Adrian Saunders
There had probably been no need to worry Laphor like that, but Adrian was a little too preoccupied to make considerations like that. He wasn’t sure whether he was exaggerating the A.I.’s abilities, but he desperately wanted to avoid underestimating such a dangerous thing. That thing had suggested he was some kind of deity, and that just pointed to it being crazy no matter what kind of theories Artiz came up with. Maybe the bomb *had* created a whole new universe, or maybe it just allowed them to connect for a while. Neither case seemed to qualify him for godlike status when it all came down to slapping together some technology and hoping for the best.
“Aladyn!” he called out as he set foot on the flight deck. “How many more loads?”
The Agwaren hunter turned away from the villagers he was chatting with and gave a quick salute. Both he and Dalon had gradually adopted the demeanour of soldiers, and had even gone to the extent of having uniforms made. Adrian had to admit that they were a lot more imposing after a bit of decent tailoring. “Shiplord,” he said, and closed the distance. “We were just about to make another trip. I was told you had the schedule.”
“I have it,” Adrian replied, “I’m asking anyway.”
Aladyn nodded. “I believe we will complete the evacuation by the end of the day. The new scanners you designed have made it considerably easier to discover the parasites. The last community we visited was completely infected.”
“That report made for some heavy reading,” Adrian replied. The bugs had definitely increased in activity as soon as the evacuation had commenced, becoming more desperate and aggressive in their efforts. It was fortunate that the village in question had been a mere offshoot of another, and that its destruction did not seriously affect their plans. “Hopefully the next one is a lot cleaner.”
He didn’t hope for them to be completely clear of the bugs, since that had never been the case. He did not enjoy executing the hosts, however, and even showing the evidence to their fellow villagers wasn’t quite enough to settle everybody’s nerves. It was fortunate that they believed him at all.
“One can hope,” Aladyn agreed, though he still looked troubled. “In regards to the second concern, there are still no sightings of the other enemy. Do you think it might have given up?”
“Doubtful,” Adrian told him, though his tone conveyed far less optimism. “That thing followed me across the galaxy and through an inexplicable hell. Something like this isn’t going to stop it.”
Aladyn nodded. He’d been given some basic lessons on what awaited his people, and had some appreciation for the distances involved. Trix had been responsible for teaching them whatever she could put together, which made it a somewhat laborious process. It was simply unfortunate that the V’Straki imprinting technology was still laced with subliminal programming. “I’ll continue keeping an eye out.”
Adrian turned to find Artiz waiting for him. The V’Straki scientist rarely mingled with the Agwaren guests since they found his appearance upsetting after all the needless slaughter. Things were getting better, but it had only been a few days and such wounds did not heal quickly. For him to be down here did not bode well. “Artiz?”
The scientist bowed his head slightly. “Shiplord, I wanted to let you know that the device is complete.”
“Great work,” said Adrian approvingly, and gestured for the scientist to follow him. There was no way Artiz would have come here just to convey that information, but it was best to seem a little unobservant. Adrian needed the scientist to keep feeling secure, and for the time being that meant he needed to play down his own intelligence.
“There is one other thing,” Artiz said, once they were away from the Agwarens.
“Oh?” Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow as though this was somehow unexpected.
“I wanted to know what your next destination is,” Artiz told him. “This ship is extremely crowded at the moment, and life support is struggling. What happens to the primitives? What do you intend to do with this ship? How do you plan to help revive my people?”
“That’s a lot more than one more thing,” said Adrian with a smile, and stepped into the briefing room. “Trix, can you bring up our notes for resettlement?”
Trix was fast as usual. “On screen now.”
“This was our original plan,” Adrian said, indicating the location of Xayn’s colony world on the starmap. “We were going to take you all to that location, where a V’Straki colony hub can help handle things. We noticed the life support issue, though, so now our options are more limited.”
Artiz stared at the map. “How limited?”
Trix overlaid the map with the systems she and Adrian had earmarked. “These systems are technically habitable, according to our Dominion records.”
Artiz turned to the nearest camera. “What do you mean by ‘technically’?”
