 
Star Guild

Episode Zero

by

Brandon Ellis

First Edition, August 2016

Copyright © 2016 All Rights Reserved

www.brandon-ellis.com

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

Julie Clayton, Executive Editor

"Brigger."

"I am here."

"A select group of humans have entered a new phase. They have evolved."

"Which sector?"

"Andarta System, Circinus Galaxy."

"What shall you have me do?"

"Assist them in this time of need. They are ready. Many are waking up."

"Are the Knights Templar involved?"

"In a small way."

"What impact do I bring?"

"Minimal, and keep it that way."

"I'm on my way."

"Brigger?"

"Yes?"

"Many will die."

...

...

...

"I understand."

Episode 0

S.G.A.G.

18 Years Before the Attack

A blip on the radar screen flashed on Operation Specialist Colleen Byrd's HDC, her Holographic Display Console. She held up a finger as if raising her hand in class, then dropped it to her side, garnering the Fleet Admiral's attention. She watched again as the spot pulsed on the screen. "Sir, I found it. Coordinates 149. It's fast."

Fleet Admiral Revel Sune, an ancient man and the longest tenured admiral to wear a Star Guild uniform leaned forward, arms behind his back, holding half a dozen grapes in his hand. His tall, skinny frame and thin nose didn't seem to match his thick jet-black hair. Many people thought he wore a wig, but no one knew for certain.

He plopped a grape into his mouth, squishing it between his teeth, letting the juice fill his palate. He chewed a couple of times before turning around to find his way to the admiral's chair. "We've tracked this anomaly far too long. I would appreciate it if we didn't lose it again."

He tilted back in his seat, feeling comfort from the cushion as he rested his tired muscles against it. "Have we found any schematics on this type of craft yet?"

"I haven't found anything that matches it, sir," said a young man, a recent Star Guild Academy graduate. He was practically hidden in his cramped station with piles of schematics stacked upon his desk, burying him like a mound of leaves.

"Taz Morris? That's your name, right?" questioned Revel.

"Yes, sir. Th-thank you sir for remembering my name." Taz wanted to roll his eyes. He couldn't believe he had just said something so unintelligent to the most brilliant man in Star Guild service.

Revel grinned. "Get on the com link and see if Tech Quarters has anything that resembles that bird."

Taz pressed on the com link and a small heap of papers fell to the floor. After a brief conversation, Taz shook his head, switching the com link off. "Nothing, sir. They've searched all records and blueprints."

"Can we get a visual?" asked Revel.

"Not yet. It's fast and pulling away," answered Colleen. The blip on her screen vanished. She slumped in her chair, announcing, "It's gone...again. I'm thinking they're using hyperjump capabilities."

"Get Prime Director Zim Nocki on the vid." Revel gave a sideways glance at his captain. She wasn't happy.

"How many times do you we need to get chewed out on this issue?" she asked.

Revel clasped his fingers loosely in his lap. "Sandra, it's okay. An exploration that is not controversial is unworthy of being called an exploration at all."

"And, can we bring the Prime Director on the holostage this time?" she asked.

"Too weird, too personal."

The holostage, a new and awkward technology—according to Revel—had been around for a few years and this ship, Starship Hathor, was one of the first to have it built and implemented on board. Revel had used it a couple of times, but getting the feel of a perfect hologram on a small, live stage several yards in front of him just didn't feel right. It was too real, yet he could put his hand through it and touch nothing but colored lights.

She dipped her head. "Aye, Admiral. You call the shots."

The vid screen was large, a design by one of his best students, who also happened to be Colleen Byrd's brother. It surrounded the entire bridge, acting as more of a window than a screen. It was set up with panoramic cameras, which gave the crew a full view of space around them at all times. At the moment, it showed them cresting the dark side of a moon in a quadrant that they had never investigated before. A planet—a green jewel in Revel's eyes—hung in the background.

I wonder if that planet is habitable? thought Revel.

The screen split, and a sharp-suited politician with a perfectly chiseled handsome face filled one side of the screen. He flashed his pearly white teeth in greeting. "Zim Nocki here."

"I've taken Starship Hathor to coordinates 149. We're about to enter coordinates 148," announced Revel.

"Well, that's nice," replied Zim. He took a drink, swallowing it slowly, and vacantly gazed at his cup. "Anything you need, Revel? I can see your entire crew is staring at me with trepidation. Need I remind you that this space journey of yours is classified, so you'd better not screw anything up—and no plan changes. The rest of Star Guild thinks you're still somewhere in the Andarta System, and we had already discussed sector 148. That's not part of our negotiation for this voyage of yours."

"Remember our last conversation?" asked Revel.

Zim grimaced. "Don't tell me what I don't want to hear, Rev."

Many times Zim had called Revel by his nickname—Rev. Never had he used it in front of anyone of note, especially Revel's crew. It was a firm knock on Revel's reputation and a slap in his face. Revel understood that he wasn't thought well of in the governance, and Zim ranked high within that order, but he never thought Zim had the same contempt for him as the others did. Perhaps things have changed.

Revel held his tongue and took a long breath to calm his reddening face before speaking. "We've found the anomaly again."

Zim paused for a second time, his eyes growing cold. "We've discussed this and we've discussed this at length...Rev. I've allowed your starship, and only your starship, to travel beyond the Star Guild boundaries. And as you have seen, your space exploration has turned up nothing, which I had cautioned you about." Zim sighed. "Don't make me revoke this privilege, Admiral."

"Noted, Prime Director. And you have been right on most accounts, with few exceptions. However, this anomaly we spoke of before...it's back. We believe it is a starfighter. It's fast, and we haven't seen any schematics matching its description. It's much bigger than our own starfighters."

"You haven't notified me that you ever took a visual of the craft. Why are you keeping secrets from your most important elected official?"

"We aren't keeping secr—"

"Please, Rev. Relieve yourself from command for a precious moment and let's speak privately in your Admiral's Quarters. I'll vid you there. Out."

The split screen switched to a full panoramic view. They were now crowning the moon, getting a better visual of the beautiful green jewel in the expanse beyond.

Revel nodded at Sandra. "Get the Third Mate Operations Officer on deck, pronto. He is to take my place until I get back."

"That's Brigger Murphy, sir. He's not experienced yet to be out in uncharted space," cautioned Sandra.

Revel stopped abruptly. "Brigger has to learn one way or another. Teach him the ropes. New officers from the academy are always eager to be of assistance. He'll be ecstatic."

Revel strode off the bridge and the door shut vertically behind him. He made his way down a long corridor, passing wide windows on Starship Hathor's starboard side, where the lights of the stars could be seen dotting the galaxy.

Five minutes later, after entering his personal elevator, he ascended nine stories and directly into the Admiral's Quarters. He sat at his desk and powered up his HDC.

Zim appeared on the holographic vid screen, tapping his finger on his own console. "About time, Rev."

Revel leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "I know you and I are rather informal with each other, but never in front of anyone else. I'd appreciate it if that never happened again."

Zim waved a dismissive hand. "Okay, I won't call you Rev in front of your inferiors, or anyone else. My apologies."

"Why did you need me in private?"

"I've given you six months to find life out there. You haven't come up with a damn thing. It's time to bring Hathor back."

"Why stop this when we're on the verge of something potentially important? That starfighter we spotted could mean there is life outside of our own sector."

Zim cupped his mouth, then wiped his brow, exhaustion in his eyes. "I've been up many hours watching your progress. My hope was that you would find a reason to let the money continually pour into your exploration, so we could pour more money into further explorations. Instead, the governance has realized nothing is out there beyond us, Rev. Nothing. So, why should we, the governance, continue to fund you?"

"I have a problem," Revel remarked.

"Yes, I know you want to keep—"

Revel held up his hand, quieting his superior—the only one in Star Guild and all of the governance that was higher than Revel. "I have a problem with you."

Zim stiffened. "You have a problem with me?"

"Where are the Starhawks transporting the mined ebb?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ebb is extracted by our Mechs that mine the ebb ore on planet Lumus, correct?" asked Revel.

Zim nodded.

"Then loaded onto Starhawk Transports that deliver the ebb from Lumus warehouses to our starbase—our home—which orbits Lumus, correct?"

"Are you playing a game with me? Yes, I know all of this."

"Of course I'm not playing a game, Zim. I'm playing you for informed. I'm playing you for being aware of all that goes on between Lumus and the starbase."

Zim put his hands out. "Get to your point."

"What I haven't told you is that we followed several Starhawk Transports out of our sector boundaries. All—and I mean all—eventually disappeared from radar. We see them appear on radar every so often, the last one a couple of days ago. None of them went back to Star Guild sector, and instead jumped to another sector. And then we find this anomaly—this starfighter—which we have never before seen, not in our past schematics or any current builds or designs. What in the Guild is going on?"

Zim creased his brow. "I still don't understand what you're trying to spell out here, Rev. No crafts to my knowledge have left Star Guild boundaries. However, if I find out who's breaking that law, they will be locked up and the key thrown away."

Revel leaned forward, very diplomatic-like, and intertwined his fingers. "Nothing passes your eyes without your knowledge, Zim. Nothing. So, where were those Starhawks going and what the hell is this new starfighter we saw yesterday and today?"

Zim was going to lie again, then inhaled deeply, changing his mind. "Yes, the starfighter you saw is a design you haven't seen, nor has anyone in Star Guild had any access to its schematics. And, regarding the Starhawks, the Starhawk pilots transporting the ebb are under strict orders. So yes, they leave Star Guild boundaries for reasons you're not given access to. It's highly classified."

"Even above me?"

Zim slammed his fist on his desk, spit coming out of his mouth as he roared, "Of course above you, Rev! Now leave it at that!"

Revel shook his head. "I can't, Zim. If anything occurs on my watch that goes against Star Guild law, I'm under oath to expose it and clean it up. You took that oath as well."

"This is above any oath, Rev." Zim pointed his index finger, seething. "You have know idea how much of a shit storm you'll be in if you mess with these classified operations."

"We have their jump coordinates. 166."

Zim threw his hands in the air. "If you jump to those coordinates, then I will notify them that you're on your way. I have no other choice."

"And will our reception be positive or negative?"

"Negative on many fronts. You jump to their coordinates, then my ass will get chewed out." Zim hesitated, as if he had just said too much.

"Who would chew you out, Zim? No one is above your rank."

Zim crossed his massive arms across his belly. "Don't jump. I'm warning you. In fact, your green light in this operation is gone. You're to report back to me, in person, by week's end. I'll brief you on the entire situation then."

"Week's end is in two days."

"So, I suggest you hightail it back here as fast as you can. Out."

Zim's image disappeared from the holographic screen but Revel continued staring at the blank screen in deep thought, as a hundred more questions filled his mind. What had become an exciting expedition at the beginning had turned into a chaotic web of deceit in a matter of minutes. Starhawks that had left the boundaries were no longer rogue pilots going out for a joy ride, like he had assumed. The situation was much deeper and more complicated than that. Even worse, he saw the indignation in Zim's eyes.

What's Zim hiding?

He had to find out, if not for the good of his people, then to honor his oath.

An exploration that is not controversial is unworthy of being called an exploration at all, he reminded himself.

He tapped on his com link, patching through to his captain. "Sandra, bring up the jump coordinates of the last Starhawk. Coordinates 166."

"You mean the anomaly, sir? The anomaly didn't hyperjump to Coordinates 166."

"No, the coordinates to the Starhawk's jump that we saw a few days ago."

"I don't recall, sir."

"We were witnesses together. You, me, and the crew. I'm speaking of the Starhawk Transport."

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't have any knowledge of Starhawk transports. Also, we're being called back to the starbase. I'm setting coordinates for our return home."

His home—Starbase Matrona, high above the mining planet Lumus—was the last place he wanted to be. "Are you and Zim pulling my chain?"

"I suggest you head back to the bridge, sir."

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them. This wasn't making sense. Had he suddenly been teleported to a dream? He shook his head. "I'll be there in a moment. Do not set in any coordinates until I get there. Out."

The Admiral paced his quarters for a moment, then leaned against his desk, pressing the com link again.

"This is Tech Quarters, Starship Hathor. How can I help you, Admiral?"

Tentatively, Revel asked, "Did we locate any Starhawks two days ago?"

For a moment it was silent on other end, then the Tech responded candidly, "Yes, we all saw it. And several weeks before that, as well."

"Okay, so I'm not nuts."

"No, sir."

"Can you get me the jump coordinates of the last Starhawk we observed?"

"Yes, but they are only triangulated coordinates. We haven't yet developed the technology to trace a craft from one jump to the next."

"I know. However, I feel confident of our observations and your calculations." He stood. "I'm bypassing jump orders to you. I may be contacting you when I get on the bridge, do you copy?"

"Yes sir. Are we bypassing the captain?"

"Yes."

"I need the admiral codes then."

"Admiral codes for Starship Hathor are as follows, nine-alpha-alpha-gamma-four."

"Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why are you bypassing the captain?"

"We're bypassing everyone on the bridge. You jump to those coordinates on my mark—coordinates 166, correct?"

"Correct, Sir."

∞

The door to the bridge slid open and in walked Revel, hands clenched. "OS Colleen Byrd, patch the triangulated coordinates to yesterday's Starhawk jump. And, Captain, ready my mark."

Brigger stood from the Admiral's seat, effortlessly moving to the side, allowing Revel to assume command again. Their eyes met and Brigger cautiously smiled.

Sandra didn't. "I'm sorry Admiral, but we aren't being given permission to jump, not by Zim and not by me." Sandra craned her head, eying OS Byrd. "Do not punch in the coordinates." She turned to her admiral. "By executive orders, I cannot permit you to initiate hyperjump to any sector not on the list given by Prime Director Zim Nocki."

"Admiral, permission to speak frankly with you," said Brigger.

Revel frowned. "Be quick."

"Please change your orders and let's head back to the starbase. We can always travel to these coordinates at another time."

"What is your reasoning, Brigger?"

Brigger thought for a moment, then smiled as if he was sure that what he was about to say would change any and all of the admiral's decisions regarding this hyperjump. "My feelings, sir."

