Issue 12: Earth Takes a Stand
The Weave is bluffing. Making the Hall of Naming into a healing sanctuary is just a distraction. Only one-half of the Twin Rulers is in play. There is no record of a brother. Sister Nyx already did half the battle. This deformed Ayeer has no matter manipulation. I suspect her mother is translating mind speak. Pathetic!—The All-Mother
My wife has keen senses. Thus her bloodlust serves me. Set and Morgana plan on using me to pacify my planet. No, I will use the Sleepers within the Houses against them. They may dance to Set’s tune but they will serve me. All I have to do is attach more parasites to them. Like the one I “gifted” to Karvax. Unlike his, which was a prototype, these new tools will not kill the Sleepers. They will overturn Set’s compulsions at the exact time I want. I will unleash hell upon everyone. They will not take my people from me.—The All-Father
It wouldn’t take much now. In retrospect, my grandfather’s actions allowed Arthon to assist Proctor Gansys in separating those Houses least infected by Set’s influence or sleeper programs. We had no way to expunge the nanites. Such as they were. Even the Weave’s healing boon within the Hall of Naming wasn’t there to heal that wound. No, it was there to mark those that could be saved. Which was a majority of the Commons. Houses that had intermingled with Ayeer over the various generations. But I would not abandon them. Most of them didn’t even realize they were compromised. The old rites protected the Commons. Along with the countermeasures put into place even before my birth.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 22nd century
The Rotunda
Typha
August 22nd, 2114
Ta’len gawked. His hands resting on the table. “You are serious?”
I nodded, “The nomination came in last night. The Commons wish you to be their representative to the Houses. On equal footing. No matter what E’ratha and her allies say.” Y’lansa rose, bringing a hologram to the forefront, its various charts fading as she highlighted the primary file. My mother motioned for all of us to sit.
She opened with, “Ayeer and its House Allies will be leaving Typha.”
Gwen, Tobin and Jace stiffened. Mom glanced at them.
“I know. We will heed your warnings.”
Jace was armed with a practice blade. Quite deadly. Not like those props most carried around for “Look at me!” I’m a swordsman points. He even had additional muscle mass. Arthur had been working him over for some time. Mom smiled, “I also had Doc’s assistance with reinforcing key allies.” Lorain gripped my hand.
<<With some matter manipulation on your mother’s part and my healing and augmenting.>>
I shook my head. Not in disappointment but with understanding, “I get it. Since the Naming, it's like we threw down the gauntlet on purpose. Terran Alliance and Union reports have indicated more Artock activity in the past month. That will only get worse.”
Even White didn’t recall those visions I had in the Hall of Naming. I always thought it was the Ur-Stone covering some key memories for me. Ones that even my mother and White never picked up on. It might have been that. But I also suspected the Weave itself was intervening. A quick pulse of warmth filled me. It wasn’t localized either. White gave no response so it was an occurrence only I keyed in on.
No Amarche activity. No Curator.
The warmth reached my hands and feet.
Within my heart words formed.
You are not alone. We have always walked together. You and I.
Lorain’s hand tightened, “Up until now, it's mostly been information control. Each faction preparing for an onslaught. V’alkor believes the All-Father will move sooner rather than later.” I rose from the seat. Pulling up the partial mapping of the Zygotic Expanse.
“Then let's start with the All-Father’s territory.”
Mom cut in, “Already in motion.”
Invisible fingers tapped the side of my head. The Curator bowed.
Mouthing the word, “D’iaxi.”
I replied, “Can I help?”
She responded, “Not for now. Later. When they call for you.”
Belatedly I realized they needed me to stay here. To keep eyes away from C.A.P activity. If the villains were more concerned about what I would do, it would give our other forces time to gather what they needed.
