the net and was braking hard far from the enemy fleet, having passed through it in the blink of an eye.
Nellie glanced at the battlemap, mentally zooming in on the new contact to see if it was intact enough that somebody could have survived…only to see that it was huge, perfect cube.
And it wasn’t damaged.
The tech’s eyes went wide as the mathematical calculations she reflexively ran didn’t add up. That much mass colliding with the net should have torn a chunk out of the ship at least.
Exactly what kind of shielding did the trailblazers have on that thing anyway?
The Star Force fleet formations immediately altered, being called into battle as the Borg vessel eventually reversed course and headed back out to the intact sections of the net with the enemy fleet moving to meet it…along with two Lurkers that streaked in from the side at high speed trying to strafe the massive vessel…only to end up eviscerated by what had to be some form of Essence weaponry that Nellie wasn’t qualified to know the details about.
Their severed hulks flew past in chunks as the huge Star Force ship plowed into the clouds of minions and Hadarak warships and took the brunt of the battle as the local system ships raced in to help clean up what it dropped…then it got to the net and began to rip it apart with lethal efficiency.
Nellie really wanted to serve on one of those ships, or even to just visit and have a look at what they were packing inside. The killpower it was displaying was truly nuts!
Hours later the net was gone and the Borg vessel, named the Snowstrike, which was painted an apt pure white, began pulling debris out of the jumplane for a fleet of warships to follow on the next day. They made it into the system as normal, then the Snowstrike began going after the other Hadarak fleets and growths in the system as they worked to return it fully to Star Force control.
Nellie kept up with what was happening until one of the harvester ships got to the remains of the net and cut off a piece to bring back to her cityship for study…at which point she tuned everything else out and started probing the molecular makeup of it to see which weapons worked the best in destroying it.
For she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the only time they encountered them. And if they started going up everywhere in the Web Wall, it was going to slow things down greatly unless she could figure out an easier way of destroying them before the Mastertechs could get a look at it and send something back…which would take a few years at minimum.
Oni was mad. Boiling mad, because this was largely her fault. She could have brought with her the mobile comm ships, big and bulky as they were. She could have waited a few years until more were built, but she’d wanted to hit the Web Wall as soon as the others did. A coordinated strike so the Hadarak couldn’t send all their reinforcements to one location. She had Ghostblade here to build interstellar communications equipment on site, meaning all she had to do was take and hold these systems long enough to get a proper comm network up and running.
And because of that choice, 38,291 people were dead.
All due to a new type of Hadarak that wasn’t in the Neofan database, and wasn’t in the Maty records. Either it was brand new, or they’d both missed it somehow. Either way the dead were dead and not coming back, and her gamble of coming a few years ahead of time…or pulling units away from elsewhere…had failed.
But there was work to be done, and there was no way to get the mobile units here. So Oni was going to have to hold these systems without a comm network and rely on couriers only. And she only had one ship large enough, and powerful enough, to break through one of those fully deployed nets…except were they fully deployed? If given a few more years to grow, would they become so massive even a Borg vessel couldn’t get through?
Possible, but the distance they were putting them at out from the star pretty much eliminated the use of the jumpline for the Hadarak. Their Wardens certainly couldn’t jump from the other side of it. Their Mainline warships maybe, at a creep of a creep. Oni’s ships could, if they wanted to go the slow route, and that’s what she was going to have to do for the cargo ships if a courier hadn’t signaled the all clear within a few days’ time.
She could work this, but her failure burned her into a seething rage that was not likely to go away any time soon. Oni had to be better than the Hadarak…much, much better…to turn the type of numbers required to win this war. And right now she’d just been made a fool of. She hoped the others creating breach points through the Web Wall hadn’t been caught off guard like this. If they had, they’d adjust like she was…unless they rammed it themselves without the Essence enhancement she had added.
The thought of losing one of them kicked her hard in the stomach, but her analytical mind found that to be very unlikely. And all of this was due to the fog of war without a damn comm network up and running so one system could talk to another!
But Oni wouldn’t dwell on the past any more than necessary to prepare for the future. She had a discovery on her hands, two actually if you count this new weapon. The other was the Megaloids wanting out, with the insistence that all they needed was to get through the Web Wall. The rest of the Hadarak systems were not an issue for them, and that could be a good thing or a bad thing. If she let them through, what would they do? Would they go chew out their own little piece of territory, or would they end up being an enemy Star Force would have to deal with later?
And did this new net weapon have anything to do with keeping them in?