Revel pushed his lips out, and looked around the room. "Your feelings?"

"I feel that what is on the other side of this jump is not good."

Sandra chimed in, "It's not good for your position in Star Guild, Revel. You'll be stripped of ranking once the Prime Director gets wind of this, and by Guild, he'll get wind."

"I feel a mutiny on the bridge," said Revel. "Is that the case?"

"No, sir," responded Sandra. "You're going against Star Guild law."

"I'm not going against Star Guild law, Captain. I'm locating Starhawks with pilots inside, that are walking all over Star Guild law. They might as well be using Star Guild law for their toilet paper. This isn't a choice, Sandra. This is a duty that you and I signed up for. If we find something of suspicion, then we report it and investigate. Zim may not like the idea now, but he will in the long run."

"Zim is not on your side, Admiral," said Brigger.

Revel locked eyes with him again, cocking his head. "Third Mate, you are dismissed."

Brigger glanced at the floor, slowly nodding. "Understood, sir." He exited the bridge.

"I'll ask one more time, Colleen. Patch in the coordinates," repeated Revel.

Colleen looked at the captain, readying her fingers to type in the coordinates on her HDC. Sandra shook her head no.

Revel stomped to a nearby HDC and pushed on the com link. "Tech Quarters, this is Fleet Admiral Revel Sune. Use the admiral's codes to override the captain's helm controls. Then, bring up coordinates 166 and patch them in. Go on my mark...now!"

"Admiral," said Sandra. "Do not override my controls. You don't know what you're getting into! Admiral, don't do this! Stop, I'm trying to save us. Stop, I'm on your si—"

The hyperjump sequence initiated and everything slowed down, as if time became a gooey, thick substance instead of a fluid stream, and everyone on the bridge seemed to stretch out—faces, fingers, noses—then all sound ceased. The vid screen lit up in white streaking stars, zooming by, becoming only lines.

An instant later, everything calmed and was right again.

But nothing was right, and Revel gasped along with the rest of the crew, except Sandra.

"Captain, what is going on?" questioned Revel.

In front of them was an armada of ships of all shapes and sizes, some pyramid and twice the size of their starship, and others disc-like, cigar-shaped, or triangular. The biggest of them wore a metallic dragon's head on the bow of the ship, warning any visitor that it wasn't to be dealt with lightly.

Before Sandra could answer, Starship Hathor trembled and shuttered. Revel fell to the floor and all schematics on Taz Morris's desk scattered across the bridge. Sparks flew and fire erupted.

Another tremor shook the deck, and as Revel pushed himself up to a standing position he stared wild-eyed at the vid screen. More photon torpedoes than he could count were inbound. He took one last breath as the bridge cracked in half, glowing like hot red coals. He glanced at the many crew members on the bridge, seeing the horror in their eyes, some scrambling to hold on to to their desks and avoid the vacuum of space. Most were too slow, swept off of their feet and out into the dark void, just as Revel was. The ship exploded into a million sparks, and then, like a blink of an eye, Revel's vision went black.

6 Months Before the Attack

Chase Byrd stood at a podium, staring out into the audience, a blaze of lights blaring down on him and shadowing the spectators from view. He could only wonder how many were in the seats in front of him. Five thousand? Ten thousand?

He didn't want to know. And, how many were watching on the vid channels? Again, he would rather focus on what's important—this debate.

A bead of sweat slipped beneath his confident facade, trickling down his sideburn and off his cheek. He took a peek at a glass of water sitting untouched on his podium.

He gestured to his opponent on the other side of the stage, pointing at him. "Prime Overseer Balan is correct. I've never been a Prime Overseer in the governance."

Chase charismatically smiled, something that seemed to make women weak in the knees, an ability that started shortly after he decided to run for Prime Overseer of Sphere Nine. Suddenly, women found him more interesting, making him wish he had made the decision to run for this position in office earlier. He was no longer in women's blind spots.

Chase continued, "For some reason, Prime Overseer Balan can't get that fact out of his mind. So, what's the bigger issue? That I haven't been a Prime Overseer or that every single vote I had as a Prime Custodian in the governance has been correct. And what was yours, Prime Overseer Balan? Seventy-three percent correct?"

"Look," Balan chuckled at the spry young man wanting to take his place in Sphere Nine, "a Prime Custodian is given exactly half the tasks as a Prime Overseer. They govern over none, while I have the responsibility of governing an entire Sphere, hundreds of thousands of people. Now, Prime Custodiun Chase Byrd can look at my percentage and gawk at it, or he can see that my voting percentage is much higher than every Prime Overseer's voting record in office today—with exception of Prime Overseer Savannah Levens." Balan's eyes narrowed and he turned to look directly at Chase. "Don't let your innocence and inexperience fool you, Chase. The burden, the long hours, and the dedication it takes to be in service to so many people is a weight not many can carry, and even though I carry it, I'm still able to be more accurate than most Overseers on the starbase."

"The votes, Overseer Balan, should always be in favor of the people you're voting for. The people voted you in office, and your voting record on many issues were clearly for other interests and not for the people. Let's take taxes, for example. You voted to raise taxes in Sphere Nine's business district by a whopping 11% in just one year. Yes, that extra money went to construction costs, building remodels, and to other important Sphere issues. It, however, also went to governances wage increases, including yours."

"And I still stand by that, Chase. Do we need to go over it again?" He paused, glancing at the moderator, wondering why the moderator hadn't chimed in yet with another question. "But, Chase likes to say this while suggesting we allocate these funds to further Star Guild exploration? As you can see, Chase seems to like the tax hike, but doesn't like where the monies are being allocated. To me, that is a contradiction."

Chase paused, then cleared his throat. He picked up a glass of water and for the first time in the debate, he took a sip. "Star Guild exploration has more benefits than not. We could find more ebb to mine, we could detect other possible life out there, and perhaps find a potential home for us, instead of this starbase. Since Planet Lumus below can't host life for us, maybe another planet can."

"Do we all need to remind Chase of the last Star Guild exploration? Does Starship Hathor ring a bell?"

Chase looked down at the podium, shaking his head. He missed his parents. They had both died on that ship and he cherished his fond memories with them. He wanted, more than anything, that his parents could be watching him on this day.

He slowly raised his eyes toward the audience he knew was behind the glare of the lights. "Yes, I know more than most about the tragedy of Starship Hathor. Star Guild Intelligence determined that it was a minor miscalculation into an asteroid belt. Prime Overseer Balon, and the rest of Star Guild law, imply that this will happen every time. We've only once explored outside of Star Guild boundaries, and it's time to open those boundaries up again. As we all know, the resources on planet Lumus below will eventually dwindle to nothing. And then, what do we have?"

"Chase is talking about hundreds of years from now. We're here today. Let's stick to what we can fix and heal today. Chase and I come from very diverse backgrounds, and I can see how his background has influenced him, just as I know all of you can. He wants to throw more money at Star Guild, when they are practically a trivial entity, not needed by the starbase any more than you need fuel for ion thrusters. It's just unneeded. I will stay focused on the tasks at hand—the tasks I can do for the people of Sphere Nine."

"Gentlemen," announced the moderator. "It's time for your closing statements. Two minutes each. Prime Overseer Sam Balan you're first, followed by Prime Custodian Chase Byrd."

"Thank you," nodded Balan. "For the last nineteen years, I've been Sphere Nine's loyal servant. When..."

Chase suddenly felt a wave of nausea consume him and the room started to spin. He clutched his podium with both hands so he wouldn't fall.

"...I promise to keep Sphere Nine..."

Chase's hands were clammy, and suddenly his body started to cool down, as if someone had just turned on the air conditioning inside the building and aimed it at him. He took a deep breath and exhaled. If he had been alone, he would have slapped his cheek or wiggled his head to bring himself back into focus. He took another sip of water.

"...Don't get me wrong. Chase is a good man, he just doesn't..."

Chase's body started to tingle, as if he wasn't getting enough oxygen, or not breathing properly. He began breathing quickly and heavily. He stepped back and took a quick peek at his opponent and gasped, shaking his head like a drunken child staring at his own parent's distorted face. And that's exactly what he saw—his mother, Operation Specialist Colleen Byrd—although, her image was distorted and laughing at him. Then the shape changed and he saw his father, also laughing and pointing at him. How could Balan be his mother and father?

What's happening?

He fell to one knee, clutching his chest. Then someone grasped his arm and tried pulling him up, but Chase's body was too weak. He fell to the floor and his eyelids became heavy.

"Chase. Keep your eyes open," said someone's voice.

"I can't...can't. Help...me."

"Chase...Chase..."

∞

Chief Petty Officer Crystal McCoy bit on a strand of her auburn hair, then chided herself and spit it out. She stood inside of her large two-ton, twelve-foot Mech—appropriate equipment for the intense gravity of the dwarf planet she was mining, planet Lumus.

She turned her body and lifted her arm, the Mech mimicking her movement. She swung her arm down and the Mech's arm followed, smashing a giant mound of greyish-red ebb rock, crumbling the mound into tiny pieces. She bent down, gathering the pieces with her Mech's robotic hands, then flung the ebb into a cart hovering next to her.

"Did you hear?" crackled a male voice over the com link.

Crystal stood, and the Mech did the same. She turned her Mech's parroting switch off, disengaging the Mech's mimicking ability. She wiped sweat off of her brow, irritably responding, "Hendricks, what is it?"

"Your ex-boyfriend passed out during a debate."

"Chase?" Her heart skipped a beat.

"You have any other boyfriends campaigning right now that I should know about?"

She eyed the landscape before her, seeing the long hills of red rock leading to the base of Gabrielle Mountain a few miles away—a mountain that seemed to go on forever into the empty blue sky.

"He passed out?" Chase was fit and usually healthy, other than the amount of booze he sometimes used to drink on the weekends—like a lot of true Star Guild jocks did—so this was a little shocking. He wasn't known to ever pass out, even when drunk. "What a dumb ass. Probably drank his butt off the night before."

"That's not what his uncle thinks."

His uncle, Fleet Admiral James Byrd, was one of the most influential people in the starbase and Star Guild Military. Crystal thought of him fondly; he was always pleasant and honorable towards Crystal when she and Chase were an item. It had been a long time though—almost six months—since she and Chase had broken off their relationship. She hadn't seen either one of them since.

"Well, his uncle can think whatever his uncle wants to. Back to work, Hendricks."

"Admiral Byrd thinks Chase's water was poisoned."

"I didn't ask. We can talk after—"

Crystal narrowed her eyes, as a blue light flickered near the base of Gabrielle Mountain, highlighting the ground all around it.

"Alright, Chief. All work, no talk. I understand," grumbled Hendricks.

"Hold on, Hendricks." She surveyed the mountain, waiting for another blue light. "Did you see that?"

"See what, Chief?"

"The blue light near the mountain?"

"Didn't see it. Why?"

Crystal shook her head. "I'm starting to see things in my old age."

Hendrick's snickered. "Yeah, 31 is so old. Try sixty three on for size, Missy."

"Hendricks, refrain from calling me anything but by my name or rank. Understood?"

"Sorry, Chief."

Another blue light pulsed from the mountain, fading away a second later.

"Now, you see that?" asked Crystal.

"I'm working, like you ordered, Chief. I didn't see it."

"Hendricks, I'm taking a break." Crystal flipped on her parrot switch and walked her Mech past the ebb mound and toward the base of Gabrielle Mountain.

"Where you going, Crystal? I don't think you're allowed to do that."

"I'll be back before you know it."

Another blue flash.

"There it is again!" she announced. "Did you see it that time?"

"No, Chief."

Crystal side-stepped a small boulder—small compared to the Mech she was in. "Is Star Guild or the Governance experimenting on anything at or near the mountain? Anything on the vid channels lately?"

"Not that I'm aware, and I'm usually aware of just about anything on the vid channels. I'm telling ya', you gotta watch The Myths of KnightsTemplar. It's a great documentary on the channels. It's incredible."

"I don't listen to myths, fairy tales, or monster stories. Sorry, Hendricks. I like to live in reality." She checked her HDC. She was only a mile to the base of Mount Gabrielle and it loomed above her, like a mother peering down at her child.

"It's just a vid show and you'd enjoy it. Your mother was being interviewed on it a few weeks ago."

"My mother is a knob. Don't believe anything she says."

"She said the Knights Templar never existed."

"Okay, believe one thing she said." She looked at her heat sensors, seeing that everything on her Mech and inside the cockpit were just fine. She veered around an embankment and headed in the direction of the flashes. "But, if you start believing anything else from her, then you're fired."

"Yeah, then you lose the greatest thing of your life—the best worker you ever had."

"Give me a break," she scoffed, cracking a slight smile.

"Throw me a bone at least once in your life, Crystal. Tell me how great a worker I am."

She rolled her eyes, "Does your wife know you talk this way?"

"Oh, she only wishes."

"You are a good worker, but you daydream too much. If you kept your eyes on your work instead of on your fantasies or fictional history, then I might be more willing to tell you what you want to hear."

"With you, Chief, there's always a but."

Crystal rounded a large face in the mountain and climbed a slight incline. She suddenly lurched back, her Mech copying her movements. Her hands windmilled in the air and she and the Mech teetered backwards and fell.

Crystal instinctively braced her head and the sounds of metal crunching ebb rock filled the cockpit, followed by a plume of dirt and dust filling her screen. The Mech was now resting peacefully on its back and Crystal hung from her restraints. She turned her head to look at the back wall of her Mech, seeing that she was only a few inches away from it.

"Crystal, you alright? I'm coming to help."

"It was just that damn blue light again. It startled me." She pushed her Mech up with the Mech's arms, finally getting to her feet. "You can settle down, Hendricks. I've gotten the Mech back up."

"And you can return now, Chief. How are you going to explain the dents and scrapes that are probably on your Mech's rear?"

"I'll worry about that later. I'm going in," she muttered in her com link.

"Going in where?" asked Hendricks.

"Inside this cave." She turned on her vid link. "You see it?"

"Yes, I know what a cave looks like. Why are you going in there?"