Edge of the Zygotic Expanse
Erhath Sector
Micheal Brookes prepped his seals. His C.A.P battlesuit linking to the remote INet Access Node. This was going to be a hit and run. To map out part of the Expanse. D’iaxi and Matarn were cloaked with Terran battlesuits as well. Their reasons were personal. Micheal didn’t know and didn’t ask. He knew that resolute look all too well. Heaven help whoever got in their way. He nodded, “Let’s go. Remember, use coms only if necessary.”
Twelve helmets hissed shut in response.
The attack sphere began its countdown. The assault teams would strike the Artock pirate base any moment. The hum of artificial gravity locked everyone into place. The walls constricting so the landing wouldn’t hurt anyone within.
*****
The Spinster, all three bodies of her, rose to announce, “We sense them. The Terrans are coming. Hide Medusa! Hide us among the rocks of cosmic waste!”
Medusa jerked the controls. Her fingers flashing on the holo screens as she brought the medium-sized Artock raiding vessel into a graveyard of asteroids. Tucking it into the most abused one. Riddled with scorch marks of target practice committed against it by bored pirates. They were 200 clicks away. Burrowed deep within the rocky surface when all hell broke loose on the pirate base hovering above the giant green gas giant. Medusa turned off all the energy output of the ship. Including life support. The Artock around her barely had enough time to scramble into their emergency EVA suits. The Spinster raised its arms. All three ancient women muttering under their breath. Their haggard appearance of mottled gray robes revealing their shriveled bodies. Reminded Medusa of a half-wrapped mummy. But they had proven useful. Able to hide biosignatures. As long as everyone stayed quiet. Secured in their crash chairs.
Waiting for the shoe to drop.
*****
D’iaxi took overwatch at an intersection. While his father paused to consult his otherworldly senses. Alongside some conventional means. He brought up his display. The nanite probes running in all directions to map out the enemy space station. The Alliance fleet, with other Union forces, was distracting any additional Artock ships while the ground teams hacked various systems to gather sector details. They both suspected that the All-Father’s main abroad would be mobile. But the Artock would have to have some way to access it. Even on a trading basis. Since most civilized sectors wouldn’t give the All-Father the time of day let alone resources so that meant he had to use the pirates as one of his sources.
It would surprise either Scholar if the All-Father pillaged other universes. Typha was vast. Using its connections via the Throne to patrol many sectors and universal shifts but they couldn’t be everywhere. Unity had also turned some universes into barren wastelands but the All-Father didn’t fear those places either. He took what he needed. Even at the expense of his soul. They didn’t have conformation but the entropy inherent in places consumed by Unity would exact a price if you spent too much time there. Not everyone had the same kind of protection that Eliza had. Or the greater ones possessed by Dexter. Due to the nature of Black.
The All-Father’s Domain, Tarkanan. What little they knew of it was from Piper’s tales. It moved constantly. A world of green fires. Dark Shaman mysteries. An industrial hub that the Urraden guarded above all else. D’iaxi would find his mother. Matarn would save his wife. They just had to discover how the Artock phased to Urraden’s fortress planet.
Was it a special coordinate set? Dark Shaman rites? Something only found on an Artock ship or facility? D’iaxi motioned to his father. They transverse the mish-mashed corridors of the pirate base. A pair of Artock grunts rounded the corner. D’iaxi aimed and fired without a second thought. They were posing as Terran C.A.P fighters after all. Matarn’s magic flowed over both. The return fire from the second pirate pinging uselessly against the barriers.
A few moments later they dragged both bodies into a side compartment. Matarn found the usual paraphernalia on both. Stimulants, basic creds, a few vibro knives. Not even plasma-based either. Very low standing grunts. One had a datapad with some coordinates. Either a trap or a rallying point to escape. He sent them to the battlefleet. Let the Navy types decode some of this. D’iaxi smashed the sidewall. His low with worry, <<Where would they keep such a thing?>> He wished Eddie was here. That man could find crumbs within a cyclone. Matarn glanced about the room. Barracks. He thought back to Star’s reports of Nix and his father.
