The stage at the front of the auditorium had been converted until it was nearly unrecognizable. A large cylindrical container sat on one end, a series of cables and wires running from it before disappearing behind the thick curtains on either wing of the stage. A series of test tubes and small medical instruments lined tables that had been prepositioned along the back wall. On the far right of the stage, a surprisingly empty table stood, a lonely piece of furniture amongst the bustle of the rest of the stage.
Yen, Adam, and Penchant took their seats in the front of the auditorium, with a clear view of the displayed science experiment. Yen was honestly surprised from his trip through the halls of the Revolution. In remarkable time, less than a week, the shipyard had repaired the majority of damage the Cruiser had sustained during the war. Though there were still entire hallways marked as off limits to non-essential personnel, the ship no longer appeared in distress as it had when it first made dock at the space station.
Looking over his shoulder, Yen watched the lines of recalled Fleet personnel filter into the auditorium, but he didn’t spot Keryn among them. Other familiar faces caught his eye as they entered, both previous friends from the Revolution and some newcomers, Iana included. As the crowd began to thin, the last of the people entering the auditorium and finding their seats, Yen began wondering if Keryn would arrive for this meeting at all. When he had just about given up hope of seeing her, he was stunned to see a ghostly figure enter the room. The Uligart male frowned at the gathered crowd as he searched for a seat. Turning back around, Yen slumped heavily into his seat.
“What’s gotten into you?” Adam asked from beside him.
Yen nodded toward the back of the room. “It’s Buren,” he said, still surprised.
Adam turned quickly to look and Yen could hear the Pilgrim’s breath get caught in his throat. “I thought he got out of the service.”
Yen turned around as well, looking again at the stern-looking Uligart. “I did too. Hell, we all almost did after Purseus II. You think it’s just a coincidence he’s on board?”
“Not in a million years,” Adam replied. “Though I don’t like the idea of the three of us being back together.”
Yen felt the bad blood shared between them and the Uligart standing at the doorway to the auditorium. Buren, Adam, and Yen had been the only survivors of the slaughter on Purseus II, the same battle during which Keryn’s brother had died. The three survivors had flown together for months in the cramped confines of the Cair Ilmun before being rescued. Buren had been in shock, barely speaking or interacting with the other two. When they were finally rescued, while Yen and Adam recounted their story to a multitude of ranking officials, Buren had been quietly whisked away. Diagnosed with a severe post-traumatic stress disorder, Buren was admitted to a hospital. He should have been kicked from the service, Yen thought sourly. Instead, Buren stood proudly in the back of the auditorium, in full military regalia. On the shoulders of his uniform shone the brass rank of Magistrate. Despite his medical condition and inpatient care at a hospital, he had been inexplicably promoted to the rank of an officer. It was too convenient to be a coincidence.
Their pondering was interrupted as Captain Hodge climbed the steps leading to the stage. A general hush fell over the crowd as she stepped gingerly over the multitude of wires that coated the stage’s floor. She walked to the center of the stage before turning to address the crowd.
“I’m sorry to have pulled you all from your shore leave. Rest assured, I wouldn’t have done so if I didn’t have a very good reason. By now you’ve all heard the message from the High Council. It’s been decided that the Alliance will go on the offensive against the Terran Empire. For those of you who were engaged in the last battle, you’ve surely asked the same question of yourself that I have many times: how much more aggressive than the last battle do they expect us to be?”
A light laughter filled the room, though it was heavy with nervousness and sadness at the memory of the Fleet engagement.
“I joke, but the truth of the situation is staggering. Before this meeting began, I received a classified communication from the High Council, laying out their plan of attack against the Terran Empire. When they say that we are going on the offensive, they truly weren’t kidding.
“I’ll be honest with you all. The Revolution was the least damaged Cruiser in the Fleet following the last battle, and we are still a few weeks away from completing repairs. Other ships have received just enough repairs to remain space worthy. But our time is short; so short, in fact, that we don’t have time to wait for the rest of the repairs before we begin flying toward our target. The remaining repairs will be conducted in midflight.”
Captain Hodge tapped a series of buttons on the console imbedded in the podium. The lights in the auditorium dimmed and a holographic representation of Empire-occupied space appeared.
“Earlier this week, we received information that a massive Terran Fleet had left orbit around the Empire’s home world of Earth.” Small red dots appeared in the hologram, showing the large Fleet heading toward the Demilitarized Zone. “Based off our most recent battle, it is safe to assume that the Terran Fleet is heading toward Alliance space with the intent of conducting a full-fledged assault on our strongholds along this side of the Demilitarized Zone. From their angle of advance, the border stations near the Indara Nebula will be the first to fall. If not stopped, the Fleet will continue its advance until it reaches more inhabited planets.”
