Blood Star: Dark Galaxy, #5

Chapter 1

A small ship slipped into local space near one of the most populace planets in the whole of the Tarazet Star Empire, a world named Allamy, dropped to a low orbit, then inserted itself into the atmosphere and landed, but only for the briefest moment. It was soon lifting off again and boosting away from the surface. Chase watched the ship fly overhead, never tiring of gazing at its complex silhouette of multi-directional thrusters, heat vanes, weaponry, and sensor systems. The whole ensemble was organized into a roughly arrowhead shape that was very pleasing to the eye. There were a few areas of damage, but nothing so major that it spoiled the spaceship’s lines. All in all it was an immense source of pride to him.

The Silver Star, he said to his companion. Beautiful, don’t you think?

It is underpowered for its size, his companion said.

Have you no poetry in your soul, Rowena? Chase asked, glancing away from the receding spaceship just long enough to give her a dark look.

Rowena didn't react except to shrug almost imperceptibly. She was an ancient design of android, many hundreds of years older than he was, and her extreme age was obvious from the many scuffs and scratches on her face and hands. She had taken to wearing human clothes to protect her metallic skin, including a cap and gloves, leaving only the slim and sculpted lines of her silver face exposed to the elements.

Chase himself, though much younger, was also past his prime, with a biological age somewhere in his forties, even though he had lived a little longer than that.

Do you know how many times you have commented to me about the beauty of your ship? Rowena asked.

Not exactly, no, Chase admitted.

I do, she said.

So? Chase prompted.

So what? Rowena said, with a slight smile of the few facial actuators around her mouth.

So... how many times? It was clear from his tone of voice that Chase was genuinely curious.

It's a lot, Rowena said.

What's your point? Chase asked, disappointed now that it was becoming clear he wasn't going to get an exact number.

My point is, Rowena said, I wish you were more of a conversationalist. The art of conversation is important, you know, an it is something you can practice and learn.

Nice, Chase said, frowning at her, but then he was distracted by a discharge of energy above.

There was a flash and rumble as the Silver Star triggered one of the gossamer-delicate grav mines floating around in the atmosphere. He looked up in time to see his spaceship rimmed in coruscating light. He was worried for a second, but he soon relaxed when no drones or fighters came to investigate. He could see his ship, seemingly unharmed, continue to climb.

What a sight, he breathed.

Beautiful? his companion ventured, her tone ironic.

Beautiful, Chase grinned, ignoring the android’s snippy tone entirely. But we can’t gaze at it all day. We have to get on with what we came here for.

Sure, Rowena nodded. Let’s do this thing.

First we find my local guy, Thane, Chase said.

***

Far across space from Allamy, Captain Sperry was being briefed by his second in command, a man named Levo, about the results of some routine inspections when it happened, when the sky tore open with no warning at all. One moment the stars had been right, and the next they were very, very wrong. It was like a rip in the stellar field, and through the hole Sperry could see another, different expanse of stars. It was a horrendous sight, one to make even a seasoned fleet commander doubt his sanity.

What in the name of all the powers is that? Levo asked, the unauthorized ship forgotten.

I was hoping you could tell me, Sperry growled. Is it a natural phenomena?

Our sensors are going crazy, Hellic, the helm officer, told him. The local gravity field is fluctuating like a plate of jello.

And then something appeared in the hole that ha been ripped through the fabric of space. The starfield on the other side shifted, went out of focus and came back to sharpness in an instant, and where before there had been empty space, now there was a small, dark yellow disk.

Is that an enemy craft? Sperry asked, some instinct telling him that it was an evil thing, and that it intended to do harm to him and his ship, the Howling Wind.

I’m not getting anything on the sensors that makes any sense, Hellic told him, a little more tension in her voice than just a moment before. I’m not detecting any faster than light technology being used, but that thing is coming toward us at enormous speed, and the size... The size of it... These readings have to be wrong.

Tell me anyway, Hellic, Sperry barked. I need information.

The sensors are telling me that it is orders of magnitude bigger than any ship I have ever seen before.

The tactical systems are detecting an armored hull... and shields, Levo said. I’m getting estimates for armor density and thickness... Wait, this is wrong. The scale is in kilometers. That has to be an error, doesn’t it?

Priority message from fleet command, Montrey, the communications officer said, before a hologram of a fleet command officer appeared on the bridge.