Matarn responded, <<If you were the master of this place. People being nothing more than roadkill to delay the enemy, where would you hide your escape hatch?>>Their coms clicked. Basic morose code. Gen.Whitehouse had found a warren of pirates hunkered down in what this place deemed a brothel. D’iaxi scanned the probe mapping. Reaching out with his connection to the Void Leyline. Searching for ripples. The cold silhouette of a ramshackle ship highlighted a deep violet color. The lead pirate was attempting to launch cold. Letting the patience hooks do all the work. Hoping to float close enough to the asteroids circling the gas giant. They raced down the halls. No other souls in sight.
The last stand buying the riffraff leader time.
*****
The Artock leader panted.
His bulbous eyestalks quivering at every sound. The rest had fallen back to the false escape route. Believing a hidden hatch was in the slave quarters within the brothel. Fools. He sent the codes for the repair bots to swarm alongside as the secondary hatches opened to the void of space. It was a risk but he didn’t want to attract attention.
He donned his helm. The snap-hiss of the seals protecting him from the low-powered environment as he cut off the last bit of power to life support. Let the humans slaughter his pawns. He knew that Medusa woman had a hidden power. He would extract it from her. Offering it to the All-Father. Earning a place among his elite guards.
He hummed to himself.
This would work!
*****
The Terran Alliance nearly captured all main points within the space station. D’iaxi gripped the sidebar of the repair bot as it moved to the midpoint of the Artock escape ship. Matarn was on the opposite side. Matarn would provide a distraction near the front while D’iaxi would take the rear.
Matarn hooked a small cube into the bot. Overriding its programming. It was time to create a breach. With the main power off, it was hiding the pirate leader but also providing a key opportunity for the Scholar duo. He waited as the bot cut through the primary airlock. Inside it was moderately sterilized but that wasn’t saying much.
He pulled some explosives from his utility belt.
Time to make some noise.
He had to admit: Humans were pretty handy.
He watched as the timer ticked down to zero.
*****
D’iaxi hacked into the rest of the bots. Forcing them to guide the escape vessel towards the partially mined asteroid before them. Unlike the previous commands to aim it towards the heart of the belt, D’iaxi wanted to mess with the little weasel. Just a bit. He’d go repent later.
He hoped Whitehouse and his men were handling their situation.
*****
Micheal Brookes dived towards the table. Partially for cover and partially to shield the gaunt hands clutching at the grating mesh situated near it. It was just like the Artock to leave the slaves or captives in place. The echoing shockwave above his head indicated that the cavalry had arrived with bells on. He didn’t want to think about how many rooms held unwilling subjects.
Two levels above, Dexter Murphy fired into the chest of a giant Artock berserker. Its two living stone golems exploding as the young man reached out with his matter manipulation to pull them apart. Beyond that door were more slave pens. His eyes narrowed. His jaw clenching hard enough to make his teeth ache. As he fired into the hulking pirate’s chest some more another man rounded the corner. Proctor Gansys stared at the cool efficiency. He held up his hand and halted Arthon. They were in C.A.P gear as well. Not wanting to give away Muthra assistance on this assault.
Dexter reached out. Pushing on their minds. Almost like he was knocking.
>>What you need is in the pens. I’ll follow. Make sure there are no immediate sleeping plants or suggestions. Artock are known to insert explosives within slaves as a deterrent to escape.<<
Arthon sucked in a breath.
He had brought many of Doc’s healing pills.
The three men entered. Fearful searching eyes and forms slunk back into the recesses of holding pins. Thinking them Artock for a split second. A mix of Typherians, Litari, Forger, Icaths, along with three human colonials. They raced forward. “Oh thank god! USS Lighthouse! We were on a deep-range scouting mission when…” Arthon held out a hand. The human man took the hint and nodded. Even if he was a civilian contractor he knew the basics. The bedraggled colonial waved the men further into the room. Proctor Gansys scanned everything. His eyes tracking the fluids running through what he assumed were feeding tubes.
