The Transcendence (The Foundry Book 2) - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

The fate of humanity was undecided, and I wasn’t sure if I could change that. We were here. We were alive. We’d seen progress. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling deep down in my gut that the rug was about to be pulled out from under us.

Someone was going to screw it all up.

On the hillside beside Perry’s bar, I stood watching as twilight on Novae was pushed back by fire, thinking to myself the entire time: How much longer can we keep this up? When is the other shoe going to drop?

A wingless shuttle in the shape of an aeronautical lifting body descended from orbit, the brightness of its drive flame lengthening the shadows cast by nearby trees, their large, fan-like leaves dancing along the dappled slopes northeast of the fledgling human colony of Novae. I could only hope this expedition brought us good news and not more disappointment. We’d find out soon enough.

Orange and white fusion exhaust reflected back in the eyes of many a creature, who all took flight in response to the unexpected light and noise, hiding themselves someplace safe, someplace finding prey might be easier. Among them were flocks of the bird-like analogs native to this temperate world, wings spread wide, as well as an assortment of scavenging mammals no larger than wildcats who preferred keeping out of sight.

From the shuttle’s belly, landing struts extended, their edges glimmering, making contact with the landing platform. Once firmly on solid ground, the shuttle’s engines died, and I was left with only artifacts in my vision, purple spots like upside-down teardrops preventing any chance of stargazing. I tried to rub these blots away with the heels of my palms out of instinct, but that never worked. Not really.

The rumble of the shuttle’s engines translated across the landscape to me and was gone, the thump of music from the patio over my shoulder rushing back in to fill the void. Patrons whooped and hollered at its arrival, before returning to their drinking, their talking, their dancing. There were no shortage of momentary distractions tonight at Invictus.

I wondered, who’d gone out? Where did they go? It was likely a set of scientists from the Security and Exploration Arm. Maybe even Mom or Dad. I could use my neural implants to ping the local network and check, but with all the outages eating up our meager bandwidth, too many frivolous queries, I decided not to overburden our systems. I only hoped they’d found something good out there. The better we understood our new world, where the dangers were, what resources lay in wait, the better our chances for survival.

The year was 03 NCE, the third year of the Novae Common Era. We lived in a frontier colony in every sense of the word, hanging off the edge of anything humanity ever thought possible, and yet, here we were. We were surviving. The Isoptera had not killed us at the first Foundry facility, or on our own ship, nor had they the crew of the Brilliance—another United Exploration Initiative FICSE Mission ship, whose people lived here with us. The Gene Brokers had not irrevocably altered our DNA, beyond the small modifications on Creatus that had kept us from dying from the silica dust we were breathing in. With a few unlikely friends and the Foundry’s unusual brand of assistance, humanity had persisted. We’d traveled to an unknown place, made contact with a fathomless alien intelligence, been hurled across the Milky Way through the Wandering Gate, and found ourselves on a world untouched by the unforgiveable sins of sentient life. A world without war, without crime, without so much of what we left behind on Earth. We could start over in this place. Stay forever. A society of the best and brightest, built on abundance and logic, not scarcity and emotion.

We just had to figure out the abundance part.

Novae had not been our intended destination. The UEI had borne a world-wide project that all of Earth bought into, not just with their minds, but with their pocketbooks. Taxes had been levied in almost every industrialized country to build five massive, fusion-powered starships set to discover the nature of the signal the Foundry sent to us. When we’d left Earth, everything was in shambles. Climate change had created a vast disparity between the haves and have-nots. Population growth was off the charts, unsustainable. The air was becoming unfit to breathe. Economies were pushed well beyond the breaking point. Our species was desperate. Then a voice from the dark said, ’Hello, humanity. We are the Foundry, come see us soon’. Something in that signal, a feeling, an impression, told us everything would be okay. That the Foundry would help us survive. This became our mission, the only mission: FICSE, Foundry Intent, Contact and Save Earth.

