Our delegation advanced along a narrow and dark corridor, illuminated only by the dim glows of energy conduits. English walked ahead, Mako behind him, and I brought up the rear.
From the darkness emerged a T-shaped fork with massive elevator doors in the center.
Approaching the panel next to the platform, English pressed his instrumentarium to it. Fan scanners swept over the code embossed on the device, immediately releasing the gravi-locks.
"Ladies first!" standing in the middle of the elevator doors, I yielded passage to Mako.
In response to the gesture, the sullen first mate silently grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me onto the platform.
English entered the required code on the panel; the elevator immediately moved upward, gradually gaining speed; light lines of floors flashed by incredibly fast and vanished into the gloom, until at one moment we soared toward the clouds.
"And yet, sometimes this place can be beautiful too..." when the darkness gave way to the beauty of the new cycle, I held my breath.
The platform left the shaft and now flew along magnetic rails right on the edge of the tower. Observing the sunset through the force field, I saw both the snow-white spires of the inner circle, whose grandeur was indisputable, and that very alley we'd trudged through to get there.
Hundreds of skyscrapers, like fairy-tale titans, held up the vault of the man-made dome, imitating the skies of Old Earth – "Ark-Terra," which no one had seen with their own eyes.
The screens of "Watchman-XVII" allowed the local star to illuminate this steel city, but we didn't have time to properly enjoy the grandeur of this astroengineering wonder, for literally a second later the elevator plunged back into the shaft and stopped before a door of platinum steel.
The luxurious, engraved doors slowly parted, inviting us inside.
One step forward, and the gloomy corridors abruptly gave way to the beautifully lit halls of the parliament, filled with snow-white columns with gilding, blood-red silk emblems, and other luxuries that blinded the eyes.
"Interesting how it turns out... Down below, people live in their excrement, and here everything's so clean you could eat off the floor?"
"Unfortunately, Captain... the staff can't cope with maintaining all sections of the station…" English grimaced, trying to hide his own embarrassment.
"And I think the problem's with the local Ferdinand, who doesn't give a damn…" I swept my gaze over the empty hall with statues of commanders and a huge painting covering the entire wall.
The portrait depicted a tall gray-eyed man with equally gray hair and an augment-covered chin. The Imperian stood full height, leaning on a curved blade in black scabbards, resembling a long katana. And his white cape was crowned with a multitude of awards and seemed to flutter in the wind.
"He does care, but mercenaries are too unstable a contingent to worry about them..."
Hearing the familiar voice, I turned around.
From behind the blind turn emerged a stately man in the signature imperial doublet, whose gaze was like the cold of the void itself. Unexpectedly, Deimos Heselhof himself had come to meet us.
"But let's end the pleasantries, Captain Yutsuo; I ask you to follow me to the meeting hall. At ease, Sigard!" the old man glanced toward his subordinate.
"Yes, sir!" the guy stopped saluting.
"So I'm also 'unstable contingent.'" something inside me short-circuited.
"Maybe you didn't know, Admiral, but we were ATTACKED just now, and my first mate was wounded. Street gangs roam the outer ring like their own living room, and you don't give a damn enough to build another tower from your shit! You should…"
"Captain! Calm down! You know perfectly well we wouldn't risk you or our reputation without good cause. There's no time for farce now; we're on the brink of war."
Approaching the Admiral, I began drumming my fingers.
"No... You'll have time for that! BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ASSHOLE BECAUSE OF WHOM I ALMOST LOST THE MOST PRECIOUS THING!!! And not in battle with an armada... but in a vomit-soaked alley!"
One motion, and the dagger would slip out. Slitting the throat of the imperial rat...
"If something happened to Mako, your fancy station would go to the bottom... with you..."
English stepped aside and blocked my path to the Admiral.
"Captain, please, don't do something you'll regret."
"Calm down, please... I'm already fine! Really! This incident isn't worth acting like that…" Mako wrapped her arm around mine.
"Admiral, did you say something about war?"
Exhaling loudly, I smiled at Deimos, forcibly pulling on the mask of the jester.
"Follow me; soon you'll learn everything…" elegantly turning, Deimos led us along the snow-white corridors.
It was as if no one was around, but the wall panels resembling cabinet doors could contain anything inside: from turrets to bionic "Stagnant" dolls.
After a brief tour, we stopped near a large painted door, next to which a crowd in expensive garb had gathered.
"Oh! Admiral Heselhof. Finally. Now we can begin!" the voice of the short Comandantum sounded from inside the room.
