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Chapter 1: Brush with death

"Captain, the three remaining frigates have started shooting the Precursor Gate!"

Captain Garrick Dasbartin held back a curse as he switched the central screen to show the Precursor Gate. A squarish construction with a long continuation of circles in the middle looked more like a cannon than a gate appeared on the screen. The circles glowed with a pale orange light while they pulsed with a constant pattern.

Both the material it was made from, the construction, and the goal of the device were as alien as they could be. And poorly understood at that. However, nobody had to be a genius to see that what was happening now was not good.

Three triangular frigates wrapped in a pale green layer of energy that highlighted the detail of their hull rushed towards the Precursor Gate. Occasional lasers struck or brushed against them, causing the plasma shield to flare up brightly. Their forward batteries of medium-range, high-intensity lasers were drilling holes into different parts of the machine. One was targeting a massive cylinder that almost organically grew from one of the sides, causing a sudden tiny explosion. Immediately after, plumes of an orange gaseous substance shot out into the vacuum of space.

As Garrick rose from his seat in horror, a tiny part of him wondered if anything like this had ever happened across the galaxy. Probably not.

"Ignore their capital ship! All guns shoot down those crazy fools," Garrick roared, his skin cold and cold sweat beading on his head. "If we don't stop them-"

A pulse of orange energy rippled across the construction, expanding across space. A tremor ran through the ship, showing that whatever it had been had struck their shields with enough force to rattle the entire vessel. Alarms began blaring. Lights dimmed while the main screen started flickering, something Garrick had only seen during overloading simulations. Tiny warning indicators flashed across his personal H.U.D. as he saw the three frigates on the screen, their shields gone and their hulls charred, showing the superheated plasma had eaten through the hull before the magnetic barrier holding it there had failed. Their batteries had stopped firing, but from the rapid pulsing of the rings, the damage had already been done.

"Reports," Garrick barked, causing a host of personnel to call out to him.

Their reports were quickly added to a shortlist on his H.U.D.

"All frigate-class ships are dead in the water, sir!"

"A message from The Stag. Their Fusion Drive just shut down. They are running batteries, but those are almost drained."

"Lead engineer Macdewil just reported that Fusion Drives one and two are running above capacity, while three is failing!"

A calmer, mechanical voice added from all sides.

"My plasma-shield was damaged by the pulse, and my sensors report extremely high radiation coming from the Precursor Gate, Captain. I'm rerouting all available energy to the plasma-shield."

Garrick sat back down. Hearing his ship's A.I. voice almost calmed him down. Mostly because he knew that it was allowed to take over if it deemed him unable to fulfill his role. He hated the thing for the trust Brass gave it in favor of loyal soldiers like him while at the same loving its usefulness. That, and the fact that it was what they now called Adjacent Intelligence, apparently as close to a true A.I. as they could create within the confines of a ship.

"The Seretonin?" he asked.

"The Capital Ship Serotonin has suffered large amounts of damage. Our attacks had severely depleted their energy, and some sections of their plasma-shielding has been taken offline," the calm voice answered.

Meaning that we could take it out easily, Garrick thought. That should have made him feel better, but it didn't.

"The Serotonin is hailing!"

Garrick almost ordered his crew to fire at the other capital ship. Then he held his tongue.

"Get that bloody bastard on the screen!"

The central screen flickered a few times, and then a square image of another bridge appeared. A bald man dressed in dark military clothing that had a double triangle on the shoulder glared at him. Garrick knew him, as he knew all captains of the capital ships of every major spacefaring power. Captain Uru Catlau, also called the hammer, for his ridiculous, hard way of dealing with most situations. He was one of the most annoying captains of The Astra Concord.

"You fool!" Garrick snapped before the other captain could get a word out. "Why the hell did you order them to shoot the Gate?!"

The bald man's black eyes seemed to grow cold as ice.

"Because you emotionally-unstable-Igniz have enough worlds and resources. We are not giving you another," Captain Uru said in a calm, cold voice. "Here's the deal. You get the people you have living onboard that rustbucket, and then you leave. If not, I'm going to open fire on that stupid gate and to hell with us all!"