"That's where the blue light keeps emanating from. Something is going on and I want to find out what it is."

"Crystal, be careful. You have no idea what the Governance may be doing in there."

She carefully walked toward the cave. "So you do know there's some governance conspiracy going on? Do tell."

"There's no conspiracy. Just...I don't like you going places that are dark and creepy. Can't you just do things the way normal people do, like come back and report it?"

"Get back to work, Hendricks."

"Aye, Chief."

Crystal maneuvered around another boulder and took her first steps past the entrance of the cave, turning her slit lights on as she did and lighting up the cave as if daytime had just entered.

"This isn't a cave, Hendricks."

"What is it, Chief?"

"It's a tunnel." She lifted her arm, the Mech imitating her, and touched the smooth, rounded edge where the roof of the tunnel met the wall. "It's almost perfectly cut, but I see chisel marks or something. But, wow, whoever made this tunnel was a master. Who—"

"Are you screwing with me, Chief?"

Crystal peered down the tunnel, seeing that it turned a corner in the distance and sloped downward. She continued walking, her slit lights brightening the dark void around her. She abruptly stopped, bringing her Mech to one knee and brightened the slit lights.

"Someone's been here," said Crystal.

"How do you know?"

"A footprint."

"It wasn't my Mech's foot. I can tell you that for sure. I never knew a tunnel existed in that mountain."

"No, it's not a Mech print. It's a footprint. And I mean that literally. A print of someone's bare foot. A small, wide foot!"

"That's impossible Crystal. Anyone outside of their Mech would die in minutes, either by the dense gravity or from a lack of oxygen," replied Hendricks.

"I know. It's not like I'm saying that the owner of this footprint is still alive."

The blue light flashed around her, sweeping out of the cave and disappearing a moment later. A sudden eerie feeling crept down her spine, tingling at her low back.

Someone, or something, was behind her. She felt it. She slowly reached for her HDC and pressed the holographic button that switched camera view from the front to the back.

Blackness.

Duh, she thought. I don't have slit lights on behind me.

She repositioned her slit lights, but as they rotated to the rear, an alert filled her HDC screen.

"Malfunction?" she blurted out.

"Chief. I'm heading in your direction."

"Something's not right. I feel off in here."

"I can tell. I'm on my way."

She raised her Mech to standing position, then tried her luck on the slit lights, this time to reposition them back to the front. They complied and the malfunction warning blipped off the screen.

A thud, sounding like a large rock hitting her Mech's leg, echoed in the cockpit. Then another.

Her eyes widened and she squealed, then cupped her mouth with her hand to silence herself. She turned her Mech around, readying to face whatever it was that had attacked her.

Fully turning, she crouched, about to charge.

Nothing was there.

She heard another clang as another rock, or something else that was hard and thick hit her Mech. Again, from behind.

"What the Guild?" She leaped her Mech forward, almost losing balance, then moved her Mech's legs as fast as they could go. "I'm out of here. Something feels terribly wrong."

"Chief, I'm almost there."

"No need," Crystal exited the cave and moved around the boulder, seeing Hendricks moving quickly her way, although still almost a mile away. He slowed the instant he saw her.

"Don't worry me, Chief. You sounded panicked."

"Something was in there, Hendricks."

"Did you get a picture?"

She almost slapped herself. She had forgotten. She should have taken a picture of the bare footprint the second she had seen it.

"No. And, I'm not going back in there. Something's in there. Alive. That's not right." Her breaths were heavy, her chest damp with sweat.

"Head back to the warehouse, Chief. I'll finish your shift."

Crystal nodded. "Aye, Hendricks. And, thank you."

4 Months Before the Attack

Star Guild Cadet SGC Connor Jay pulled on the throttle, slowing his starfighter.

"Connor, you have a bogey on your six. Why are you slowing down?" asked Commanding Officer Eden Gaines over Connor's com link.

"The bad boy doesn't have me padlocked yet, Eden!"

"Stop flathatting!"

Connor grinned. "I bet the blackshoe's ain't liking this. Are they sitting behind you, enjoying the view from Starship Brigantia?"

"Dammit, Connor—"

A long beep interrupted their chatter, letting Connor know the bogey now had him on weapon's lock. In a matter of seconds, Connor would be an explosion of lights brought on by his opponent's ion cannons or photon missiles.

Perfect, thought Connor.

He pushed down on the control stick and pulled back on the accelerator at the same time—slowing down even more. The bogey flew right past him, unable to decelerate or adjust position the way Connor did. Just what Connor had planned for.

"I can't believe he fell for that," laughed Connor, coming out of a stiff underbelly loop, successfully putting him behind the bogey—a starfighter from Star Guild's Starship Sirona.

A low, muffled whisper spoke through the com link. It was Eden. "Admiral Byrd, let me remind you the Fleet Admiral, isn't happy. He left the room."

The bogey maneuvered left then right, and Chase followed the bogey as if he had a tow line connected. "This Sirona flyboy isn't very good, Eden."

"Don't let him fool you," she replied.

Connor sighed. "How did this guy make it this far?"

The Sirona pilot pulled back on his control stick, bringing his craft into a wide upward loop.

Connor mimicked the bandit's movements, looking through the top of his cockpit window, watching the bluish blaze coming from the ion thrusters that propelled the Sirona starfighter forward. On each side of them, a few miles apart from each other, Connor could see the two starships floating in deep space along with them, observing this space battle championship between their two top cadets for the annual Star Guild Academy Games—SGAG's for short.

When the bandit leveled out, Connor did as well, switching from missiles to lasers. He squeezed the trigger, then heard an explosion through the speakers in his cockpit, indicating the bogey had been hit. A moment later, an image of a chicken appeared on Connor's HDC, something the cadets on Starship Brigantia had downloaded over the Brigantia network and onto Connor's HDC as a joke for any starfighters he downed. The starfighter from Starship Sirona had 'bought the farm'. And the opponent confirmed, by tipping his wing to Connor.

"This guy has good manners, but he has a high drift factor," commented Connor. "How did he make it this far in the games? They pretty much gave us the gold medal."

"Well done, Connor," replied an exasperated Eden. "Bring your bird in. Landing bay doors are open and ready for your arrival. You'll have some happy cadets waiting for you."

Connor spun his ship around. He was less than a minute away from Starship Brigantia and pressed the landing gear's holographic button on his HDC. "Three down and welded."

"Well, I hope so. Bring her in. Tube nine."

Starship Brigantia, a starship capable of deep space explorations, held enough people for a small city, just over 10,000, along with enough food and supplies for months on end, even years—if the aquaponic farms on the ship remained in constant service without issue.

Connor brought his craft's nose toward the starship's landing bay, eying tube nine. He decelerated and the tube opened, showing the red and white lights on the inside used as a guide for pilots. Entering the tube, the tube's magnetics assumed steering and thrust, slowing the craft even more, allowing Chase to relax and let go of the control stick.

"Guild, that was easy, Eden," he said, as he unlocked his helmet's chin strap and turned off the helmet's atmospheric field generator.

"The landing?"

He flipped up his polarizing radiation visor. "No, the bandit." He chuckled. "I should take on the gal who won the games ten years ago."

"You wouldn't have had a chance against me, Connor," snickered Eden.

"Well, I broke one of your records today. How long did that last kill take me?"

"Nope, the record stands. I beat you by 2 seconds."

Connor softly bumped the cockpit window with his fist. "Man! How did I screw up that one? I had it in the bag."

"Hence, why Admiral Byrd walked out on us. You were showboating."

"Oh, it's not like he didn't showboat when he was in these games."

"You're almost at the docking bay now, so I'm out." The com link switched off.

Connor entered the last phase of the landing tube, where it lowered like an elevator onto a landing pad. Men and women wearing dark blue Star Guild military uniforms stood cheering as the platform made its descent, finally clicking in place and resting on the docking bay floor.

Connor looked around, enjoying the feeling of being revered as the cadets and officers chanted his name. He felt proud. Someday, just like his great grandfather and his deceased father, he'd be a captain, steering a starship across the vastness of space.

He closed his eyes. Who was he kidding? Star Guild stuck around in one sector and one sector only, where nothing happened except for the Star Guild Academy Games.

Then he nodded to himself. He'd change that. He'd somehow get out of this sector and to many more beyond. He'd take his people on adventures, show them exactly what he felt he intuitively knew—that life is teeming everywhere in the universe.

He pressed a button and released the pressure inside his cockpit, opening the cockpit canopy. The sound of clapping and cheering filled his ears. He stood, thrusting his fist in the air and yelling, "Brigantia! Gold medal!"

The crowd cheered even louder and he placed his hands on the railings, feeling the cold ebb metal on his palms, and quickly made his way down the ladder and onto the docking bay floor.

People gave him hugs and patted his back, enlarging his already ridiculously big smile. Not only did he win the gold, successfully continuing Brigantia's long tradition as the starship with the most wins in competition history, he also won a loot of money.

Thanking his congratulators, Connor quickly made his way out of the docking bay and to the main hallway that led to the SGAG judge's office. Even though he wanted to stay and relish the victory with all of his cadet trainees and Brigantia docking bay crew, he wanted the money more.

$25,000 bulvas in my banking account. Who said life wasn't easy?

He turned the first corner in the hallway, then stopped on a dime, his boots squeaking and scuffing the floor.

There stood Eden, eyeballing him, lips pursed, tapping her foot. She held a digital HDC pad in one hand, her other hand on her hip. He wanted to run over and kiss her high cheekbones and mess up her short brown hair, just to fool with his superior. Most of all, he wanted to take her on a date and lavish her with his winnings, because unlike Eden thought, she was a true beauty—one that most men rarely noticed. She unknowingly hid it well.

"You didn't do as well as I thought, Connor." She pressed a button on her pad and a holographic vid hovered above it, bringing in a full tactical view of the dog fight that Connor had been in no more than ten minutes ago. "Start," she said, and the hologram began to play. "Pause," she muttered, and the vid halted. "Do you see what you did here?"

Connor, standing next to Eden, looked at the vid, seeing his starfighter in a wide turn, his opponent about to easily curl in behind him.

She pointed at the image. "What starfighter type were you flying?"

Connor gave her an odd look. "Thunderbird RR7."

"The most important aspect of a dog fight with a Thunderbird is speed control."

Connor rubbed Eden's back.

She shot him an angry look. "What are you doing?"

"Just rubbing some luck on ya'," he winked. "Looks like you need it." He bit his lip. "I knew what I was doing out there, Eden. You don't need to question my motives. I won."

She sighed. "This isn't a joke, Connor. I'm your instructor, not your friend. Let me—"

Connor walked past her, smiling. He spoke over his shoulder, "I'm off to collect my winnings."

"Get back here young man!" she said, watching him walk away. She stomped her foot. "I'm not—" She stopped herself, wondering why she was acting like his mother and not his senior officer.

Connor ignored her, not worrying about the repercussions he'd receive when he got back from the SGAG's judge's room where the blackshoes were awaiting his arrival—an arrival that would be sooner than they expected. It didn't matter, he was getting his money. He couldn't care less about what they thought.

He rounded another corner, seeing happy cadets pass him, congratulating him.

"Where are you going?" a young man shouted, walking in the opposite direction down the hallway.

"To get my goods," Connor laughed.

He gave Connor a thumbs up and kept walking, disappearing around a corner.

Connor made his way to a door labeled Judges. "Open," he voice commanded the door. The door slid upwards and Connor walked in to see several astonished faces, except one.

"Sit," said Fleet Admiral James Byrd, the admiral of Starship Brigantia and admiral to the entire Star Guild fleet. Admiral Byrd wasn't one of the judges.

What's he doing here?

The room was filled with men and women in black shoes and Star Guild dark blue uniforms, differing only according to their rank. They were standing around, most with their hands cupped behind their back as if they had stood in that position most of their lives.

Connor glanced down at his brown cadet boots, hoping he'd never find himself in their shoes someday. "Admiral?" He sat in a chair in the middle of the room, where a long table sat in front of him and two tables sat on either side of him. All of the men, including Admiral Byrd, sat.

The admiral held up a bulva card, which was always given to the winner of the annual SGAG's. "This 25,000 bulva card doesn't belong to you."

Connor about fell out of his seat, feeling the blood drain from his face. "What...why?"

The admiral nodded at the corner of the room where a side door was located. It opened.

In walked a man, looking very much like a Techie, and from the sight of his uniform, he was definitely from Tech Quarters. The man had on large rimmed glasses far bigger than he needed, resting on his long nose. His thin, scraggly hair was swirled on top of his head, an attempt to hide his balding.

His eyes were stone cold and almost lifeless. He had definitely spent one too many hours in front of the HDC monitors and a lot less time in the gym. Connor wondered if the guy only ate pastries, and only on a few occasions a week, because of his his skinny build and tawny skin.

The man sat down in a seat next to Admiral Byrd.

"Connor," said the admiral. "This is Ted Bays. Those in Tech know him as Sleuth."

Connor nodded, still not knowing what this was about.

"Ted, I mean Sleuth, found something very important," continued Admiral Byrd. "Please explain, Sleuth. The rest of the judges would like to hear."

One of the judges cleared his throat and then nodded. "Begin," he said. "I would like to know what's going on."

Sleuth gave a half-grin, then folded his hands in front of him. "I'm not going to sugar coat this: SGC Connor Jay, I'm going to give it as we in Tech have seen it. You cheated and I have proof."

Connor jumped out of his seat, slamming his fist into his own thigh. "The Guild I did!"

"Sit down, SGC!" growled Admiral Byrd. "Behave like a cadet."

Connor sat back down, fury in his eyes. "Yes, sir."

"It seems you and your young, inexperienced cadet friends wanted to try on the Techie label for a while. We have clear evidence that you and your friends have infiltrated Starship Sirona's mainframes, manipulated the weapons deployment and thrust capacity of Sirona's top cadet's starfighter. How you got this around us in Tech Quarters is a mystery," stated Sleuth.

Connor shook his head, his eyes becoming more innocent and wide. "I didn't do anything like that. I don't even know how to do something like that."

"That's why you had your friends help you. Show them the vid, Admiral Byrd," ordered Sleuth.

