Northern Star

Here it is - chapter 9. I think it's been something like a year since I started this story and I'm only on chapter 9. I'm pathetic.

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Teleportation was a mysterious event. It was commonplace on Hielodar, and the fact that it shouldn't have been even remotely possible never bothered any of that world's citizens. Psychic-types and their companions routinely teleported about, never suffering any side effects and never truly wondering how it worked.

No one in all the universe really fully understood the process, but Hielodar's denizens were fairly backward in their comprehension, as the Pokemon that could do it were born knowing how and the distances traveled were, astronomically speaking, insignificant. There were those, though, who had plumbed its mysteries by applying it in ways the little creatures of that little planet could not have imagined. It had been discovered that teleportation was just another form of travel, and it was not instantaneous. No matter the distance traveled, there was always a delay between the departure and the arrival, and the delay was a direct factor of distance traveled.

One fine, sunshine-washed day some four thousand years ago, Earth mathematicians completed a computer whose purpose was to determine exactly what happened during teleportation. The machine gave a simple, succinct answer that caused the most catastrophic war humanity had ever known, and split the species in two forever.

The war was the natural escalation of the new question that the machine's answer had created. In the early days of teleportation, distances were limited to only a few light-years, and transit time was barely a few seconds - not long enough for the traveler to experience anything other than a silent, restful blackness. Certain intrepid humans had attempted long-range jumps to other parts of the galaxy, and the transit time in interstellar times was long enough to measure in human terms. For hours or days these explorers traveled at speeds that were not possible in real space, and they had discovered that it was possible to achieve actual consciousness during transit. Those who had experienced it could not begin to describe it, but they all came back deeply changed people, as though their entire perspective on reality had been subtly changed.

The machine was built to answer the question of what happened when this consciousness was reached, and its answer was simple: the traveler and the ship ceased to exist during transit. After a few moments of travel, some sort of force holding a person's personality to their physical form collapsed, and that person became an entity of pure identity, a something that existed through the cohesive power of its own ego and nothing more. There should have been nothing left for the person to lose as they did not exist, but the machine provided absolute mathematical proof that even when a person's physical form ceased to be, some part of it continued on elsewhere.

Humanity's greatest thinking engine had proven the existence of the soul.

This discovery came far too early, or far too late, depending on who was talking. The twilight of religion was upon humanity, and the days of superstition were fading fast before the light of reason. The discovery of the soul revived religion, and the nearly simultaneous discovery of the psychic human fueled what had been the dying ember of superstition. What had been at last reduced to civil, courteous disagreements reescalated into arguments, then anger, then hatred, and finally war. The confrontation that had been looming since the twenty-first century had finally come to pass: theists and atheists were finally at war.

The believers had most of the psychics, and they had the edge, despite their smaller numbers. If one could convince a psychic that their power was proof of God's favor, that psychic's power would actually increase - like most other mental faculties, it was a factor of confidence. The faithful would have squarely won, had not the atheists at last developed the most insidious weapon since the atom bomb.

Through the power of genetic engineering, they had successfully warped the gene for psychic potential to create what amounted to the perfect inverse of a psychic - the bearer of a power than was even less understood than psychic power, one that, to use teleological terms, was malevolence given form. They had created the Dark Gift, and long after the war was over they used it for vengeance, to retake in blood what had been taken from them, as they saw it, in progress.

Elphias the Chosen, First Scion of the Black Watch, pondered this turning point in his species' history as his ship raced toward the last reported location of probe H71. He was deep in his meditation cycle, having achieved full consciousness about five minutes into the jump. He was an old hand and his constant travel had instilled in him a strange approach to life and death, as it eventually did to all who spent enough time in hyperspace.

Is the Dark Gift the pinnacle of humanity, wondered he, or is it freedom from humanity? Thirty planets had there been, thirty planets full of weak, simple fools who sheltered the witches, who had given them quarter and even rights. It was disgusting. Elphias had cleansed them all and enslaved or murdered their entire populations. The smell of burning buildings, the red glow of cities consumed by flame, the screams of innocents being butchered by remorseless, rampaging lunatics... these things were forms of pleasure that humanity had refined into an art, and yet unlike the tyrant lords of eras past Elphias took no particular delight in his work. It simply needed to be done.

