Date Point: 3Y 9M 2D AV
Aboard Spot, Vicinity of Hravin IV
Adrian Saunders
Warpdrives made space feel small. Space was not small, not even a bit, and was in fact so staggeringly enormous that the human brain was unable to comprehend it. Hardly a problem for everyday life — even if you included what Adrian’s everyday life had become — but it did present something of an issue when speeding towards an orb of diffuse colour like the gas giant they had a heading for.
”Don’t we have anything to help me judge the distance to this fucking thing?” Adrian asked, thinking back to how this sort of thing had been done in the movies. “Like some kind of black screen with a big green circle to mark the planet and a little green triangle to mark us. Maybe a red dot to show us where that huge fucking spaceship is sitting?”
”Something like this?” Trix replied, putting basically what he’d described onscreen.
”Yeah, something like that,” Adrian replied. “Good job.”
Somehow the awkward silence was conveyed through the speakers, carried by a brief hesitation before Trix responded. “That’s actually just a static image I mocked up.”
”So that’s not a real thing then?”
”It looks really useful though,” Trix added. “I can see why you’d want it.”
Adrian sighed, rubbing his brow in frustration. “Maybe we could just get a verbal outline of our situation then?”
”I can give you that,” Askit volunteered, his tone already preparing Adrian for bad news, and Askit did not fail to deliver. “We’ve been relying on the research station’s sensor suite to augment our own, that’s how we’ve been tracking our pursuer. I’ve just lost the connection to the station.”
Knowing that it was probably some form of worst-case-scenario, Adrian asked the question anyway. “What happened to it?”
”Somebody else got in and locked me out,” Askit explained, eyes fixed to his data-pad and fingers working furiously in what was undoubtedly some struggle for computerised dominance. He stopped abruptly and snarled in the weak kind of way that only a Corti can manage. “And now the whole network is offline. I’d say the enemy knew what we were doing with it.”
”What about our computer systems?” Adrian asked. “If they gave you that much trouble on the station…”
”Even by Corti’s standards I’m paranoid about cyber-security,” Askit replied, appearing to double-check nonetheless. His immediate frown was indication enough that not all was well. “We’re very lucky I am. It looks as though several thousand access attempts are being blocked every (minute). I’ve just shut down all external computer access, so we’ll be safe.”
”I do not feel safe!” Xayn noted. “This is a capable enemy with an overpowering advantage in raw firepower. At any moment we might be completely destroyed, we cannot run, and we have no means to fight back!”
Adrian ignored him. “That’s a lot of attempts. Has to be automated, right?”
”That is the most likely probability,” Askit replied. “But it’s also possible that it was a digitised intelligence like Trycrur. We’ve never dealt with anything like this from the Hierarchy before…”
”That is because it is not this Hierarchy,” Xayn interjected, and puffed up when all eyes turned to him. “I had thought it myth, nothing more than a story… but I am certain that that ship is the vessel of the Deceiver.”
”We’re about to be told a story, aren’t we?” Askit asked, glancing sidelong at Adrian. “Even though we’re currently running for our lives.”
”It is pertinent,” Xayn growled. “My father said that it was important to understand your enemy. How do you deliver the mortal blow if you do not know where his heart is?”
”Know thy enemy,” Adrian paraphrased, not surprised that the maxim transcended Deathworld species. “Give us the short version.”
Xayn coughed and sputtered. “This is the story of the V’Straki origin! A long and intricate tale that, when skillfully told, transports the listener back to the days of Yarr and Porthor! I will not diminish it by simply abridging it!”
”Are you serious!?” Askit cried out, flabbergasted. “We’re about to be killed!”
It was clear that Xayn wasn’t going to budge, so Adrian opted for compromise. “Talk fast,” he said, “and we’ll listen while we work. Best we can do for you, so is it good enough?”
”It’s good enough,” Xayn said with a nod. He shifted into a position he seemed to find more suitable for storytelling and took their silence as his cue to begin. “The tale of my people begins on V’Strak, in a time of bloody war between the great Thardis Maradian and the poisonous Grotcheka, at their final battle in Coivea…”
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Date Point: Sixty-Five Million Years Ago
Atop the Battlements in Coivea
Thardis Maradian
“Die, you hateful thing,” Thardis snarled, hacking his sword through the next Grotcheka to pull itself over the battlements. It screamed as he hit it, and recoiled only long enough to receive a second, terminal blow. Thardis shoved it off the ladder and back over the wall, tumbling down into the swarming legion of its fellows. The walls of Coivea had stood for three hundred cycles and had never been broken, but with a Grotcheka victory all but assured should they take this one last keep, they were not holding anything back, and in spite of what encouragement Thardis yelled to his troops, it was beginning to look as though they’d manage it.