Garrick barely heard how a strange, rhythmic beeping joined the multitude of warnings, nor did he pay attention to the tiny warning icon that joined the myriad of others on his H.U.D.

Instead, he stared at the other captain in stunned stupidity. He'd known Uru wasn't normal, which is why they usually kept him on a short leash. The man's tactical brilliance was the only reason he was even alive to see it, though the rumors that he had become more and more crazed over the years seemed true.

"You would doom all your personnel, including those still in cold sleep, to die here?" he asked in disbelief.

Uru leaned forward, his face filling the screen. "I was told to stop you at any cost…"

The beeping Garrick had been hearing became louder, and he was saved from answering the man's ultimatum as someone spoke to him offscreen.

Uru's face fell, and the sounds from him were muted.

Garrick signaled the ensign to disable their microphones before turning to his XO, Saldine Hernandez. Her brown eyes were filled with worry.

"The Precursor Gate looks ready to explode. Even if we agreed, I don't think it will even function. It might send us to god knows where… Besides, how does he expect us to have another six thousand people aboard here? Even if we had the space, we wouldn't have the food."

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Garrick nodded as he began quickly weeding through the warnings, ignoring most as not being important right now. As he reached a new one, a small exclamation mark, he frowned. He'd never seen the warning symbol before, and he mentally clicked it. Lines of warnings spilled onto the small section of his H.U.D. designated for warning messages.

~> Energy reserves low—incoming radiation beyond the allowed maximum

~> AI Sibilis' analyses of the situation place ship loss at: Extremely high

~> Protocol' Final Safeguard' enabling in: 28, 27

Garrick blinked at the message, then looked at the icon again. He'd never seen it, nor the message. Besides, what protocol left someone with half a minute to act?

"Hernandez, what the hell is Protocol Final Safeguard?"

"No idea, sir, but I just got the same warning," his First Officer said, looking worried.

"Sibilis, what is Protocol Final Safeguard?"

"I don't know, Captain Dasbartin. After reporting the requested information to the system, I was merely informed of the same impending protocol."

Garrick took a deep breath. He hated the way Brass had hamstrung his abilities and information, but it had always been like this. Ever since he started as an ensign, he'd had to deal with partial information. Even now, as the captain of one of the most powerful ships around, he was left in the dark. If only they would let him communicate normally with The Sibilis and get all the information! How many battles had been lost by Bras's fear?

Well, fuck them then, he thought, trying to ignore the counter.

He stared at Uru, who was still on screen- but silent. He wasn't sent here with the same reasoning and knew that the Brass would prefer fleet Three back in one piece. The problem was the Precursor Gate.

Uru's lips began moving, and Garrick waved at the ensign to enable the audio.

"-warning."

Garrick ignored the final word. "I put you back on, but let me stop you there," he said. "If I am to leave, I want all my frigates back."

Uru blinked, then frowned. "You can have your crew. After destroying two-thirds of the ships I brought, I'll be keeping what you have left."

Garrick knew then and there that they weren't going to get out of there without a fight. If he left his ships here, not only his job but that of all the crew would be gone. Without the frigates, there would not be enough work for most of them, and making new ships took decades. If he fled with them, most would hate his guts for putting them back in whatever crowded, crime-riddled world they came from.

A beep came together with the tiny warning screen enlarging in Garrick's field of view.

~> Protocol' Final Safeguard' enabling in: 9, 8

Annoyed, he tried to dismiss it, but the system ignored him.

"What the hell is that," Garrick growled.

He had no idea which of the Igniz Braintrust thought up this protocol, but without information, it wasn't just a hindrance. It was a danger. What was he supposed to do about a countdown he didn't know the reason for?!

"Garrick, I'm running out of patience."

Garrick almost lost it. Only the long, harsh life he'd had held him back from opening fire on the much weaker capital ship. Would he be able to take it out before Uru destroyed the precursor gate? No. But had he been only ten years younger, he might not have cared.

