Jesri paced. The flight back up from the planet was still a blur in her memory, a rush of smeared bloody metal and her own trembling hands. Rhuar had been forced to divert his attention to help Qktk before they made it back to the ship, so the last leg of the flight resumed under the languid control of the autopilot.
Then had come the tense, hunched stalking through the halls after the escort of maintenance haulers Rhuar had sent as aid, one carrying her sister’s broken body and the rest spiriting away her shredded and bloody armor. Now she stood vigil near the autodoc, listening to the brisk movements of the machine within its opaque shell. Anja lay within, unconscious and now likely sedated as well. The sounds were soothing and repetitive, belying the mad frenzy with which the doc now worked to save her sister’s life.
Anja had stopped breathing on her own minutes before they touched down in the bay. Jesri had run alongside the maintenance bots, screaming at them to move faster towards the waiting medical bay. They were just haulers, however, and plodded along as they always did. She twisted her hands over each other, her fingers straining and joints cracking.
She was so tired.
Life alone had been her preference and her norm for most of the time she’d been alive, but the prospect of Anja’s ever-available companionship had been the salt that gave depth and meaning to those solitary years. With Anja barely clinging to life, Jesri felt every day of her age weighing on her shoulders.
So she sat and kept vigil. She would wait for Anja to be out of the doc, she decided, no matter how long it took. Even forever, the thought came, echoing seductively in her mind.
Jesri’s eyes snapped wide and she shot out of her seat, looking down at it warily. It had been years since she’d heard the siren whispers of catatonia calling to her. The temptation to sit like a rock in a river and let life flow by was strong - and addictive, once indulged. Without Anja there to break her free, it might actually be forever.
No, she decided, shaking her head angrily. She wouldn’t let her sister reawaken to see her like that. She needed to move.
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Rhuar nearly fainted with relief when he saw Jesri come out of the bridge lift in her duty greys, appearance restored to the usual professional caliber save for a few raw scuffs on her cheek and neck.
“Jesri! Thank fuck you’re here. Is Anja ok?”, Rhuar blurted, his speech nervous and rambling. His exoskeleton didn’t seem to know what to do with its hands, and they darted awkwardly around as he paced.
Jesri surveyed the bridge, which looked about like it had when she left. The glowing tactical display still showed the thick red cloud of the Ysleli fleet between them and the planet - save for a neat round hole in the formation that was only now beginning to close.
“Anja’s in the doc,” Jesri said, her expression forbidding. “What’s our status?”
Mercifully, Rhuar took a cue from her brusque manner and got straight to business. “Standoff, currently. We chatted with their admiral dude, Qktk insulted the king, they shot at us, we shot at them, now they’re deciding how they feel about that.”
Jesri raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I should ask for more detail on a few of those points,” she said, “but maybe later. No damage to the ship?”
Rhuar shook his head. “Nah, the point defense kicked in and shot down their artillery.”
“What’d we fire back?”, Jesri asked, looking at the collapsing hole in their formation on the tactical map. “Seems like it was effective.”
“Oh, yeah, the plasma lance!”, gushed Rhuar, enthusiasm banishing his anxiety. “That thing is intense! We lined it up and took out dozens of them in one shot, it was amazing!”
She nodded. “That was a good choice, tactically and psychologically. Though…” She gave him a look. “Aren’t you being a bit glib about the whole thing?”
Rhuar looked down, a guilty expression sliding over his face. “Sorry. I know we killed a bunch of people just now, and I’m not happy about that.” A sliver of defiance came into his expression, and he straightened up to look Jesri in the eye. “But on the other hand, fuck ‘em. The Captain tried to stall them as long as he could and they told him to shut up and fight. We can’t let them stop us from fighting the Gestalt. We’re saving their planet too, even if they don’t know it.”
Jesri ruffled his ears, amused despite herself. “Rhuar, I think you’d have made a good marine.” She looked over at the command dais, where Qktk was slumped listlessly in the captain’s chair. “Somehow I don’t think you managed to convince Kick to see it the same way.”
Rhuar looked over at him sadly. “Yeah,” he said. “I kinda forced him into firing it. I’ve been trying to cheer him up so he can talk to the Ysleli but I’m, uh. I’m not good at that,” he said somewhat lamely.
She flashed him a grin. “You’re a happy sort of person, Rhuar. It’s not a bad thing, but you don’t have much of an appreciation for gloom and depression. Let me try talking with him for a bit.”