Trix explained the Dominion’s system for rating worlds in general terms, detailing only the parts about which factors contributed towards being habitable. “The Dominion does not list more extreme worlds on this register,” she finished. “That means Earth, Agwar, and any other deathworld isn’t going to show up. In this case it isn’t a matter of the habitable worlds being problematic, the issue is with introducing these particular colonists.”
“My people colonised a world the Dominion considers to be very habitable,” Adrian added. “Now it’s dying. You, me, and the Agwarens can only colonise deathworlds because they are the only things capable of withstanding us.”
“I would argue that the state of this planet proves that theory incorrect,” Artiz replied, though it was clear he understood.
Adrian frowned. “That’s why we’re trying to cure them of the infection. Nowhere is safe as long as any of us can infect an ecosystem. This planet is a perfect example of what happens when that shit gets to run free.”
“And your own condition?” Artiz asked.
Adrian patted his side where the replacement implant was located. “Will be under control at a later date.”
“I see,” said Artiz with slight disapproval. “Are any of these so-called deathworlds within range?”
“The Dominion records we have were extracted from an escape pod,” Adrian replied. “It didn’t have that kind of information. That means we’re relying on the Dastasji’s records, and it’s given us three possibilities.”
Artiz was clearly surprised. “Those will be extremely out of date! Basing a plan on them is too reckless!”
“That’s why we’re having this conversation,” answered Adrian. “I need your experience and educated guesswork. We’re looking for somewhere that should be habitable, but with no chance of developing intelligent life.”
He gave Artiz the planetary profiles and quietly waited while the scientist studied them. “These were all reject by the empire as colony candidates,” he said. “The good news is that I was part of the assessment team.”
“So you know them?” Adrian asked in surprise.
“I studied facets of them,” Artiz replied. “This one had wildlife that was annoyingly clever, so I would not be surprised if they had developed true intelligence. The weather on these other two tended to produce incredibly destructive storms, making them unsuitable. This third one even has a hyper-charged ionosphere, and would completely disrupt my attempts to communicate with surface teams.”
Adrian inspected the latter two. “So either of these would be fine?”
“That was not my assessment, Shiplord,” Artiz said, “but they would meet your purpose.”
Adrian nodded. They had actually been the ones he was hoping for, since it would still be possible to visit the second in the event the first was no good. “Good. We’ll deploy the Agwarens to start building a colony. Then we’ll go grab the V’Straki samples from the hub and move them over.”
Artiz was taken aback. “You intend for us to *share* the planet with these… primitives?”
“My intent,” said Adrian, “is for them to help raise your first new generation. From there we’ll see what options we have. Right now none of us are strong enough to survive against the enemy alone, even with the help of this starship.”
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Fallen City, Gamlis
Darragh
The other Corti had been forcibly removed from her suit and imprisoned in a room with a large crate shoved in front of the door. Askit had requested a more permanent solution, but neither Darragh nor Keffa had felt very comfortable in executing an entirely unarmed and defeated Corti. Darragh honestly thought that their own Corti should just be happy with getting his hands on what looked like a super-cool suit of power armour.
“You understand that if she manages to get off this awful planet she’s probably going to hunt us down?” Askit asked after being refused for the third time. “I may be weak and squishy, but that just means that I’m most likely to be the first to die. She’ll pick the two of you off while you’re busy grieving for me.”
Keffa assured him that none of that was likely to happen as he’d described, and he’d gone off to sort out the starship difficulties in a huff. It looked as though Askit had been entirely correct in there being a hidden entrance to a shipyard, and as Keffa had suggested its entrance had lain directly beneath a sign advertising some kind of orifice gel. All of them had agreed that looking at it too long made them feel somewhat uncomfortable.
“What do you think we’ll end up with this time?” Darragh asked conversationally. He and Keffa were passing time near the locked room, from where the tirade of unintelligible shouts had temporarily ceased. “Some kind of yacht, maybe?”
She shook her head. “Not from this sort of place. Askit said this was a place for smugglers, so we’re looking at something with hidden cargo spaces, good speed, and decent weapons.”