Pushing through the cluster of white and gold robes, we found ourselves in a well-lit hall resembling a theater. They even allocated gravi-chairs for Mako and me in the front rows, next to the admiral himself.
"And how did they know how many of us would come?" I plopped into the gravi-chair.
Mako and Deimos followed the knight, interestedly awaiting what would happen next.
The balding little man in an oversized black-and-gold cloak stepped to the podium and stood on the elevation to reach it:
"Esteemed knight-legionaries! And... demon..." he glanced toward the Andjin.
"Today we gathered you here to find a way out of the situation that promises to become the greatest catastrophe since the 'Iridosmine War'! Whew... Few know, but literally yesterday the station 'Saishin-VII' was destroyed..."
A chilling horror rolled through the hall; a constricting silence hung over us, until the first awakened renounced this dream.
"WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU SPEWING?! The fifth and ninth expeditionary fleets were based there?! Equistella could repel an attack from TEN PIRATE SQUADRONS!!! This is disinformation; the station had the latest railtron guns!!! We…"
And while countless voices shouted over each other trying to get to the truth, I quietly whispered: "And so it has come... the 'Jade Plague'..."
"SILENCE IN THE HALL!!!" the admiral rose from his chair and in one leap was on the podium, causing crowd bewilderment.
"It's true! I was the one commanding the defense of 'Saishin,' and I made the decision to retreat into hyperspace!!! Yes, we were prepared for a Cartel attack, BUT WHAT WE FACED – IS BEYOND HUMAN COMPREHENSION!!!" the admiral waved a hand toward the technician standing next to the console.
"My soldiers fought this beast to the end, and in the end couldn't even scratch it... In my whole life, I've felt fear only twice, and this was the second time..."
And when the main screen flared with snow-white glow, activating the holographic projection, time in the hall stopped its course.
Chains of horror shackled my mind, for I saw a portal with four facets, like a cornucopia spewing forth dozens and hundreds of starships – Thomas had then called them "Lictors."
Chrysolite flames of beam weapons irrigated space; the jade swarm furiously embedded into the defensive fleet, but before the light starships of the militia were torn to shreds, subspace was abandoned by a shadow that covered an entire station.
The bud of a crystalline water lily bristled with needles of the tail stem; its armor petals spun like blades of an asteroid drill, and the beak located exactly in the center of the nine-kilometer construct gaped open, reddening from impulses sent to the main caliber, until the amplitude reached its peak.
The cross of the world-creator was reborn as a pillar of rainbow light – a click of force from a thousand suns that erased civilian ships from this reality with a single ascension, then crashed down, slicing the militia destroyer and plunging into the city.
Divine retribution was to disembowel the target, but it stopped upon contact with the last human bastion – baryon shields.
The seven-colored beam split into a hundred light bundles, giving the inhabitants of "Saishin" a chance to reach the rescue "Arks."
After the strike, the "Hive" closed the beak flaps, studying the space around with the aid of seven rhomb-sensor crosses. Coordination of the alien squadrons immediately grew; "Lictors" tore the militia fleet to rags, suffering almost no losses – their victory seemed obvious, but...
Repair docks cracked, releasing the attached starship – "Supernova."
The superdreadnought unleashed all warheads; the missile salvo sprinkled the void with hundreds of light sections that plunged into the enemy formation, enveloping targets like a veil, so that the vanguard cluster of "Lictors" became dust in the maw of kinetic shrapnel.
Exuding mute hatred, the "Hive" turned all sensors toward the impudent foe.
Taking advantage of the moment when the orchestra of shells and beams would begin to flicker brighter than any stars, the arks left the station in an attempt to hide behind the remnants of the militia.
Ironically, the alien flagship wasn't interested in people; it executed a clear order and once more flung open the four flaps of its maw. The cross-flash flickered in the void; the light of the angelic blade cleaved the baryon shield and pierced the "Saishin" hull through.
The station lost its central core; myriads of cascading detonations scattered across the black hull, forcing the fortress to disintegrate into pieces.
Refugees and militiamen could hope only for a miracle... and it happened.
The three-barreled artillery guns of "Supernova" locked onto the void's abomination, and as soon as the induction boosters parted, the battlefield divided into "before" and "after."
The "Hive's" flaps didn't manage to snap shut; the glow of thunder spears passed by them and vanished into the bud's throat, which choked on its own blood. Energy stripes on its hull flashed brighter than stars, but a moment later went dark, yielding to eternal blackness.
The alien ship froze, and purple cracks ran across its hull.
The admiral realized what would follow and commanded allies to enter its dreadnought's gravitational well. Surviving ships rushed toward the flagship.