Admiral Byrd pressed a few holographic buttons on his table. A hologram lifted from the table, showing a three dimensional view of Connor with two friends working feverishly on an HDC.

"Zoom in to their HDC, admiral," barked Sleuth.

The vid zoomed in, showing exactly what was on the HDC. There, they could see a blueprint of a Thunderbird in the RR7 class, with the words Sirona and SGAG typed on the upper portion of Connor's HDC screen. They were clearly manipulating the blueprint, changing pressure gauges on the thrust capacity of the Thunderbird, and slowing weapon deployment from immediate to half a second slower.

"I'm being framed or set up, or something. I've never seen that blueprint before and I don't even know how to pull that up on my HDC," said Connor.

"You are disqualified, SGC Connor Jay," responded Admiral Byrd.

"No, you can't do that. Don't I get a fair trial? This is absurd," complained Connor. "I didn't cheat!"

Admiral Byrd's face was emotionless, as if he'd done this many times before. "This is Star Guild. I'm law here, son."

"I'm going to fight this!" seethed Connor.

"And, you'll lose." Admiral Byrd nodded at all attendees, then gestured at the side door where Sleuth came in. "You all have witnessed and may leave now." He handed the Bulva card to another judge, saying, "Hand this to the Sirona cadet who wrongfully lost today. He deserves this."

"Yes, sir."

They all walked out of the door, Sleuth behind them all. He gave Admiral Byrd a thank you gesture just before the door shut behind him.

Connor went to get up, but Admiral Byrd had other ideas.

"Sit, cadet."

Connor, slightly defeated, slumped back down in his chair. His arms crossed as he leaned forward. "I won't back down, sir. I'll prove my case."

"You fly with a cleverness and a improvisation that I admire, and I wish all my pilots had the same genius as you. This is why you were chosen."

"Chosen to be lied to? This is absolute..." he cut himself off and exhaled in exasperation. He glanced down at his brown boots, then scanned the floor across to the boot's Admiral Byrd was wearing. They were brown as well.

"Don't worry, you'll get your money," said Admiral Byrd.

Connors eyes shifted from the admiral's boots to the admiral's eyes. "What?"

"I said, you'll get your Bulvas. Just, hear me out."

"I'm confused. First I don't get the prize money, now I get the prize money? What's going on?" Then he broke into a big grin and looked around. "Am I being pranked? I knew it. I'm being pranked."

"You're not being pranked, you're being used. But I used you for certain reasons that I see in your flying. I need your improvisation, just as Star Guild needs your clever and ingenuous mind. You're not getting your prize money. You're getting more than that."

Confused, Connor asked, "Permission to speak frankly, Admiral?"

"As if you haven't already, but permission granted."

"What in the Guild is going on? If this isn't a prank, then why are you ruining my damn day and potentially my future? I just won the SGAGs for you and our starship."

"SGAGs don't mean much, other than to appease the masses and distract them from bad political decisions and secret governance acts passed without much outcry, other than from myself of course. If you saw what political crap we went through during the month of our annual SGAGs, you'd want to slap every governance official you saw."

Connor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his jaw tightening. He could feel anger growing in his belly. "I don't get it. So, are you using me for political gain?"

"I apologize, cadet. In time you'll see what you will have done for all of humankind. And to calm you down—if I can—it's not for political gain. At all. You'll be given more money than your win today and from my own bulva reserves. It will also be more than you'd ever be given as a pilot in the Star Guild Fleet." He paused, looking Connor dead in the eyes. "You'll be going underground."

Connor rubbed his temple. "Umm..."

"The Techie you just saw, Sleuth, is a liar and is working for someone who isn't in this for the ultimate service of humankind. If you think I believed his contrived story and his made up vid of you and your friends for a minute, then I'm a better actor than I thought I was. I need to understand why he is undermining your victory in the SGAGs, for one, and I need to find out exactly what he's doing and for whom. There are many things that are coming from his HDC that are encrypted data streams and going to places that we can't find, and I've given up on all of my silly hackers in the military. They are useless and can't expose Sleuth's data streams, or perhaps don't want to."

Connor scratched his chin. "I'm not getting it. You want me to expose Sleuth and get his encrypted data? I just know HDC basics. I can't do that stuff."

"I know. That's not what I'm getting at. You'll be paid by me to get out of the limelight, to go places where I ask you to go to, to fly outside of Star Guild boundaries—all undercover. Not even Prime Director Zim Nocki will know. You'll be honorably discharged and ranked as a civilian."

"Why?"

"You can't be in service any more if you choose to accept this new position. You must lead an ordinary life. You'll be given a part-time job from home, most likely working for a friend of mine."

"I don't know about this. My entire family line has been captains in the military. I'll be letting everyone down. I'll be giving it all up. What if this doesn't work? What will I have?"

Admiral Byrd pondered for a moment. "By the time you're one year into this, you'll have more money than most starfighter jocks make their entire lifetime. You'll be set."

Connor's eyes brightened. "I see."

"Most importantly," responded Admiral Byrd, "I need to know exactly what happened with Admiral Revel Sune, and how Starship Hathor really died. You'll be my eyes and ears. You are the path to uncovering the truth about what is going on with Sleuth and others that are involved. I have a bad feeling about all of this. I mean to expose Zim and the governance."

Connor leaned back, his young mind racing and his heart pounding. "I'll be flying around and looking for evidence?"

"You'll be discovering new worlds, new materials, new evidence of the suspected asteroid belt that killed Starship Hathor—if there really is a belt in that sector."

Connor shrugged. "How many bulvas we talking?"

"25,000 bulvas per mission."

"How many missions?"

"A lot."

He held out his hands. "A lot?"

"Ten plus missions a year, perhaps more."

Connor blinked a couple of times. That's more than any Star Guild pilot had ever made, and will ever make. "Alright," he decided. "When do we start?"

Admiral Byrd thought for a moment, then rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's just say I'll be in contact. You'll receive a communication the day each mission begins. I'll brief you on the mission, and you'll find evidence where they say there is none. Got it?"

"So, I'm on call."

"You're in service to all of humankind. If that's on call for you, then you're on call." Admiral Byrd stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet the press about this. They're going to make you look like a monumental piece of Guild. But I'm going to tell them that you had nothing to do with it, and that it was some unnamed cadet Techies that were having a little fun. You'll still be considered the best pilot in ten years, but not the winner of these games. That will go to the young cadet on Starship Sirona." He placed his hand in his military issued coat pocket, digging out a small envelope. He tossed it to Connor, who easily caught it in his hands. "That's 10,000 bulvas to start. The rest will come after the mission and that's how we'll do things, okay?" He didn't wait for a reply, saying, "SGC Connor Jay, you're dismissed."

3 Months Before the Attack

Brigger stepped into Admiral Byrd's quarters as the vertical door slid shut behind him.

"Sit," ordered Admiral Byrd, reading a communication on his HDC, too busy to look up.

"Yes, Admiral." Brigger sat down on the other side of the admiral's desk, his hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently.

Admiral Byrd pushed the power button on his HDC, shutting it off. He leaned back in his chair. "We have an opening for First Lieutenant on the bridge. First Lieutenant will oversee and help the Commanding Officer of Starfighter Division with launching and landing bay crews by doing administrative tasks, such as scheduling work, quality control, coordinating other departments, and conflict resolution. If by chance the captain, the Third Mate and I all die on the bridge, or off of the bridge, First Lieutenant takes over the bridge and commands Starship Brigantia." Admiral Byrd paused, staring at Brigger as if he was searching Brigger's soul. "You applied for this position. From your records, it indicates that you are qualified."

"I am here to serve and protect the people of Starbase Matrona and the military personnel of Star Guild. And to assist you in whatever you desire," replied Brigger.

"I was looking through your files and it says you were stationed as a Third Mate Operations Officer on Starship Hathor. Is that correct?"

"That is. Though, I don't have much more than six month's experience on a ship. And, during those six months I sat around a lot."

Admiral Byrd chuckled. "I don't see how that is possible, Brigger. If you served during the time that the file indicates, then you should be dead, and for eighteen years now, along with my mentor Fleet Admiral Revel Sune. Are you fooling with us and the Star Guild system?"

"No, I am not," said Brigger. "Is it rare for a person of your race to survive an explosive event like that?"

Admiral Byrd pointed at his own chest. "A person of my race?"

"Yes, what I should ask is this: do your bodies expire so easily?"

"Excuse me?" The admiral put both hands on his desk, saying under his breath, "You're not right of mind."

Brigger glanced down, feeling that what he said must be quite contrary to human customs or questions. He closed his eyes, waving his hand in the air. He opened his eyes, satisfied to see that the Admiral was expressionless, but fixed on Brigger's hand movements.

Brigger took in a deep breath, intoning, "You will forget this conversation has ever happened, Admiral, and you will feel compelled and happy to hire me, knowing that whatever our conversation was, it went well. When the time comes, and when I signal you on the bridge, you will call upon the Knights Templar. However, in this moment, when I stop waving my hand, you will come back to now consciousness."

Brigger dropped his arm in his lap, ceasing his strange hypnotic hand movements.

Admiral Byrd blinked a couple of times, feeling a bit woozy, then stretched out his hand to Brigger's. They clasped and shook.

"Thank you Brigger. You're hired. Report to Starship Brigantia's Human Resource department immediately." Admiral Byrd opened a desk drawer and took out a piece of paper. At the bottom of a page of verbiage he signed his name on a dotted line. "Hand this paper to the department intake personnel. I'm pleased you're aboard this ship. You may go now."

Brigger smiled. "I'm grateful for this opportunity. Thank you, Admiral."

The admiral smiled back, something he rarely did. "No, thank you."

Suddenly, Chase's voice sounded through the intercom.

"May I come in, Uncle?"

Admiral Byrd spoke, "Open."

"Hello," greeted Brigger, standing and extending his hand.

Chase took it, smiled his charming smile, asking, "And, you are?"

"I'm just leaving. My name is Brigger. Nice to meet you." Brigger gave a glance at Admiral Byrd before he left, smiling brightly.

Chase sat, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Who was that overly nice gentleman?"

The Admiral shook his head, much like a dog shaking water off after a bath. He rubbed his eyes and coughed a few times, then blurted out, "What did you ask, Chase?"

Chase ran a jerky hand through his hair. "Are you okay, uncle?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine." Admiral Byrd started rubbing his hands against his pant legs, then yawned.

Chase half stood, his knees slightly bent. "Do you need me to get some help?" He gestured toward the door.

"Water?" asked Admiral Byrd.

"Right in front of you, uncle." Chase sat back down, pushing the water more in the admiral's direction. His uncle picked it up and downed it in several large gulps.

"I can get some help. You don't look well. You're becoming white."

"No, no, no. I'm fine. Stay here, Chase."

Chase nodded. "So...you asked to see me?"

"I did." Admiral Byrd coughed again. "I wanted to talk to you about your fainting spell."

Chase tightened. "That was several months ago. Next time, ask me my thoughts on the situation before you speak to the media, please?"

"You said my allegations of poisoning weren't founded on any logical reasoning. They blared that over the vid channels, too."

"And I stand by that."

Admiral Byrd crossed his arms. "I've been in governance for far too long, Chase. I saw through the tactic."

"You're suggesting that my opponent was trying to kill me?"

"No, I suggested that your opponent tried to poison you."

Chase leaned forward, pointing his finger at the admiral. "That was plastered all over the vid channels and the news files. How do you think that made my campaign look?"

Admiral Byrd dropped his arms in his lap, letting out a sigh. "It made you look like a fool. I know. I apologize, Chase. It wasn't my intention. I just know governance like the back of my hand. If anyone tries to hurt—"

"You're not even in the governance, uncle."

Admiral Byrd hesitated for a moment, studying his young, testosterone-filled nephew. He breathed in deeply, letting out an exhale. He had to remind himself that Chase was only in his thirties, still trying to find his voice and his way in life, and looking for a stepping-stone in his career.

"Chase, please understand that I'm a tier above the governance officials and just below Prime Director Zim Nocki. I know how it works and I've dealt with this business for eighteen years now. When I see something important, I'm not going to act blind and ignore it."

"So you say something so ill-founded that it makes you look like the biggest joke and laughing stock on the starbase and in all of Star Guild military. You're the admiral for Guild sakes." Chase stopped himself, knowing that berating his uncle, let alone a top military official, was neither kind nor necessary. He cupped his hands. "I apologize for being rude and talking to you like a kid, uncle, I just don't—"

"I had the glass tested, Chase."

Chase paused, leaning back in his seat. "What glass? The one I drank from on the podium? The one in the debate?" He knew the answers to his questions, and continued, his brows raised. "And?"

"It was poisoned. Not enough to kill, but enough to do what it did."

Chase put his hand up. "Do not do anything, uncle. Please. I'm going to win this my way. I'm going to win this. Do you understand? I'm going to win this fair and square."

Admiral Byrd flared his nostrils. "He's not playing fair, Chase!"

"But I am." Chase got up. "Open," he snarled, and walked out of his uncle's quarters and down the hall. "Do nothing!" he barked, without looking over his shoulder.

Admiral Byrd stared at his nephew, wanting to hug him more than lecture him, but sometimes winning fair in the governance just didn't cut it and the Admiral knew it and knew it well.

Chase disappeared around the corner and the Admiral pressed a few buttons on his HDC, bringing up his com link.

A voice came online. "It's been far too long, Fleet Admiral James Byrd."

"It's James to you, Prime Overseer Savannah Levens. And, it's only been two hours."

"I know. For me, that's too long. And—it's Savannah to you." There was a flirtatious tone in her voice. She liked to tease the admiral for many reasons, one reason she would never tell him, the other reason was to put him at ease and hopefully make him smile, or better yet, to make him blush. "Shall we send the lab results to the press? I have a journalist waiting madly for any type of news."

"Don't bring him any news."

"It's a her, and why not?"

"I just spoke with Chase; he wants nothing to do with any scandal. He wants to win this campaign race his own, fair way."

"Ahh, so he's like his uncle, I see."