“At least it’ll be better than your old ship, then,” he replied, thinking back to the vessel he’d first joined her aboard. It had been fit for purpose, but that was about the only nice thing to say on it.
He received a glare in reply. “You should know better than to go insulting a girl’s first ship. I had to work hard to get her, you know.”
Darragh scratched his head. “I’m pretty sure you told me you stole it.”
“And stealing it wasn’t easy,” Keffa replied, quickly finding new footing on the moral high ground. They let the conversation trail off before Keffa started with a fresh question. “It looks like we’ll be getting out of here soon. What do you think will happen?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t admit to any of this shit,” Darragh replied. “Humans have a bad enough reputation without adding the destruction of an entire planet to the list.”
“But it wasn’t us!” Keffa protested. “Humans didn’t have anything to do with it for a change, it was all Askit!”
Darragh rolled his eyes; not including Askit, he’d always thought that Keffa was the most cynical of them, but sometimes she seemed hopelessly naïve. “Yes, I’m sure the news networks will draw absolutely no links from a known companion of the Human Disaster to the rest of humanity. We should absolutely avoid anyone else finding out the truth. Otherwise all of humanity will be persecuted worse than they already are. Last time they locked us all in some kind of energy prison, what do you think they’ll do if they start seeing us as a real threat?”
Keffa was contemplative.
“They’ll kill us,” he told her. “They’ll wipe us out, because that’d be the smart thing to do. The only positive is that all evidence we were here has been destroyed.”
“Right,” she said unhappily. “I guess this is one secret we need to take to our graves. You should tell Askit as well.”
Darragh was pretty sure that the Corti would have figured this out already, and that he wasn’t taking much pleasure in his little achievement. The death of Gamlis had been far more destructive than he had been intending. That aside, it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. “No problem.”
A thought struck him as he glanced towards the locked door. Their prisoner had been quiet for few minutes during the latter part of their conversation, but had been relentless up to that point. It was too well timed to be coincidence. Keffa followed his hardening gaze and clearly came to the same conclusion he had.
“The armour was working,” she said softly.
Darragh nodded. If the armour had been working, then it followed that the rest of the Corti’s gear would also be working, including any implants. It was a certainty that she would have a translator implant, which meant she’d been able to listen to and understand their entire exposition.
“Feck,” was how he replied. They’d just had an argument with Askit about keeping the Corti prisoner alive, and now they were put in this position through their own actions. Having told Keffa the consequences of anyone learning the truth, he knew that there was absolutely no question about what had to be done. Darragh had never been cold-blooded, however, and every fibre of his being was resisting the idea. He thought of himself as a good person.
They both knew that there was no way around what they needed to do. They had unthinkingly caused the problem, and it was on them to fix it.
“The worst part of this is that Askit is going to think he was right,” Keffa muttered.
“Also the murdering,” said Darragh, gently reminding her that they were dealing with a person, albeit not a human one. “That’s the other worst part.”
Keffa rolled her eyes. “Give me the gun, and I’ll do it.”
Darragh found himself tempted by the offer, but he couldn’t keep relying on others to do the dirty work for him. His hands weren’t clean by any measure, and he had taken lives, yet only in self-defence. This would be the first time he’d stepped over that line. “No. I will.”
She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Shoving aside the crate, she only cleared the way for him to step into the room. He took a breath, readied the gun, and opened the door.
There was nobody inside.
“What…?” he mumbled, looking around. His gaze quickly fell on a newly opened box of components, and the small vent that had been tightly sealed when they had first selected the room. Too small for a human, but a determined Corti might have been able to squeeze her way in. “Shit!”
Drawn by his delay and surprise, Keffa looked past him into the room. “Well… *that’s* super bad.”
“Any idea where that vent goes?” Darragh asked, turning to face her. “We can’t let her get away!”
She shrugged. “It’s a vent, so… everywhere. The question is where she’d go.”
There seemed to be two options: escape or revenge. If she went after Askit she’d have a chance at the latter while also reclaiming her power suit, and that would be bad news for the humans. “Go protect Askit,” Darragh instructed. “I’ll go do a sweep of the outside and see if I can find her.”
