Vek-shuul and his crew could do nothing but stare at the frozen picture in front of them. They were not prepared, in the slightest, to make first contact with a species as technologically capable as this one was, let alone the one genetic engineering project their entire species had been donating every scientific mind they could find at for the past several millennia. The freeze-frame of the man staring back at them from the curved hologram along the dome-shaped bridge wall carried more weight than the human could imagine.
"Captain, what is your course of action?" a recruit asked without emotion, obviously a result of the shock. Silence overtook the bridge as Vek pondered his choices. Vek finally shattered this tense tranquility with his authoritarian tone.
"Set a heading for the nearest star system and plot an FTL course as quickly as possible! We are leaving!" he yelled as he returned his chair to the ground, being followed by the six other crew members.
"B-but, sir-"
"I am perfectly aware that we are abandoning our mission objective, but we have already done too much! We must evacuate as soon as possible to minimize our impact on the Neuros. I have been captain of this vessel for millennia and I am not letting a simple mistake ruin my perfect record by unraveling everything our species has worked for!" Vek quickly retorted, his long-winded rant prompting the inquiring recruit to return to his duties as delegated by the captain.
"Subspace accelerato-"
"Full speed!" Vek shouted before the recruit could finish his sentence. Regardless, the crew member did as he was told, and the spindles of the ship began to glow once more. In the blink of an eye, the large anemone of a starship practically teleported out of the star system and sped over to Alpha Centauri in the blink of an eye. The entirety of the moon beneath the ship was quickly lost in the light of its system's sun, apparently known as Sol by the Neuros. On the other side of the bridge's observatory, another star grew brighter, quickly overtaking the vision of the crew with a smaller, blue orb of light. They had done it: the crew has jumped from Sol to deep space around Alpha Centauri. However, that did not change the implications of their recent interaction with the Neuros. However, with all immediate crisis averted, the recruits turned in their seats to face the captain, who was cradling his head in his fore-limbs. He looked up to see the expectant faces of his recruits.
"The Council will have my head..." Vek muttered with a petrified expression on his face.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam was speechless. He stared at the holographic screen in front of him, struggling to comprehend the presence of alien life in his own solar system. Sweat beaded upon his face as all was silent in the control room, save for the rhythmic beeping of the electronics he was surrounded by. "Lexi, l-lights up," he stated in his dazed state to the control center's virtual intelligence. The edges of the massive control room, lined with LED bars, glowed with greater intensity, slightly drowning out the holographic screens projected in front of them. The metallic floor, bathed in a new light, showed the plethora of wrappers and food packaging remnants left sitting atop its polished surface by the intern. "Eugh..." Sam exclaimed as he wiped the crumbs off of his dress shirt with disgust on his face, shooting up from his desk and sending the maglev chair hurtling back towards the wall behind him. His train of thought was quickly brought back to the topic at hand as the chair slammed into the wall. "Okay, Sam, think, think... Um, r-right!" he exclaimed once more in a whisper as he brought up his communicator, waving his hand through the air in front of him as he toggled through the options displayed on his contact lenses. "Phone... Stacy... Lindsay... Josh!" Sam flipped through his contacts until he finally arrived at his friend's.
Josh and Sam's relationship was a deep one, for sure. Josh was the one who actually got Sam interested in pursuing a career in astrophysics. Being that they both lived in the same apartment building, there were plenty of nights where they would find time to go on to the roof, lay on their backs, and simply point out satellites that would drift by in the night sky. Granted, 7 times out of 10, the small light they saw passive overhead was either a Starlink quantum communications satellite from the 2040s or another ice-hauler headed for Luna, but they had fun nevertheless. So much so, in fact, that Josh was Sam's go-to guy in times of need. He always seemed to know exactly what to do, even if all he said was something along the lines of "Stay calm" or "Everything will be just fine," everything worked out when Sam followed Josh's instructions.
Sam was brought out of his flashback as the spinning icon in the corner of his retina stopped and expanded to display his friend's face. "Sam? What's up?" Josh asked with a nonchalant tone, only glancing up at his webcam periodically.
