CHAPTER 47: JOHN
John
Dysons Sphere
Epsilon Eridini
The Marines had cleared the chamber before anyone had walked in, yet Major Thomson remained visibly agitated, protesting the room despite John’s insistence that it was safe. Inside, a few odd chambers—resembling pods—sat quietly, with one impressively large pod occupying the center. Surrounding the main pod were a pair of command stations, but what truly unsettled the Major were the several dozen Legion humanoid robots standing idly, guarding everything with an unnerving stillness. “Sir, I don’t like this. Those Legion fucks outnumber us three to one. I don’t think we can take them. Plus, we have no idea what a humanoid robot can do,” he argued, his voice strained with concern.
“I’ll take that under advisement, Major. I don’t believe they will be a problem. After all, they did bring us here,” John replied, trying to project calmness.
“No sir, you brought us here,” the Major shot back, his tone firm, yet tinged with an undercurrent of anxiety.
John could sense that the towering, eight-foot robotic death machines were making Major Thomson increasingly nervous. “They are the ones who sought me out and gave me the ability to bring us here. I can’t explain it, but I trust them,” he added, attempting to reassure his subordinate. The Major merely nodded, unsure how to respond to his commanding officer’s unyielding confidence. Whatever John might think, Thomson was not about to take any chances.
As they ventured deeper into the chamber, the atmosphere shifted. Lights began to flicker on all around them—walls, ceiling panels, and floor illumination sprang to life, even the consoles activated, revealing a veritable treasure trove of data. “Bloody hell, this is a gold mine!” Donovan exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the vast array of technology. “Sir, this is simply amazing. I can’t even begin to grasp the kind of information here. There’s so much more than what we found in the lab at Wolf, and the detail is mind-boggling. Just look at the sheer size of everything!” John glanced over at his engineer but never got a chance to interject. “Don’t you dare say it! I know I already had the same thought, but damn, John, there isn’t enough storage in the entire human domain to hold all this. They must have— I don’t know—there’s literally nothing we can produce to store it,” Donovan continued, his excitement palpable.
“Well, shit. Then we just plant our flag right here and invite the eggheads and the brass to settle in,” Cortez quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Damnit, Cortez. I hate it when I can’t cuss your dumb ass out,” Thomson retorted, exasperated.
“I thought it was a damn good idea,” Cortez shot back, unimpressed by the Major's irritation.
“Cortez has a point, sir. It’s a good idea. I think we should capture the structure. I can start sending squads from the WarpStar all over to clear out key areas,” Thomson suggested, his brow furrowed with determination.
“That won’t be necessary, Major.” John was staring intently at a chamber ahead, oblivious to the excitement of his team, who were still ogling the shiny computers, advanced equipment, and mechanical beasts roaming about.
“Aye, sir.” Thomson knew now was not the time to argue. The opportunity to discuss strategy could come later; with Earth under siege, finding a new forward operating base was not a concern worth debating.
“Don’t worry, Major. We already have the place. If everything goes right, we’re going to be here for a long time,” John reassured him, confidence returning to his tone.
“Hello there!” A soft, female voice whispered from behind the team, cutting through the tension like a knife.
“Holy shit, fuck!” Cortez yelped, startled, swinging his rifle up and aiming it directly at the unknown guest.
Thomson quickly followed suit, scanning the area behind her and around, assessing for any other potential threats. He knew Cortez had her covered, and despite his unprofessional spooky nature, he trusted his training. “Identify yourself, ma’am, and don’t come any closer!” he commanded, his voice steady but laced with authority.
“I know you,” John murmured, his gaze fixated on the newcomer. He felt an inexplicable connection with her, as if he recognized her from somewhere deep within his consciousness, though he had never seen her before in his life. It was as if she were a long-lost memory, a figure from a dream, a specter of familiarity that clawed at the edges of his mind. “How do I know you?” he asked, bewildered.
“Sir?” Thomson's voice was sharp, as he aimed his weapon at the intruder, ever cautious.
“I…” John struggled to find the words, his brain racing to make sense of the feelings swirling inside him.
“Cortez, perimeter sweep!” Johnson ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cortez complied immediately, shifting his focus from the intruder to the surrounding area, scanning for additional threats.
“There is no need to worry, Major Thomson. I am no threat,” the woman assured them, her voice soothing yet firm.
“Then identify yourself,” Thomson insisted, his eyes narrowing as he remained on guard.
The woman smiled, her gaze flickering to John, as if waiting for him to answer first.
“Memi?”
Her smile broadened, and she began to walk toward the team, her movements graceful and reassuring.
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“Sir, orders?” Thomson’s confusion was evident; she was a potential threat, an unknown player in this battlefield, yet his commanding officer seemed to have an unshakeable bond with her.
“Stand down, Major. There are no threats with us,” John commanded, his voice resolute.
“Aye, sir. Cortez, with me,” Thomson replied, a flicker of uncertainty still lingering in his voice.
“How do I know you? Why do I know you? How are you here? I watched you die! At least, I thought I watched you die. In my dreams, you sacrificed yourself to try to kill the Queen,” John exclaimed, his heart pounding as he grappled with the weight of his memories.
“You remember!” Memi's eyes widened with excitement, her expression a mixture of joy and urgency.
“Is that what it is? It was a dream I had one night, but I remember it like it happened to me, like it was yesterday,” he murmured, feeling the echoes of that dream reverberate within him.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news! This means that my work was not entirely a failure!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.
“What are you talking about, love? And who exactly are you?” Donovan interjected, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“We do not have much time to explain everything. I am a holographic artificial consciousness of a long-deceased scientist named Memi Xarfram,” she revealed, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
“That is not a name I’ve ever heard of,” Donovan replied, skepticism evident in his tone.