The last thing captured was a light wave of colossal power, creating a crack on the face of an unknown part of reality.
The dimension of death took the "Hive" and all its escort to the other side of the horizon, then collapsed with the echo of a funeral wail that became like an angelic nimbus accompanying those fortunate enough to escape.
Having familiarized with the chronicle, the legionaries didn't dare insert a word, watching as some scientist climbed the podium.
"We gave this specimen the name: 'Anacharsis' – invincible, not hard to guess why…" the explorer stood against the frozen hologram, nervously shifting from foot to foot.
"Its hull consists of a material absent from the periodic table, and only in unofficial works of Gis-Aster are there hints of the existence of such 'crystals'... which cannot be mined... by methods familiar to us..." the explorer wiped sweat from his brow.
"For they... heh-heh... are alive..." at these words, the guy changed the frame behind him.
The picture we saw could easily shatter someone's sanity.
A certain research group was conducting a vivisection on a downed "Lictor," too late realizing the entity wasn't dead, imperceptibly infecting people with coal mist.
"According to analysis, special 'nano-mechanisms' are responsible for producing and maintaining the crystalline nanogrid! They communicate with each other via barely detectable psi-signals... and now... they are coming from hundreds of uninhabitable planets and sectors..."
At first, complex workers lost sleep, then began feeling erratic pains, and when the lab's "Neuro-Nexus" submitted to the swarm's mind, it was already too late.
Cut off from the world, people gradually weakened; their skin covered with crystals that tore flesh and crushed bones. Those who tried to destroy the "Lictor" fused with its roots first, which like veins entwined the entire station.
"But that's not all... Our 'guests' can, so to speak, appear out of nowhere, violating all our theories on spatial transitions..."
Only one person survived – a paranoid who slept in a spacesuit and hid on technical decks. Seizing the moment, he left the station and arrived at "Watchman."
"Comparing various data... including ancient tablets... we've concluded that these beings... 'Isomorphs'... precursors we thought an extinct race..."
Having only essence but no form, the infector ground the unfortunates into roaring half-alive branches of flesh and bone that like fruits birthed dozens of new "Lictors," but further reproduction was prevented.
The last slide showed a linear gray-yellow ship that trained twelve snow-white beams on the station and buried the jade beasts in hell.
"The good news is the mist isn't very contagious! Nanites execute simple algorithms, and in small quantities can't harm a human. They always need a powerful signal source for activation... Like that 'big guy'..." the scientist fidgeted a bit more.
"The bad is that the group responsible for research in this area has vanished… Project: 'Trillium'..."
The admiral was already ready to shut the scientist up, but the kid changed the topic himself.
"Ahem! We've already developed a countermeasure against the threat, but the blueprints for the tachyon armament project were stolen, and their developer went missing! We need to send all forces to search for this scientist... His name: Thomas Gabriel..."
Mako strangely glanced at me, to which I just shook my head.
"The only working prototype is now aboard the flagship of the Esquires' expeditionary knight fleet – 'Supernova,' but it sustained heavy damage... and can't fire... Now we have nothing to answer the 'Anacharsises' with…" the scientific worker lowered his gaze.
"Gabriel Thomas – target number one! Without his knowledge, Alpha sector falls; aliens will hack SSSTM gate codes and learn their locations, passing the quarantine zone. This will be the end of all humanity..." Deimos's steel voice shackled people in chains of fear.
And yet, if the Imperians had more time, they would try to find a way out... but... whispers were interrupted by a short exclamation.
"ADMIRAL!!!" an imperial soldier burst into the hall.
"What happened?! We're in the middle of an important meeting!" Deimos frowned displeasedly, watching the young man in military uniform nearly collapse from fatigue.
"Admiral, urgent report!" in the legionary's gaze was only one emotion, and upon accepting it, everyone in the hall immediately guessed what he'd say.
"Sensors register multiple subspace shifts near the station; we..."
The floor shuddered with colossal force, and the lighting went out, replaced by the red glows of emergency lamps.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!!!" the legionary ran to the Admiral and took him under the arm, helping the old man keep balance.
Sensing something beyond my own comprehension, I mechanically rose from my seat.
A whisper piercing eternity from a once-buried horror pinned my gaze to itself, wanting to tell stories of its wanderings... wanting to find its lost purpose and fulfill the unbreakable order given to it...
*
1: Ferdinand – prince and (or) procurator of the Ordinatum.
2: Isomorphs – race of precursors who ruled the galaxy presumably ten thousand Sothis cycles ago and left behind numerous archaeotechnologies.
3: Esquires – militarized order of Ordinatum zealots.