"And, like you, Savannah."

"We made it our way—the honest way—and so will he," she replied.

The Admiral frowned as other thoughts outside of Chase entered his mind. "There's something going on, Savannah. And, I don't think my being honest about it is going to get me anywhere."

"Oh? I'm not quite understanding, Admiral."

"I'm on a lead, Savannah. I'll let you know more about it later."

"Does it have anything to do with the poison?"

"Perhaps, although I fear it is something bigger, but I haven't uncovered everything."

"I see," she said. "You are always straight up and honorable with me, James, so I will trust you on this one. Is there anything you need from me? Can I help in any way?"

"Yes. I need you to protect my nephew. He is naïve, much like we were. Things are changing here in the governance and in Star Guild. It's becoming more dangerous than it has ever been and he needs a patrol around him at all times watching those who might be watching him. But Chase must not be aware of this patrol. Do you understand?"

"Completely. I'll send Sphere 6's best. My security details are to be trusted."

"Thank you, Savannah."

Admiral Byrd clicked off the com link, then peered out at his open doorway and down the hall, seeing no one coming or going. He spoke, "Close," and the door shut. He turned in his chair and stared out of the large port windows and into space, touching his chest, squeezing a pendant that was under his shirt.

Make Chase safe; of all people, make him safe.

2 Months Before the Attack

Connor stared at a book his mother gave him right before he left for Star Guild Academy a few years ago. It was titled Be Love, by Anonymous. There were many books by this anonymous character and Connor had done little to read through any of Anonymous's books, especially this one.

He opened it, seeing the first chapter's titled, To Be. He read the first sentence.

To Be is the ultimate Love. To Be is To Be You—fully. When you let things go, let them flow, then the Universe opens up to you in a way a rose opens up to the sun. The only way love is allowed to stream inside of you without blockage is To Be, and To Be is To Allow. In one way, Love just happens and just is. In another way, it can only happen inside of you if you Allow it freedom to express itself through you. The best—

Connor closed the book, slouching in his chair. He wasn't too into his mom's strange ways, but his mom did seem to love most others and even herself, relentlessly, so perhaps these books by Anyonymous had something to them. Or, maybe the reason his mother was so nosy was because of these books. Who knew?

He placed the book on a cardboard box, then stared at all the boxes around him. Most were still not unpacked.

This was his first day in this plush apartment. He had just moved from a two month temporary housing situation set up by the admiral in Sphere 3's East Side blocks and was now in this attractive West Side building, closest to the giant biosphere that sat in the middle of the starbase. This biosphere fed all the streams and rivers that flowed through each and every Sphere, and supplied all the oxygen for the starbase, pumping it via a strange process with giant trees and salt lake planktons that Connor never quite understood. The biosphere kept the starbase and its inhabitants alive. It fed them, quenched their thirst, and was their main source of nature and beauty.

He eyed a yellow piece of paper on another box in the kitchen and walked over, picking it up. It was something he had read several times on this day. It was his rent invoice that itemized his four bedrooms, two baths, a hot tub, and a sauna, along with a view of the entire main city. The price: 3,000 bulvas a month.

He sighed. It had cost nothing to live at Star Guild Academy, but at the Academy he had to share a room. It cost nothing to stay in the temporary housing he was just in, but there he could feel, hear, and see dysfunctional people everywhere. At least here, in his new and expensive living arrangements, he could sleep, cook, and breathe without anyone else bothering him.

Why didn't I just get a studio costing me a fraction of this? This better pan out.

He let the paper slip from his fingers, watching it glide across the air, then slide across the ebb rock tile where it landed. It had been months, and so far all he had to show for his agreement with Admiral Byrd was this apartment. He had left his friends, lost his cadet ranking in Star Guild Starfighter Division, and his place in Star Guild vanished altogether. And even though Admiral Byrd cleared his name with the cheating scandal in the SGAG's, there was still the suspicious gaze from others. To make things worse, no one would know of his discharge from Star Guild Military. He'd just disappear and dissolve into the civilian masses, acting like one of them for the rest of his life. Whatever legacy he could have had was gone, deleted, along with his dreams of the future.

Why did I agree to this? Why so easily?

Money.

He wanted to cry, feeling that his new role in life, and what he agreed upon with the admiral, was not a wise choice. Not at all. He should have fought tooth and nail against the allegations and lies against him in order to remain a Star Guild pilot.

He leaned his hip against the kitchen counter, his head drawn low, his eyes welling up. He ran his fingers through is hair, wondering how disheveled it was, being that it had been more days than he could remember since he'd even thought of taking a shower.

The com link buzzed, and he softly spoke out loud, "Answer." The com link turned on.

"Where have you been?"

I need to start screening my calls, he thought. "Hi, Ma."

"What's the matter?"

"How did you get this number?"

"Star Guild headquarters gave it to me. Your other number isn't working. So, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, why?"

"I can hear it in your voice, Connor. What's going on? Are you still sad about the SGAG's?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you didn't cheat and you shouldn't feel ashamed about it. How is your roomie?"

"Who?"

"Marty. How is Marty? He was such a nice guy when I met him. Did he pass starfighter training?"

"Mom, his training test was over a year ago."

"Well, did he pass?"

"Yeah."

"You're still rooming with him, aren't you? Such a nice guy."

Connor looked around, seeing the apartment glow with space, much more than even a family of four needed, and of course, he didn't see Marty.

"Connor?" asked his mom.

"I'm here, Ma."

"Well?"

"Yes, I'm still rooming with him here at Star Guild Academy."

"When you graduating, dear?"

He wanted to tell her everything, tell her that he would never graduate, and that he would never wear a Star Guild uniform ever again, but he couldn't. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't living at Star Guild Academy anymore, and that he had been tricked to give up everything, and from this day forward, he would live a lie for the rest of his life.

"I'm postponing that, Ma."

"Why would you do something like that?"

Connor started pacing. He wasn't good at lying and it never came natural to him, so he just didn't do it. But today he had to, and yesterday, and the weeks prior, he had to. And, from now on, for the rest of his existence—he had to.

"I'm extending my college career here for another four years to become an—"

"Four years? What are you nuts? I've never heard of such a thing."

"It's to become an officer, mom." He started stroking his hair with his hand, tugging at the back of his head at every lie he gave to the woman he loved most in the universe.

"Oh, I see. To become an admiral or something? A captain just isn't good enough for you, honey?"

"It's good enough."

"You know, all of your ancestors in the Jay line—"

Connor nodded his head up and down as he continued to pace, interrupting his mother. "I know, I know. We are always captains."

"You don't need to go to officer training for that, Connor."

You did, but Connor didn't correct her. "I know."

"Why is it so quiet there? It's never quiet there."

Connor squeezed the skin on the back of his neck. "Mom, 'cause Marty is sleeping. And, I have to go, Ma, okay?"

"You just don't sound right, dear."

"Mom, I gotta go. They need me."

"Alright. I want to come and visit soon."

"Mom, you're not well. You can barely walk. I'll visit you, okay?"

"Alright, but soon."

"Yes, soon. Bye, Ma."

"Bye, dear. I love you so very much. You make me proud."

The com link clicked off, and not a moment later did it buzz again. He rolled his eyes. "Answer," he bellowed. "Mom, I will come visit you soon, okay?"

"I've never been called Mom in my life. It makes me feel...mmm...feminine."

The voice was low and thick, confident.

"Admiral Byrd?"

"It's time. Pack your bags. You're leaving at 1300 hours."

Connor looked at the clock. "It's 1100 hours now."

"That's right. You got two hours. Meet me in Matrona's Sphere 1 docking bay. We're docked there."

"Who is docked there, sir?"

"Starship Brigantia."

"Sir, they won't let me on that ship, let alone even travel to that Sphere. I'm no longer with Star Guild, as you well know. I can't get into Sphere 1 without security clearance."

"Check the left drawer in your bathroom. I'll see you in two hours. Out."

"Admiral? Admiral?" No answer.

Connor went into the bathroom and opened the left drawer. There he saw a note, electric hair clippers, and an ID badge, with the name Sonny Jones printed on top. The only problem with the ID was that it didn't have a picture on it, let alone a picture of himself.

He read the note: Cut your hair off completely. Stare at the ID badge for ten seconds until it takes a picture of you and images on the ID badge. Then go to the hoversation and catch a hovertrain to Sphere 1. You'll be escorted to me upon exiting Sphere 1's hoverstation. Signed, Admiral Byrd.

"How did he know I was here? How did he know I was going to move here?" he questioned.

Connor took the clippers and stared at the mirror. His eyes were tired and shadows sat under each one. He hadn't slept much and he could tell by his sunken cheeks that he hadn't eaten much lately, either. Plus, his dark skin didn't radiate like it used to and his thick hair was unkempt and in need of a cut. He had lost touch with himself and with his usual Star Guild diet and workout routine.

The door to his apartment suddenly opened. Loud and fast footsteps came down the hallway toward him. Connor peered around the bathroom doorway and saw two heavy-set men about his height, advancing. The one in the back had a phaser, the one in the lead had an ebb crowbar.

Connor dropped his clippers. "Can I help you?"

The man in front was now a couple of feet away. He bared his teeth and squinted his eyes, then swung the crowbar at Connor, grunting in the process.

Connor ducked and the crowbar smashed into a portion of the ebb frame of the doorway, cracking and chipping the thin ebb material.

Connor's adrenaline kicked in and he pushed the large man, then kicked at him with a straight leg, connecting to the man's chest and he fell against the man in the rear.

It did little, but bought him a few seconds.

"Get down, Roj!" growled the man with the phaser, pointing his gun at Connor. His companion ducked, opening a clear shot.

An almost silent blast, imitating the sound of someone quickly sucking in air, filled the hallway. Then another. Connor naturally covered his body with his hands and arms, curling up into a ball, spinning away, and doing his best to protect his vital organs from being sliced through by phaser fire. He fell to the floor, hearing one thud, then another.

"Get up. We have to leave now."

Turning around Connor saw the two large men on the floor, unconscious or dead. He didn't know which and at that moment he didn't care. He glanced up to see a man in Star Guild uniform, holding a phaser of his own. He was clearly a Marine, and a Marine he knew well.

"Sergeant Manning?"

"Aye, cadet. Get up. We don't have much time." Manning gestured toward Connor's front door.

Connor looked down at the two men. "Are they dead?"

Manning tapped his gun with his other hand. "I had it on stun."

Connor nodded, his heart still racing. "But I need to pack. Admiral Byrd told me to pack."

"None of what Admiral Byrd said or wrote was what Admiral Byrd wanted you to do." Manning walk down Connor's hall and out his front door, finding himself in the main hallway of this building's floor.

Connor followed him, shaking his head. "Wait! What?"

"Stop questioning, we gotta go." Manning headed down a flight of steps, halting on the next landing, waiving Connor to come with him, then he disappeared down another flight of steps.

Connor shrugged and headed down the staircase, wondering why they just didn't use the elevator.

When they came to the street level door Manning pushed it open, ushering in daylight.

"In!" ordered Manning.

"In?"

Manning grabbed Connor's arm and pulled him toward a hovercar. "Yes, get in."

The hovercar was black, long and slick, and was parked in a hover on the side of the street and next to the sidewalk. Hovercars zoomed by one after another, their reflections streaming on the long mirrored windows of the big skyscraper across the street.

Manning opened the hovercar's back door, practically pushing Connor onto the long and soft rear seat. The door then slammed and Manning opened the driver's door, jumping in.

"Get your restraints on. We're heading to Shadow Watt's place."

Connor belted himself in. "Where?"

Manning looked over his shoulder. "You'll see. It's just off of West 9th and Glisan."

"But that's across town. We need to get to Sphere 1."

Manning started the hovercar and pressed on the gas, lurching it forward at an incredible speed. "Admiral Byrd doesn't want anyone knowing where you're going. They're watching Admiral Byrd, so everything he said to you on the com link and everything written to you on that letter, was all a lie. You're heading someplace no one knows about."

"Who's watching him?"

Manning shrugged. "We don't know yet. But it's a group that doesn't have humanity's best interests at heart."

"Sleuth?"

"That asshole is part of it, we think. The other part is most likely Zim."

"The Prime Director?"

Manning chuckled. "Do you know of any other Zim?"

Connor slapped his hand against his forehead. Not good!

Admiral Byrd made a comment to him month's earlier about Zim, but Connor didn't take it too seriously. His mind had been on the money, not the missions.

The money.

It was a lot. It was more than a lot. He could live comfortably for years with just a couple missions under his belt.

But what's the point? he thought.

If he couldn't spend any of the money he earned, since he'd probably be on some evil group's death list from this point forward, doing their best to find him and track his movements, then these missions would only get him in deep trouble. In order to stay safe, he couldn't expose himself, couldn't buy expensive things, let alone live in highrise apartments. He'd have to be in hiding. He'd have to live as if he didn't exist. He couldn't visit his mom except under cloud of midnight.

What the Guild did I sign up for?

He signed up for hell.

Manning pulled the hovercar over. "We're here."

The ride from his apartment to here only took five minutes, so where Manning stopped clearly wasn't on the Westside. "This isn't West 9th and Glisan."

Manning put his finger to his lips, saying, "We're safe here. Get out."

When Connor exited the hovercar he saw the admiral with his arms folded and standing outside the entrance of a vacant warehouse—several windows shattered with the paint peeling off the outside walls. The warehouse leaned as if it were about to fall over.

Manning gestured toward Admiral Byrd. "Go, please. I'm taking off once you get inside."

Connor nodded and headed over to Admiral Byrd, about to salute, then realized he was a civilian now, never to salute again.

The Admiral opened a clanky, loud squeaking door and motioned for Connor to walk into the warehouse. "Sorry for the surprises, Connor."

"It's okay, sir."

The admiral shut the door and Connor immediately smelled mold and rust. The daylight that leaked through the holes in the roof showed hundred-year old equipment scattered around the warehouse.

"This way, Connor."

They walked to the far side of the warehouse and came to two large doors.

"I'll need help with these," said Admiral Byrd, reaching for one of the door's thick handles. "You grab the other one and pull hard."