Message to all military craft, she said. There is an anomaly in space, very near the planet of Zan-Zoma, our system’s most populous planet. The nearest main ship to the center of the zone of disturbance is the carrier, Iron Grip. All units converge on Iron Grip at maximum sub-light speed. Power up shields and weapons and await further orders.

The hologram snapped out of existence, replaced for a second or two by a 3D graphic, depicting the slowly-turning logo of the Zoma System Defense Fleet.

We have our orders, Sperry bellowed. Shields up, weapons hot, lay in a course. Let’s go, people. Sound battle stations. Let’s wake everybody up, and go find out what this is all about.

He watched with a grim smile as his command crew swung into action, and then turned his attention to a large tactical hologram at the center of the bridge. It was displaying fleet positions, which were all updating as the individual units maneuvered to converge on the Iron Grip. But the symbol indicating the status and position of Iron Grip kept jumping and flickering.

What’s going on with my tactical display? Sperry growled.

It’s not the display, Hellic told him. It’s space itself that is glitching.

Bring up some visuals, Sperry ordered.

The bridge was buried at the center of the Howling Wind, where it was theoretically safer from enemy fire than if it was projecting from the hull. This had the disadvantage that there were no windows, and so the only way to see what was going on – other than by peering at the spiderweb tactical holograms that were complex 3D sculptures made out of points, each point showing the position of a unit or group of units, and lines, showing vectors – was to use large, flat holograms that acted as screens.

Dominating the bridge was a single flat hologram showing the ever-growing disk at the center of the disturbance to local space, and at the captain’s command it was joined by a new screen, showing the Iron Grip. Iron Grip was a huge ship, ugly, with no effort at streamlining for atmospheric entry. It looked most like a collection of fighter and drone bays, held together by clumps of weapon systems and support areas, all covered over in armor and studded with heat vanes, shield projector nubs, and FTL sails.

It’s under attack, Levo gasped. The Iron Grip is under attack, but I don’t see any incoming fire.

It’s coming apart, Hellic whispered. It’s the gravity storm unleashed by this rip in space.

This can’t be, Sperry muttered, offended at the wrongness of what was being done to the fabric of his home system.

They all watched as the armor of the carrier started to warp and come away. Delicate structures like sensor booms and communications masts were being twisted and torn off. And then there was an audible gasp from several throats around the bridge, as the carrier, with its enormous structural integrity and layers of armor, suddenly failed completely. The fabric of the formidable fighting craft ripped in a diagonal line, traveling from just above the prow to just below the stern. Fighters and drones were being launched at the same time as massive chunks of hull came away, dissolving the spaceship’s outline and replacing it with a whirling mass of debris and small attack craft.

By the powers, Sperry gasped. Nobody else on the bridge spoke or made a sound.

The fleet command officer’s hologram reappeared, this time without any prior warning from his communications officer.

Change of orders, she said. Change of orders. Change of orders. Avoid the center of the distortion. The gravity field there is too unstable. Remain in stable gravity space. I repeat, stay in stable gravity space.

The hologram winked out, again with the fleet logo left spinning for a second in its wake before disappearing completely.

What is the gravity gradient near us? Sperry asked.

Not great, Hellic said, and our current course is taking us deeper into the gravity maelstrom. Our structural integrity fields are working hard, but the stress they are under is climbing all the time.

Belay our current course, Sperry said. Hold us here... for now. But keep an eye on the gravity sensors, and tell me if they start to head in the wrong direction, okay Hellic?

Yes, sir, Hellic replied.

Look through the rift, Levo said then, as he leaned toward the hologram screen to see better. The disk is growing. I thought it was maybe a saucer and we were seeing it from above, but it’s not. It’s a globe... a big globe... By the powers, it’s a planet, an artificial planet, made out of some gold or bronze metal.

That’s not possible, Sperry told him. There’s no such thing as an artificial planet. Such a thing couldn’t be built with our current level of tech-

It’s Drifter Prime, Levo said. It is an artificial planet, all right, but we didn’t build it. It has been hanging in space since before we came down from the trees. Powers knows who really built it.

Not hanging in space... Drifting, Hellic corrected him.

But the Drifter Prime site is half a sector away, the captain protested. It can’t be here.

It isn’t here... At least I don’t think it is, not really, Hellic said. The rip is connecting two different areas of space, like a portal or a bridge. We can see Drifter Prime, even though it is hundreds of light years away, or more.

I have never heard of anything like that before, Sperry said, unable to believe his own eyes.

And the rift is expanding, Hellic said. We have to move, if we want to keep the load on our structural integrity fields from going critical.