Sam's expression, on the other hand, was quite the contrary. "Wha- do- how... Josh! 'What's up?' Are you insane?!" he blurted, beginning to pace back and forth along the back row of the control room. "There are aliens out there and they have found us, Josh! Don't you know what that means?!" Sam continued as he began to break a sweat.
"Yup," Josh replied.
"It means that the age-old question -- the question that has plagued philosophers and astronomists alike for thousands of years has finally been answered with a resounding-"
"Uh-huh." Josh cut Sam off.
"Exactly! And the only thing we can do now is to wait for the inevitable! I-I mean did you see the size of that thing? It's like a goddamn moon! And- i-it just sped off, like a bullet! No, faster than a bullet! It was like a... like a... really fast bullet?" Sam fumbled as he searched for a decent simile, but he was only able to earn an unamused glare from Josh's side of the call. Sam took a deep breath and stood facing one of the holographic monitors that still displayed the traces of gamma radiation the alien vessel left behind as it sped off into the galaxy. "Look, the point is... I think the news isn't actually over exaggerating this time. Maybe we are at risk of an extinction event. You kn-" Sam's eyebrows furrowed as he finally caught on to what Josh had been doing this entire time. "Josh?"
"Hm?" he coldly replied, not even breaking eye contact with the computer screen in front of him. "Oh, sorry, yeah, I've been listening," he stated, finally looking at the camera. "Why do you need me to look at the camera anyway? It's not like I can see you."
"I know, but it's just courteous. B-besides, that is not what this conversation is about, man! What are you doing?" Sam pressed on with an accusatory tone.
Josh picked his hands up off of the keyboard and threw them up on either side of his head. "Relax, officer! I already know my rights so you can just throw me in the ca-"
"I-I'm not joking Josh! I need help!" Sam asked once more, this time in a more desperate, shaky voice. This seemed to get the point across to Josh, who was now staring seriously at the webcam lens in front of him.
"You know, Sam, for how smart you are, you're really stupid," he stated with a blank expression on his face and a dead stare into the lens. Sam's eyebrows furrowed once more as he sat down in front of another console with a whump as the maglev chair bobbed under his weight.
"WHAT DO I DO?!" Sam yelled, causing Josh to cringe as his earpieces were assaulted by the intern's shrill voice.
"God, okay, look. If you really think that these hyper-advanced aliens are out to destroy us, why would they not have already done it?" Sam was about to retaliate until the possibility of Josh's point hit him like a train. This moon-sized ship simply entered our solar system, sat around and showed no malicious intent, and then left. There was no reason to fear them. "Besides, even if this was like a scouting mission or something and that mothership, if that's what it is, is simply going back to alert the rest of the fleet, then we have two options: we either panic, or we prepare for their or any other alien race's possible invasion," Josh stated as he returned his view back to his computer. "Oh, and, if you must know, I'm finishing college applications, which are due this Friday, by the way." he scolded Sam. "Is there anything else you needed?"
"Well, I, uh, guess n-"
"See ya!" Josh finished as he ended the call, returning Sam's vision to the radiation signatures on the monitor in front of him. Josh was right: the key to this wasn't to panic, but to simply go with the flow and do whatever we could to cope with this realization. With a sigh, the intern got up from his chair and made his way to the exit, eager to see how the public was reacting. However, just as he began moving away, an audible ping from one of the monitors in the back row caught his attention. Backpedaling a bit, the screen came into view.
PRIORITY-1 COMLINK: INCOMING ------------ FROM: UNS ARMSTRONG, UNS ALDRIN ------------ 11:43 PM, 11/24/83
Sam couldn't believe what his eyes were reading. In large, bold, red letters, the computer was apparently receiving a communique from two of the most fearsome dreadnoughts in the entirety of the United Nations Earth Defense fleet. Before he could have time to investigate the ping, another monitor in the row ahead of Sam received another message. "The UNS Newton?" he muttered as he squinted to read the message ahead of him. His attention was diverted once more as yet another monitor pinged next to him. Oh, there goes another one, this time to his right! Stepping back from the array of computers, Sam backed up against the back wall of the control room.