She left Rhuar and plopped into the first officer’s chair, sizing Qktk up. The little Htt was half-curled in the seat of the overlarge chair, his eyes closed and legs tucked in tightly. “Hey bud,” Jesri said casually, “how’s your day been?”
Qktk shifted, but didn’t reply. Jesri leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the console and stretching. “Me, I’ve had a pretty shit day so far. Started out okay, got to see some nice mountains. Flew the Huginn around. After that, though,” she sighed, “it was pretty much straight shit. Got shot at. Shot some folks. Had to look at the mutilated corpses of my dead sisters. Went toe-to-toe with the face of evil, actually a pretty nice guy in retrospect. Dead now, though. Found out that I didn’t have nearly as good a grasp on the whole Gestalt situation as I thought. Actually, seems like we’re pretty fucked at this point.” She paused, reflecting. “Oh, and Anja’s leg got cut off.”
Qktk’s head popped up. “Her leg? Is she okay?”, he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
“Oh good, I was afraid you were asleep,” Jesri deadpanned. “She’s in the autodoc. She’ll be fine… if she lives.” She hesitated, and Qktk turned a concerned stare on her.
“Are you okay?”, he asked. The sheer quantity of eyes he could bring to bear lent a simple gaze more gravitas than she was accustomed to.
Jesri laughed darkly. “Okay is a relative term, Kick,” she chuckled. “I’m fine. I had a whole bunch of fuckery dumped in my lap today, but I’m…” She grimaced. “I’m deferring it. For a quiet moment later on.”
Qktk hung his head ruefully. “If your intent was to make me feel silly for moping, mission accomplished. All I did was push a button.”
Jesri reached over to smack him on the shell. “Don’t apologize. That many lives shouldn’t pass lightly.” She straightened up, sitting properly in her chair and throwing a glance at Rhuar. “Well, for most people,” she amended. “Besides, you’re selling yourself short. I hear you told the king to fuck off?”
“No!”, Qktk said, his eyes shooting open in alarm. “I insulted him accidentally, to his subordinate. It was all a huge misunderstanding.”
A tone sounded from the console in front of them, and Jesri glanced over to see a softly pulsing light. “You want to take a shot at clearing it up?”
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The transmission finally connected, and Tarl kept himself from tensing as the familiar nightmare face of the black demon popped onto the screen. This time, he was flanked by two subordinates - on his left sat a dark-furred creature with some manner of mechanical exoskeleton wrapped over its back and legs. Its mouth hung open slightly, revealing gleaming white predatory teeth and a lolling tongue.
To the demon’s left sat a tall, lanky creature, almost Ysleli in build, but with unnatural pale-pink skin and odd blue-on-white eyes that regarded the camera dispassionately. If its species was anything like the Ysleli, Tarl judged that it was female. Of the three, this one was dressed in a uniform that was immediately recognizable as military in origin.
“Shipmaster,” Tarl said formally. “I thank you for the opportunity to engage in further discussion.”
“Warfather,” replied the demon in his oddly perfect Yslel, “I’m glad to see you in good health. Did you have a topic of conversation in mind?”
Tarl nodded, suddenly as nervous as he’d been in a long time. “In the name of His Royal Majesty King Sitrl, I yield the battle and stand ready to receive your demands.” He let his breath out in a rush, the electric feeling of defeat singing in his nerves. It was novel, but if he had to deliver his first surrender he could find none better to receive it than this nightmare and his invincible ship.
The demon nodded his head fractionally. “Accepted. Our first officer will read the demands.” The tall, uniformed alien straightened slightly and fixed the camera with a stare.
“None,” she said, her voice high and clear.
Tarl stared, taken aback. “None? You have no demands in victory?”
“None,” she confirmed. “We had one objective in visiting your world and we have already fulfilled it.”
For the first time in many, many years, Tarl was at a loss for words. Ten thousand of his troops dead, and for what? So that this oddly mismatched crew could claim victory and move on? So that his world could be left to the ravages of war in their aftermath?
“Your arrival here will have consequences far beyond today’s dead,” Tarl said, a hint of a growl seeping into his voice. “The barons will scent blood. Sitrl will be challenged. War will touch billions.”
Much to Tarl’s surprise, the demon and his crew seemed discomfited by his words. The demon and his first officer shared a glance, and it was the first officer that finally spoke in response. “Tarl, I’m going to be frank with you,” she said. “None of us are diplomats by trade, and you seem like the kind of guy that appreciates straight talk.”
