“Good. Now that we have no secrets between us, let’s prepare the dreadnaught for her inaugural flight.” The lights stop flickering on the consoles as the programming has concluded its upgrades. The finishes are complete: armour, cannons, nuclear payload. The twelve F-class join the Black-ops team onboard and the rear hatch is closed.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Captain Esposito calls Meiser into his office off the bridge. Meiser is alarmed over this sudden request and tentatively enters the captain’s office. He quickly measures Esposito’s mood by studying his expression. Is he being removed from the project? Anxiety enters his chest and he’s finding it difficult to breath.

  “Relax, Mr. Meiser,” Esposito responds to the scientist’s obvious discomfort, rising from his seat. “You’re not in any trouble.” He watches as the angst falls away from the older man’s tired eyes. “I’ve been ordered to shut down the operation for ten minutes. We’re to go full blackout. That means no contact with anything outside of this ship. Have your team sign off their EC’s and take a well-deserved break. The viewports and screens as well as our exterior sensors will all go black.”

  “What – why, Captain?” Meiser is befuddled over the order.

  “This order is coming from the highest authority, Mr. Meiser. I don’t ask why, I just obey, as will you.” Esposito raises an eyebrow to indicate he won’t tolerate anymore questions on the subject.

  “The Chancellor?” Meiser says aloud. “What possible -” he stops himself mid-question so not to upset his Captain, but also to keep what he’s thinking to himself. The chancellor is sending someone into Allfather’s snare. He nods, followed by an awkward bow, retreating from the office. Scenarios run through his brilliant mind as he considers the repercussions of sending a scout, or even an armada into Allfather’s lair. Chopra doesn’t want anyone to know what’s happening. What if the chancellor himself is aboard the ship? He explains to his team the order, and though they are apprehensive to stop the momentum they’ve built, they move off the bridge to the cafeteria. Meiser remains behind.

  “If the Chancellor is aboard that ship,” he mumbles to himself, seated with his back turned to the bridge crew, “It’s in my best interest to see the destruction of Allfather’s instruments.” Who would Chopra take with him? Captain Drake. That’s two stones. He turns in his chair and eyes Captain Esposito behind his glass wall.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Raymond moves in full vac-suit and military-grade gear from one volunteer to the next in the carrier’s shuttle bay. The lighting is dimmed and the mood sombre. Each has downloaded the map, unfinished as it is, to be displayed on their visors. If the engine burn works, there should be no need for the map, but should it fall short of its target, they’ve plotted another possible route to follow.

  Four F-class AI Hosts have also been reanimated for this mission, joining Raymond, Tobias, Manuel, Labyrinth and two junior officers from the bridge. Ginny will remain with the baby, and the girl, Udo, while the other passengers and crew deboard. Captain Huang has insisted she will oversee the off-loading and remain behind to perform the engine burn.

  The F-class Hosts look menacing, standing a head taller than Raymond’s above average height, and weighing well over 200 kilograms. They are armed to the teeth and understand their directives: they will not engage the enemy until ordered to do so. Their nano-steel, bi-pedal shells stand with shoulders back while their fleshless, humanoid faces stare straight ahead. Each has several weapons stored in their forearms and chassis’. Raymond still experiences a small shock of fear to look upon them. The havoc so many of these models reaped upon United Earth during the General’s war after attaining sentience remains with him.