He felt a tug at the base of his spine and knew the cycle was almost complete. He began to return his focus to the coming task. A probe had detected psychic activity and in a few seconds, he would arrive at its location. He would know if there was another planet to be purged.

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Lunaril was the first to awaken. It was her bridge time; Sestus was in contact with the ground units, Bellatrix and Hera were scrying, and Asenath was asleep. She was manning the command deck of the Northern Star when she felt an odd tingling start in her extremities and work its way to her chest. She began to shake hard, and her heart started to race. She ordered the computer to run a complete systems diagnostic and switched on the Star's radar. She took her feet off the control yoke of the ship - the computer was flying it anyway - and stood to walk a few feet to where Sestus sat, carefully observing a three-dimensional map of the planet's surface.

"Did you feel that?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. "I'm trying to see if it has something to do with the drop team." A chime sounded and Lunaril ran back to the flight deck to press a blinking button.

"We have a problem," came Hera's voice, tight with apprehension.

In her quarters, Asenath's eyes snapped open.

"We're checking it out up here," Lunaril sounded off. Her eyes swept over the flight deck, but the computer could find no imminent danger, which only made her more uncomfortable. There was something wrong - something terribly wrong - but where a vision of a catastrophe should have been, there was blackness - not a shadow, but an actual oily blackness, with its own substance and weight and hostile intent. Lunaril gasped. It was closer now, coming closer at an incredible speed, and

it was upon them.

A burst of pure light blazed through the ship's windows, blinding Lunaril for a moment before fading as quickly as it had come. Where there had been stars there was now an object that could only be seen because of its blinking running lights. It was completely black, and at least the size of the Northern Star itself, according to the shrieking impact alarms and bright red screens.

Asenath, wide-eyed and gasping, had just reached the flight deck when the attack began.

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An azure beam arced over the New Moon as Emendi coaxed the shuttle as fast as it would go in the direction of this mysterious new ship. It had opened fire remarkably quickly after it had flashed into existence just a hundred miles from the Northern Star, and the beams coming out of the ship's prow were clearly gutting his beloved ship, as he could see from the large sections of metal which were being jaggedly ripped off by its weapons. The Star carried no weapons of its own - none save for the exceptionally deadly individuals who called it home.

Emendi activated the autopilot and positioned himself near the rear hatch, securing his helmet in place. The shuttle had no airlock of its own, which suited his insane purposes quite well. He tracked his flight beneath the ship and after identifying what he assumed was either a door or simply a weak point in its hull, he pointed the tail of New Moon toward it and wedged himself in the hatchway after grabbing a blinking device the size of a football and clipping it to his belt.

Three, two, one...

He opened the door and was blown out of the shuttle by the escaping air, and for a moment he was his own little planet. He soared like a skydiver through the black void toward his new enemy, never once considering what would happen if he missed. The sun rose around the shield cast by Hielodar, and for a moment he was brightly lit up. He was almost blinded by the sparkling of his own armor and he wondered briefly if anything else could ever be this exhilirating.

He tapped his jump jets to rotate and slow down, and with a crash he struck the outer hull of the ship. He positioned a thermal explosive on a depressed, door sized section of hull, and used the ridged side of the ship as handholds to get himself clear. There was a soundless flash, and a beautiful gout of flame shot out of the wound in the ship before a redundant bulkhead slid into place automatically to seal it. Emendi was already inside.

He had correctly guessed that he had broken into an airlock, and he activated his suit's titanic strength to rip the weaker inner door off its tracks. He stormed inside and was surprised to see how dark the interior was. The only light came from dim red track lights built into the floors, which seemed to be made of metal grates. The hallway was large, and grooves in the walls indicated doors. Emendi stormed in the direction of the ship's prow, where he assumed he would find the bridge.

A door to his right slid open, and he raised his weapon, but it seemed the door had opened automatically in response to someone walking by. Emendi would have ignored it, but the horrifying scene inside grabbed his attention, and he resolved to come back after he had stopped the attack on the Northern Star. He pressed forward until he almost reached the end of the hallway, when the door opened again of its own accord. Two figures stepped through.