She folded her hands in her lap and gave him the full brunt of her icy gaze. “We didn’t want any of this, and your people didn’t do much of anything to deserve it. You were infiltrated by our adversary, who hid some items of great importance here.” She grimaced, another statement seeming to pass unsaid. “That was our sole objective in coming to Ysl,” she continued, “and we regret the loss of your ships and crew as a result.”
Tarl bristled, the ghosts of his men flashing before his eyes. “If that is so, why come seeking conflict?”, he thundered angrily. “Why force a fight, knowing how laughably we were outmatched? Are you accustomed to toying with your prey?”
She shook her head sadly. “If we had told you our true purpose, would you have given us what we needed? Would Sitrl? Even if you did, Trelir would have acted independently-”
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“Trelir?”, Tarl interjected, wheels spinning in his head. “Administrator Trelir from the Ministry of Science? What does that slimy kerl have to do with any of this? All the man is good for is stealing my fleet’s budget so he can go gallivanting around in search of yet more...”
Tarl paused, startled. “...human artifacts,” he said quietly, feeling the events of the day slotting into place. He looked at the uniformed first officer with new eyes. Trelir had included many pictures and sketches in his droning presentations before the Royal Council, and the more he thought back on them… “I believe introductions may be in order,” he remarked.
She smiled and inclined her head. “Captain Jesri Tam, Terran Naval Marines. The furry gentleman is Rhuar, and you’ve already met Qktk.” Rhuar gave a panting grin and waved with an exoskeletal arm, while Qktk looked sheepish.
For the second time that day, Tarl found himself laughing at the absurdity of the universe. “Terran. I begin to understand,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m going to kill Trelir.”
“Way ahead of you,” Jesri said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. “While your fleet was engaged we sent a team to the surface. Trelir revealed himself as an agent of our enemy and attempted to detain us. I’m not sure that ‘dead’ is the right word, but you probably won’t be hearing from him again.”
Tarl chuckled resignedly. “It seems the game was won before I knew I was playing. Still, by removing Trelir you’ve earned yourself goodwill from much of the court. Perhaps even enough to offset the aftermath of this battle, doubly so if his loyalties were false as you say. The man was a plague.”
“More than you know,” Jesri said solemnly. “He represented an entity that wishes nothing less than the complete and utter destruction of the universe as we know it.”
“I’d believe it of him,” Tarl chuckled, but his laughter died as he saw the stony faces looking back at him through the feed. “You’re serious,” he said disbelievingly. “They have the means to do this?”
“Oh yes,” Jesri replied, “and much else. We learned of its plans long ago and made our own plans to stop it.” She grimaced. “Well, such as we were able. You can infer how well that went.”
Tarl’s head was spinning, years of assumptions disintegrating in seconds of conversation. “The cataclysm. That was an attack? We had always assumed that humans destroyed themselves through some experiment gone wrong. Our scientists have spent years attempting to discern the nature of the fate that befell your people.”
Jesri gave a wry grin. “Scientists under Trelir’s direction? He knew the precise history of those events, given that his employers directed them. Hell, he was probably there himself. He was simply trying to divert your efforts to ensure his own weren’t disrupted.”
Tarl was still working himself into a proper rage in response to her revelations when his new sensor officer shouted for him, urgency threading through his voice.
“Warfather! A new contact, port fore midline. Unknown configuration, but it’s big.”
He spun to look at the console, distantly noticing the three crew on the human ship look off towards their own display. Beyond their ship a large, dark ovoid had materialized without the fanfare or drama of a typical hyperspace exit. It simply appeared, cutting through the starfield like a black stain. Although not as long as the human ship it was both wider and taller, and clearly more massive.
Tarl looked back to the feed from the human ship. “Another of yours?”, he asked hopefully.
Jesri shook her head, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “No, one of theirs. Like Trelir. Dammit, he told us one would be coming.”
“Trelir’s death was not enough to repay his treachery,” rumbled Tarl. “It is good of his masters to send more to die. We will-”
“No!”, shouted Jesri, an alarmed look on her face. “Tarl, you cannot engage that ship. It’s only interested in us. Rhuar,” she added, turning to the furred pilot, “get us out of here, short jump to any target.”
“You flee battle?”, Tarl said disbelievingly. “You have the mightiest ship we have ever known. Surely together-”
Jesri shook her head, cutting him off. “Tarl, just trust me on this. We’d have no better luck against that thing than you did against us. The best we can do is get it away from your world and hope to lose it.” She turned to her pilot again. “Rhuar, now!”