Five ships set off for five different stars: the Brilliance, Galileo, Star Stream, Revelation, and of course, my childhood home, the Vasco Da Gama. Three went into the dark and were never heard from again. Two ships, ours and the Brilliance, made contact with the Foundry at different facilities. Through this process, we learned that the Foundry itself was dedicated to “Protecting Life.” It sought to awaken the Universe’s collective consciousness by helping fledgling species like our own survive and thrive. Yet there were rules. We still didn’t fully understand what those were. All we knew was that it disabled our ships and after a series of tests, it gave us new ships, better ships. It was never hostile, like the Isoptera or Gene Brokers, but it was not always a friend. We did not know who was in control of it, if anything, or what all its motivations might be, but it helped us survive. We were grateful.

We had kept good on our original mission. We made contact and were still doing what we could to determine the Foundry’s intent. As for saving Earth… Novae kind of put that on hold.

“They’re back,” my wife, Shelly Williams Hughes remarked, sneaking up beside me and giving me a start. I hadn’t heard her approach, with all the commotion. “Hope the survey went well.”

My lips compressed into a hard line. “Same here. As much as the Foundry has helped us, you’d think…well…”

“You’d think it would have given us a little more than this?” Shelly supplied. “We’ve been given just enough to get by. Just enough to get started. Access to a few 3D nano printers, a dwindling supply of staple foods, and orbital defense provided by your and Karianna’s ships. All things we need, sure, but it still looks like they want us to stand on our own two feet.”

“You’ve been going over Johan’s estimates again, haven’t you?”

She frowned. “I have. Every month the Foundry is giving us a little less charity. Within five or six months we’ll have to be self-sufficient, or people will begin to starve. Think we can retreat back into the Foundry vessels? Is that even an option?”

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head, considering the idea. “Not unless we’re leaving for good. We put down roots. I suppose it wants to see us make use of them.”

“Unwritten rules…”

“Certainly not posted ones. Typical Foundry. Hold us accountable to a set of laws and procedures without telling us what they are.”

I turned to face her, and saw her body silhouetted by the light of white glow ropes and globes within the open-air bar. It was strange, but despite not being able to see her face in the dark, I knew her expression. Hopeful with a touch of cheer, a half-smile, encouraging. Ever optimistic, just like her father. I reached out and took her hands in mine, placing a kiss on the knuckles of her right hand.

This was my wife. My wife. The love of my life. The woman I had wanted to be with since the first time we doodled pictures in school aboard the Vasco Da Gama. No matter where the universe took me, I needed her at my side. She’d been saved from the ills of the Gene Brokers by the likes of the Melcorin, no thanks to me, and I could have kissed the leathery, blue-skinned bastards for it—if they had allowed me.

After getting settled on this world, I had popped the question, using a ring made of junk metal and a piezo electric crystal I’d found in a broken transmitter. Our friend Mary had officiated the quiet ceremony on a hillside to the east of the colony, my parents and a few friends present, and it was done, Shelly in white, her long dress flowing in the wind, me dressed in black, a leather jacket with a crimson, razor-sharp edge blossom pinned dangerously to its right lapel. We’d given our vows, kissed, and tripped over one another’s feet as we spun to face our audience, the two of us tumbling onto the dirt in a heap. The blossom had cut me on the arm in the fall, drawing blood, but I’d hardly felt the pain as the purest form of laugher escaped us.

Shelly squeezed my fingers.

“We’ll be fine,” I sighed, and let go. My attention fell on my right hand, the end of the ivory-and-gold prosthetic arm given to me after the donation of my arm to the Foundry. My fingers flexed like flesh but were anything but. Four years of subjective time I’d had this thing, and the matching leg. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to it, but at least I wasn’t the only freak who’d made a donation. The donation was a part of me now, a reminder of how I’d changed since leaving Earth, of what I’d given up.

The Foundry protects life.

I raised my eyes once more. “FICSE mission folk are tough. We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this too.”

“Funny thing,” she started, her tone wistful, hair falling into her eyes, “you dreamed of touching stars, but in the end found yourself digging in the dirt.”

“Such is life.” I brushed her curls back behind her ear, allowing her eyes to glimmer in the dark. “We all have to do our part. Maybe I can help with the food crisis and cut back a bit.”

“You?” She patted my belly. “No. You’re already skin and bones. You eat any less and they’ll think you’re some moleque from the favelas who snuck onto Novae.”