The intern's jaw dropped as the screens in front of him, one by one, went from blue to red as they each eventually displayed distress call after distress call coming from Earth-affiliated vessels throughout the solar system. However, the red dots that filled the screen seemed to be gradually expanding in every direction from Earth, almost as if there was a delay in communications due to distance. The quantum arrays, allowing instantaneous communication between planets and moons across the system, were integral in maintaining the wellbeing of colonial commerce and life. They would never voluntarily use any form of communications outside of entanglement, unless...
"Are they using... radio?" Sam muttered with an eyebrow arched in sheer curiosity. Here he was in a secure federal communications facility in the midst of what is possibly the most pivotal revelation about the universe thus far in human history, and he gets to witness all of it. Maybe he should do... more. Being the only one in this control room, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do my pseudo-job and answer one of these. he half-logically reasoned. With a shaky hand, both from anticipation and nervousness, the intern reached forward and sheepishly touched his index finger to the flashing red icon that displayed the origin of the distress call.
Without giving time for the young man to react, the notification expanded to take up the entire screen of the hologram. Now filling Sam's vision was a wave signature with a big ol' progress bar beneath it, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the computer was going to do next.
As the audio file began to play, the room was filled with the voice of what sounded like a scruffy, old man. A voice of experience, but an aging one nonetheless. "This is Captain Anders of the UNS Aldrin, authentication code 624-D-745. I, uh, understand this is not proper etiquette for a federal communique, but we're at least 10 light-minutes from Earth, and don't exactly have all the time in the world to figure out our problems here. Chief Engineer has compiled a summary of malfunctions and their possible causes."
There is a pause in the recording, and the control room was filled with the muffled whirring and periodic beeping of the computers. Sam was left to stare at the hologram in front of him in anticipation as the progress bar continued to cross the flat segment of the wave signature. After the longest 10 seconds Sam had ever experienced, it reached a spike in the sound file as the Chief Engineer's voice came through loud and clear. "Chief Castillo to Command. Approximately an hour ago, we began experiencing momentary lapses in communication through our entanglement array, a minor occurrence that we chalked up to pure statistical possibility. However, as the hour progressed, these lapses only grew in length and, no more than 15 minutes ago, all systems running on quantum-based computing aboard the Aldrin began to malfunction, including the navigation module. Any and all efforts to recalibrate or reset the computers have been ineffective at restoring their functionality. In short, we believe that... w-we believe..." the Chief Engineer seemed to trail off toward the tail end of his statement, his voice becoming fainter and indicating that he has moved away from the microphone. "A-are we sure about this?" he queries.
Others in the background, people who can only be assumed to be engineers under his command, can be heard mumbling their opinions. "Of course! There's no other possible way! It's not like we were eager to embrace the idea." one of them stated.
"We've tried everything. Plus, it's the perfect explanation. It accounts for the gravitational perturbations we detected directly prior to the malfunctions, too!" another continued.
A heavy sigh could be heard, then the Chief Engineer began to speak once more. "We believe that the properties of the universe have been altered. A-although, I suppose a less cheesy way of phrasing that is, um, the relationship between particles, their entanglement more specifically, has been altered... U-um, somehow! Somehow..." he quickly added, as not to make himself sound like he was treating this in a casual manner. After all, the fabric of spacetime being rearranged is, in no way, a casual matter. "So, i-it seems that, assuming we are not the only one affected by this, every ship in at least our vicinity is without navigation and, well, flying blind, for lack of a better term."
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Maybe the trouble wasn't completely over.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frantic voices and the sound of people running in dress shoes filled the usually quiet Houston control room as its 304 operators struggled to keep up with the massive influx of distress calls from UN vessels across the solar system. As the central hub of Earth-based space command, the massive facility -- the size of a payload rocket hangar -- consisted of 50 tiered circular rings that diagonally ascended the room. Many have said that it reminds them of a very orderly lecture hall from college. But, despite its significant upgrade from just 40 years ago, it was probably in a state of no less chaos than it would have been all those decades prior.
From a bird's eye view, the control room was akin to a bullseye target. The 360-degree theatre-grade holographic screens surrounding the center spire of the concentric circles were busy displaying different sections of the solar system. One showed a 15,000,000-mile radius from Earth, the one above it showed the same search range around Mars, and the ring-shaped screen at the top of the center console displayed a panorama of the entire solar system but riddled with red dots that were only increasing in quantity.