Connor grasped the other handle and walked backwards, slowly moving the door. "Why are these so Guildin' heavy?"

"To dissuade anyone from entering past this point." Admiral Byrd gave a last tug. "That's fine right there. Step through."

The Admiral led the way, sliding sideways between the two doors, sucking in his gut. Connor followed.

Down a short hallway they came upon a small garage door with a chain on one side of it. The admiral tugged on the chain, crossing one hand over the other as he pulled down, opening the garage door.

"Step in," said the Admiral, walking inside.

Connor stepped in. "Where are we going, sir?" He looked around the over-sized elevator, probably used for large equipment in the past.

"You'll see." He pressed a large red button and they started to descend.

Admiral Byrd started whistling and Connor folded his hands in front of him and looked down at his feet—the silence was a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

The admiral continued to whistle.

After a few long minutes the platform clanked and shuddered to a stop. Admiral Byrd pulled on a chain again, opening a different door.

Connor mouth gaped open. "What the Guild?"

"Welcome to Shadow Watt's layer," smiled Admiral Byrd.

Connor had never heard of Shadow Watt, but by the looks of things, this guy was beyond rich. Underneath the city, and unbeknownst to Connor and probably 99.9% of the inhabitants of Starbase Matrona, was a palace with white columns and a twenty-foot ceiling, as well as a small stream running through the place, and to top it off, a small bridge arching over the stream.

Connor stepped onto the luxurious white palace flooring that was streaked with pretty specs of gold and clear rocks that glittered.

A lone man sat on a red sofa in the middle of what could be called a living room, except the room was the size of an average family's house. A huge HDC screen covered his walls, and a large HDC sat near the red couch on a large and intricately designed desk.

The man wore glasses, was balding, and had a long beard.

"Welcome," said the man. He adjusted his glasses and spoke ominously. "I'm Shadow—and you will never, ever speak my name. And you will never tell anyone about this place." Then he stood and briskly walked over to Connor and pumped his hand enthusiastically. "I'm glad you volunteered."

Connor pinched his lip and looked up at Admiral Byrd.

"Mr. Watt, our friend here is not volunteering. I pay him for his services," said the admiral.

Shadow grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I like you even more now, Connor." He put his arm around Connor's shoulders and led him to the HDC in the middle of the room. "Sit."

Connor sat at the HDC desk as Shadow pressed various holographic buttons.

The vid screen that circled the room lit up and displayed a vid shot of a black starfighter covered with shimmering mirrors. The starfighter had a very long, streamlined nose and small wings with two rounded ion thrusters underneath each one. It was larger than the Thunderbird RR7 he used to fly, though the cockpit looked much smaller. The mid section, on the other hand, looked a lot roomier.

"What you see in front of you is called Black. No other craft exists like it. I created this years after my friend Revel Sune passed away on Starship Hathor. We were designing this thing together, rest his soul, and since I'm wealthier than shit, I decided to finish it myself."

"What do you mean, by yourself?" asked Connor.

"The only help I received were from my trusted machines that welded, lifted, and put the pieces in place for me. Other than that, I did the rest. It's built with love. You, the admiral, and I are the only ones who know this exists."

"And," added Admiral Byrd, "this is the ship you'll take to run your missions for me."

Connor eyed the starfighter for some time. "How do we know it will even fly?"

"I've been flying it for years, my friend," responded Shadow.

Connor's smirked. "If you've been flying it for that long, then all of Star Guild would know about your special starfighter here."

Shadow Watt leaned in, quietly saying, "Do you see those mirrors?"

Connor nodded.

"They cloak the starfighter. The design reflects any transmitted radar energy waves at angles that are unlikely to include a track back to the radar. However, that doesn't matter so much, because the radar energy wave, or signal, simply gets absorbed into those mirrors as well, not bouncing any signal back to the radar. We are essentially invisible, even from the naked eye, as the mirrors also reflect space around it. So, if you're flying out there, such as in the SGAGs, and let's say for example that I had flown only ten meters from you during your last dogfight against that Sirona pilot, then you'd only see my ship as the black space and stars that were reflected off of those mirrors."

"But how do you get past any Star Guild personnel to launch this? You would have to have incredible security clearance to get into Sphere 1."

Shadow eyed the admiral. They both gave each other a knowing look. "Follow us, Connor. We start our mission today," announced Shadow.

"Today?"

Shadow gave a short laugh. "You got it, buddy. Today." He pressed another button on the HDC and a small hole opened up in the floor by the kitchen.

"Get in," said Admiral Byrd. "That will take you to Black. Once you get into Black, it flies like a Thunderbird, so you won't have any issues there. Though, it is a lot faster."

Connor looked himself up and down, patting his clothes. "This is all I have to wear. How long am I going to be on this mission?"

Admiral Byrd puffed out his lips, exhaling and thinking. "Maybe a week or two. Maybe three. I don't know for sure."

"And my clothes? I'll be smelling like sweat and old dust by the time I get back here."

Shadow waved his hand in the air. "No worries, my friend. We took care of that. You're a large shirt, 34 pants length, 34 waistline, large socks, and size 11 boots. It's all there for you—a few weeks worth. You should be fine with that."

Connor wiped his brow. "Uh, okay." He pointed to the hole in the ground. "I get into that? What is that, exactly?"

"It's an ebb glass capsule and nearly unbreakable. It's inside a very long tube. You'll be propelled at a hundred or so miles per hour to the docking bay below where Black is located."

"Okay, so how close is that docking bay to Sphere 1's launch tubes?"

"There will be a launch tube of sorts there," replied Admiral Byrd. "The glass capsule will descend you rather quickly to an old underground facility. The facility sits right at the side of Starbase Matrona's outer shell." He pointed a thumb at Shadow. "He and his machines built a rather neat launching bay there—if that's what you want to call it."

"Well, what do I want to call it?" asked Connor.

"You'll see," replied Admiral Byrd.

"Alight—I think." Connor made his way to the hole and looked into it, seeing the capsule and few steps down to it. "Here goes nothing." He took a half a dozen steps down and wiggled himself into the capsule, then laid on a soft pad bolted inside.

Connor looked up at Shadow staring down at him. "Hold on to the bars on each side of you, just in case. Also, the shoulder straps are a must. Strap those on."

Connor buckled in and grasped the bars, squeezing tightly. He was lying down as if on a bed. The top of the capsule closed, then hissed as it sealed, much like a starfighter cockpit did just before launch. Connor looked up again. This time Shadow was waving as the hole started closing. When it shut, darkness came.

I don't know if I like this, thought Connor.

Suddenly, he felt the capsule move. It was slow at first, then it shot forth, pushing his shoulders hard into the restraints. He grit his teeth, tightened his grip on the bars, and closed his eyes.

I hate this! I hate this!

If he could see, if there were lights in this tube, then he'd be fine, and perhaps this roller coaster ride would be fun. But not knowing and not seeing was far from fun.

Taking a sharp turn, Connor's body slipped off the bed-like cushion and over the bar, hugging the side of the capsule. A moment later, he fell back onto the cushion, then bounced to the opposite side of the capsule, as it took an opposite turn.

This sucks. So, so sucks.

Then it bucked forward and descended into a free fall.

Besides his shoulder and his head—held down by the restraints—his entire body lifted in the air and he felt weightless for a few seconds, until he slammed back onto the cushion, feeling grateful it was soft. Finally, the capsule stopped.

Connor didn't move as everything was still dark. He glanced around, trying to see something, but no glimpse of light shone anywhere. After a few minutes, he pushed against the capsule and felt the glass upon his fingertips. He unclipped his shoulder buckles, then slid the capsule window open, and cool air rushed in, swirling around him.

"Hello?" he said, hearing his voice echo.

A light turned on. Then another. And, another.

"Connor. Welcome to my domain."

"Who is this?"

"You don't remember my voice? It's Shadow. I was just talking to you less than a minute ago."

A minute? To Connor it felt like ten minutes, no, maybe five. But, less than a minute seemed...impossible.

Connor pushed himself up and out of the capsule, taking in the room around him. It was painted black. All black. He took a step back, eyes widening when he saw it—the most beautiful specimen he'd ever seen, and it was twice the size of a usual starfighter. "Black is gorgeous."

"Yes she is." Shadow's confident voice pierced the room through a speaker that sounded as if it was somewhere on the starfighter.

"What do I do?" asked Connor.

A sound came from underneath Black's underbelly, then steam rose from beneath her and a staircase lowered from her midsection.

"Check her out. You'll be living in her for some time."

Connor noticed how smooth Black's body was and he could see that the mirrors were part of the ships exoskeleton, and not just built on top of it—they were, in fact, built into it.

He extended his arm and stood on his toes, running his fingers against Black's nose as he continued to move forward. A beautiful specimen.

Connor touched his heart. "I never believed in true love. But I do now."

He made his way to the steps leading into Black's belly. "This starfighter is huge. It could hold a dozen crew members. It's a little much, don't you think?"

"Nah. It's roomie for a reason," responded Shadow.

Connor took his first step on the staircase and slowly ascended into Black, grinning as he did. "This is amazing."

His mouth gaped open as he stared at his surroundings. It was like a one-bedroom studio apartment, with a bed in the back, a kitchen, tools secured tightly in ebb glass compartments on the wall just above workbenches, and a bathroom with a shower and a sink.

Turning, he saw a small room with the door closed. The only door on the ship.

"Whats the deal with the door?" asked Connor.

Black's HDC turned on and Connor spun around. In front of the HDC was a plush chair. He could sleep in that chair if he wished. Next to the HDC was an instrument panel, all lit up in an assortment of colors.

"The door is to your grow room. It's self-sufficient. You'll find your fresh fruits and vegetables there, all growing on hybrid trees, bushes, and vines. They are smaller than normal so as to fit inside the room, but nutritious and delicious all the same."

"Connor, are you ready?" This time it was Admiral Byrd.

Connor shrugged. "Not really, but I'm as ready as can be."

"Good," replied Admiral Byrd. "Sit in the cockpit and punch in coordinates 166 into your control panel. You'll spend a day operating Black in this sector, and once you think you have this starfighter understood, then you'll jump."

"Aye, Admiral."

"Good luck, son."

Out of the corner of Connor's eye, and through the cockpit window he saw something move. It was the wall just in front of his starfighter sliding open. He noted that it was a good thing the starfighter was locked in place, or else it would be sucked out into the starlit opening he now saw.

"So," said Connor. "I'm guessing there isn't a launch tube anywhere in here? I just go out into the sector from this location?"

"You do," replied the Admiral. "On my mark, we will release the constraints on the landing gear. Don't touch anything. Black will navigate herself out of this room and into space, without the use of ion thrusters. Ion thrusters will only initiate at a certain distance from the starbase.

"So, I'll be floating for a while."

"You'll be photon sailing is more like it. You'll be propelled by radiation pressure against Black's mirrored-body from the sunlight. The good news is that the mirrors have been engineered to become darker the more the sun hits it. So, you won't see any reflection from the sun off of your craft."

"I see—and Admiral?"

"Yes, son."

"What exactly will I be looking for in coordinates 166?"

"We don't know."

"Great— that makes me feel more comfortable!"

"Connor?"

"Yes, sir."

"No sarcasm."

"Aye, Sir."

As the constraints released, Black shuddered, then lifted gently off the platform. After a few moments it slipped out of the room and into space, moving slowly away from Starbase Matrona.

Connor flipped his HDC vid screen view to the rear of the craft and observed the starbase and all of the ebb glass and ebb metal that held it together. It was a feat of incredible engineering, much like this starfighter.

Through the starbase windows he could see skyscrapers, hovertrains zipping by on hoverrails, and hovercars moving along the streets. The longer he watched, the smaller everything became. He was floating away from his home and heading out on his first mission. He had no idea what he was about to find, or what he was even searching for. For the first time since he agreed to these missions he understood his new position in life— a space investigator. A silly term, but one he'd embrace.

∞

Crystal was strapped in her standing Mech's cockpit, her heart beating a little faster than normal. She was determined. She had thought about this moment for a long time and now stared into the cave—the same cave she had run frantically away from months ago.

"Hendricks? I'm going back in," she said over the com link.

"Chief, where are you?"

"At the cave."

"At the..." There was a pause. "The cave? Why are you there?"

Crystal stepped her Mech forward and peered into the cave. She turned on her slit light, highlighting the perfectly chiseled ceiling and walls of the tunnel inside.

"There ain't no part of nature that can create a perfect tunnel like this one. Something's cooking and I smell it," replied Crystal.

"Nice analogy, Chief. Don't fire me, but I demand that you turn around. Last time you went in there you came out hysterical."

Crystal brought her lips to a small, clear hose that hung above her and was attached to the Mech's internal water tank. She took a sip of water. "I wasn't hysterical."

"Well, you were something and it was a something that I'd never seen from you before."

Crystal walked her Mech into the cave, slowly moving her slit light from wall to wall, and then to the ground, and back to the walls. "I'm in."

"Dammit, Chief!"

"Watch it, Hendricks. Superior office here."

Hendrick's sigh came through the com link, and Crystal couldn't help but feel more powerful because of it. There wasn't anyone in the world that could tell her what to do. There were only those she let think they were telling her what to do.

She continued to move her Mech along, seeing a curve in the tunnel ahead. "I'm going deeper in this time."

"I know," responded Hendricks. "How am I supposed to work when you're doing this?"

"Work. Don't worry about me."

She rounded the curve and the tunnel started to descend. "This is man-made."

"Then it's a Star Guild Military project. Leave it alone."

"Hendricks, I saw bare feet tracks last time I was here. That's not normal. That would suggest someone either wondered in here that had very small and very wide feet, then died because of the intense gravity and lack of oxygen. Or..."

"Or, what?" asked Hendricks.

"I haven't thought that far yet."

"It's almost time to get back to the warehouse and pack up and to Starbase Matrona. Can you get out of there, please?"

Crystal ignored Hendricks and descended into the tunnel, moving around another corner. The tunnel was definitely spiraling, something else that doesn't happen this perfectly in nature, she thought.