They were identical, except that the one on the right may have been a bit bigger. They appeared to be humans wearing combat suits as he was, though theirs were a most curious design. The outer suits were dull grey and corded in such a way as to imitate the patterns of naked muscle. In effect they looked as though their skin had been flayed off, and they had been painted grey. Where their faces should have been there was a plate of black metal with a single, glowing red dot in the center. Emendi supposed that they were supposed to be intimidating, but it had been a long time since he had been intimidated by anything. He had already leveled his repeating coilgun at one by the time they had reached for their weapons.

The iron slugs ripped into the target's body but did not come out the other side, which surprised Emendi - their muscle-armor must have been terrifically strong. The target's partner responded with a hail of bullets which Emendi's energy shielding easily stopped, with flashes of light a meter in front of him a clear indicator of its presence. The second one threw down his gun and charged Emendi head-on, getting below his guard with incredible speed. Emendi dropped his coilgun and grabbed his foe's neck, squeezing hard. His attacker landed a pair of telling blows on Emendi's chest armor, causing a small crack to appear, before Emendi was finally rewarded with a wet crunch and a great gout of blood from his foe's throat.

He dropped the limp body, picked up his weapon, and continued forward. Red lights began to flash around him, and a harsh, guttral voice sounded over a loudspeaker in no language he could understand. He was familiar with all human languages spoken in the Gaian system, and-

The next door slid open, and now five of the strange fighters stepped through. Emendi primed another breaching charge and tossed it down the hallway, retreating swiftly. The one in the front of the pack stared at the charge for a moment before seizing it and running toward Emendi at full speed, the bomb held high over his head.

This had happened to Emendi before, though on a lower technological level. Emendi shot the charging man through the face and focused the full power of his shields to a 45-degree cone in front of him a heartbeat before the charge detonated. There was a blinding flash and a firm pressure on his chest, but he stood his ground. A moment later, the fire had cleared. The ship seemed to have drained this particular hallway of oxygen, a clever maneuver that probably saved the ship, and indeed Emendi’s life. Unfortunately it had also spared the four soldiers at the far end of the hall, and they charged him with surprising speed. Emendi’s shields were shattered by the bomb and the threat was now real.

Emendi reached forward and tore the faceplate from his first victim. This person had clearly undergone extensive surgery of some kind. His eyes were blank white and his skin was grey, with veins clearly standing out, though that might have been due to the lack of atmosphere. He was already bleeding heavily from a hole in his face that had presumably once been a nose and from neat holes on the sides that had probably been ears. Emendi euthanized him with a haymaker that obliterated the left side of his skull.

“These guys aren’t from around here,” Emendi said into his radio as he seized the next one by the head and slammed him against a wall. Reaching forward, he used his free hand to grab the third one’s wrist and flip him bodily.

“Less sightseeing! Emendi, you have to stop that laser battery!” Sestus cried in response. “Open your mind, I will show you where it is!” With that, Emendi’s vision was overtaken by an image of the ship. There was only a single battery, and it was on the floor above him. The momentary mind link had taken his focus, though, and the last enemy rushed up and slammed Emendi against the wall. The other two were already getting back on their feet.

“I do apologize for my timing. One moment,” Sestus said, and Emendi felt the tingle of psychic energy rush through the hall. All of his assailants suddenly fell to the floor twitching, but after only a moment got back up again.

“Sestus, what do you call that?”

“Something’s wrong. That should have fried them all for good.” Emendi picked his gun back up and used the momentary distraction to terminate all three of them.

There was a crackle over his radio. “Shut down those guns!” Sestus shouted.

Emendi felt the thumping of feet in the floor, and calmly reloaded.

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The little boat had chugged along for two hours now, and the sun was directly overhead. The air had remained cool, and Marcus had completely removed his helmet and head sock. Mewtwo had procured a cooler full of local beer from beneath one of the benches, and the two were fishing and drinking while they waited for the boat to cross the water, Mewtwo patiently answering Marcus’ barrage of questions in the meantime.

“So these Pokemon battles are just displays of violence?”

“For the most part. The line becomes blurred sometimes.”

“Like when?”

“Some enthusiasts take it too seriously. They don’t understand that it’s all a game, and train their pets too hard. Then the pets start to become confused, and then battles can become dangerous situations.”