Oni frowned. Megaloids were solid, starships were not. They had a lot of internal air space, so when they collided with something they bent, broke, and flew apart. A solid mass would behave differently…
Oni ran calculations for the Uriti against what was known of the net weapon, then ran Hadarak Wardens through. Both indicated that they could pass up until the strands got to a certain thickness, at which point the Yeg’gor would crack and the strands would act as a guillotine wire cutting through them…in theory.
The Megaloids the scouts had contacted did not have Yeg’gor. Their bodies were hard, as most spacefaring races were, but these net weapons would be much more effective against them.
But the first net had gone up on the wrong side of the chain of systems. It wasn’t to keep the Megaloids from getting through, but to keep Star Force from coming in and plug the hole in their Web Wall.
A response for them making contact with the Megaloids?
What was so damn important that they had to keep them bottled up in the Deep Core for? That didn’t make sense. There had to be some other factor i
n play she wasn’t seeing.
Why keep the big guys you couldn’t kill confined to the biggest gravity wells that you desired the most?
But therein was the problem. The Hadarak didn’t control the Hadarak. The Others did. Why did they want them bottled up?
Maybe they were more active in this galaxy than anyone had questioned. How had they been here when the Maty was discovered? And what had they been doing before that…
7
July 19, 154972
Itaru System (Novunu Region)
Wendigama
“This is enough to begin,” No’ru said, bending his Oso’lon neck down halfway to the floor to address Director Davis. “We can update the genetic profile over time as needed the same way we do the Zen’zat.”
“Wilson?”
The Human nodded. “I concur. We’re not finished, but the lower end genetics have been well documented and the training should be easy.”
“Hamob?”
“I think it best to field test this new variant in the primitive mode before attempting to craft the higher levels. Additional monitoring of the Furyans should provide information to that end that we do not currently have.”
“Vortison?”
“We could do a great deal more than we’ve done, but the risks increase as we continue to extrapolate. Two genetic forms should be more than enough for 50 years, correct?” the Mastertech asked, looking at Wilson.
“Probably. But with all the gene splicing I’m not sure how many traits are going to be present. If we wanted normal people to start with we would have used Human genetics. If we wanted them even more docile we would have gone with Ter’nat. Furyan is obviously too high end to train, unless you are Furyan. We’re going to have to work on that Battlemeld knockoff later, but it shouldn’t pop up in the genetic profile we’ve assembled here. My point is, with all the little bits and pieces we’ve woven in, they might train faster than expected. I’d recommend we put a block on the ascension trigger for now, and just let it sit if activated for a while. We can undo the block later with this first class. We need baselines first, and I can’t do that without having them to work with.”
Davis nodded. “I think we’ve exhausted all options on the base form short of trying it out. I just don’t want to get caught flat footed later with it requiring a lab to make the ascensions occur. You obviously didn’t. Why?”
No’ru sighed. “We had a long argument over that when we created the Zen’zat. It was decided that the first upgrade should be in a controlled environment rather than encoding the Ter’nat to upgrade on their own. There was a desire to remain in full control, and the idea of a rebellion gaining access to the higher genetics was too problematic. But after their selection, the Zen’zat needed to discover what was inside them. This discovery was part of their training, as well as a test. They did not find many of the psionics, but the ones they did were coveted prizes. Had it been a medical procedure it would have involved selections and unnecessary travel, else we allow the basic technology to be widespread in the empire. This was not wanted. So for many reasons we developed the ascension programming. As you discovered, the unauthorized breeding created some…glitches in the process. Potentially fatal ones. Since we are working with a hybridized genome, it would be wise to keep all ascensions in a controlled environment during the early history of this new race for safety reasons.”
“What did you mean by ‘flat footed?’” Hamob asked.
“I’ve lived through the destruction of my empire before, and I know it could happen again. If there is a doomsday scenario, we need any survivors to be able to ascend to the higher forms on their own, in whatever post-empire situation they find themselves in.”
“Then that’s why you requested the genetic memory.”
Davis nodded. “It is. And I don’t want it locked away requiring a med bay that doesn’t exist anymore to activate it. I’m going to defend this galaxy against all invasions, but we have to put in safeguards in case we get overwhelmed…again,” he said, looking at the two V’kit’no’sat who had been on the other side at the time. “Star Force can’t be allowed to be deleted. If we encode the basic tenets into this new race, as long as it survives, there will be a blueprint to rebuild it from.”
“If you wish a blueprint,” No’ru asked, “then I suggest we include technical data in different bloodlines that, when combined, will provide far more data than one person’s mind alone could hold.”