"I'm a mile in, it's still descending, and I see no end."

"Ten more minutes and our shift is over. You don't want to be stranded on this planet when we all leave. It gets beyond cold, to say the least."

Crystal rolled her eyes and rounded another curve where she abruptly halted the Mech. Her eyes widened.

"This is definitely man made." She checked her HDC and switched her vid channel to a less occupied one. "Turn your vid channel to 81, and see what I'm looking at."

"What the Guild?!" uttered Hendricks.

In front of Crystal and on the HDC vid channel was a large door, blueish-white in color, trimmed in gold.

"I'm opening it."

"The Guild you are!" barked Hendricks.

She reached her Mech's arm out, squeezing the Mech's fingers around a golden door handle. She pulled and when it didn't budge, she changed direction and pushed.

It didn't move.

Suddenly, Crystal shielded her eyes with her forearm, the Mech mimicking her movement, casting a shadow over her cockpit.

"What was that?" asked Hendricks.

"Do you see that, Hendricks?" questioned Crystal, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Something is wrong with the vid channel. All I can see is blue."

"There's nothing wrong. It's that light. It turned on again. It comes from this door."

"I told you to leave things alone, Chief!"

The light faded, and Crystal opened her eyes. "The door is pulsing now."

"Yeah, I see it."

The pulse vanished and in its place was a view of space projecting from the door, as if she was staring out of a vid screen on a starship. The scene zoomed in, passing an icy blue planet with ice rings, speeding past more planets, then by a reddish-orange one, and stopping at a blue planet, with browns and greens splattered on large land masses.

"I'm watching a vid...of some sort," explained Crystal. "That planet is gorgeous."

"Again, I see it," reminded Hendricks.

The vid flickered off and Crystal was left staring at the door again. She waited, hoping to see something else appear.

She scratched her temple. "I think I'll turn back now."

Warehouse 11 held a team of Mech's, more than two dozen. It was a medium sized warehouse, although one of many on planet Lumus. It was thickly built to withstand the intense gravity of Lumus and pressurized inside for the same reason, and oxygenated as well: Lumus didn't contain breathable air.

There was nothing pretty about the warehouse: ebb metal ceiling, ebb metal walls, ebb concrete floors.

It was lined with a couple of large offices where some Techies, managers, and administrators worked. The offices were filled with desks and HDC's, always busy, always blaring bright colors and holographic images.

The Mechie's offices, on the other hand, were simple lockers lining the warehouse walls. They also considered the showers and the bathrooms as their offices as well.

"You ready?"

Hendricks stood over Crystal, his legs on each side of her, almost straddling her.

"Move, you oaf," growled Crystal, lying on her back, ready for another round of sit-ups.

Hendricks hopped out of the way. "You never tire."

"And, I wish you would." She shooed him away with a flick of her wrist. "Go bother someone else."

"I would, but we're all waiting for you."

"Wha...?" Crystal looked around and saw that everyone had left the warehouse and the short terminal to the transport ship was empty—no one was walking up toward the ship because they were already on it.

Hendricks extended his hand. "Like I said, we're all waiting for you. My wife doesn't like it when I'm late, and I don't want to have to tell her it was your fault. You know how she gets."

Crystal gave Hendricks an odd look and grasped his hand, saying, "I've never met your wife."

Hendricks pulled Crystal into a standing position. "Oh, you'd love her. Now, come on, Chief."

Walking up the ramp and into the ship, Crystal eyed several Mechies and Techies who were trying to get a quick shut-eye. She wanted to tell them it was only a fifteen-minute ride, but understood their long days, their short breaks, and their unfriendly schedules. Coming down to Lumus on a daily basis was never as ideal as the governance portrayed it to be.

She picked an empty row in the back and by a window, staring out at the mountain silhouetted by the waning sun. It was gigantic, the biggest of its kind on Lumus.

"Mt. Gabrielle," she whispered to herself. The mountain that goes on forever.

The ship trembled, then lifted into a hover. Then the front end pointed to the sky.

The captain came on the horn. "This is your captain speaking and—"

"Shut up!" bellowed the passengers, a ritual long past its prime.

"Alright. Hold on tight," responded the captain.

The ship blasted forward, exceeding the speed of sound in a matter of seconds, then accelerated even faster until they were out of the atmosphere and into the exosphere for a moment. Then they they slipped into space and took their place among the magnificent brightly scattered stars.

"We'll be at Starbase Matrona in—"

"Shut up," mumbled the passengers again.

"Roger," replied the captain.

Crystal closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she opened them to find that they had docked inside Sphere 1 of the starbase and the door to the ship had opened.

She felt a pat on her shoulder. "Time to wake, Chief."

"Hendricks, I'm awake," said Crystal, yawning.

"I'll save you a seat on the hovertrain, okay?"

Crystal nodded and followed him out of the transport ship and to the hoverstation just a block down the road.

They showed their cards to the hovertrain attendants and entered the next hovertrain to Sphere 2, the home of the Mechies and Techies, assistants, and managers of the Lumus warehouses.

Crystal sat in the hovertain car and leaned her head against the window. She closed her eyes, and for a second time, opened them just as they arrived to their destination, drool slithering down her lip.

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "I can't believe how tired I am."

"Well, get a good sleep, Chief. We have an early morning tomorrow."

She slumped. "Why do I do this again?"

"Do what?" said Hendricks, standing. "Mining?"

"Yes, why am I a Mechie?" She shook her head in disdain. "It's not the highlighted career I always wanted."

They stepped out of the hovertrain car, walking toward an elevator. "What career did you want, Chief?" asked Hendricks.

Crystal pressed the elevator button and thought for a moment. "No idea." The elevator opened and they walked in.

"Maybe that's why you're a miner because you don't know what you want and you're taking something merely to pay the bills."

"Gee, ya' think?" She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the elevator wall. "How do you do it? You've been going for thirty years at it."

Hendricks smiled. "I love it."

Crystal gave him a long stare, looking in his eyes for any sarcasm. There was none. "You're not kidding. Well, you should be Chief."

"Nah, I just do my stuff and get done. That's all I want."

They exited the elevator, bidding each other goodbye and walked in opposite directions.

Ten minutes down the alleyways and crossing streets in an empty Sphere 2, where everyone was either fast asleep or doing who knows what, Crystal entered her apartment, took off her shoes, and completed her nightly ritual of turning on the vid channels, placing a glass of water on her night stand, and ate an apple. She then fell asleep and when she woke up, her lips were parched, her mouth was dry, and she was starving.

She looked at the time. It was morning and there was plenty of time to get ready and get back on the transport and head down to Lumus for another mining shift inside her Mech. But, she was so tired.

Another ten minutes of shut-eye.

She glanced at her com link, seeing 36 com messages waiting for her. She usually only had one or two, but 36?

She lay her head down on her pillow. She would get back to the messages after she snoozed.

She suddenly sat up. "Thirty-six?" she said out loud.

The com link also displayed a calender, indicating the time and date for each message. The first message was left three days ago. She sat up, checking the day's date.

"I've missed three days...of work? I slept three days?" It can't be.

But it had been three days. Three days since she ate that apple and filled up a glass of water to place on her nightstand where it still sat.

It seriously can't have been three days. My com link is fucked up.

She took a drink of water and looked at the time. Yes, ten more minutes of sleep will do. She took another sip, then downed the rest of the water in a few large gulps.

The blue light of Mount Gabrielle then entered her mind, and she lay her head back down on her pillow and closed her eyes. Sleep soon took hold, and it would be another day before she woke up.

One Month Before the Attack

"Why do you want me to keep searching this sector? There is nothing relevant here, Admiral."

It had been a month of detective work, and nothing to show for it, at least in Connor's mind. He was in sector 166, and he wondered if all the bulvas he'd be receiving once he got back to the starbase would be worth it all.

"It's very germane, Connor," replied the Admiral. "So far, you haven't found an asteroid belt anywhere in the sector, or any remains of a massive starship that supposedly hit an asteroid belt when it jumped into this sector. What about that isn't germane?"

Connor stared at his HDC, watching the admiral stare intensely back at him. "I'm getting a little homesick, I guess." He swiveled his command chair around, staring at the open space behind him, seeing his perfectly made bed, his dirty folded clothes, and the shower and bathroom—spotless. "I'm starting to lose my mind in here. All I can do is work out, shower, shave, and eat. After I do that, I tidy up everything, just because I don't have anything else to do but fly around on auto-pilot, observing nothing but an empty planet here and there, or stars all around."

The admiral smiled. "You have to admit that it's beautiful."

"After a while, beauty gets mundane...if that's all you're looking at. It becomes...normal."

"So, nothing to report today?" asked the admiral.

"Nor yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that."

Connor turned in his chair to face the admiral, and eyed space out of the cockpit windows surrounding him. A planet was off to his left, green in color with several moons orbiting it. It was a gas giant, and glowed against the backdrop of space.

"I'm going to leave this sector and go to another one. Then, can I head home?" questioned Connor.

"You read my mind. I have a sector I want you to check out. Among the many reports that we found from the lost data streams from Tech Quarters on Starship Hathor, they triangulated on several sectors. I don't know what they were triangulating on, but sector 166 was one of them, and 197 was another."

"Okay, I'll patch in 197. I'll search for a week, then head home."

"Deal." The admiral smiled. "Until then, Connor, I bid you good luck and I thank you."

"No problem, sir."

The admiral's image blinked out and Connor pressed the numbers on his control panel. He buckled up, saying under his breath, "Here goes nothing."

He pressed the hyperdrive lever upward, and in a flash he was in sector 197.

"What the Guild!?" He banked left, twisting away from a very large ship he'd never seen before and then pulled up to avoid another smaller craft, much the same looking as the other ship.

"There are crafts in this sector! Are these Star Guild models that I don't know about?"

"Connor, this is Shadow Watt. Admiral Byrd left the building."

"That fast?"

"He had other business."

There was a pause on the com link as Connor moved his craft farther away from the two he had just encountered, the back of his craft to them.

"They don't know I'm here," responded Connor. "That's good."

"Can you move your craft's cameras toward the ships? I didn't get much of a look-see."

Connor pressed a few holographic buttons on his HDC, moving the cameras into better position.

"Hmm," pondered Shadow. "Those are new to me. I wonder if they are from our species."

"Our species? What the Guild do you mean, our species?" Connor stared into his HDC monitor, watching the screen closely, seeing very little movement from the other crafts, though there was some, meaning they were currently manned. Both ships were triangular-shaped, with a dragon's face at the pinnacle or the front of the craft. One was larger than any ship he'd ever seen, including Star Guild's starships which manned nearly 10,000 people. The other craft was twice his craft's size, but neither seemed to notice him. He was well cloaked.

"I've always wondered if there were other species, but who knows."

"What do I do?" asked Connor.

"Just monitor them. Watch their movements and report them here. Admiral Byrd will be very interested in what you have just found."

"This will be a huge discovery," thought Connor out loud.

"Maybe in time, but for the moment this won't be broadcasted anywhere. This mission is covert, top secret—meaning, you ain't going to see this on prime time news."

Connor shifted in his chair, then felt the tight restraints around his shoulders and belt. "So, I sit and watch."

"And record," replied Shadow. "Can you intercept any communication on either one of the ships?"

"I can do that?" questioned Connor.

"Just find their frequency."

"Then they'll find me."

Shadow gave a short laugh. "No, they won't. I've got my ways. Your HDC has a narrow span in its copper tuners, making hacking another frequency very easy, but any frequency coming from you is scrambled. They may pick up something, but they won't know where it's coming from. But, again, I don't know what this species is or how advanced their technology might be."

"And, if it's a different species, they probably don't speak our language."

"Yeah, well still, it would be pretty badass to hear a different language."

A flash of brilliant light pierced through Connor's cockpit window, then faded a moment later. Accompanying that light came a small armada of starships, all pyramid in shape, counting six.

"Do you see that?" asked Connor.

"You bet I do. This is exhilarating," shouted Shadow. "Can you go in for a closer look?"

A panic hit Connor. "I...uh...don't know about that."

"Well, do something! Intercept their communications link."

"Again, how?"

"I'll do it on my end."

The com link tuner started changing channels, bringing more static than anything. For an instant Connor heard something, and so did Shadow since he backed the tuner up a bit and captured the sound. It wasn't their language.

"Do you hear that, Connor? It's fascinating. There are Beings out there that aren't human. Guild! There are Beings out there!"

"And they have war ships, Shadow. That doesn't suggest anything good to me or you or humanity. I think—"

Connor halted. For a second, he thought he heard someone speak in his language. "Did you hear that?"

"I sure as Guild did," responded Shadow, more enthused than his last statement. "I'm turning it up."

What came over the wire was quite astounding, and he could understand it.

"...we'll bring in our own forces. Drakonis, my friends, you all sit back and watch our novice pilots at work. This is how we train."

The response was in a different language, one that Connor couldn't even come close to making out. It sounded quite odd.

"I understand. We'll bring in a flood of new recruits and those that survive will continue to train until they are elite. That's how we do it. It will be an easy task, our ships outnumber them, but we will only bring in exactly what they have. They'll attack back, but this will surely be a surprise. We'll be tactical. We'll be ferocious. We'll exterminate them. Once that has been accomplished, we will bring in the next starbase and start the program over again."

"Starbase?" asked Connor.

"Shh," replied Shadow. "Let them keep talking. I want to hear it all."

"...won't work. I have it under strict orders from Lien-L that Nankuani ships are allowed to attack. Your Drakonis ships and personnel must stay put."

There was commotion of some kind over the com link, and whoever was speaking from the Drakonis race did not sound happy. Their ships then lit up with a brilliant light, then disappeared and the link went dead.

Connor and Shadow both sat in silence until Connor spoke up. "Did any of that make sense to you?"

Connor could see Shadow shaking his head over the HDC. "Not at all. It sounds like they are attacking someone, but who? Are we the starbase they were speaking about?"

"My guess is that we are. I'm jumping back to let—"

"Someone is here. No one should be here. How did you get in here?"

Connor's eyes widened as he watched Shadow pick up a chair and throw it at someone off screen. "Shadow! What's going on?"