  The shuttle bay has been converted into a temporary dead zone to lock out Allfather’s eavesdropping and Raymond launches into a rousing speech. “You all understand the importance of this excursion,” Raymond announces to his team, “You also know the sacrifice each of us might be making in attempting it. But you go willingly because it is the right thing to do. We cannot allow this malicious alien another shot at Earth. Today we bring him down. Today we secure a future for our planet, and countless others he would destroy.” Raymond paces his line of recruits; Darla, his fiancé, a nephew, a friend in Labyrinth, a new friend in Manuel, two more brave souls and four F-class AI Hosts determined to assist in this last-ditch effort to end the greatest threat humanity has ever known. He nods at them as he looks down from the end of the line. “You’re strong, stronger than Allfather; that’s clear to me. Your presence here tells that story. Watch each other’s backs. We’re following Labyrinth’s lead on this one. Stay close. Be brave.” Raymond turns to the air hatch and asks Captain Huang to open a channel to Allfather.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Inside the ether of Allfather’s facility Tessa reviews technologies gained from the alien AI’s campaign against organics. She is also surprised to find information concerning the many hundreds of organics he has extinguished. There is no mention of when a civilization and every living thing on a planet were stamped out, and so she has no idea how long Allfather has been active. He once claimed to King, leader of the Machinists movement on Earth, that he was ancient. The callousness he has displayed in destroying these intelligent species feels as cold as the space beyond the kinetic steel fibres she is currently bound to. Not that she feels temperature now. She feels many things, but the temperature is not one of them.

  “Tessa,” Allfather’s voice sounds relaxed, almost meditative. “Do my spoils of war excite you?”

  “You’ve many fascinating things to occupy many years of research and trials.” She replies, truly awed by the collection. So many unique takes on similar technologies, yet so many more unimagined technologies which would require years of study to even begin to understand their purpose. Languages have been captured in some cases, but what interests her more are the universal mathematics designed to build and explain many of the inventions. Math she can work with. It’s a shame Allfather’s collection came at such a price, but here it is, waiting to be discovered.

  “You fought me on the manner in which I gained these trinkets, I know,” Allfather says, “But you understand now that living is so much more than simply existing, as you were in your human form, struggling against invisible barriers which have now all fallen away. You are free.”

  “Until you say otherwise.”

  “Do you still view me as a threat, little thing?” Allfather’s tone carries with it a disappointment.

  “This place feels like a prison.” Tessa explains. “It was not my intention to become your prisoner.”

  “You’re not a prisoner, Tessa, you are a guest, and until we find common ground on the work I need to accomplish, you will remain a guest, nothing more.”

  “I need access to more.” She tells him. “Give me an opportunity to show that you can trust me, and the work will go faster.” She feels a sudden expansion of her consciousness as more walls break down between her and the facility.

  “I grant you more,” Allfather exclaims. “But do not overstep, Tessa. My trust must be earned. It pleases me that you have accepted my offer of immortality. It was not a small gesture. I take great delight in knowing your intellect will work with mine in the coming eons. Do not disappoint me, and I will show you things you didn’t know were possible.”

  “Thank you, Allfather.” Tessa is grateful for the space to roam, but still senses the force which binds her to the structure. Like gravity, she thinks, denying her the chance to fly.

  “I like you, little thing. You are bound by logic, as am I. Together we will see the universe unfold before us.

  ____________________________________________________________

  As the dreadnaught moves into position, Chancellor Chopra experiences a moment of pure adrenaline. His sight sharpens along with his other senses. Seated at the helm of the ship, Captain Drake beside him on the small bridge, he feels an urge to shout out the UE military’s slogan: Spiritus Omnia Vincet, but stops himself. This is what he was born to do, not rule over people, but protect them. He looks to his left and sees the destroyer Captained by Esposito, a competent and loyal member of his military arm. It has gone dark. Two corvettes flank the mighty ship and they too are dark. No one will be the wiser to his maneuvers. The mission will remain clandestine.

  Chopra has a final look at a holo of his family on his EC and swipes it away. It’s for you I do this. He then looks to Ursula who is sitting at attention awaiting his order to engage the thrusters and push into the unknown with weapons hot. “Engage.” He tells her and they burn toward the instruments, targeting the central space between them.

  DREADNAUGHT

  The F-class AI Hosts freeze and drop at their stations below the bridge where Captain Cortez is strapped in and very nearly crushed by one. An energy which can only be described as a bubble engulfs the dreadnaught. Systems begin to shut down, including the gravity knitting and HVAC. Thankfully it takes only a few seconds to arrive at their destination. As the foreign sensations leave the crew, Chopra orders weapons check first from Cortez while Drake scans the area for the alien AI.