While the squabbling workers tirelessly typed away at their keyboards and yelled into their headsets, one man briskly paced in his office atop the center pillar of the control room. Pausing to stare out his wall-sized window, he continued to clench the foam Earth stress ball he held as he overlooked the disorder beneath him. The various indoor plants and cool lighting that adorned the room did little to diffuse the situation at hand. "So, what the hell even happened?" he coldly asked, suppressing his panic.
"W-well, sir, we can't be entirely sure." a hologram of a young, suit-clad man behind him responded. Next to him were three other holograms, each displaying men and women of varying ages and formal attire. For the last few minutes, the head of communications for the American Collective, who was currently squeezing the life out of his miniature Earth, had been in a conference call with the managers of major control facilities nationwide. From left to right, there were the heads of facilities located in Seattle, Pensacola, San Francisco, and New York.
"Is there any word from any intelligence agencies? This could be an act of terror." an elderly man stated. The Houston head promptly turned around and glared at him.
"You and I both know that this was not terrorism. There isn't a group in the solar system that has the resources to pull something like this off." he retorted as his glare softened. "This was the work of aliens." he finished plainly. This earned him a chuckle from the others in the call, but they were quickly silenced with a scolding glance. "I'm serious. We can't just sit here and dismiss the mothership that just popped in and out of existence, even if using it as justification for a system-wide quantum communications blackout sounds a bit cheesy." he continued.
"None of us are denying that possibility, but it's not what we should be focusing on. We need to figure out how we can restore communications ASAP, otherwise, thousands of ships are going to be without navigation. You realize 90% of those vessels out there are drones, don't you?" a young woman responded.
A gruff, elderly man grunted as soon as an idea came to his mind. Looking up from the ground to make eye contact with the Houston director, he explained his revelation with a stern expression. "We have entanglement-based servers on the ground, don't we? Why don't we just act as a... a sort of relay station o-or a processor for communications and navigation? We can just broadcast our results to the ships-"
"Right, and we'll just go ahead and do that through radio to ships that are clear on the other side of the sun. Are you going senile already, old man?" Houston interrupted, prompting another light chuckle from the others present. The elderly man simply grumbled a bit and returned his gaze to the ground. silence overtook the room once more as all in attendance were stuck pondering.
"W-wait, all of those ships have some rudimentary guidance systems onboard, don't they?" the youngest man present queried. He was the newly appointed director of operations at the Seattle lunar communications hub, so he was obviously still getting the hang of the ropes.
The director of the Houston facility turned and began to pace again, continuing to periodically squeeze his stress ball. "Sure, but they're simple systems designed to manage life support, lighting, and temperature control. Moreover, they're conventional. Trying to calculate a path of travel through deep space, taking into account gravitational pull and relative velocity to shifting orbits in real-time, without a quantum processor is like using a thermostat as a GPS," he finished with a chuckle as he threw his hands up at the absurdity of the concept.
The others in the room chuckled, as well, save for the eldest woman, director of the New York facility, who seemed to be shifting awkwardly while struggling to force a chuckle. This did not go unnoticed by the Houston director as he furrowed his brow and locked eyes with her. "And we would never use a thermostat as a GPS, would we?" he continued with growing suspicion.
The group in front of him followed suit, looking toward the woman with curiosity. With a heavy sigh, she spoke out. "Look, we have to present something to Central Command by the end of the day, and the only leads we have are that an extrasolar vessel of unknown origin entered and exited our system by unknown means, and, shortly thereafter, we get system-wide reports that the fabric of spacetime has been tampered with. Personally, I find it entirely plausible that this is the result of an alien threat; one that we don't have anywhere near the level of technological understanding to comprehend."
"...and your point is?" Houston probed.
"The point is that using onboard systems to substitute for those which are malfunctioning is the best short-term solution we've got, especially considering we have no way to reverse what has been done," she finished.
The room filled with silence once more as the other three holograms stared at the Houston director for a response. He, however, did not acknowledge the extra attention as he pressed his lips in thought. He started out his window and, with a deep sigh, looked at the New York director. He nodded without a word and walked over to get behind his desk. "Alright, are we at a general consensus here?" he asked.