I chuckled. “You’ve been hanging around Mom, haven’t you?”

“Portuguese is a wonderful language.”

“You guys want a drink?” an older middle-aged man with bug-like optics asked us, appearing just outside the open-air bar, a pair of glass mason jars in one hand, a jug of sloshing amber liquid in the other. Perry was always an excellent host, but now wasn't the time.

“I’d rather not wake up feeling like my head is in a vice tomorrow morning,” Shelly replied before I had the chance.

“Did you say headache?” he asked, shocked. The goggles over his eyes, meant to replace his vision after a failed experiment had taken it, made a whirring noise as they adjusted focus. “A headache? No. No. No. I’ve got it all worked out now. That Santi-berry business stuff I made last. I’ll admit, it was bad. There’s a protein in the fruit that caused all that mess. It’s fine now. We’re using Yellow Rondure. My sweetgums says it’s safe, by the way. Tastes just like an apple. I promise, one sip of this, and you’ll be transported to the shady groves of red deliciouses back on Earth. No shoddy products at Invictus, not anymore.”

“What if I have no idea what an apple tastes like?” I asked, being honest. I was pretty sure I’d eaten an apple aboard the Vasco Da Gama at least once, but I had to have been no older than six. Trees didn’t travel well through deep space. They needed room to grow and thrive, a place like this, not a garden in a steel box.

Perry’s brows crinkled at the edges of his visor. Pretty sure he was narrowing his eyes at me. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Tastes good either way. Come on, let me pour you some.”

I raised my hands in objection. “Not today, barkeep. A part of me knows trying this today is a bad idea.”

“Bad idea? No, no. A bad idea is being a fish who thinks a hook is a great way to get a lip piercing.”

Shelly gave me a withering look, clearly unamused. Perry’s jokes hadn’t gotten any better with time. “Look, Perry, when the Cultural Center is complete, please don’t start up a comedy night. I’d hate to have to boycott you.”

“I will have you know that everyone at Invictus loves my jokes!”

“But after how many drinks?” She pointed at the amber jug he carried.

He scowled. “So mean.”

What Perry lacked in comedy, he made up for a hundred-fold in other ways. I had known him almost my entire life, and we had become close friends in the past five to six years of subjective time. Acting as a kind of therapist, he had helped me work through much of my mixed feelings over my parents, and been an important part of my crew aboard the Fidelis, the ship the Foundry had gifted me.

“Here’s a good one,” Perry went on, ignoring Shelly’s annoyance. “If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring?”

I rolled my eyes. “What, Perry? What do they bring?”

“Pilgrims!” he said, raising the sloshing jug above his head in exclamation. “Ah! Ah? Come on. It was great! Didn’t you get it?”

“No. I don’t get it.”

Shelly grinned and patted me on the back. “Seasons, love. He’s talking about seasons and the start of America.”

“Oh. Wait. Like, the Mayflower? The ship? Columbus?”

“Yes, like the ship.”

“Still don’t see how that’s supposed to be funny.”

“Come on,” Perry said, then laughed. “It’s great. Pilgrims…”

Across the colony came a thundering boom, and the lights and music of the bar went dead, leaving my ears buzzing in their absence, my vision filled with spots. The fragile network my implants connected with was no longer present, leaving me feeling empty, exposed. I reached for a weapon on my hip that wasn’t there.

The crowd of Invictus began to murmur in alarm.

“Shelly?” I whispered, hand searching in her direction. She took hold of my fingers, and I felt my heart calm if only a little. I blinked several times, trying to adjust to the darkness like I had with the bright lights of the shuttle’s engines.

“Christ on a cracker,” Perry cursed, and something shattered at his feet, the smell of alcohol in the air strong, burning the hairs of my nose. “Damn it. That’s a wasted batch. Nothing to do about it now. Did another one of the generators go down? Or did we run out of feculent coal?”

“Hard to say,” Shelly replied, her voice calm as ever. “But the cause doesn’t matter right now, we need to get everyone inside. Sawtooths like to hang around in the dark. Pretty sure they might like the taste of humans.”