Understood, Sperry said, with a swift, decisive nod. Get us out of here.

Accelerating, Hellic said.

As the captain gazed at the viewing screens he saw another ship caught by the enormous tidal forces swilling around at the edge of the rift, moments before it was torn apart, like an impatient child ripping the wrapping paper off a gift.

By the very powers, Sperry muttered. The area of disturbance is expanding fast. The fleet is scattering but it is overhauling the slow ships and the ships that were nearest to Iron Grip.

They watched as mighty naval warship after mighty naval warship was overhauled and torn panel from panel. Leaving sometimes just a twisted structural skeleton, sometimes just a cloud of debris, to mark where the ship had been.

The flagship, Levo gasped, as the inexorable progress of the gravity disturbance continued. It’s going to catch the flagship.

Just as he said that, the hologram of the fleet command officer returned. All fast ships converge on the flagship, she said. The admiral must be evacuated. I repeat the admiral must be evacuated. This is a priority, red, command. All fast shi... Her words trailed off and she looked over her shoulder. What's that? she asked, before reaching for a helmet that was just outside the hologram camera’s field of view and lowering it over her head. She worked quickly to connect it to the neck ring of her slim suit of armor, and then the hologram cut out, replaced by the spinning logo.

It has them, Hellic said, voice reverent, awed at what was happening to the mightiest spacecraft in the system, and nobody will be escaping that, not even the admiral.

They all watched as the disturbance chewed into the side of the flagship, its proud guns unable to even fight back against the fate that was overtaking it. The hologram logo, still slowly spinning and forgotten on the bridge, went fuzzy and disappeared as a long strip of the flagship’s ablative armor was torn away.

The flagship is the best we have, Levo said. If any ship can withstand the gravity storm, then it’s that ship.

Maybe you’re right, Hellic said. The disturbance is expanding more slowly. And the flagship’s engines are still burning at full power. They might just make it.

The entire bridge crew watched in tense silence as the admiral’s craft powered forward, the engines roaring.

No, Sperry said. It’s too late for them. They’re already doomed. The gravity shear has sliced off too many heat vanes. They can’t dump the heat those engines are pumping out. They have two choices now. Either kill the engines and wait for the hull to slowly crumple like a tin can, or-

The captain’s words were interrupted by a bright flash as the engines of the flagship went critical. The entire rear of the ship was caught in an expanding fireball that reached the capacitors storing power for the ships rear weapons turret. They exploded too, and the combined explosion tore the entire back of the ship off.

Or push the engines till they blow, Sperry continued his thought in a low, shocked voice.

By the powers, Hellic said. Actually it’s both. The explosion left them drifting in space, and now the gravity storm is crushing what’s left of the ship.

Who is in charge here now? Sperry groaned, as he looked away from the tragic sight. Find out who is in command. I need some orders.

Working on it, Montrey shouted.

Do we fall back to the planet? Levo asked. Howling Wind is capable of atmospheric insertion.

The disturbance is slowing, Hellic said, but the sensors are predicting that it will graze the planet. That is going to have severe consequences for the environment.

By the powers, Levo grunted.

It took ten minutes for Hellic’s predictions to start to come true. The upper surface of Zan-Zoma’s atmosphere started to spin in complex patterns, and then clouds formed at the edges between each vortex.

I’m getting orders now, captain, Montrey said.

From who? the captain asked.

Unclear, the communication officer replied. The communications net has so many holes in it, trying to use this console is little better than shouting into a can on the end of a piece of string.

What are the orders? the captain asked, irritation in his voice.

Rescue mission, Montrey replied. All ships with atmospheric entry capabilities are to descend to the surface at the main spaceport, or as near as we can get, and start taking on population. We are to evacuate as many as we can.

Lay in the course, Hellic, the captain ordered. It’s time for The Howling Wind to descend into the storm.

***

A huge distance away, in an area of space untouched by the chaos and destruction descending on Zan-Zoma, a cold gas giant was orbiting its insignificant star. The gas giant didn’t even have a name, and it looked surprisingly delicate in the star’s wan light. It was ringed in bands of color, that became chaotic where they were whipped by storms, giant arcs of auroral light played about its poles, and its rings and moons added to the complexity by casting shadows on the upper layers of its clouds. This apparent delicacy was an illusion, of course, because in reality the planet was as dense and robust as any other in the system, more so, in fact. The system itself was unnamed, far out at the edge of human space, with nobody around to gaze on the gas giant’s beauty, but if there had been, they would have seen a spaceship emerge from the upper layers of the remote gas giant, where it had been hiding and licking its wounds.