”That’s it for now, Sovereign,” Uvic reported, cleaning his own blade. He looked tired — like the rest of them he probably hadn’t had a proper sleep in days — but his determination had not wavered. “More to come soon enough; the Grotcheka seem to love death by my sword.”
”Their numbers seem endless,” Thardis mused, looking again at the roiling masses of troops below. It seemed hopeless, but if they did not stop the Grotcheka here it would be the end of his people. “But we will prevail. We must prevail.”
”Vared promised reinforcements,” Uvic reminded him. “He sent a Skylord to vouchsafe that promise. I believe he will come.”
It wasn’t a halfday before Uvic’s words rang true. Vared was of the Kavendi Tor, renowned for the size and quality of its Pteradons. The soldiers of the Tor wore light armour and rode the beasts like Thardis rode his Three-horn. They swept across the skies and dropped flaming packages of choking powder across the battlefield, laying thick yellow fog that obscured the dying Grotcheka.
Thardis watched it from safety on high, knowing that it was at most a temporary reprieve, but glad of it nonetheless. He heard the wretched screams wither as their owners perished, and waited for silence before turning to Uvic and the Skylord representative.
”Convey my thanks to your master,” Thardis instructed the Skylord. “Let him know that I will remember him once this war is over.”
The Skylord bowed in deepest respect. “Master Vared simply honours the ancient vows, and in any case these are Grotcheka — no thanks are necessary.”
Thardis nodded at the words. They weren’t true, of course — Vared would be expecting considerable reward for his efforts on this day — but deception was part of diplomacy.
”Then tell me,” Thardis continued, “how are your supplies of choking powder?”
The Skylord paused. “Strained. Master Vared hopes that our grand display will dissuade the Grotcheka from continuing to mass their troops below. Until it settles it also grants your men a much needed reprieve from the fighting.”
Much needed was an understatement, Thardis found himself dizzy from fatigue whenever he was not in the thick of battle, but that limit would have soon dissolved had the situation continued. “A worthy expenditure then.”
”We have also been in contact with the legion to the south,” the Skylord added. “Commander Akthi has diverted a third of his force towards severing Grotcheka supply lines to this siege.”
”The clawfoots,” Thardis surmised, and the Skylord nodded confirmation. Akthi’s main forces were primarily heavy mounts and siege weapons mounted atop club-tails, but also contained a significant number of fast-moving clawfoot riders who would do well against supply lines. “A good decision. With that, the Grotcheka should—”
He was interrupted by the sounds of battle, this time far closer to the heart of the keep than he was comfortable in hearing. His hand went to his sword, as did those of Uvic and the Skylord. He didn’t need to wait long to see the cause of the commotion: a swell of Grotcheka coming up from inside the Keep itself!
”Sovereign!” Uvic cried. “They spring from within! How is that possible?”
”It’s simple, Uvic,” Thardis replied, drawing his sword. “They’ve come through the tunnels.”
Uvic shook his head. “Impossible. They are impassable—”
”That is also simple, Uvic,” Thardis replied. “We’ve been betrayed from inside.”
”A matter for later,” said the Skylord, his blade drawn and pointed at the advancing foe. “Best discussed over Grotcheka corpses.”
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Date Point: 3Y 9M 2D AV
Aboard Spot, Vicinity of Hravin IV
Askit
“—and then the battle was once more joined!” Xayn finished grandly, rising from his seat as he spoke the final words. He looked exultant, clearly pleased by hearing the sound of his own voice.
”You said something about this being pertinent!?” Askit snapped. He’d had little to do after disconnecting the ship from external connections, unless you counted lazily coding the display Adrian had briefly specified, and had been forced to give the story more of his attention than he’d have liked.