Connor saw two big men, much like the men who had broke into his apartment back on the starbase, come into view.

"Get out!" yelled Shadow, kicking at the two men.

They were too big though, and easily held him at bay. One then reached into his back pocket and pulling out a bag, covered Shadow's head. Shadow writhed and struggled to break free. They pulled Shadow out of view and the HDC on Shadow's end blinked off.

"Shadow! Shadow!" Connor frantically pressed buttons, hoping one of them would somehow turn Shadow's HDC back on. Nothing worked.

Connor paced back and forth, pulling at his hair. "What do I do?"

He dashed back to his command chair, plopping back down in it and searched for Admiral Byrd's com link line on his HDC, but no luck. Admiral Byrd was unlisted, and for good reason—everyone would call him.

His ship convulsed and Connor fell to the side, landing hard against the floor. "What the Guild?"

From the rear camera's position displayed on the HDC screen he could see an inbound starfighter, most likely launched from one of the six pyramid starships, heading straight toward him.

"Did the guy shoot at me?" Connor exclaimed out loud.

He strapped himself in and powered up full engines and ion thrusters. He clicked on his weapons arsenal, noting that both lasers and photon blasters were online.

The enemy starfighter closed in, letting off a series of shots, and Connor blasted forward, causing the starfighter to miss by a mile.

Connor swept his craft around, making a long wide turn, hoping to get behind the starfighter and get off an easy shot. The starfighter was too fast, and cut off Connor's turn by banking in and making a more narrow turn, firing rapidly at Connor.

Again the starfighter missed, as Connor twisted and turned in the opposite direction. The good thing about that maneuver, thought Connor, was that it kept him alive. The bad thing was that it easily allowed the bogey to engage directly behind Connor. Not good at all.

Connor dipped straight down, then up, twisting the craft as he did so, hearing toiletries and whatever he had left sitting out, slam against the ceiling and the ground several times. He hoped one of them didn't ricochet and smack him upside the head.

Laser streamed past his flank. Another miss.

How am I going to get behind this bastard?

He thought about doing his break trick, which won him the SGAG games, but it wouldn't work on such a fast starfighter and an elite pilot. He was going to have to do it the old-fashioned way and dogfight it out.

He pulled back on his control stick, heading into a long arch, and the enemy followed. At the top of the arch Connor immediately banked hard to the side and spiraled down, feeling the restraints tighten against his shoulders. The bogey followed, but slightly overshot, and Connor quickly took advantage of it. And being the talented pilot he was, Connor instinctively slowed his craft just enough to let the bogey fly on by, then blasted his ion thrusters with all their might, then engaged.

Two quick phaser shots and the bogey was taken out, splashing space with many brilliant colors of fire and sparks, then extinguished in the vacuum of space.

A tremor shivered through his craft. He'd been hit, but by who? He scanned his HDC at the same time maneuvering away from his current position, as to not take any more hits. Too late, another blast erupted against Black's side and his control console hyperdrive display went blank.

He tapped on it. "Where did you go?"

Right about now would be a good time to jump back home, Connor thought.

He pressed a few buttons on his HDC, punching in his home coordinates, but the console was blank. For all he knew it was dead, which meant that in time he would be dead as well. He couldn't hold off too many more starfighters. They probably had thousands of them on those starships; the two coming at him right now were just the tip of the iceberg.

He tapped the control console again, and luckily it beeped on. Then Connor had another thought—a haunting thought. If these guys can see me when I'm cloaked, they probably have the technology to track where I jump.

If he were to jump back into Starbase Matrona's sector, he would lead them all straight to his people, and his people were ill-equipped to fight anyone, especially since they'd never been in a war or skirmish of any kind.

Where do I go?

He thought of his most recent coordinates, but maybe they could even trace his route from there as well. Or, maybe not, but he couldn't risk it.

He patched in 941, not for any reason other than it was the first numbers that came to his mind. It was far away from his friends and family, and maybe he could simply escape there and relax for several days before jumping back home—if these starships and starfighters didn't follow him.

He had no more time for thinking. He had to do it.

Pressing on the lever, bright white light surrounded him and in the blink of an eye he was near another planet in another sector, somewhere in his home galaxy. This one was purple in color, with swirls of black and pink, with some blues and browns mixed in.

And, for some odd reason, he was staring at a starbase with starships almost identical to Star Guild's. The designs painted on the starships, however, were much different.

He was staring at an almost identical picture he stared at most of his pilot life, but these weren't his people. His ship then jostled, and all the HDC blinked off, along with the control panel.

He looked at his energy reserves. The jump had drained the craft of all power. All he had available was auxiliary. He would have to sit tight and wait for the solar mirrors to suck in enough light to feed his craft's engines and ion thrusts, along with everything else that needed power.

From what his gauge indicated, it would take weeks to restore enough power to jump from coordinate to coordinate to get back to his home—to Admiral Byrd, and to his mom. Most importantly, do they need to be warned? Were his people and the starbase the "target" he had heard the other species talking about?

Two Weeks Before the Attack

This time, Crystal didn't tell Hendricks that she went into the cave and down the tunnel and finally to the door. She didn't forecast it on her HDC on a channel only she and he could view. She did it alone.

Standing in front of the door again she was mesmerized by what she was being shown. It was like watching an action vid on the vid channels, but without actors or sounds—only visuals, the most beautiful she had ever seen.

The strange thing, however, was that each scene seemed to telepathically speak to her, or she just knew how to interpret them.

And here she was, watching her race's origins, in a cave, of all places.

On the door a blue planet named Gaia spun near a large sun, and a moon was even closer.

"Your race was born here, but it was taken. Many races were born there, and left through ascension, or killed off, or taken as well. The Fae, the Dwarve, the Ork, the Troll, the Dragon, the Unicorn, the Maya, the Griffin, the Pegasus, the Centaur, the Giant, the Wizard..." the races went on and on. Many she had never heard of, and some only in books of lore.

She stepped back, turned and left the cave.

The Attack

Crystal stared at Mount Gabrielle in the distance, remembering everything that the door spoke and showed her. She had been captivated, lost in the door's hypnotic embrace ever since she had found it.

There was more that was told to her, but she couldn't quite remember it all. How long had she stared at it and watched the vid?

Today she remembered giant men with whips, ordering humans to mine gold on Gaia, but that's all she could remember. Tomorrow, she wondered if she would remember more.

"Hendricks," she said over her com link, pulling herself back to the task at hand. "Next."

A hover cart full of ebb chunks zoomed by her and an empty one came to her side. She smashed a small mound, grabbed the chunks, and dropped them into the hover cart.

Finally filling her cart to the brim, she blinked several times, trying to get some stinging sweat out of her eyes. She glanced at the clock on her HDC. Only an hour left.

"Complete," she called. Instantly, the hover cart moved forward, then zipped ahead toward a large warehouse a mile away.

"Next," she ordered. When after several minutes no hover cart appeared, she rolled her eyes and blew air out of her mouth, knowing that Hendricks, who was in the Mech several yards behind her, was being slow, as usual.

Hanging her head to the side, she refrained from yelling at him for the moment, and stared at the light fading over the horizon. The sky was a canvas of purples and pinks. It was beautiful, and perhaps the only thing attractive about planet Lumus. The rest of this world was way too still for her taste. There were no trees, no vegetation, and rarely any wind.

She took a deep breath, whispering to herself, I hate this job. She shrugged. At least she wasn't on the hydro drilling crew watching water being sucked up giant tubes all day long.

Water.

She pressed her lips against a soft tube hanging from the ceiling and sucked down a few chugs. Clearing her throat, she pressed the Mech's parrot switch to the off position, and brushed her red hair out of her blue eyes and yelled, "Next!"

When nothing arrived, she pressed the parrot switch back on and turned her torso, causing the Mech to do a torso twist as well. About fifty yards behind her stood Hendricks' Mech, oddly tilting its head toward the sky.

"Dammit, Hendricks! Stop daydreaming and get back to work."

"Uh," replied Hendricks over the com link, his voice quiet. "You better take a look at what I'm seeing, Chief."She sighed and tilted her head, causing the Mech's head to do the same. She was expecting to ask Hendricks about what she was supposed to be seeing—perhaps a mythical elephant cloud formation that he always talked about, or perhaps a cloud that looked like a snowman, like the ones she used to make as a child back at the biosphere on Starbase Matrona?

Crystal, however, saw something entirely different. In fact, there were no clouds in the sky at all and when she saw what Hendricks was gazing at her jaw dropped. Up above, higher than the atmosphere, was Starbase Matona. This was a normal sight, since the starbase acted much like a daytime moon for this planet. However, what was occuring on Matrona, and around it, wasn't normal at all.

Explosions!

A Sneak Peak at the next book

in the Star Guild Saga!

Star Guild

Episodes 1 – 9

~

Episode 1

The Attack

Location: Andarta System, Circinus Galaxy, 832 year cycle of Starbase Matrona's orbit around Planet Lumus

Year: Unknown

Approximation to Earth: Unknown

Present Human Knowledge of Earth: None

Fleet Admiral James Byrd was on vacation, sitting on a red blanket in the middle of a plush green meadow. It was something he'd not experienced in several years. He took a deep breath, thoroughly enjoying the first few minutes of an anticipated two weeks of bliss. Leisurely, he looked down at a gold pendant he'd been holding in his hand, carefully eying the mystical figures carved within it. There were two men riding one horse, both carrying a spear and shield. The pendant had belonged to his grandfather, so he pulled it to his heart and held it there for several moments, revisiting a memory with fondness. Then carefully, he returned it to his pocket and raised a glass of lemonade to his lips. Suddenly, the ground shuddered violently, splashing the lemonade down his chest.

The ground shook again. The admiral instinctively dropped to the ground, gripping the grass near the edge of his blanket, the best he could do. When the shuddering stopped, he started to push himself off the ground but paused, making eye contact with a deer frozen with fear at the edge of the forest.

"What the...?" Tossed onto his back with another tremor, his eyes remained oddly fixed on the deer as it panicked and dashed into the forest. A moment later, the ground was still as silence hung in the meadow.

The admiral stood up, wondering about the source of the quakes. He was wiping the lemonade from his clothing when he heard heavy footsteps from behind. Before he could turn around to see who was approaching, he was thrown off his feet by another shudder.

Landing hard on his back, he heard the cracks and pops of bones absorbing the impact. He lay still for a moment, staring at the sky as he waited for the ground to stop shaking. When it did, he wiggled his toes and hands. There was sensation there. He sighed, furrowing his brow, his heart pounding rapidly within his chest as he took a deep breath. Without looking, he rolled onto his side, but was startled to find himself staring at a black boot next to his face.

A voice from above said, "Admiral, we have a problem."

His eyes followed the boot up the seam of a pant leg to recognize a dark blue Star Guild uniform. A young woman's face with hazel eyes was staring down at him, her brown hair stuck to her forehead as if she'd been running. The admiral stiffened as a heavy feeling churned in his stomach. "Lieutenant Eden? Why are you here? What the hell is going on?"

The lieutenant shook her head as she extended a hand. She winced because of his strong grip, especially at his age. She also grunted as she leaned back, pulling him quickly to his feet.

"The fleet is under attack, sir."

Dusting himself off, the admiral frowned. "Is this a joke?"

Eden returned his frown. "I'm afraid not, sir." She grabbed his arm and started him into a run, guiding and pulling toward the forest.

The admiral suddenly stopped and yanked his arm away. "Explain to me why we—"

Another jolt rocked the area, but it was slight enough to allow them to maintain their balance.

The admiral looked into Eden's eyes, stern and unmoving. "Am I the subject of a prank?"

She quickly shook her head. "No. We have to get going, sir!"

Another blast shook the ground, knocking the admiral to a knee. Eden grabbed his shirt, forcing him up. "We need to get you to your vehicle and the flight deck immediately."

The admiral paused, running his hands through his thick but graying hair. His mind raced. None of this was making any sense. He waved a hand, trying to dismiss everything as nonsense, thinking it had to be some type of simulation programmed into this biosphere. Then he smiled and chuckled. "Tell me, then, who would be attacking us?"

He could see fear in the eyes of Lieutenant Eden. The admiral couldn't help but feel a sudden chill move from her to him. He dropped his smile. There was something going on. "They came at us quickly, sir."

He pounded his fist against his hand. "Who, dammit! Who?"

She shook her head. Her breath was quick and short. "We just saw it as a blip on the hologram, then more blips, then more. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands—flying craft we'd never seen before. When our sensors detected that they were armed and targeting us, we didn't know what to do. They fired, so we fired back. We're still firing at each other." She hesitated, observing the horror sweeping over Admiral Byrd's face. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his next expression as she stated, "Starship Contrebis is down and Starship Sirona has taken heavy damage, many casualties, and—"

He interrupted by grabbing her shoulders, shaking her. "Slow down, Lieutenant, and back up—what do you mean, Starship Contrebis is down?"

"Gone, sir."

His eyes widened. "What? Destroyed?!"

Eden nodded her head, and this time it was the admiral grabbing her arm, pulling her into a run and practically dragging her into the forest. "We have to get out of this biosphere and onto my starship!"

Jumping over logs, dodging branches and tromping through bushes, they made their way to a central door with Admiral Byrd yelling, "Open!"

The door slid open vertically, allowing them to exit the biosphere to enter one of many roadways spread throughout the starbase—a starbase the size and shape of a moon. His vehicle was parked directly across from the door, with Eden's parked just behind. The road was empty, so he dashed across the street to an oval-shaped hover car again shouting "open!" He jumped in, gripped the steering wheel with one hand while pressing the ignition with the other, firing up the ion drives. He rose to a hover and looked behind to see Eden jumping into her vehicle. He gave her a wave to hurry as he pressed his foot on the pedal. He sped toward Flight Deck 21, thinking he had to get off the starbase to assess a situation never before assessed, and to fend off an attack for which they had never trained.

~

Thank you so much for reading, and, if you would like to read the rest of the Star Guild Saga, then follow the link below:

 Star Guild Episodes 1 - 9

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