Sweeping his eyes across the holograms in front of him, he saw them nod one by one. "Very well, I shall file a report to Central Command, and notify all of you when they have approved it so that we may begin the rescue efforts. For now, all of you do whatever it is you must to ensure that nobody crashes in the next hour. Good day," he finished as he hovered his hand over the button on his monitor labeled End transmission.
One by one, the holograms flickered out of existence, revealing the coolly-lit and foliage-dense atmosphere of the director's office as the lights around its perimeter brightened. The Houston director stared down onto his desk as he realized he was still clenching his stress ball. He brought his hand up and set the wrinkled foam Earth onto his work station, staring at it with an almost mournful gaze. In front of him sat the cradle of humanity, however, compressed and deformed it had become, and it was time to take action to protect her from whatever unimaginable threats lay beyond the Oort Cloud, and that would all begin with a confirmation call to Central Command.
"Let's do this, Mother Earth!" he confidently stated, and promptly inwardly cringed at the cheesiness of his remark. "Too much?" he asked the stress ball and received the stark glare of the African subcontinent. "Too much," he confided, booting up his holographic interface and straightening his tie. He couldn't be caught looking sloppy in front of the United Nations, after all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope!"
Those were the words that reverberated throughout the empty, dimly lit halls of the Portland Sub-Relay Center as Sam briskly walked out of the control room, into the main lobby, and towards the front entrance of the facility. He timed his wrist flicking perfectly, allowing each pair of pneumatic doors he came across to open just as he arrived at their microchip scanners. The sound of trickling water filled the intern's ears as he rounded the corner to arrive in the lobby of the facility. A geometric tesselation of scalene triangles adorned the marble flooring, outlined in gold. The reception desk sat dormant, its swooping shape cascading directly into an Asian-influenced water feature consisting of a tranquil waterfall flowing over a precariously-stacked pile of smoothed stones. However, Sam was in too much of a rush to appreciate the feng shui of the architecture.
The intern continued his awkward power walk towards the main entrance, repositioning the straps of his backpack as it was jostled by each step. As he came upon the sliding doors, the voice of Lexi echoed throughout the lobby. "Have a good night, Mr. Wolfe. We here at the Portland chapter of the UNSC look forward to your next visit," she stated in a warm, serene manner, completely juxtaposing Sam's own demeanor.
"As do I, Lexi," the young man muttered under his labored breaths, evidently a bit exhausted. Sam cringed as his face was assaulted by the frigid midnight air just outside of the facility. The fwoomp of the glass doors shutting behind him went almost unnoticed as he made a beeline down the steps and onto the segment of the sidewalk next to the loading and unloading zone. With a shuddering breath, Sam ordered a taxi with his watch and wished he had brought a jacket. It didn't take long for headlights to pierce the trees that lined the front of the facility's lot. The young man then began to wonder what he was going to do when he got home. His parents weren't awake, let alone the majority of Portland, so news of this whole incident was probably going to have to wait until the morning.
He let out a sigh of relief. "At least I get some respite from this whole shindig, eh?" he remarked to nobody in particular. Just then, the gentle whirring of the taxi's electric motor could be heard as it pulled up right in front of Sam. The intern wasted no time in stepping in as soon as the door slid itself open. "505 Northeast Laddington Court, Laurelhurst." he enunciated to the car's navigation system as he situated himself in the back seat, scanning his microchip on the sensor by the door.
"Destination acknowledged. Estimated time of arrival: 1:03 am, a 12-minute drive. Amenities may be found in the center console with their prices listed on the screen in front of you. Please sit back and enjoy the ride, Mr. Wolfe," the car replied. Soon, the cabin lights dimmed to a cool blue and the vehicle began to accelerate onto the roadway. Sam could do nothing but listen to the electric whirr of the engine as he stared out the panoramic window at the stars that twinkled above.