Quickly agreeing on their plan, they parted ways. Neither of them thought to actually check the vent, nor to close the door to the room.
++++
++++
Auna
The pair of humans had taken their sweet time deciding on how to chase her down, but they had been as stupid as they had looked. Auna had quickly determined that there was no way she was going to be able to slip through the vents in an escape attempt, but the effort of opening the thing need not be wasted; there was value in misdirection. They were physically incredible, but clearly the ability gap did not extend to cognition, or they would have taken a better look at the boxes in the room.
It had been greatly uncomfortable, and Auna couldn’t wait to be free, but she waited in the box until she was certain the humans were gone. That way they wouldn’t hear her grunts of exertion as she struggled free.
They had correctly determined that her most likely move was to target that despicable Black Banner as a matter of vengeance and of reclaiming her property. Given the conditions outside she wasn’t likely to survive any length of time unless she had that kind of protection, especially in light of her lack of knowledge. Having only been released from stasis once the pod and everything else had failed, she’d emerged onto a dying world as the sole survivor. Details on the current date, and why she wasn’t currently deployed to the front lines, were complete unknowns. The humans had suggested that their race was poorly considered—which didn’t surprise her—and that the Black Banner was somehow responsible for what happened on this world. Testament though it might be to the true capabilities of the Corti race, she could see why nobody would want to take that kind of credit.
“It sounds like they’re trying to escape as well,” she said to herself as she worked through the situation. “Makes sense since there’s nothing worth staying here for, but doesn’t explain why they were caught in their own misdeed.”
As far as she was concerned, anyone capable of levelling civilisation across an entire city—and possibly planet—wasn’t someone who’d easily fall victim to their own work. If the Black Banner had been intending this outcome there was no way he would have been caught up in it as well, which meant that this situation was outside his expectations. He had also argued to have Auna herself killed as soon as she’d been forced from her suit, which meant that he was not in command of the two humans. It also meant that the humans underestimated her while the Black Banner did not. This Askit, whatever his history, was clearly as practical as he was capable, although next time Auna wouldn’t let him talk so much.
She snuck out into the open area, quickly surveying the space before pressing onwards. This place was a warehouse hiding a secret shipyard below ground, out of which she had spent two days enacting her escape. She had fortunately had both food and water or she would have most certainly starved in the darkness without ever getting free. Reaching the surface had been a considerable disappointment, and there was only death and destruction no matter how far she roamed. The Black Banner and his humans were the first living creatures she’d seen since coming out of stasis, and her desire for answers and to avoid being alone on a dead world had prevented her from simply killing them as she should have.
Taking later conversations into account, that may have been a stroke of luck, since it seemed like they had some sort of plan to get a ship working again. That there was no intention to take her with them did not matter, since she had no plans to give them the choice. Much as it chagrined her, revenge and getting her suit back were secondary to finding a way off the planet.
Keeping an ear out for any unknown movements, Auna traced her way back along the fully dark corridors on her way back to the shipyard hidden beneath the warehouse, and discovered the shorter human earnestly conversing with the Black Banner. Bathed in light spilling from the ship, it seemed that they hadn’t been filled with unwarranted confidence after all. Keenly aware of her need for information, she clung to the shadows and listened.
“It staggers me that two humans were incapable of keeping a Corti captive in a locked room,” the Black Banner said, responding to the human’s explanation of the situation. He was wearing her suit and stood in the open airlock to one of the few available vessels. Having had his pick of three he had selected the smaller one with a vivid paint job that suggested the whole thing was on fire. For Auna the appearance put a cloud over any other attributes it might possess, and it was hard to avoid judging the Black Banner for his choice.
“Clearly she was more dangerous than we thought,” the human said defensively.
“Which is exactly what I told you,” the Black Banner recalled. “You and Darragh were very insistent that she be kept alive. Did you think she will be grateful?”
“If that was an issue, then maybe you could have been nicer to her in the first place,” the human replied. “She didn’t have to be our enemy.”
“Her implants are still active, Keffa,” said the Black Banner as though this was somehow important. “Even if we had become allies there would be no hope of trusting her.”