A cool wind whipped over the hillside, pulling at my jacket, reminding me that bundles of quills and rows of teeth were hiding in the dark. Were my mechanical augmentations enough to fight back against this apex fauna? I hadn’t put them to the test.

Hand lights began to switch on around us, shooting out at every angle, their sharp lights casting heavy shadows, making it somehow both easier and more difficult to see. Some held theirs in their palms, while others clipped them to their chests. Thank the Universe we had these. It was a moonless night, despite Novae having two, and even with a brilliant view of distant galaxies wheeling overhead, our little settlement seemed swallowed by the void.

Perry edged towards his patrons, careful not to trip over broken glass, and began gathering them up. “Come on everyone, come on. Invictus is closed for the night. Let’s get you safely back home. No worries, here, we’ll get the power situation worked out.”

“What about the backups?” someone asked.

“I don’t know if I can walk.”

A woman sighed. “I’ve got you.”

“This place needs walls,” another grumbled. “A hard day’s work behind you and can’t even get a drink in peace.”

“Calm down,” Perry assured them. “We’ll sort it all out in the morning.”

There came a cry in the dark, a shriek like a large bird with an edge like an idling chainsaw. Commanding shouts came from the other side of the bar towards the center of the colony. Security was sweeping the area, which was good, but people could easily be dragged out into the night with little or no way to stop it.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That sound meant feline forms stalking the dark around us looking for morsels. A pack of nocturnal hunters with iron-hard quills and mouths jointed too many times to ever be mistaken for terrestrial. They were the stuff of nightmares, which didn’t answer to sharp words, screams, or the wild waving of the arms like the other animals might, but only to that of a fully jacketed round. Hunters who embraced the dark and loathed any form of light, for which we now had little. Every ecosystem had apex predators, a creature at the top of the food chain, and sawtooths, well, they sat at the top and called Novae home just like us. The trouble was, they were here first, and they knew this place better than we did.

“Everyone calm down, stay together,” Shelly said, helping herd the departing crowd. “Let’s get indoors. Storage Warehouse 3 is not far away, just down the hill. We’ll be safe in there till they get the lights back on. Afterwards everyone can walk home.”

“Perry!” a man called from off in the dark, appearing before us a moment later with a wispy, older woman dressed in dirt-covered overalls at his side. He was broad shouldered, dressed in well-worn work clothes, and bore a shoulder-length crop of golden hair as well as a thick, golden beard.

“Lance,” Perry said, relieved. “Good to see you.”

“Alyssa and I are headed over to work on the generator.”

“Okay,” he replied, and went to the woman, giving her a tight hug. “Glad you’re okay, sweet cheeks.” 

“I’m fine,” she said, kissing him on the lips, having cocked her head to avoid her nose colliding with his goggles. “Though a touch tired of putting out fires. I signed up to save the world, not be a stinkin’ pioneer.”

The kiss put a bit of steel in Perry’s back, standing him upright. It did wonders for your confidence, having someone in your life who loves and believes in you.

“Hey, Lance,” I said, reaching out my prosthetic hand in greeting, for which he accepted. “We’re going to get these drunken idiots to safety. After that, need any help? I’m at your disposal.”

Lance Brittan shook his head. “Nah, we got this. Not sure what the issue is yet, but it’s likely we ran out of feculent coal. Great biofuel, sure, easy to get and all, but a pain in the ass to burn right. This will be the last time we make that mistake.”

“You’re doing great,” Shelly assured him. “I’ve gone over the numbers a hundred times. At a specific temperature, that fuel burns three times as fast. Unfortunately, that temperature can change based on far too many factors. Humidity mostly. Compression too. Our Arm will keep at it. You have my word.”

“Abundant fuel. Couldn’t be simple.”

“Never. And we’re working on it. Okay?”

“I know. I know.” Lance spun around and raised his voice, shouting at someone I couldn’t see in the dark, “Hey! Donaldson! Anyone out there sweeping for those things? It’s too dark out there. You tell Chevelle she needs to get your asses organized.”

It had taken years for Lance and me to reach a good place. He had been Shelly’s other half several times growing up, especially during the period of years she and I hadn’t been talking. The son of one of our former pilots, he had lived a life of additional privileges, much like her, and as a result he had turned out to be a bit of a self-centered adult. Time and circumstance had softened his edges. Sure, he could still be an asshole, but he was a good kind of asshole. Most of the time.