“Why don’t the pets just speak up?”

“They can’t, for the most part. Psychic-types can do it on occasion, but most people find direct mental contact uncomfortable, so they tend to refrain. Psychic-types are mistrusted to begin with.”

“That’s what you are? A psychic?”

“By definition. I am the only one of my kind, though.”

“You’re like the Emperor then.”

A shadow crossed Mewtwo’s face. “Yes, like your Emperor. Listen, there’s something you need to know about him. As I told you, I’ve kept in touch with Eversor, and he explained his planet to me, just as I’m explaining mine to you right now. We have discussed this at length. There is something seriously wrong with your world.”

“Nonsense. Gaia has the Emperor.”

“Hielodar has him too.”

“Of course. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“That’s not what I mean.” They were uncomfortably silent for a moment, before Marcus spoke.

“Then what do you mean?”

“Perhaps it will be better if I show you.”


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“We are in deep trouble, Fearless Leader.”

“Emendi can handle it.”

“I know the Star will be fine if Emendi is taking care of it. I was referring to our rookie.”

“I contacted the Solon already. Mewtwo picked him up.”

“Ah, how is our favorite giant kitty-cat?”

“His welfare is another issue for another time. Ah. I’ve been waiting three hundred years for these people to start using computers.” Eversor and Haegr huddled in the bushes outside Saffron Metro’s 4th Precinct headquarters. After Sestus’ panicked report that the Northern Star was under attack by people immune to psychic powers, Eversor contacted Vincent and asked if he had received any reports that sounded like they might have involved the Dark Gift. As it happened, Paladin Birch had received data from one Dr. Cypress three days previously describing a piece of hardware that, when worn on the head, inhibited psychic powers within a close radius. Eversor found that a detective called Rojas had opened a case file referring to the object and had gone searching for it in Cypress’ apartment and laboratory. It was the only lead they had.

“Wireless internet,” Eversor muttered. “It almost makes searching for information too easy.” The Northern Star Mark IX “Eagle” suit could request information from the ship, and the ship’s advanced computers would break into any data network and relay the information back to the suit. As it was, the ship was not responding to communications, and the drop team would simply have to get on the computers and look – not that this was much harder.

Eversor asked his suit which office belonged to Rojas, and after a half-second search the suit had analyzed the building, cross-referenced it with city architecture plans, and highlighted the detective’s office window. He uploaded the data to Haegr’s suit.

“Ground floor. Got it?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Run a thermal.”

“It’s empty, boss.”

“You stay and look out. Listen in on the scanners, make sure Rojas isn’t coming back. We’ll slip in through the back.”

Eversor and Haegr crept through the bushes around the corner of the building. The area was still quite deserted, and they approached the door. Eversor waved his hand in front of the card-swipe and the lock clicked open. With one quick glance around, they casually entered the building.

Down the hall and to the right, stopping only once to press themselves flat against the wall to avoid a plainclothes officer going the other way, they arrived at Rojas’ office.

“Mechanical lock,” Eversor whispered. “Haegr, deal with it.”

Haegr looked around quickly, and extended a finger toward the lock. A glowing colony of nanites began to creep out of his fingertip into a tiny obelisk. Haegr pressed his finger to the lock, and the nanites slid inside and started to solidify in the shape of the tumblers. Less than a second later, Haegr twisted his finger, and the softkey undid the lock.

“Keep a lookout,” Eversor said, and he slipped inside the office, closing and locking the door behind him.

The place was cluttered and cramped, especially so for Eversor’s sheer size in his armor. He was careful not to disturb anything as he knelt in front of Rojas’ still-running computer. He detached a small radio dongle from his belt and pressed it to one of the computer’s USB jacks, and the dongle created a small plug out of nanites as Haegr’s finger had. In a moment, he had unlocked the computer (her logon was e_rojas03 and her password was “Julio”) and he commanded the dongle to automatically locate the case file. In another moment, it was open, and a copy had been saved to his suit’s memory.