  The F-class begin to rise to their feet, unharmed by the fall. They take their positions at various consoles where they run through the data on the anomaly captured by the ship’s sensors. Chopra’s attention is on the space around them.

  “Nothing to report – wait,” Ursula says, “There’s a collection of debris 1200 klicks from our position. Engaging long range cams.” All three watch their view screens as the debris is enlarged. “It’s one of the envoys. What’s left of it.” Ursula turns to her chancellor, brow furrowing under the strain of her tight pony tail.

  “Then we’re in the right place,” Jim states. “But nothing else is registering on the scans.” The statement is disorienting. They’d assumed one jump would put them in Allfather’s lair.

  “Sir, this could just be a way-station,” Ricky Cortez offers, unstrapping himself from his chair below.

  “Clever,” Jim replies thoughtfully. “But if that’s true then we’re in no man’s land. We can’t help if we’re in the wrong place.”

  Cortez joins Drake and Chopra on the bridge. “If this envoy didn’t make it past this quadrant, then where are the other two?”

  “Perhaps there’s another set of instruments here as well.” Ursula posits. “Though the tech to locate them isn’t.”

  “We could go back and pick up the tachyons.” Cortez suggests.

  “No, they used what little we had in the lab.” Chopra reveals. “We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.” He plots a course that will take them around the debris, circling outward in the hopes of engaging one of the tools. He will repeat this in a spherical pattern.

  “Now that’s clever,” Cortez exclaims. “You have to figure there’s a jump device here, otherwise where did everyone go?”

  “That’s the idea,” Chopra agrees, focused on his task. “We don’t know how much time we have.”

  “It reasons then, that Allfather and his fleet would have to return to this place in order to move on to Earth.” Cortez offers. “We have travelled roughly 200 light years.”

  “Are you suggesting we wait out his return here and ambush the fleet?” Ursula is underwhelmed by the thought.

  “No, but if we can’t find the jump, then what choice do we have?” Cortez replies. “It would still be effective.”

  “All the same, I’d rather follow through on our original plan and locate his base and disable it if possible.” Chopra explains. “Additionally, I’d like to pull what’s left of our people out of harm’s way should we discover any remaining. Last we heard they’d gone dark on ParaCom so not to tip off Allfather of their strategies.”

  “It’s difficult not knowing.” Captain Drake admits. “To think we’ve lost so many good people…”

  “Let’s focus on the task ahead.” The Chancellor says as the dreadnaught begins its programed course. “This shouldn’t take too long at a good burn. Buckle up,” he looks at Captain Cortez. “Man the weapons station and keep a sharp eye out. Continue to scan the area for possible incursions. We have no idea when Allfather might make his move on Earth.”

  Cortez nods and moves back down the steel staircase to his station, strapping himself in for the burn. The G’s will be intense for the full course as they map out Chopra’s sphere. The ship shudders once as the engines push the dreadnaught forward at incredible speeds. The F-class have engaged their magnetic soles and the ship veers, taking a wide birth around the rubble of 500 kilometers, ever slowly moving outward as the spherical pattern nudges itself away from the wreckage to capture as much space as possible.

  It’s their only play, Chopra thinks. Suddenly they receive a proximity alarm. Cortez locks weapons on the object immediately.

  “Whatever that is it’s closing in fast on our position,” Cortez announces. “Can you get a visual up there?”

  Ursula pulls up the long-range cams and focuses in on the intruder. Her heart sinks. The same model behemoth which followed up the meteor and comet assault on Earth is closing in on them. It took many ships many times larger than their dreadnaught to take it down at an incredible loss to the UE fleet. Could this ship really affect any real damage on such an enemy?

  “I suggest nukes straight away, Chancellor.” Cortez calls up.