“I hadn’t thought of different bloodlines. I’d assumed we were going to use the same template for them all?”
“Visually, perhaps, but we can include coding that is different and will preserve itself through interbreeding. Such as the technical specifications of Tu’gor armor, or a Tar’vem’jic.”
“Or training programs,” Wilson added. “How much brain capacity would that require?”
“A tiny amount if we create dedicated tissue for it. It wouldn’t even have to be in the brain,” No’ru said, drawing on his experience in helping to create the psionics for the Zen’zat long, long ago.
“Legacy nodules,” Hamob said, coining the term.
“I like that,” Davis said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We can also add coordinates to dead drops of technology.”
Wilson frowned. “You’re sounding like you expect this galaxy to fall.”
“The writing on the wall says it will,” Davis admitted. “I want this backup plan in place before we face that situation. Then we can fight it with our full focus rather than worrying about evacuating some of us to start over again elsewhere.”
“Sean…”
Davis waved a dismissive hand. “Worst case scenario, I know. I’m thinking well past the Hadarak war, assuming we win it, but the foundations need to be laid now.”
“You’re talking about a total defeat, and this new race surviving in the wild until Star Force is long forgotten and the Hadarak or whoever controls this galaxy goes back to normal stewardship?”
“I want that option. Which means nobody can know about this.”
“Most likely this race would be hunted to extinction regardless,” Hamob noted.
“You missed some Zak’de’ron when you tried,” Davis pointed out. “The galaxy is vast, and if even a few survive Star Force could be rebuilt.”
“And then suffer the same defeat again, only quickly because it will be recognized early.”
“Not all backup plans are for a foreseen eventuality. Many are for the scenarios you can’t imagine. I want this one encoded so it’s there. How much more time will that take?”
“I already have tissue designed for such a task,” No’ru admitted. “Adjusting to the layered genome will take a week at most. However, I will need the information to encode. It will be genetically locked, and therefore cannot be uploaded after conception. Unless you wish it to be?”
“Genetically locked is necessary. How much of a data limit?
“Irrelevant. Encode as much as you want and we divide by the amount of bloodlines necessary. The basic packet you wish each to have will be equivalent to the size of the tissue. If we need more, we grow more along the interior spine. That is the safest place outside the cranium.”
“What tier are we talking about?” Wilson asked. “Because if it’s 3 or higher we don’t have to worry about it now.”
Davis was silent for a moment. “Star Force isn’t something that can be built by ordinary people. It would require someone who has the skill to ascend, and that would also hide it further down the timeline if the doomsday scenario plays out. Let’s put it Tier 3. It can be added when the layered genetics are added, correct?”
“If it’s not supposed to operate in the first two Tiers, then yes,” No’ru confirmed. “If it is, and we impose locking restrictions, then it will be very difficult to alter on the first two layers. Zen’zat do not have to worry about this because they are forbidden from reproducing. To do so will gradually alter unlocked genetics to the point where you have operational failures. You could
breed away the ability to ascend if the genetics are not locked.”
“Wait,” Wilson said, looking up at the Oso’lon. “Are you saying they can’t pass on adaptational changes?”
“Correct. Such changes would take place in their body, as normal, but not in their reproductive tissues. Those would be a copy of the base code, preserved there since conception. Once we get the template where we want it, we dare not risk alterations.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is a trade-off for their stability. The other races in Star Force will still be able to adapt and progress…or descend if they engage in negative activity. But this new race will be locked, and each new birth will have the same starting genetics as their ancestors. As well as the same appearance, with only a male and female version being different…up until their first ascension, and that’s when randomized characteristics will generate, but only from a pre-determined list we select, and as requested, those will be tailored towards their skillset.”
“I didn’t realize we were blocking adaptation,” Wilson said, disgruntled. “I don’t like that one bit. We’re capping this race at their starting position.”
“So it cannot fall,” Davis clarified. “And with the donors we’ve used, what are the odds it can be improved upon by the general population.”
Wilson leaned his hands on the holotable before them. “You’ve got me there. But any outstanding individuals that pop up won’t be able to pass on their traits.”
“Not outside a lab,” No’ru interjected. “We can still augment it in future updates, if desired.”
“So it’s a backstop? We can create a higher version if we get the right donors to add, and the individuals can still advance themselves, they just can’t pass it on?”
“Correct.”
“Alright, I’m sold. I’m just thinking of how far some of our races have advanced over the generations and how capping that would be wrong. But that growth depends on Star Force being intact and offering the right training ground for the individuals to thrive in. If this is our doomsday plan, then locking the reproductive genetics makes sense.”