“Looks like Rojas investigated a self-defense killing at one of the local university’s labs,” Eversor informed Haegr. “This is dated three days ago. The report indicates that Dana Redwood… wait.” Redwood’s name was hyperlinked, and selecting it brought up a full file. “Redwood has never broken the law. Why does this file exist?” A short scan provided the answer. “Emperor. The police know about the Solon. They don’t appear to know what the Solon are, but the term links to a hidden file listing domestic terrorist groups. It seems the police had conducted a private investigation into someone named Jack Harris, who had vanished after acquittal for charges of sexual assault four years ago. The investigation was being conducted by an organization called WORLDPOL, an international cooperative of federal police bureaus. Harris had been a world traveler and a League champion, and they suspect he works for the Solon. If he’s still alive, he probably does, not that they would share that information with me.”

“Fascinating,” Haegr said, yawning theatrically into his microphone. “Should you inform the Solon that the cops are on to them?”

“The Solon’s problems aren’t ours,” Eversor said. “If the psychics don’t care if they get pinched, I don’t either. We have to limit Northern Star’s interference in other planet’s affairs as much as possible. Anyway, they started investigating Redwood because she provided free counsel to Harris before his trial. They suspect her, but not enough to start surveillance. She’s a Pokemon psychologist. Her department was given temporary custody of an animal that had been taken from its owner during court proceedings. The owner came back to steal the animal, and this Cypress fellow, he’s a friend of Redwood’s, was in the building at the time. The owner and Cypress got in a fight, and Cypress killed him in self-defense. The investigation should have been closed within a few minutes, but it says Rojas kept it open because there were several psychic pets at the scene, and their behavior didn’t add up. The witnesses all told her that the pets didn’t do anything to protect Redwood or Cypress, but Rojas determined that that was a lie: the pets did fight back. They didn’t use their powers, though, and that’s why Rojas thinks something fishy is going on.”

“Perhaps their powers were too strong or too weak to be of use in a simple fight?”

“Negative. Rojas entertained that possibility, then checked it – thoroughly – she’s remarkably canny. She recreated the fight in great detail, and was present for the autopsy of the victim. It says in her notes that he was on something similar to PCP, and would have been in a berserk rage. He definitely tried to kill everyone in that building. She wants to know why the pets didn’t use their powers. And so do I.”

“Captain, Rojas called the station. She is traveling to Redwood’s apartment.”

“That’s where we’re headed, I think. We need to locate Cypress and find out what he did with the headgear.”

“Then we’ll have to beat Rojas there, because it sounds to me like she has the same thing in mind.”


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The battery’s crew lay dead at Emendi’s feet. There had been twenty of them, none wearing armor, and the job had been pitifully easy. The cannons themselves were fifty feet each, housed in a huge chamber the size of a hangar, and stuck through some sort of force field, jutting into open space.

“Come in, Star,” Emendi said. “Weapon battery neutralized.”

“Sal!” shouted Lunaril. “The Star’s hit! We’re in deep trouble here!”

“How bad is it?”

“Orbit pattern decaying. She took most of it right in the port outboard engine.”

One of the two engines without which the Star could no longer fly. Emendi’s heart was gripped with fear.

“How long does she have?” Perhaps I could kill everyone else on this ship and move you all over here.”

“We’re already losing her, Sal.” Lunaril’s voice quivered slightly. “Hera, Sestus, and Asenath are doing all they can to keep her up now, but it’s no good.”

“Hold it up. I’ll be there in ninety seconds. Get in the airlock and get ready.”

“A hundred thousand tons of metal, man.” Emendi could feel her weak smile reaching out to him. “If it stays on course, it’ll drop right on Isshu. We can’t let it happen. We’ve got to ride it in.”

“You can’t ride it in, you can’t possibly survive going through the psychic barrier without the module in the shuttle.”

“We have to do what we have to do.” Emendi could see the Northern Star’s crippled bulk rushing past the ship he was on, diving gracefully toward Hielodar, breaking up as it went.

“I’ll bring the shuttle and dock it, you can all get inside and steer the Star from there.”

“No time, Sal.”

“We need you! Who cares if a city is destroyed? We’re talking about the end of the entire planet here!”

“You’ll have to do it without us, Sal.”

Emendi used his suit remote to summon the shuttle for another leap of faith. As the shuttle maneuvered into position, Emendi unclipped his vengeance from his belt – the small device he had brought with him. He activated it, and it began counting back from twenty seconds. He lobbed a grenade at the frame of the force field, clipped his gun to his back, and started running.