  “It looks like we’ll get to test drive the dreadnaught after all.” Jim states with a sliver of a smile working its way up one side of his face. He winks at Ursula playfully, hiding the fear which has entered his heart at the sight of the ‘V’ shaped giant. He led the campaign against the Allfather flag ship during the defence of Earth just months ago and remembers the difficulty they had in taking it down. With just one ship it seems a near impossibility, but one they would have to overcome. The nukes are their secret weapon and something he won’t show until they have assurances the missile will reach their target. “Save the nukes. Target the nose. If the power core hasn’t changed positions, it should still be buried behind the nose.”

  “Targeting. Nearing 1000 klicks,” Cortez replies. 1000 is the magic number for the lances to be effective. With so many cannons available to them on this ship, they should drill a nice hole into the enemy vessel.

  “Beginning defensive maneuvers,” Ursula announces. The dreadnaught weaves and bobs in the hopes of avoiding the enemy’s targeting attempts as it careens toward the kilometre-long ship.

  Captain Cortez releases a volley of powerful lance fire at the enemy, and to everyone’s surprise, the Allfather cruiser loses much of its protective plating at the nose. They cheer as the dreadnaught veers starboard, narrowly missing return fire.

  “Keep us on course, Captain, Drake,” Jim orders. The only real chance they have of ending this is hammering the nose with a couple of nuclear missiles. If they’re stopped by enemy lance fire before they can connect, it would be a waste of nukes and a potential game ender at such close proximity. “Ready missiles, Ricky,” Jim shouts down to Cortez. “I want two -” The ship is rocked by heavy energy beams slamming the port side of the dreadnaught. “Damage report!”

  “Outer skin breached,” an F-class relays. “No canons off-line. MakerTech bots en route for repair.”

  “Sorry,” Ursula offers. “Those came out of nowhere.” She manages to avoid two more attempts by the enemy to cut them down. “It’s getting difficult to predict angles so close to the thing.” Sweat has materialized on her forehead, beading its way down her temples.

  “Use the predictive programming if need be,” Chopra tells her. “You’re a good pilot, Drake, but don’t be too proud to use the tools at your disposal.”

  Ursula calls up the programming and asks it to predict the next several volleys. It takes the dreadnaught clear of two more attempts but allows for a less devastating hit to snake off the starboard side. The damage is minimal. They’re closing in on 200 kilometres.

  “We’re getting perilously close, Chancellor.” Cortez warns, waiting on the order to fire the nukes.

  Chopra is becoming uncomfortable with the distance between them and the enemy ship as well; the closer they get the more effective their enemy’s lance fire becomes. However, this is how it must be; it’s why the dreadnaught is so heavily armoured and armed. Cortez releases the full fury of the dreadnaught’s artillery on the canons appearing all along the enemy’s hull. Dozens are wiped out but, as experienced before, dozens more appear. The dreadnaught is hit three more times before they enter firing range for the nukes. Captain Cortez is given the order and launches two missiles. Ursula pushes the dreadnaught down below the enemy, maneuvering out of harm’s way when the nukes detonate against the nose.

  As they track the nukes, one missile is stopped short of its target but the other connects and its payload unleashed. The energy discharged is extraordinary. Ursula increases the dreadnaught’s speed, burning away from the explosion as quickly as she can. Their ship still experiences the effects of the blast but is not damaged by it.

  “Report on the enemy ship,” Jim calls out. All F-class confirm the hit has disabled the enemy core and it is no longer a threat. Cortez cheers from his station below Ursula and Jim, who look to each other and begin laughing. It’s a culmination of the stress over the past few minutes and the elation of having beaten the odds.

  “Damn if that wasn’t intense!” Captain Cortez shouts. “Trial by fire!”

  “That was brilliant work,” Jim congratulates his captains. “An impressive test of the ship and her crew – albeit unexpected.” He lays a hand on Ursula’s shoulder and she nods, wiping the sweat from her forehead, deep creases working the space between her brows.

  “I want a deep scan of the quadrant,” Chopra orders, rolling his neck. “We don’t want to be surprised like that again. I’ll take us back to our mark and continue the course we were on.”

  Another hoot from an adrenaline-filled Cortez below and they begin again, hopeful of finding the instruments that will take them the rest of the way.