Auna wanted them to talk more about whatever they’d been referring to, but it seemed like they shared enough of a mutual understanding that such explanations were unnecessary. The human had readily agreed that this was a risk, and this meant that something very serious must have transpired. It wasn’t until this moment that Auna realised that, rather than speaking in Cortan, the Black Banner had switched to whatever language the humans were using. Between that and the conversation she could only infer one thing: none of them had working implants.
This wasn’t something she’d expected to hear, but she would definitely need to follow up on it once she was free of this doomed world.
“Do you think it will be okay if we don’t find her?” the human asked. “I mean… without that suit she’ll probably end up dying here. The weather is getting colder, and the air is still really bad.”
“That Corti was recruited into the Shadow Wing,” the Black Banner replied. “Not to mention being a Silver Banner. Whatever she lacks in physiology she will make up for in both intelligence and tenacity. If there is a possibility of her surviving then I have no doubt that she will survive.”
Auna could have done without words of praise coming from someone like this Corti, but they served to confirm that he was not underestimating her. She needed to remind herself that she really knew nothing about this Corti apart from his ability to break her suit. Whoever he was before losing his banner was far from obvious, and it didn’t seem like the sort of thing he was going to suddenly announce in casual conversation.
Whatever was said next was in such low tones that Auna’s translator had no hope of making it out, but it resulted in the human departing. The Black Banner waited until he was alone before moving.
“You may as well come out,” he said, not speaking in any particular direction. “I know you’re watching.”
Auna could think of three possibilities surrounding that demand. The first was that it was a simple bluff. The second was a result of somehow detecting her with the sensors built into the suit. The third was that her presence was discovered in some other way. Either way, she predicted that the result of revealing herself to this creature would not be pleasant. It was better to force him into chasing after her than to simply present herself. After several long moments he frowned and returned to the inside of the ship.
Auna exhaled in relief; it looked like it’d been a bluff after all. Now would be the moment when his guard would be down, and was possibly the last time he’d be completely undefended by those humans. Taking care to avoid disturbing anything, she crept closer to the ship.
A light tapping noise was audible from within the vessel; the sound of the Black Banner studiously interfacing with his data tab. Distracted as he was, it gave Auna the opportunity to—
“That would be stupid.”
She recoiled, her eyes darting around for the speaker without finding any. The voice had been flat, systematic, and had almost sounded like it’d been whispered directly into her ear.
“Translator units are deeply embedded in a Corti’s brain,” the voice mused in its same flat tone. “And not once have you thought about how else they might be used.”
Auna understood: it was the Black Banner, and he had control of her translator. It would not be surprising if the rest of her implants were also under his control. “You really did know I was here.”
“I’ve been tracking you since the humans decided you were better kept as a prisoner,” came the flat reply. “I could have killed you at any time I pleased. I still can.”
“I’m alive because you have a use for me,” she concluded. Black Banners were monsters the Directorate had decided were better wiped from society’s consciousness. They would not keep her alive unless they had a reason.
“Possibly several,” said the Black Banner, emerging from the vessel. “That depends on you.”
“I don’t see how I have anything to offer *you*,” she replied coldly. “I won’t betray the Directorate, and I…”
Auna trailed off. Somehow she felt as though she were reading from a script. She was a decorated officer in the Shadow Wings, and a loyal servant of the Directorate. That had been such a natural fact that she had never even questioned it, let alone given it serious consideration. Yet now of all moments…
“What… have you done to me?”
The question was genuine, and it was filled with a growing number of fears. A Corti as intelligent as herself could think quickly, make logical connections and inspired leaps, but it now felt as though it was blooming in a thousand different directions. A new truth had emerged within her, and it was shattering every decision and conviction that had been founded upon it.
The Black Banner waited, observing her as she leant heavily against the side of the ship. He showed no emotion other than slight curiosity.
Auna thought that this was something she should have expected from a Black Banner, then immediately realised that the idea felt as rehearsed as so many others. Her supposed loyalty to the Directorate was based upon an obedience she had never questioned. As far as Auna’s personal experience took her, she had never met anyone who’d done otherwise. Even Corti criminals didn’t fully act against the Directorate’s agenda.