Now, he pictured the close to two thousand crew spread across his fifteen remaining frigates, hustling to get their engines back on. If he fired now, without a good plan, who said Uru wouldn't fire on them in spite? Even if they were stranded here, they would have a chance!

The countdown reached one, and Garrick almost rolled his eyes. Then, all the lights on the bridge changed from their red warnings into a pale blue.

Sibilis's calm voice returned, but this time, the A.I. sounded very different.

"This is System-AI. Protocol' Final Safeguard' has been enabled. All crew, go to any free cryo chambers. If none are free, don full combat spacesuits immediately. You have thirty seconds and counting."

Garrick rose from his seat. Uru's face was still showing on the screen, and he looked as surprised as Garrick felt.

"What are you playing at, Garrick?"

Garrick didn't respond. Thirty seconds to get into full combat spacesuits? Even if you stood next to it, it'd take you minutes to get into one. What bullshit was this? Except for some essential personnel working in hazard zones or he and the bridge crew, nobody else wore those things. They were in their rooms, which were safe. And there were no free cryo chambers. Half his crew was in cold sleep, waiting for their shift.

Still, his training kicked in as he looked around the room at the twelve people currently on the bridge. They, like him, had all but their helmets already on.

"Helmets, now!" Garrick shouted, moving around his chair and grabbing the metal and sapphire squared-off dome.

"Garrick, if you don't react now, I'm opening fire!"

Garrick snapped on his helmet as the countdown reached twenty. Moving back to his seat, he stared at Uru.

"I don't know what's happening, but I'm not giving you my frigates," he snapped. "Hold your fire, and let's negotiate after I figure out what those bloody Brainiacs did to my ship."

Uru stared hard, then he suddenly turned to the side, his eyes widening. "That's impossible?!"

His face turned pale as he glared at Garrick.

"You are powering your weapons! Are you crazy?"

If the situation had been any different, Garrick might have laughed at how ridiculous Uru sounded. Instead, he felt himself go pale.

"Stop what that thing is doing," he ordered.

Hands flew across screens and panels, followed by surprised shouts.

"Captain, we are fully locked out of the systems!"

"System-AI! Stop powering the weapons! You are going to get everyone onboard killed!"

The countdown continued while a second identical voice calmly answered him.

"The value of The Sibilis is deemed higher than its crew. Also, only the sixteen hundred and eight four crewmembers currently not in cryosuspension or full gear will die. A course is being taken based on the current situation and the preset directive."

The calm, unemotional voice couldn't stop the threat from being clear to all who heard it.

"Shoot the Precursor Gate!"

Garrick looked at in Uru in shock. He was in the same situation! How could he fire..

His thoughts stopped as dozens of purple-laser beams slammed into the leaking part of the Precursor Gate, the image of which had still been onscreen. The lights that had been pulsing orange stopped pulsing and began burning bright as a massive explosion rippled away from the alien artifact.

The screen lights on the Sibilis's bridge turned off all at once while the countdown that had reached six stopped.

"Captain, what-"

The question was never finished as Garrick was slammed back into his captain's seat. A mechanical grinding came from the bottom and sides, and before he knew what happened, his seat had wrapped around him, closing him off from whatever was happening before that. He was pressed back against the seat, then the side, feeling like he was being flung about like a ragdoll.

He had no idea how long it lasted, but when it finally stopped, he was slumped in his chair, breathless.

"System-AI, what is going on," he croaked, slowly pushing himself up.

There was no response, and he licked his lips before trying some more things.

"Status report."

"Latch, open."

"Sibilis?"

His orders weren't answered, as the only thing audible in the deadly quiet was the sound of his own breathing. He looked around, but it was pitch black. Not even the H.U.D. from his X4 implant was showing- something he couldn't remember as he'd been two when it was installed.

With the final moment, and all lights and screens going off, he had an idea what had happened, though how his chair had worked? It must have triggered mechanically, some sort of final failsafe in his chair he'd never heard about.

Reaching out with his hands, they slammed into something almost instantly.

Whatever was happening, he was trapped.

"Shit…"

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