Adrian, on the other hand, had been extremely busy as he set about accumulating bits and pieces for some arcane purpose. He had taken a superfluous reactor, an extra computer core, and the basic FTL drive, and was currently assembling them with wires and some kind of grey spool of one-sided adhesive. Adrian called it ‘Duct Tape’ but had taken pains to note that it actually didn’t stick to ducts particularly well.
”It is pertinent!” Xayn insisted. “That was simply the first act!”
”How many acts are there?!” Askit demanded. “How long is this story going to take?”
”How close are we to the planet?” Adrian asked, his attention still focused on the mish-mash of technologies he was assembling.
”Too far,” Trycrur replied bleakly. She had also been forced to spend too much of her attention listening to the pointless story. “In absolute terms we’ll reach the upper atmosphere in (fifteen minutes). We will make entry on the dark side of the planet.”
”Good,” Xayn replied. “The darkness will hide us.”
”Our velocity will leave a trail of burning atmosphere leading straight to us,” Trycrur added. “So that is unlikely to help with that.”
”Do you want to tell us what that thing is?” Askit asked Adrian, turning his attention towards the device. He wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was the haphazard construction or the way everything Adrian seemed to do caused inordinate amount of destruction, but it looked like something he should be extremely worried about.
Adrian paused, pondering the device a moment before answering. “It’s sort of… a bomb.”
”We can’t go to warp, and there’s no way we can get close enough to use a bomb,” Askit replied, though he was already getting the kind of sinking feeling he usually experienced before something went terribly wrong and all he could do was watch. “Can we?”
Adrian resumed his work. “If my plan works that won’t be a problem.”
”And if it doesn’t work?” Askit pressed.
”Plan B.”
Askit sighed. “If nothing else I admire your consistency. Will you be assaulting the enemy ship from the front or the back?”
”You really need to have more faith,” Adrian said, chuckling as he turned an eye towards Xayn. “Keep telling your story, mate, it’s good to have something going on in the background.”
Xayn nodded. “Then we return as the battle ends…”
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Date Point: Sixty-Five Million Years Ago
Below the Battlements of Coivea
Thardis Maradian
“Dead,” Thardis muttered under his breath. “Every last one of them. Dead.”
It was a nice wish, but they’d emerged from the once-secret entrance to discover over a thousand Grotcheka waiting for their turn to go in. They were encircled, their backs to the tunnel, but found themselves forced to defend it against an overwhelming foe.
Uvic laughed, his breathing heavy from the deep wound in his side. The broken end of a spear still jutted from it, wrapped in cloth torn from its dead wielder. Most men would be dead from a wound like that, but Uvic had not been chosen as Thardis’ protector for being like most men.
”I’ll tell you what, Sovereign,” he said, still laughing under his breath, “I’ll take the five hundred on the left, you take the five hundred on the right.”
”What about those left over?” Thardis enquired, a resigned smile settling onto his own face. If he was going into the afterlife he was going to bring as many screaming Grotcheka with him as possible.
”We share them,” Uvic replied, laughing into a cough.
The Grotcheka, done with their circling, charged the pair and died by the dozen until the world went dark and the screaming began. A mountain of deep, sapphire blue descending from the sky and piercing the Grotcheka with searing light.
Light that could kill; Thardis wondered if it was perhaps something like fire, but it seemed to cut and cut cleanly. It grew in the skies until it filled them, and then, when it hung above the tallest tower of the keep, blazed a brilliant blue that could not have been anything of this world.
Uvic sank to his knees, holding his side as he stared up at it in a plain mix of terror and joy. Thardis himself followed suit, it seemed natural to lower himself before something of this power, this magnitude, this obvious divinity.
”I have come,” resonated a voice from every space, thunderous yet clear of meaning. “You may now rejoice, for I am your god and you are my chosen people.”
There was no denying the command; it was overwhelming, and issued by a being of such obviously supreme power that it made Jokek the Sky God look pitiful in comparison. What had Jokek ever done for them, besides wither their crops? In a single moment of destructive fury this newcomer had done more for Thardis’s people than anything that had come before.
The new god was accepted, soon revealing His holy name was Dchus. Thardis formally announced that this would be the new state religion, and founded the new, true Church of Dchus, and it was not long before the God’s great blue citadel was seen flitting around the land, searing out the Grotcheka infestation wherever it lay.