This spaceship was becoming famous throughout the Tarazet Star Empire, as people heard about it and the rebellion it was at the spearhead of. They called it the Drifter Ship, though its real name was Galaxy Dog. It’s alien outline was becoming famous, but it had changed since it was last seen. Now it was bigger than ever, with thicker armor, and denser structure. It was a like an organic structure that had toughened up, or an architectural edifice that had been buttressed against strong winds that had almost been its undoing. It was recognizably the same ship, but mightier, more robust, more ready to face the challenges ahead. 

Within the Drifter Ship were four crew, a woman named Altia, a man called Knave, a robot that went by the name Jay, and deep within the ship’s systems themselves, an AI named Yort. Knave, Altia, and Jay had come together in a space within the Drifter Ship that they called the observation deck. There too, the changes that the spaceship had been going through were very obvious.

Look at this window, Knave, a muscular man with light brown skin, straight black hair, and epicanthic folds, said. He got up from the luxuriously upholstered bench he had been sitting on, went to the window, and patted it with the flat of his hand. It’s bigger now than it was before, and you can see that the transparent armor is thicker.

The whole hull is thicker, Jay, a robot of human design, but constructed of bronze, alien Drifter metal, agreed. It’s like the Galaxy Dog went into the clouds a badly chewed up caterpillar, and now it’s coming out as an iron butterfly.

A bronze butterfly, Knave corrected.

The changes are incredible, said Altia, a tall woman with dark brown skin, an afro, and a regal face. It is like the spaceship wasn’t built to a design, but instead was built to a general layout, like a living thing. And the layout can be made more robust or allowed to fade and become more gracile, depending on what circumstances require.

Gracile? Knave said, glancing at her, eyebrow raised. He had never heard the word before in his life.

Gracility is slenderness, Altia said. It is a term used in discussion of morphology. It means something like being slim. This spaceship, however, has definitely gone the other way, and become more robust.

And I don’t remember asking it to do that, Jay said. Did any of you ask it to do that?

No, Altia said.

No, Knave echoed. I would have asked it to do this a long time ago. The new, bulked-up look is cool.

So why now? Altia asked. The spaceship has repaired damage before-

Many times, Jay added.

We do get into some scrapes, Knave nodded, ruefully.

-but it has never responded like this before, Altia continued, ignoring their comments. So, the question is, why now? What has caused this?

We did get our asses kicked a lot harder last time than we ever have before, Knave said. Of course, Jay decided to throw the ship at an entire flotilla of the Tarazet Deep Space Fleet, all on its own-

Hey, hume, Jay said. I saved your ass, and your ass too, Altia, by doing that.

Sure, Knave nodded, waving a hand dismissively, but Galaxy Dog was little more than a skeleton when it limped away, held together by structural integrity fields and adhesive tape. Maybe hardening up like this was a reaction to all that damage.

That is possible, Altia said. Very possible. But there is something else that may have triggered this change. An event.

Okay, I’ll bite, Jay told her.

Yeah, what event? Knave promoted.

The opening of the Eye, Altia said. The emergence of the Dark Wings into our galaxy. I suspect that Galaxy Dog is not reacting to past events, rather it is reacting to what is to come.

They all three fell silent then, and Knave returned to sit beside Altia on the upholstered bench, watching the last wisps of cloud stream past the window as they moved further and further away from the surface of the gas giant.

The ship has repaired itself, a disembodied voice said.

Yort, Knave said, surprise and pleasure in his voice.

It’s good to hear your voice, Altia said.

Welcome back, buddy, Jay added.

I feel that I, too, am healed of a malady that has been afflicting me, Yort said.

Malady? Knave said, again looking to Altia for help, eyebrow again raised quizically.

Look it up, she told him, you only get one definition per day, buster.

What’s going on, Yort? Jay asked. Has the spaceship grown in size because of the Dark Wings, or the Eye?

Your guess, Altia, about why Galaxy Dog has grown more robust are correct, Yort told them.

Which one, the eye or the Dark Wings? Knave asked, but Yort ignored him and carried on speaking.

And this is why I too feel as though I have a renewed purpose, the ship’s computer said. The appearance of this threat, here, in this galaxy, is a catastrophe, and I feel that we are compelled to react to it.

React how? Knave asked.

We have to stop it, Altia said.

It must be prevented, Yort said, at exactly the same time.

Oh, Knave said, sure, I mean I get that.

Really? Jay said.