Tarl regarded Jesri, her wide, earnest eyes boring through the screen at him. Her face, her posture, her rapid breath - it was fear, he saw, a cold lump settling into his stomach. Not just fear for her and her ship, but fear for Ysl. He was once again a child, Tarl realized with humiliation, to be pushed to a place of safety while the warriors worked.
He nodded slowly, reluctance etched into his face. “Then we will meet once more, if I can convince Sitrl to spare me for my defeat. Farewell, human shipmasters.”
Jesri nodded and cut the transmission, the feed from their bridge winking out. Tarl looked around to his bridge staff. They looked a bit dazed by the events of the day, and he could scarcely blame them. “Battle posts!”, he barked. “Reform the fleet and prepare to… hold,” he said grimly. His crew snapped into action, a susurrus of anticipation running through the bridge.
He turned back towards the viewports, watching the deadly sliver of the human ship slowly pivot as it made ready to escape. He flexed his hands into fists, feeling the flakes of dark dried blood loosen from his claws. It galled him to sit and watch as the ship that killed his crew fled, pursued by the agents of those who forced their hand. Battle with either would have been a salve for his honor, but this was not a field the Ysleli could stand on. Not yet, he amended fiercely.
His fists tightened further, his claws piercing his hand to add rivulets of fresh blood to the dry. The Ysleli were not accustomed to being so insignificant, but the universe did not regard any being’s custom in its whims. After he returned to Ysl, after he informed the court of Trelir’s treachery, after he survived Sitrl’s inevitable demand for his life, then - he had work to do.
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“Energy spike!”, Rhuar yelled, his muscles straining as he poured his focus into the shipjack. The bridge hummed softly as the ship attempted to reorient itself for warp, but the massive cruiser could only turn so quickly. “It’s going to tag us before we can warp!”, he warned.
Jesri ran over to Qktk’s console and began retargeting the primed weapons systems. Qktk fell back in his chair, worriedly buckling his restraints. “Shit,” muttered Jesri, noting that the console was still set to control the HCPL. “Wouldn’t be my first choice.” Her finger stabbed down at the console.
The thrumming charge of the plasma lance grew louder and louder until a piercing whine and resonant thump echoed through the ship’s superstructure. Harsh shadows filled the bridge, cast by a pillar of light that flared out to strike their ovoid aggressor. Billowing golden clouds of charged particulates filled the monitor, and for a second Jesri dared to hope the strike had somehow delayed the ship.
The haze left by the shot was flung outwards in a rapidly spreading ring to reveal the Emissary ship, a small patch of hull warped and white-hot where the beam had struck. Jesri saw something shoot out impossibly fast from the fore quarter of the ovoid, rippling the starfield and plasma remnants like a wave over the surface of a still pond. Jesri grabbed the console to brace herself for the impact. The ship’s structural beams creaked ominously as the distortion raced towards them, rising to a low, eerie scream that seemed to echo in Jesri’s skull. It rose to a crescendo, then rapidly diminished.
Rhuar’s head snapped up in shock, looking wide-eyed at Jesri. “They missed?”, he said disbelievingly. “It went a few dozen meters wide! How could-” He froze, his eyes defocusing. “Oh no,” he whispered.
Jesri turned to the display to see the distortion continue past them towards Ysl, lensing and warping the cloud-dappled continents. A spattering of bright lights twinkled as it rushed through the remnants of Tarl’s formation to twist and crush half a dozen ships that found themselves too close to its path.
A fountain of hazy atmosphere was drawn up in the split second before it arrived, swirling and dispersing as the ripple moved rapidly down to strike the terrain. A blinding flash issued from the point of impact, quickly obscured by the gout of grey dirt and stone that thundered upwards around the epicenter. A shockwave tore through the atmosphere, pushing the clouds outwards in a ring and leaving a hazy skein of dust and debris cluttering the air in its path.
Jesri and Qktk watched the monitors in horror as a third of Ysl’s largest continent vanished under a thick blanket of roiling dust. “Holy shit,” whispered Jesri, turning back towards where Rhuar still strained to turn the ship towards their exit vector. “Rhuar, I don’t care where we end up, you jump this fucking ship now!”
“Aye sir!”, Rhuar shouted back. The whine of the drives vibrated through the decking as space began picking itself apart in front of the ship. A ring of twisted starlight began to form, and Jesri stalked back to her chair and strapped in.
Rhuar’s head snapped up, looking back at Jesri in a panic. “Another spike!”, he shouted. “This is going to be close!” All of Qktk’s eyes were fixed on the monitor showing the implacable Emissary ship advancing steadily towards them. A second ripple of distorted space flung itself outwards from the ship, growing in size rapidly.