We urged the crowd towards the center of the colony, down the main road. I could see armed personnel weaving through rows of buildings made of smooth stone, flashlights mounted at the end of their weapons. Chevelle and Donaldson had roused the minutemen and were hunting sawtooths. If there was one thing we’d gotten good at over the past few years, it was getting our asses in motion during a crisis. You just couldn’t live in a crisis all the time.

A few warning shots were fired near the edge of Eighth Street. Colonists shouted in response and redoubled their efforts to keep everyone moving.

“Milo,” a voice rang out inside my head. “Milo.”

I skidded to a halt and closed my eyes.

“Everything okay?” Shelly asked, taking hold of my arm.

I shook my head in response. “Proxy,” I whispered, and pointed up to the sky.

Her face blanched. “Oh.”

I took a deep breath and opened the connection. My little, all-knowing, orange-striped tuxedo cat needed to talk, and at a time like this, I couldn’t imagine it was anything good. Rarely did the Foundry’s AI have something positive to say.

“Milo,” Proxy reported, images without context appearing in my mind as it spoke, “I have detected five unknown vessels on course to hit high orbit. I recommend we investigate.”

“A little busy down here,” I replied, using thoughts, not words. The trajectories of the arrivals appeared within my mind’s eye in wireframe above Novae, a pentagonal formation screaming towards the surface. If this squadron of alien ships did not change course, they would hit the outer atmosphere of Novae in less than an hour. 

“I have been keeping track of your situation,” Proxy went on. “And while it might be a bit chaotic on the surface, my assessment is that these contacts are potentially more dangerous than your local wildlife troubles.”

“Who are they? Jevox? Melcorin? One of the others?”

“As I said…” The AI sounded somewhat annoyed for a moment. “They are unknown. They are of a design with which we are not familiar.”

“Hah. So, the almighty Foundry has no idea what they are?”

“We do not know everything, Milo. And sometimes, even when we do, we do not have ready access to that information.”

“Okay. Okay. Fine. Tactical analysis?”

“I have already given it to you. Get into orbit and we will intercept them.”

I closed the connection.

“Shit,” I growled. “I have to go. Something’s headed our way, but I can’t leave you down here in the middle of a crisis.”

Shelly shook her head. “We’ll be fine. On the other hand, if something destroys us from orbit…”

“You could go with me,” I offered. “There’s no safer place than on my ship. They’ve got this covered down here.”

She leaned in and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Be careful, love.”

With a sense of resignation, I let out a long sigh. “You’re right. You’re right.”

I turned to leave, the lights from the crowded group fading over my shoulder, leaving me in the dark. Though I knew my way to the platform by memory, I found myself tripping over rocks and catching my feet.

A growl came from the shadows off to my right, that idling machine shriek, and I took off running. I could see the outline of my shuttle over the trees ahead, its shape blocking out a series of flashing lights. Though I had the mechanical augmentations of my arm and leg, it did not make me much faster.

Something hard slammed against me in the dark, knocking me off balance yet not onto the ground. I twisted around, arms raised, my hand light shining in the direction that it had gone. Gravel shifted on my left, tiny stones crunching, then on my right. An ominous, guttural purr rose a series of needles across my back. I was not prepared to fight a sawtooth. I was unarmed and alone.

From the dark came three bursts of light and crackling booms. A bleeding alien form slid to a halt at my feet, its multi-jointed face and jaw twitching.

“God, I freakin’ hate nature,” Karianna growled, walking into the glow of my hand light. “You okay?” I raised my shaking hand, pointing the light at her face. The blade of a woman raised her prosthetic hand, metal bracelets jingling, and squinted her eyes. “The hell, dude.”

“Sorry,” I breathed out, lowering my light. “Thanks.”

She shook her head at me. “Whatever.” And reached for a pistol tucked in the back of her jeans, tossing it to me.

I caught the weapon and clutched it tight.

“Milo, what did you plan on doing? Karate chopping the damn things?”

“Forgot my gun at home,” I replied.