The land was returned to peace at last, and Dchus took an active role in reforging the nation into a pleasing form. All of this took place over a mere ten cycles, and by the time it reached its end Thardis was no longer merely Sovereign but was also the head priest in the Church of Dchus.
The path of early V’Straki society was set to endure this way for a thousand cycles before the world was once more swept by war.
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Date Point: 3Y 9M 2D AV
Aboard Spot, Vicinity of Hravin IV
Xayn
The story was reaching its climax, the story of an unwitnessed confrontation between V’Straki rebels and the Deceiver. Adrian nodded and muttered ‘yep’ every now and again to show that he was listening with keen intent as he built his bomb from devices not commonly attributed to explosives.
Askit, the Corti hacker, was reclining in his seat, eyes closed as he concentrated on listening to the story. Xayn nodded appreciatively, allowing oneself to be consumed by the tale was definitely the best way to experience it.
”How long now?” Adrian asked, directing the question to the ship computer-mind. By now the planet had grown in the viewscreen so as to nearly completely fill it, and it seemed so close that you could reach out and touch it.
”Not long,” the computer-mind replied, sounding strangely tired, possibly due to how taxing it must be to plot out a high-velocity re-entry course into a gas giant while escaping the Deceiver. If not for Xayn’s retelling of the Origin story it would undoubtedly be even more tired and stressed than it already was. “We’ll start entering atmosphere soon. As the atmospheric density rises I’m going to have to slow descent, otherwise even our over-built kinetics won’t be capable of resisting the pressure wave.”
”Great,” Adrian replied, but Xayn had enough experience to tell when a word wasn’t being used in a literal sense; Adrian sensibly did not believe that this was actually great. “We’re going to have to stop anyway, though. Re-configure the warp drive to tighten up the bubble, and get us down to wherever doesn’t crush us or where we can still get a warp field to form.”
”Attempting a warp transit through a gravity well this deep would be extremely lethal,” the computer-mind replied. “But that’s not what you’re planning, is it? Even if the gravity didn’t break the field, the enemy craft would knock us out of warp with a gravity spike.”
”We won’t need to go anywhere,” Adrian replied. “We just need to make sure we’re not caught in the blast.”
Askit looked at the collection of parts through one half-opened eye and frowned. “Alright, let’s take a break from storytime and you tell us exactly how the thing that you’re building without any explosives is going to be explosive?”
”It is a poorly constructed warp-bomb,” Xayn explained before Adrian could reply. “My people briefly experimented with the technology before determining that it was far too destructive and scaled it back to the Devastator weaponry aboard the starships.”
”So you’re planning to kill that thing with radiation?” Askit asked, looking warily at the device and pushing back into his seat as though that small distance would help.
”That would require a regulator,” Xayn replied. “The technologies employed by my people took our scientists weeks to construct and days to calibrate in laboratory conditions. This device has been built in (ten minutes) by a soldier in a hurry.”
They looked at Adrian for an expectant moment before he cleared his throat awkwardly.
”Yeah…” he drawled out in his most nasal of tones, the type that normally preceded something he didn’t have a lot of confidence in. “This is what you might call a shot in the dark.”
Askit found further room in his seat to sink into. “We’re going to die this time, aren’t we?”
”Gloriously!” Xayn assured him. “It is just a pity that we won’t live to see the look on the Deceiver’s face as he is consumed by the unstoppable blast of an exploding micro-cosmos!”
”Probably surprise,” Askit grumbled. “Probably very surprised. I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
”Where’s the fucking optimism?” Adrian complained, going back to reinforcing his duct-tape with further duct-tape. “There’s a chance we won’t die at all.”
”This is true,” Xayn admitted. “I am sure that Adrian has a plan to deliver this device to the Deciver and use the planet and a warp-pocket to shield us from the blast.”
”I was just going to throw it out the airlock,” Adrian admitted. “Blow me up a whole fucking planet and then some.”
”I take back my optimism!” Xayn snapped. There was no conceivable way that could work, even if they were using a properly made bomb. This… incarnation of misguided optimism might not even explode, and would need the warp drive to either fail from damage, or for the gravity well to disintegrate the warp field. “We will definitely die. But before we go, I will finish my story! We skip forward to the time of Zharga Maradian, honoured descendant of Thardis…”
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Date Point: Sixty-Five Million Years Ago
Temple Mount, heart of the Great City
Zharga Maradian
Forty-three generations had passed since the arrival of the Divine One, and the world that was home to Zharga had little in common with that of Thardis the First. As the Divine One had bestowed marvel after marvel upon his chosen people, the V’Straki empire had naturally consolidated into a massive equatorial city, with only farming and hunting communities still outside the great hub of civilisation.