He took samples via probes no larger than his thumb. Dexter maintained overwatch by the exit. His keen senses picking up everything. He was thankful that Eliza wasn’t here. She’d want to help. But by doing so would have revealed more to the enemy. Black agreed. White’s very nature abhorred people in pain. Giving away some abilities too soon would affect Eliza’s chances of survival later. It was another list of things they kept from her. Until the time was right. Dexter snapped into the coms array, >>Delta two niner! I repeat Delta two niner!<<
The Alliance fleet outside reacted to the information update.
More Artock slaving ships had jumped into the system.
Luckily for the Union, the second force of Javelins had been positioned for such an occurrence. Stealthed within normal space. They still didn’t dare give away their Weave space capabilities. He heard his aunt Q’vera mutter on the family line, >>Always getting into the thick of it eh?<< He knew that was aimed at him but she was playing smart. Not naming anyone in case other parties were listening too closely. Mainly excitable teenage parties dubbed Tobin and Jace.
Various Defenders blinked into existence alongside her.
Uncle B’karis shouted, <<FOR THE UNION!>>
The message relaying through Human and Defender communications nets alike.
The cold war was heating up.
*****
Medusa eyed the battle via well-placed service bots scattered throughout the asteroid belt. Noting the new designs of the human fleets jumping in to immobilize the arriving slaver vessels. The leader of that hive hadn’t even warned them the outpost was under siege. She had been right to leave him out of the loop. The Spinster had noted, “That one would sell out its children and mother. You will find no ally of convenience there.”
It might be days before they could move.
Three sets of pitch-black eyes blinked at her. Toothless grins pulled into a knowing smile.
“I sense the presence of Scholars. Two of them.”
Medusa didn’t question it. That demi had uncanny perceptions. Not quite like that Puzzler moron but frightening in their accuracy. The former Atlantian sneered, “They look for a way to the All-Father. Wonder what that Urraden thing has on them?”
Spinster replied, “The heart of one most dear.”
Medusa bit her lip. Not rising to the bait.
That ancient thing had a chip the size of Jupiter on her shoulders. She enjoyed lashing out with cryptic responses. When no elaborate explanation was forthcoming Medusa rounded up emergency rations. Mapped out escape vectors.
All the while that unsettling grin remained plastered on the Spinster’s faces.
She whispered in ancient Egyptian. “I am the mirror of one most beloved.”
Medusa cut the feed from the scout bots. While it was tempting to see how the battle went she didn’t want a stray signal getting out or tracing back to her. She would survive. By any means necessary.
Tarkanan
The Zygotic Expanse
The All-Father’s Inner Sanctum
He watched the feeds.
Using the very same scouting bots to observe the battle.
Z’tar Urraden raised a delicate challis to his lips, “How quaint.”
He knew what drew certain people to this battle. Under his very feet, deep within his ancestral chambers, was the dear Lady of Olam herself. The head Light Shaman for the Scholars of the formerly marvelous Unity Universe. Oh yes. She was the perfect bait. He would draw the father and son to this place. Even though she had never broken, the signs of her baby’s birth were obvious. The light traces of marriage bonds etched onto her skin in the old way of that race.
He continued to gaze at the opening salvos.
How sweet it would be once they all fell into his web.
No matter if it was friend or foe.
His wife materialized behind his throne. Her cutting tones adding to his gloating mood.
>>Shall we allow them to come here?<<
He replied, >>After a fashion. Activate the secondary nets. Let’s give them a warm welcome!<<
Deep below, the Lady slept on. Held within statis.
Her mind within the Dreaming. She would warn her husband.
Their bond was deeper than the tracings upon flesh.
The spark of their son’s mind a beacon within the darkness.
War was coming. For the very soul of Creation.
Issue 11: Here
Issue 13: Here
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