Nobody raised questions about what the Corti were doing in the war. The unfortunate fates of their lost soldiers were glossed over and forgotten, even by those who’d known them. Dozens of faces flashed through her mind, vivid as the day she’d met them, yet Auna hadn’t even considered them in… how long?
She held her head and moaned with a pain that struck to her very core. “Am I… are *we* slaves?”
“No,” replied the Black Banner, his voice cold. “Not anymore.”
++++
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Dastasji, High Orbit of Agwar
Trycrur
There was a cavalier attitude aboard the Dastasji. Too many of the crew held the opinion that they had already won, and that the destruction of Agwar was simply the final event to be witnessed. They thought that Adrian was being overly cautious with his constant requests for surface scans, and while they always humoured him they also came to suspect him of being paranoid. After all, the surviving natives had been successfully rescued with time to spare, and soon they would be on their way. For them it was that simple.
Trix had too much experience to be so confident. It was possible that Adrian was giving the Artificial Intelligence more credit than was due, but he wasn’t wrong about what it had managed to do to them in the past. They’d come within a breath of being wiped from existence, and if the Human Disaster considered it dangerous then Trix was bound to stay wary. In all their time together, this was the first time she’d seen him so nervous.
“The Three Stooges are on their final approach,” she dutifully reported. There were four asteroids in total, so it was a mystery as to why Adrian had named them that, but it was no more confusing than anything else he’d done. Trix assumed it was just one of those human things, and avoided spending too much time thinking about it. “Velocity at approximately zero-point-one percent of lightspeed.”
“Those things are really moving!” murmured Clor, and shared a glance with Laphor. She was still his commanding officer, even aboard this ship, and he looked to her to ease his concerns. “The impact should be something to see.”
“Artiz, how are we looking for the impact times?” Adrian asked, looking to the V’Straki physicist.
“Moe will strike first, followed shortly by Larry and Curly,” Artiz explained, although he looked deeply pained by the designations. “There is a slightly longer delay on Shemp.”
“And are we seeing anything from the planet, Trix?” Adrian asked for the umpteenth time since the process had started. He was incredibly wound up, and was permanently positioned on the very edge of his chair.
“Nothing,” Trix replied as she had every other time. “It’s still completely dead down there.”
That was enough reassurance for Adrian to sit slightly further back in his chair, but there was no suggestion he’d relaxed in the slightest. “Keep an eye on it.”
“Shiplord,” Artiz intervened, “surely if something was going to happen we would have noticed it by now.”
Adrian glared at him. “Do you reckon?”
“I do,” Artiz confirmed. “I believe it is most likely that the artificial intelligence has failed to discern the threat. In mere moments we will be in the clear. You may relax.”
“I have read your logs,” Adrian replied coolly. “You were able to pick up traces of it every now and then, but not once could you pin down the location. Then it was just gone. Sound about right?”
Artiz confirmed that it was.
Trix understood what Adrian was getting at. He believed that the artificial intelligence was just hiding, and there was no telling what it might have accomplished in that time. Adrian was assuming the worst case scenario: that it was completely capable of killing every last one of them. It was why they had moved to high orbit long before the asteroids were actually due.
“Still nothing from the surface,” she reported. “I will now commence the countdown until Moe’s impact.”
Rather than calming Adrian, this announcement only further raised his tension. For this he even rose from his seat and took a step towards the main viewscreen. If nothing else they were all going to have a fantastic view of an incredible event. At the speed the rocks were moving it would not be possible to see them approach, only to witness the inevitable outcome.
“Moe to strike in five… four… three…”
Energy spikes flared up across the planet, spreading a blue glow across the outer atmosphere in the moment before impact. With the exception of stars it was more power than Trix had ever personally seen in one place.
“Something just—”
The asteroid named Moe erupted into a blinding flash of light as it slammed into that energy field, sending a massive wave of bright blue energy rippling across the field.
“What the fuck is that?!” Adrian demanded, as the first to recover from the shock.
“A planet-wide forcefield,” Trix reported.
“Well, that’s not good!” Adrian appraised. “What are—”