The city itself was built into a series of concentric rings based on the affluence and influence of their citizens — not necessarily the most efficient style of city construction, as far as Zharga could tell — with the centremost being the Temple Mount, home to the Imperial Pontiff and his Clerics, and built directly underneath the shining blue Citadel that was home to the Divine One.
Zharga did not frequently come to the Temple Mount, his role rarely took him further in than the middle-most ring, a far cry from the home of his distant ancestor, but as a member of an Honoured Lineage he had the right to travel here. Today was, after all, a day worthy of great celebration, as evident from the murals and decorations that hung everywhere there was room around the Holy Plaza.
The Imperial Pontiff stepped into the speaking circle at the heart of the plaza, a space where he could speak and be heard clearly by all members of the crowd. “Welcome, honoured guests,” the Pontiff began, puffing up with his sense of importance of both occasion and his own person. “Today we are truly blessed by the Divine One. The latest of his many gifts, and the first that will allow one brave individual to make the first journey to the stars themselves!
He said it grandly, but there was nothing surprising in it. The Divine One had made no secret about the existence of an enemy, the ‘Emerald Overlord’, nor of the existence of alien life and other worlds. It was long known that the Divine One intended for the V’Straki to join him in his war against His enemy, and this was merely the latest, albeit very impressive, step towards making that a reality.
That was the Divine One’s plan, but it was not Zharga’s; he was what they called a heretic, an unbeliever in the divinity of the Divine One. Like others in his secretive sect, he did not believe that the Divine One was anything more than some alien masquerading as a deity. Was it not evident from their rapidly accelerating understanding of scientific principles and technology? Even a fool should see that if what the Divine One said about alien life was true, then the simplest explanation for the Divine One was that he was one of them.
And that meant that the V’Straki were being played for fools, played to fight another creature’s war while it sat and watched from safety. The Heretics had reasoned out the implications of this, and of the inevitable results should this be allowed to proceed, and they had determined that the time to strike was now.
The servants had already begun to distribute the drink for the toast, a fizzy fruity beverage served in paper cups; Kuhl-Ad, the favoured drink of the Divine One.
The Pontiff raised his own cup. “I hope you’ll join me now for a small drink to mark this historic moment! In a few short (hours) I will be that brave soul making the first journey! I will even be meeting with the Divine One aboard his Holy Citadel!”
Zharga did not drink; the fruity beverage was frequently laced with euphoric drugs to help soothe the populace, and he couldn’t afford to be under the influence right now. Not when he had a ship to steal. He slowly shifted towards the back of the crowd, and proceeded towards the flight station where the ship was being stored.
It was easy. The Heresy was more widespread and deeply entrenched than the clergy thought, with many intellectuals being members. They were the people in control of the base, in control of the project, the people with the power to let Zharga just walk right into the launch area and stow himself away on the small, box-like ship.
Both the Pontiff and the Divine One were going to be in for a very big surprise.
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Date Point: 3Y 9M 2D AV
Aboard Spot, Vicinity of Hravin IV
Adrian Saunders
Spot began to shudder as it slammed into the atmosphere, and everyone took a brief moment to put on their vacuum suits. Adrian was confident in his welding, but he wasn’t going to take any chances over something like this, and it was a little easier to turn down the volume of Xayn’s droning story.
”I hope we’re not going to burn to a cinder doing this!” Askit said, holding tight to his chair. “But if we do, I hope it’s before he can finish his story.”
”It is pertinent!” Xayn insisted, evidently unaware that he was espousing some weirdly twisted, vaguely Christian allegory.
”Quick question, mate,” Adrian said, deciding he’d had enough of listening to a sermon. “Does Zharga kill the Divine One and steal the ship?”
”That is in the end of the story!” Xayn growled. “There is so much more to tell! For instance the part where the computer systems are suborned by a powerful computer disease!”