The Captain’s voice dropped, though it still carried through the room. “I don’t think I need to remind you of what happened during the Great War. If the Empire still has access to any Planet Killer weapons, then everyone we know could be in danger.”
“So we’re going to face the full Terran Fleet?” Yen asked loudly, his voice cutting through the silence in the room. “With a third of our ships damaged, we’re going to face a Fleet that has numerical advantage?”
Captain Hodge smiled. “No, Magistrate Xiao. We are not going to attack the Fleet. The first thing I told you was that the Terran Fleet had left orbit around Earth. They left their home world defenseless. We’re taking the war to Earth!”
Stunned chatter erupted throughout the room. Penchant and Adam both leaned in and the three talked amongst themselves, echoing the sentiments of those seated around them.
“This is suicide,” Penchant growled. “The defense grid around Earth would decimate the Fleet as soon as we got in range.”
“Something tells me that the Terrans would be ready for something like this,” Adam added. “They wouldn’t just leave Earth defenseless.”
Yen sat in silence, trying to block out everyone’s panicked conversations. There was something they were all missing, and Yen was patient enough to wait to find out what it was.
“Silence!” Captain Hodge yelled, her voice cutting through the conversations. As everyone turned back toward her, they found the Avalon glowering at them, her face flushed with anger. “Do you honestly think that the High Council doesn’t know about the Terran defenses around Earth? Do you truly believe that they would knowingly send us all to our deaths without any sort of defenses of our own? Don’t be fools!”
Taking a deep breath, Captain Hodge continued. “You’ve all heard the rumors of Earth’s defenses.” Pushing a control on the console, the holographic image changed to that of a blue-green planet. Around it, floating in a synchronous orbit, small metallic satellites could be seen. Their orbits ensured complete coverage above the atmosphere of Earth. “The fact is, they’re true. The Terrans do have a satellite system in place capable of annihilating our Alliance Cruisers. But there’s a plan to get around their defenses. To explain it further, I’d like to introduce Doctor Birand, a representative of the High Council.”
A rail-thin Uligart took the stage, looking fragile in his oversized laboratory coat. A general hush fell over the audience as they watched the nervous man run a hand through his thinning hair and push his glasses up further on his face. Yen frowned. Surrounded by what Yen had to assume was his own technology, there was still something that seemed to keep the scientist on edge. He had learned long ago that when a man seemed nervous about his own plan, it was usually doomed to failure. Gingerly, not wanting to alert anyone to what he was doing, Yen began to probe the scientist’s thoughts.
“Thank you, Captain, for allowing me to be here,” Dr. Birand said softly, with a faint stutter. He glanced up at the holographic portrayal of Earth, hovering above his head. Smiling, he began pacing the stage as he talked, as though the movement helped him gather his thoughts. His speech came slower as he methodically selected his words for greatest effect. “You can all see the image hovering above the stage. Ever since the Great War, Earth has spent a small fortune building one of the most elaborate satellite systems in history, a system so complex that no ship stands a chance of passing through without being summarily destroyed. The access code changes every twenty-four hours with the new codes being shuttled to inbound crews only when they enter the solar system, and that only happens after a whole litany of authorization codes have been verified by Earth’s central command. Even if we tried, we would stand no chance of gathering all those access codes from any of the captured Terran crews.”
Yen saw the flicker of faint images, peeled unwillingly from the mind of the scientist. Broad golden lasers, the result of harnessed solar energy, fired from satellites surrounding a blue and green planet. His heart beat faster. To wield such power would make a man unstoppable.
The Uligart stopped pacing and faced the crowd, a look of confusion temporarily cast upon his face before he continued. “So what options do we have?”
“Don’t attack Earth at all,” someone yelled from the back of audience. Nervous laughter sputtered through the crowd, though Yen was pretty sure the man wasn’t joking.
Dr. Birand smiled softly. “No, unfortunately we will be attacking Earth. It does, however, still leave us with the problem of Earth’s defenses. For the past few years, I have been heading a secret research project that would be invaluable in just such a situation. The results of those years of research are sitting on this very stage with me.”
Yen’s eyes fell back to the pedestal, covered with electronic wires as though wrapped in a cocoon. A disturbing series of images flashed in quick procession through Yen’s mind. Flayed skin and exposed organs quickly overlapped with disgorged eyeballs and animals with missing limbs. Yen jerked his eyes back to Dr. Birand, but the Uligart’s expression revealed nothing of the troubling thoughts flowing through his mind. Walking calmly across the stage, the doctor picked up a glass cylinder and carried it to the pedestal. Setting it down, he left his hand on top of the object as he addressed the audience.
“What we developed during the past few years will mark a change in the way the Alliance will travel through space. But for now, until it can be produced and implemented throughout the Alliance, it has been more locally installed for your use. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you warp technology!”