The ring of light danced and churned as a black void snapped open in its center. Rhuar wasted no time in engaging the jump. The deck bucked violently to throw Jesri and Qktk against their restraints as the drive engaged. Bright light flashed through the viewports and the torus swept past the length of the ship, replaced immediately by the absolute darkness of hyperspace.
The deck heaved again as the Emissary’s shot passed through the volume of space occupied only moments before by several million tons of human warship. Vortices of light spun in the void as they were flung violently away from their collapsing ingress portal, which disintegrated in a shockwave that sent groaning tremors reverberating through the ship.
As the last noise of protest from their tormented ship trailed off, the small crew of the Grand Design sat wide-eyed and stunned on the bridge. Jesri shot Rhuar a look and coughed. “Rhuar, status?”, she said, keeping most of the shake from her voice.
Rhuar picked himself up from where he had been tossed by the heaving ship and shook himself, his exoskeletal arms checking the shipjack compulsively. “Seems like we’re okay,” he said after a few seconds of consideration. “We’ve had some feedback that mostly ran into the breakers, and I imagine there’s a lot of stuff that got knocked over. A few decks are suffering power and gravity reductions, we’re on auxiliary environmentals and our gravimetric sensors are going to need recalibration.”
An icy trickle slipped down Jesri’s spine. “Rhuar, the autodoc,” she said urgently.
Rhuar nodded. “Autodoc has power and reads as fully functional,” he confirmed. “There was no interruption in power or damage to the equipment.”
Jesri nodded, sagging back into her seat. “Good,” she said hoarsely, suddenly feeling every minute of her age. She allowed herself a few seconds of slumped relaxation, then straightened up and cleared her throat. “How’s our heading?”, she asked.
Rhuar blinked. “Shit, forgot about that,” he said sheepishly. “Looks like we’re…”
He paused and blinked again. “Stay strapped in,” he said tersely. “Emergency blow.” His eyes glazed over and a jarring vibration began to buzz through the bridge. Motes of light flared suddenly in a corona around the ship, streaking outwards randomly.
“Wait, what?”, Jesri asked, no small amount of alarm in her voice. The emergency blow was a drill practiced on every hyperspace-capable vessel. It was the option of last resort, using a sudden asymmetry of the ship’s hyperspace field to violently and unceremoniously leave cruising depth and return to normal space. It was highly unpleasant.
“Rhuar, hold on-” Jesri began, but he made a jerky chopping motion with one arm to cut her off.
“Can’t talk,” he grated out, focusing intensely on the ship as the shuddering of the deck increased to violent levels. Crackling energy arced past the viewports, and for a few tense seconds they all held on in silence. Suddenly another creaking groan echoed through the bridge as the accumulating energy dissipated in a flash. A wave of nausea hit Jesri, sharp pain flashing at her temples and blurring her vision. She saw Qktk curled completely into a ball on his chair, rocking back and forth repeatedly. Rhuar was collapsed on the deck, vomiting and twitching.
She allowed herself to stay slumped and motionless for a few seconds before she winced and pulled herself upright, the motion causing her head to swim. Qktk uncurled slightly and shook his head, while Rhuar struggled to his feet and wiped his mouth.
“Well,” said Jesri hoarsely. “That was fun.” She leaned heavily on her chair for support and tried to will her vision to unblur. “Rhuar, would you mind telling us why we just did that?”
He coughed, shaking himself vigorously. “Something happened right after we jumped, when the window collapsed,” he said weakly. “Probably something to do with that reality-bending bullshit they were shooting. Whatever happened, it kicked us way deeper than we were supposed to go, sent us moving fast. By the time I looked we were already across the outer arm.”
Jesri’s head cleared like she had been plunged into icewater. “The outer arm of what? Rhuar, we can’t possibly-” She looked out of the viewports and saw an inky blackness with only a few bright points drifting slowly as the ship spun in a languid pirouette. “No,” she whispered, “we were only in hyperspace for seconds!”
“I know,” winced Rhuar. “I can’t explain it. But here we are.” The slow rotation of the ship continued, and a bright glow peeked through the viewports.
Qktk stared, all of his eyes fixed on the window. “Jim’s hairy balls,” he swore, “it can’t be...”
The three of them looked on helplessly as the full splendor of the Milky Way’s disc shone into the bridge. It was bright and glorious, still large enough to fill most of the sky, but they were decidedly on the outside looking in.
“Well, shit,” Jesri remarked.