”You’re fucking joking? You’ve basically just described the plot of fucking Independence Day…” Adrian accused, and stared at Xayn without knowing what to do with that kind of information. Christian allegories were one thing, but turning a Will Smith film into a religious story starring dinosaurs was quite another. “You know, if you weren’t… you, I’d say you were pulling my fucking leg!”
”‘Independence Day’,” Xayn repeated, nodding in approval. “Yes, I suppose it could be considered that. The day we threw off the Deceiver and established our independence!”
As usual, Askit returned the conversation to the important parts. “But this ‘Zharga’… he did kill your Deceiver, so… who’s chasing us?”
Xayn hesitated in his answer, and took on a thoughtful expression. “A good point… perhaps the Emerald Overlord?”
”Oh good, so not your false ‘God’, just the enemy he was completely unable to fight on his own,” Askit snapped back. “And we’re just going to fight him with this… this!”
He pointed an accusatory finger at the jury-rigged cosmic bomb.
”There’s more to the plan than just that,” Adrian told him, patting the cosmic bomb gently. “Trix, how are we looking on that warp bubble?”
”Done. And we’re coming to maximum depth,” Trix replied promptly. “I should also mention that I’m detecting the enemy warp field above us. I can’t generate a gravity spike to stop it, but I should be able to slip us into a warp field for protection. Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”
”Right,” Adrian said, standing and drawing himself up to his full height. “Get ready to open a communications link, and we’ll see if they want to talk. But first there’s a few things I’m going to need you all to do.”
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Orbital insertion vector near uninteresting Gas Giant, Hravin System
Tjheth, Irzht Clansman of the Eye
“Computer! Why isn’t it working?” Tjheth demanded, his impatience growing. He was close, so close, to ridding the universe of Adrian Saunders and his troubling knowledge, but even now the human was thwarting him. It was impossible for a ship the size of his to enter the maelstrom without suffering significant damage, and the disintegration field could not extend very far into the gravity well. They could not, however, hide forever, and he had reasoned that he could simply disintegrate the outer atmosphere until it was all gone.
”The atmospheric molecules cannot escape the gravity well once they become unbound,” the computer explained. “I predict that this will never work.”
Tjheth huffed, agitated by the total failure of his plan. “Suggestions?”
”It is a small vessel,” the computer replied. “It can only remain in that place for a limited time before running out of provisions. We can remain cloaked and prevent them from escaping, thus defeating them through attrition.”
Tjheth didn’t think it would go so easily; this Adrian Saunders had already proved himself to be more trouble than some entire species, and this level of activity would not go unnoticed by the owners of the research station. “That will take some time. Too much time.”
”There is an incoming contact,” the computer reported. “From the target vessel.”
”Surrendering no doubt,” Tjheth said, returning to his seat. “There’s no way we can let him survive, but this will all go much faster if I can trick him out of that planet. Besides, I’m interested to see this ‘Human Disaster’ for myself.”
”We do have imagery that will sate your curiosity,” the computer reminded him. “I could prevent the human from corrupting you by handling this in your stead.”
”I doubt I will be corrupted by this creature,” Tjheth replied, suppressing his excitement at finally being able to interact with anybody or anything beyond the computer, even if he was going to have to end the conversation prematurely. “It’s hideous, all pale and soft like an egg. Put it through and translate.”
Three faces appeared on screen, each housed within the helmet of a vacuum-suit. There was the large-eyed underdeveloped grey face of the Corti who served as Adrian Saunders’s right hand. There was some kind of lizard-creature that the computer was unable to produce data on — somehow Adrian Saunders had discovered an hitherto unknown species?! — and finally there was Adrian Saunders himself, holding an assemblage of technology wrapped up in grey plastic like it was supposed to be important.
”Excellent, another procreating bird-lizard-thing,” Adrian Saunders greeted him. “It was good of you to answer the procreation communication link.”
”What in the name of the God Emperor is he talking about?!” Tjheth demanded of the computer. “Are you interpreting this correctly?”
”Interpretation is within an acceptable five percent margin of error,” the computer replied. “He appears to be fond of colloquialisms.”
”Doesn’t he know those don’t translate well?!” Tjheth asked.
”Upon historical analysis, it would appear that he doesn’t care,” the computer replied. “I will continue translating.”
”This is normally the part where the villain gives his procreation exposition,” Adrian Saunders continued, “shortly followed by some sort of altercation that ends with me beating the fecal matter out of you.”