“Good thing I carry a spare.”

“Look, I’m a lover, not a fighter.

She barked a laugh, the serious features of her hawkish face exaggerating. “Says the man who has one of the most powerful war machines in existence waiting for him overhead.”

“It’s a responsibility, not something I was looking for.”

“Mmmhmm.”

A moment later the two of us were hopping into our respective Swift Shuttles, stripping out of our clothes and submerging ourselves into orbs of clear liquid eight feet across. After the near miss, I was more than grateful for my ship’s protection.

As we sank to the bottom of the Star Spheres, a series of tentacle-like umbilicals interfaced with our bodies, providing us with air, with nutrients, with a constant feed of information. Connections sprang to life, and in an instant, we were one with our ships, and the ships were one with us. 

Our triangular shuttles ignited their engines and screamed off into the night at a breakneck twenty-five Gs of acceleration, a delta in velocity so great it would turn an unprotected human into a pile of mush. They sliced through the atmosphere like a pair of curved and jagged blades, but Karianna and I felt no discomfort. Our Star Spheres, the machines the Foundry built for us to pilot our ships, were specially designed to protect us from intense G forces, their fluid distributing the pressure such that no one part of our body was overtaxed. This made flying any Foundry-made craft from within a Star Sphere feel as if it were an extension of your own body, not just a machine at your command. The Swift Shuttle was no exception.

“Two minutes for coupling to the Fidelis,” I heard Proxy say before the cat appeared beside me.

My body was floating in a field of endless stars, both outside of the shuttle, and not yet within the Fidelis, a virtual environment to help me control and contextualize the information given to me. I had three-dimensional, free movement in local space, complete with prismatic visual feedback and streams of data, granted through a mental projection the ship gave me from within the sphere.

I reached down and gave Proxy a scratch behind the ear and the cat began to purr. While it might not be a true feline, and just some weird AI facsimile, this warmed my heart nonetheless.

As the Swift Shuttle broke free of Novae’s atmosphere, Prima, the equatorial continent our colony was founded upon, became a shrinking expanse of a few scattered lights, this side of the planet shrouded by night. The Fidelis was up ahead, beckoning me, a skyscraper-sized hunk of white and gold the shape of a crystal shard, flat at one end, jagged at the other. North of it, towards the planet’s pole ten thousand one hundred and fifteen kilometers away, was Karianna’s ship. It was made of the same material as mine, but instead mostly gold and black, and was shaped like a three-dimensional diamond printed on a deck of playing cards.

“You ready to kick some ass?” Karianna asked, her voice echoing into my virtual environment.

“Only if we need to,” I replied. “Not every answer comes at the end of a gun barrel.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Let me ask first. Have we gotten executive approval?”

“Who’s going to stop us?”

“We live in a democracy, not a dictatorship.”

“Fine, fine.” She paused for a moment. “Novae control, this is Karianna Torlen of the Reverie. Requesting orders of engagement for unknown spacecraft headed towards the colony.”

A moment passed. No response came from the surface.

“Don’t be a smart ass,” I replied.

“Power is out, Mr. Hughes. Looks like we’re going to have to use our best judgement.”

“Fine. Let’s do everything in our power to keep from firing. If they get too close, we’ll do what needs doing.”

“Much better.”

“We don’t need to make enemies unless we have to.”

Karianna let out an exasperated sigh. “Ugh. I guess you’re right. Not as fun, though.”

“You want to blow things up? We’ll go bust some rocks in the asteroid belt later.”

“Now you got yourself a date, fly boy.”

“Sorry, miss. If you haven’t noticed, I’m taken.”

“Alright, alright. Stick with your wife, or whatever. Bring her along.”

“She doesn’t care much for flying.”

“Really? Well, that’s too bad. Flying is life.”

My Swift Shuttle slipped into a port on the belly of the Fidelis and locked into place. There was no time to move into my primary Star Sphere near the bow of the ship, nor was there any need. I was aboard my battleship, and I could control it from anywhere within.

The targets were less than two hundred thousand kilometers from our position and screaming towards the surface. I ramped up the main drive and brought the Fidelis around, activating the Mercurial Integumentum as I did so, the protective shield of nanobots swarming around me like a second skin.