Memi smiled knowingly. “You wouldn’t have. But now we must get back on point. Your planet is about to be captured and turned into the galaxy's biggest slave world. Humanity is at risk of extinction. Your fleet has engaged the Alliance; however, there is no hope of survival. Even with your kinetic weapon advantage, the Alliance simply has far too many ships.”
“What about the Legion forces? You seem to have control over them. Sol is occupied by the same amount of Legion ships; have them intervene,” John pressed, desperation creeping into his voice.
“Unfortunately, we do not possess full control over the Legion. It is too much to explain, and even if we did have that ability, there are far too many ships in your system. If we start destroying everything, the debris will be so vast it will likely obliterate your planet anyway. No, we need to bring the fight here,” she explained, urgency lacing her words.
“And how do we do that?” John asked, his mind racing as he sought clarity amid the chaos.
Memi glanced toward the chamber that had captured John’s attention earlier—a small space just barely large enough for a human to stand in, filled with an intricate web of cables, wires, and tubes that hung and protruded ominously. “You know how. Deep down inside, you know. And I’m so, so sorry,” she said, her tone filled with empathy.
As John approached the unfamiliar yet eerily familiar chamber, he felt a mixture of caution and curiosity. A primal instinct deep within him screamed to turn back, to flee from the unknown that lay ahead, yet he knew he had to confront it. The chamber resembled a long-term medical treatment pod, reminiscent of the ones used for the most severe injuries and complex limb regenerations. As he stepped closer, half of the transparent pod opened with a soft hiss, revealing an inviting yet ominous path to the interior. Tubes and wires dangled loosely from the rear, and a harness poised to secure a human form in place created an unsettling sight that sent chills racing down his spine. Fear began to overwhelm him, a suffocating sensation coursing through his veins, threatening to completely take over his senses.
“I know what you’re thinking,” a voice whispered softly behind him, slicing through the tension like a scalpel.
“Memi, how could you possibly know that?” he replied, a mix of disbelief and intrigue lacing his words.
“For starters, I am an AI construct of the scientist who created me, this entire structure, and I was part of the development team for the device you’re currently wearing. I breached it and gained access to its systems; I literally can,” she explained.
“You did what?” John halted his advance, shock flooding his features as he processed her revelation. His mind raced with the implications of her words.
“Besides, we anticipated exactly what would happen when this chamber was constructed. It’s not hard to deduce what thoughts might cross your mind,” she added, her voice steady.
“And what’s that then?” John stared into the holographic projection, curiosity piquing as he awaited her answer.
“Char.”
His eyes drifted towards the grim plating beneath him, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he realized she had known precisely what was haunting his thoughts. Perhaps it was due to the device embedded in his skull, or perhaps it was merely intuition speaking. Charlene was indeed on his mind, as he grappled with the fate that awaited him. The impossible duo, against all odds, was poised to meet its inevitable end; the irony almost made John laugh bitterly. Of all the perilous situations they had faced together—scenarios that could have easily claimed the lives of the best pilots—they had consistently eluded death. Yet now, separated by circumstances beyond their control, it seemed fitting that the only way to sever their bond would be in solitude. “Will she survive?” he asked, the weight of the question pressing heavily on his heart. John didn’t know if this ancient AI, a product of a long-dead civilization, could truly predict the future or if she was merely simulating outcomes based on statistics, but he had to know.
“Yes, if you step into the pod. You know it’s the only way,” she replied softly, her tone imbued with an urgency that resonated deep within him.
John wrestled with doubt, uncertain if she spoke the truth, if she had calculated the probabilities, or if she simply told him what he needed to hear to take the plunge. Without uttering another word, he made his decision and stepped into the pod. Grasping the hand grips tightly, he steeled himself for the end. Cables whipped around him with alarming speed; one embedded itself into the device on his head, while another plunged into his spinal cord. Pain exploded through his body, a tempest of sensations as he lost all control. Braces clamped down on him, holding him firmly in place as the world around him began to shift. The device flooded his mind with knowledge beyond belief, an overwhelming torrent of everything he could see and hear—this was an entirely new level of existence. Suddenly, he felt as if he were everywhere all at once: Sumeria, Valkuntha, Andronov, Pleiades, Nogvar, Wolf 359, Sirius, and Sol. He was connected to the hyperspace network by some miraculous technological feat, and as the room began to hum around him, lights flickered to life, illuminating the entire chamber in a brilliant glow. Vibrations pulsed through every bone of the structure as the Dyson Sphere began to awaken, shifting from dormancy to an active state.
“What the absolute shit!” Cortez cried out, stunned by the unexpected development, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Skipper, what the hell is going on?!”
“Cortez! Mind your damn perimeter, look alive!” Thomson shouted, his voice laced with urgency as he focused on the situation at hand. “Sir, I don’t like this; please get out of there!”
“I can see them, all of them!” John exclaimed, his voice charged with an unsettling clarity that resonated deep within him.
“Sir, you’re scaring this hard-ass marine! What are you talking about?” Cortez responded, his confusion palpable in the charged atmosphere.
“Sumerians, the Russians, the Valkunthians, Almorians, the Xecthars, Sol! Oh my god, they are about to fall!” John’s mind raced, adrenaline coursing through him like electricity.
“Is there anything we can do?” Thomson pressed, desperation creeping into his tone as he sought to grasp the scope of the impending calamity.
“Everything!” John closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment, and began to embrace his destiny, ready to play the role he was meant to fulfill in this unfolding saga.
*"Do not concern yourself with the fake King; his fate is rapidly approaching." * John nearly shouted.