Tjheth blinked. “Is that… some sort of threat?”
The computer beeped. “Analysis indicates a forty-percent likelihood that it was a threat. Fifty-percent likelihood that it was a statement of fact. Ten-percent likelihood that it was both.”
”What do you procreating think?” Adrian Saunders snapped.
”He talks about procreating a lot…” Tjheth noted, addressing the computer. “Does he want to mate with me? That’s disgusting.”
Adrian Saunders glared at him.
”Are you translating that?!” Tjheth asked the computer.
”You ordered me to translate,” the computer replied. “Would you like me to translate only what my detailed personality analysis of you indicates you would want me to translate?”
Tjheth hesitated, thinking about that for a moment, then nodded sharply. “Yes.”
”This,” Adrian Saunders said, hefting the device, “is the very bad end to a very bad day. Care to guess what it is?”
”Visual analysis indicates technology consistent with a Creation Engine,” the computer supplied helpfully. “Haphazard construction, more likely to explode spectacularly than produce useful power. Most likely use: bomb.”
”It’s some kind of haphazardly constructed super-bomb,” Tjheth quickly paraphrased, wanting it to display his raw intellect early on so that the human would know he was no match. His words caught up with him a moment later. “Wait…”
”I’m about to flip the procreating switch, and chuck it out the procreating airlock, so that it blows up the whole procreating planet and the both of us with it,” Adrian Saunders continued, the computer interpreting his bared teeth to have a fifty-percent split between joy and pure malice. “What do you think of that?”
”Why is he telling the enemy our plan?” the Corti mumbled, inaudible for Tjheth but loud enough for the computer to hear and interpret. “Also, this is an awful plan.”
”Computer, what are our options?” Tjheth asked, starting to feel frantic. “What will even happen if he does that?”
”Outcome is unknown, high chance of extreme destruction in local space. It does not look like the human is bluffing, and we are unable to approach to prevent detonation, we have no option but to withdraw,” the computer replied. “This has, however, confirmed that the human known as Adrian Saunders is capable of constructing such devices.”
”You’re recommending we retreat?” Tjheth asked, incredulous. “And let him free into the galaxy with that… device?”
Tjheth looked back up at the viewscreen and noticed that both the device and the lizardman were absent. “Where… where did it go?”
”Airlock,” Adrian Saunders replied simply, his lip curled ever so slightly and one eyebrow half-raised. “I wonder what will happen next.”
The screen went dark: it appeared that Adrian Saunders had disconnected.
The computer beeped again. “Scans indicate the target vessel is rising very rapidly from the planet, it is engaging gravity spikes and our disintegration field is down. I have detected a small warp field inside the planet, it appears that he is attempting to use a star-ship drive to produce the required spatial envelope.”
”That won’t work,” Tjheth replied. “The field will break apart and distribute sporadic bursts of energy all over the star system. We’ll be safe, and he’ll be dead.”
”Incorrect,” the computer contradicted. “The gravity well will degrade the field externally. Alternatively the device itself will malfunction and the drive will perform a safe shutdown.”
Tjheth realised he’d at some point gotten to his feet, and began to pace. “Get us out of here!”
”I have already predicted this response and have undertaken orbital exit vectors,” the computer replied. “Target vessel is continuing to lay down gravity spikes and is emerging from the atmosphere beyond the horizon. I have attempted to employ probes as missiles, but the target vessel is outpacing them.”
The computer helpfully illustrated this on the viewscreen with a set of colourful, yet informative, shapes. Tjheth stopped pacing for long enough to study it. “How long before the explosion?”
”Unknown,” said the computer. “Too many variables. There is a high risk that this ship will not survive, please proceed to the nearest escape pod.”
Tjheth looked at the various coloured shapes once more, nodded numbly, and proceeded to do as he was told. This was for the best, the scout ship would be unlikely to survive but even if it did it would not be as quick to leave the location as an escape pod. He followed the flashing lights to the closest one, a smooth, white capsule intended to hold one individual in stasis.
”I will employ ship kinetics to rapidly accelerate the pod once stasis has engaged,” the computer informed him as he stepped inside. “This vessel will rejoin you once escape and any repairs are complete. May the God Emperor watch over you.”
”God Emperor watch over you, computer,” Tjheth replied, and then the escape pod systems engaged.
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