Yen narrowed his eyes as he watched the nervous man. Warp technology was a myth, something that had been speculated amongst the scientific elite for generations. The concept of moving at instantaneous travel between two points was a fairy tale, as far as Yen was concerned. Even the scientific community was unconvinced that using such technology wouldn’t destabilize the region in which it was used, resulting in a black hole rather than passable portal. It was obvious that others shared Yen’s mentality. There hadn’t been the gasp of surprise that the doctor had obviously been expecting. The skepticism he now faced obviously made him even more nervous as Yen could see large droplets of sweat forming on his ridged brow.
Eager to move the presentation forward and see what proof he brought, Yen spoke up. “How does it work, doctor?”
Dr. Birand turned quickly to the new voice. He held up two fingers, which he drew together as he spoke. “Ah, well, it’s a little complicated. The basic principle is that we found a way to fold space, so that point A and point B, which are normally millions of miles apart, are touching one another. The physics behind it are simple, so long as you understand…”
The doctor’s mind had gone blank as the air around Yen wavered faintly. He tried his best to contain the shimmering, so as not to give himself away. He pushed the doctor forward, reveling in the twisting of a weak-willed mind. The doctor had no mental defenses against Yen’s intrusion, so Yen began dropping psychic suggestions. The technical aspects of the technology bored Yen. If he were to be impressed, Yen demanded a demonstration. It was that thought that he psychically implanted in the doctor’s mind.
“You know what?” Dr. Birand said slowly. “I’m sure the technical aspects of this are boring. I think this would just be easier if I demonstrated it for you.”
Moving to the rear table, Birand picked up a handheld console and began typing feverishly. Around the pedestal, the wires began to glow as electricity coursed through them, powering an unseen engine within the center of the cocoon of wiring. The noise built until it filled the room and drowned out the muttering of the still skeptical audience members. From the side of the pedestal, a small two-prong fork emerged from the wires. Between its metal prongs, red electricity arced wildly, rolling from the base of the fork to its tips before sputtering out into the air above. Yen could feel the hairs on his neck stand on end as the entire room seemed charged both with tension and with an unknown energy. He leaned forward, mocking the moves of Adam and Penchant beside him. The entire room seemed to be leaning forward in anticipation, suddenly sharing the doctor’s enthusiasm.
Don’t screw up, not this time. The alien thought leapt to the forefront of the doctor’s mind, stated over and over in a confident mantra that belied the doctor’s seemingly innocuous personality. Something about the project scared the man to death and Yen was suddenly very worried about the outcome of this experiment.
Before Yen had time to probe further, a crack split the air. A shockwave fell over the crowd, throwing them back into their seats. Wind whipped Yen’s hair into his face and, as he brushed it aside, his eyes fell on the center of the stage. Hovering above the split fork, a red whirlpool had formed. Its tapered end disappeared only a few inches beyond the event horizon and pointed toward the empty table across the stage. Just over the rushing roar of air being pulled into the wormhole, Yen could make out the doctor’s gleeful laughter.
Stepping forward, the doctor stood behind the pedestal, just a few feet away from the angry, red wormhole. It flickered as though alive and aware of the scientist’s presence. Yen could see the air pulling at the doctor’s laboratory coat, drawing it closer to the event horizon. The doctor didn’t seem to notice as he reached out and nudged the glass cylinder toward the glowing red disk, hovering in the air. As the cylinder drew near, Yen could see the forces pulling it into the wormhole. It teetered momentarily, as though unsure whether or not to enter, before the suction of the event horizon pulled the cylinder inward.
From Yen’s point of view, he couldn’t see the object as it entered the wormhole, nor as it was stretched into the finite funnel. He strained to see anything in the air that might betray the destruction of the object or its obliteration in the heart of the wormhole, but he could see nothing. A commotion drew Yen’s attention away from the hovering wormhole. Adam pointed across Yen’s body, toward the previously empty table on the far side of the stage. Following his gaze, Yen saw the completely intact cylinder resting unassumingly on the table, as though it had been there all along.
A hush fell over the crowd as they watched Dr. Birand reach over and throw a switch, effectively shutting off the power to the wormhole. The red circle shimmered unstably before dissipating into the air. Yen looked back and forth from the cylinder to the cocoon of wiring around the pedestal.
“And this technology,” Yen said, sitting upright in his chair. “It will safely get us past the satellite grid around Earth? We’ll be able to warp a Cruiser right past their satellites and into their atmosphere?”
“Not quite,” Birand stammered. “The technology hasn’t been perfected for moving so great a mass as a Cruiser. However, while repairs were being made on the Revolution, many of your Cair and Duun ships were outfitted with the new warp engines. You’ll be able to fly the smaller transports safely past the Terran defenses.”
Yen frowned, not convinced. He kept remembering the distorted images that had flashed through the doctor’s mind just before activating the warp engine. Yen was sure that he and the doctor had differing definitions of the word “safely”.