“Proxy,” I said, peering down at the cat that weaved itself between my floating legs, rubbing them with its face. “Have you attempted to make contact with the targets?”

“Yes. No response.” It purred against me.

“Do we not understand their language, or are they just being difficult?”

“Hard to say.”

“Let’s try and scare them off. Power up the Para Lux array. I’m going to get between them and the planet. Karianna, why don’t we take a wide formation. You head them off so they can’t cut around and go for the colony.”

“Alright. Going to get all my weapons up and bright. Time to look like a big, terrifying animal.”

The unidentified ships drew closer, their shapes resolving into something substantial. I got my first glimpse at them and frowned. Each were about as large as an acre of land and were shaped like starfish, their orange and black hulls covered in fractal patterns that reminded me of the inside of sunflower blooms or the outside of pinecones. While they appeared organic at a distance, nothing about the scans that returned supported this idea. Far as I knew, there was nothing truly organic living in the void.

“Any weapons?” I asked Proxy.

“There are high-energy signatures near the center of mass in excess of ten terawatts, but that is all I can see. They are fusion-powered. Not of Foundry make.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Hardly. If they were of Foundry make, we would know what we are up against. Tactical analysis is much simpler that way. This is an unknown.”

A valid point. This was one of the reasons the Foundry recycled all arriving ships when a species visited its facilities, regardless of their technological level. It gave every species who took their assistance an even playing field.

“Almost in position,” Karianna said, “they’re still coming.”

“Proxy, keep trying to make contact. Karianna, let’s give them a light show.”

“Hell yeah.”

The Para Lux arrays on both the Fidelis and Reverie blossomed as we began to cast beams of high-intensity light all around the unknown ships, careful not to cross their paths and slice them in two. The rainbow beams of pure light flashed within our virtual spaces but were hardly visible on the visual spectrum without any atmospheric gases to reflect against.

We got the desired effect. The starfish-like craft broke formation and began to scatter, fusion drives flashing bright. Two turned the opposite direction, slowing themselves to head away from us at a dangerous, fifty G shift, while two angled themselves to miss Novae and head off into the void. The last of them, however, deviated only a little.

“That one’s headed for the surface,” Karianna said.

I threw the Fidelis into a hard burn and moved to intercept. While this ship could travel faster than fifty percent of light speed, it was massive and required considerable effort to turn. The starfish ship shot past us.

“We have to scare it off.”

“Fighters?”

“No ancillary pilots on board, just us. I can’t control more than about four at a time by myself.”

“This isn’t a dog fight, Hughes. Throw a damn swarm at them, they won’t know the difference.”

She had a point. “Okay. Proxy, launch a wing of drone fighters.”

As I pivoted the Fidelis around to pursue, a half-dozen diamond shaped fighters shot from my belly and rushed towards the unknown ship. I did my best to plot courses that might make them appear as if they had physical pilots.

A few thousand kilometers separated the invader and the surface of Novae. My heart thundered in my chest.

“Get ready to shoot it down,” Karianna said.

“No. We wait.”

“Do you see how close it is to Novae? I’m serious. We have to kill it. Now—while we can.”

“We don’t know what it is or what it wants.”

“I’m taking it down.”

“Wait! Please wait. We can’t make more enemies.”

Karianna screamed into the open channel, “Pacifist!”

“I’ve been called worse,” I mumbled.

Just as the starfish was about to hit the upper atmosphere, the first of our fighters reached it. Without preamble, the unknown ship took a hard turn in response and banked upward, heading off into open space, a trail of blue, ionized gas at its tail. 

   “They are retreating,” Proxy reported. “I would keep an eye on the closest of them, but the rest are accelerating away.”

“That was an unnecessary risk,” Karianna told me.

I swallowed. She was right, but did attacking someone who showed us no direct threat make any sense either? In the end, no weapons had been used. No overtly aggressive actions taken. They had merely entered our airspace as explorers while keeping their lips sealed.

“They’ll come back, ya know?” Karianna ventured when I had not responded.

I shook my head. “Not this time.”

“We’ll see about that. We’ll see.”