It didn't take long before the vehicle neared the St. Johns bridge and made its way over the Willamette. The young man's stare into the night sky was interrupted by the faint glimmer of the various buildings downtown. Even with the city's growing population, very few people put in the effort to stay up this late. Portland's nightlife never was anything to rave about, after all. But, that didn't mean that there were a few dozen individuals pulling some overtime or celebrating. Luckily, it didn't look like any of these people had turned on the news, since Sam didn't really count on any of them taking it as well as Josh did. The intern simply stared out at the skyline, taking in the last few moments of peace that he was going to see in a while.
There was nothing the new agencies could do at this point. The information of the entire encounter with the supposed aliens had been leaked by civilian recordings that have since gone viral on social media. All of this was way over his head. The best thing to do now was to go home, get a good night's rest, dig a hole in the backyard, construct an underground bunker, stock up on non-perishable food items, weld the door shut, and hope that the collapse of civilization, as he knew it, come dawn doesn't get him and his family killed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thoughts raced through Vek's mind at nearly incomprehensible speeds. There wasn't a lot that could get a captain of his caliber to quiver in fear, but the threat of whatever the Central Council was about to do in order to reprimand him certainly qualified as something that evoked abject horror in the senior officer. His head hung in the grasp of his forearms, his eyes darting from side to side as he sorted through the situation he had just put himself and his crew in. What was his course of action to be? If he returned to Council space, he may be let off the hook to some extent for his admittance to his failure. However, there's no telling the extent to which they are willing to go in order to reprimand him for creating a major disturbance in the single flagship project of his entire race.
In this midst of this mental chaos, the recruits around the bridge simply stared at their monitors, managing the ship's internals and searching for anomalies like normal as if they hadn't just taken part in jeopardizing Project Genesis. However, even they could not ignore the tense atmosphere in the bridge. Everyone sat wide-eyed as they stared at their monitors, still attempting to comprehend the scope of the mistake they had just made.
As Vek'Shuul stared out into the inky darkness that surrounded them, his attention was drawn away from his doom as a plethora of colors began to dance about in the corner of his eye. Peering down at the officer who sat just to his left, he saw that said recruit appeared to be watching some sort of media on his viewscreen, although it was one that seemed completely fooreign in nature. From the captain's limited point of view, he could merely see the vague shapes of colorful landscapes populated by a plethora of creatures which he had never seen before.
"Ensign, what... is that?"
The officer's military pedigree didn't let him down, his instincts moving him to pause the video, turn his full attention to his superior officer, and remain dead-still until his next order was given. "My apologies, sire! I was combing through the footage we received from the Neuros, my liege!" he responded promptly.
"Huh..." Vek grunted in contemplation. Well, that and the prospect of finally discovering what their flagship creation had gotten up to was rather enticing. While viewing the critical information on a new species wasn't necessarily a breach of first contact protocol, it was generally frowned upon for a reconnaissance crew to get the first glance at a new species' first contact message material instead of the Council. Nonetheless, Vek doubted that he could afford another bounty on his head.
"As appealing as that seems, I urge you to refrain from watching any more of the media which we have downloaded. The last thing we want to do is dig ourselves into a deeper whole than the one in which we already are," the captain stated matter-of-factly. With a swift nod, the ensign closed the video window and returned his attention to the ship's various statistics that now cluttered his vision with a blanket of charts and diagrams. One of which was a map of their general vicinity based on lidar readings.
As Vek returned to thinking about how he was going to deal with the ramifications and the rest of the crew made like worker bees and continued their assigned functions, the very same ensign's attention was once more diverted as a gold dot appeared in the corner of the lidar chart. And gold meant only one thing.
"U-um, sire, a federal vessel seems to have dropped out of FTL 9,000 ipsums to our southeast, heading 302 degrees. They're... coming straight for us."
Vek simply sighed. "Of course they are..." He waved his hand dismissively as he stood up, bringing his levitating station down to the ground of the bridge, stepping off of his chair's platform and beginning to make his way over to the exit. "I'm going to the docking bay. Send them a greeting hail, and be nice. For all of our sakes," he continued half-heartedly as his six legs skittered at a bit of an uncomfortably speedy pace.
A resounding "Yes, my liege!" rang throughout the bridge as the ensigns acknowledged Vek's commands. All of them knew exactly what to do, and Vek's only wish was that he could say the same.