The grenade detonated and the force field shattered for a moment before the ship activated another one. Emendi had already been blown out by the escaping air and now flew freely though empty space in a skydiving X. For one last moment, he enjoyed the quiet serenity of space.

A moment later, it was still quiet, but a tiny moment, a new, grain-sized sun had existed less than a mile behind him. The flash was not blinding – there was nothing for it to reflect off of – but Hielodar’s denizens had certainly seen it.

The shuttle had tried to automatically match speed with him, but he still collided with it with such force as to knock the wind from him. He crawled inside and steered the shuttle after the falling Star, pushing the craft as hard as he could.

He caught sight of the ship, and though he would try, some part of his mind already knew he would never reach it in time. As he raced toward what was left of his beloved home, a blue flash struck the shuttle, sending it tumbling off course. Emendi leaned forward into the bubble canopy and looked off to his left, where he could see the black ship he thought he had destroyed firing on him mercilessly. It was some small consolation that the black ship was now even more extensively damaged than the Northern Star, and was crashing toward Hielodar just as certainly. Emendi looked back down, and he felt Lunaril reaching out to him, urging him to carry on, even as the Star fell towards the psychic barrier. It was too far gone now. It had always been too far gone. There had never been a chance.

Emendi gritted his teeth and swung the shuttle around. If he could not save his friends, he would pursue his enemies, and if any of them survived the crash, he would find them and execute them personally, mission be damned. But then another laser found its mark, critically damaging the shuttle. A wailing alarm sounded, but was silenced as a large part of the shuttle’s flank peeled back, revealing empty space. Emendi crawled out through the hole and hit his suit jets, reconfiguring his shields for a burn-in. As he dove toward the planet, he could see the black ship on his right, fire shooting out of it where oxygen escaped through cracks in the hull, and the Northern Star on his left, so far away now that it looked like the flame of a candle as it struck Hielodar’s upper atmosphere and began to burn up.

The space beneath him was a perfectly black disk. The psychic shielding did not allow the planet to be seen from space. He was too old to cry, but briefly entertained the possibility of simply opening his helmet and ending it.


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“Too late,” groused Haegr. Eversor simply crept up to the window and peered inside.

“Pay attention. There are psychics in there,” Eversor snapped. Haegr cleared his mind and masked his presence as Eversor already had.

Eversor leaned over the edge of the building’s roof and peered through the window. Inside, Eversor could see the woman he recognized as Redwood from the file, along with a couple local animals and a man he did not recognize – possibly Cypress, but probably not, as Rojas was already in the room with them and seemed to be shaking them down.

“What do you see?” Haegr grunted.

“Quiet. And quit moving around,” Eversor spat at him. After a moment, he continued. “Rojas is in there. So is Redwood and man I don’t recognize. Don’t think it’s Cypress. Also, two pets. Run a thermal.”

“I’ve got the five you mentioned, plus two in the bathroom. One human and something I don’t recognize. And they’re, uh…”

“How large is it?”

“About five six and a hundred pounds, bipedal, mostly human shaped, fans where its ears should be, narrow waist, large hands, dorsal and ventral fins. They’re both in the shower and they’re…”

“I know the one. It’s another psychic. They’re utterly insane, so don’t let it catch you off-guard.”

“Yes sir- wait, we’re going in?”

“As soon as Rojas leaves.”

Eversor leaned back onto the roof. If he had not been moving at that exact moment, he might have missed it, but for a split second his shadow grew darker. He looked straight up, and saw through the heavy grey clouds a bright pinpoint of light that faded almost before he saw it.

“Emendi…” he muttered. He heard the apartment’s door click, and he spied Rojas moving away. Rojas glanced up at the clouds, and then at the roof, a few feet to the left of where Eversor and Haegr were crouched. She stared for a moment, and then proceeded to the parking lot.

“That one’s going to be a problem. Come, Haegr.” Eversor flipped himself over the edge of the roof and onto Redwood’s balcony.

“Captain, I’ve killed off-worlders before, but I’ve never actually spoken to one,” Haegr said uneasily.

“Let me do the talking. And no matter what, keep those psychics out of your mind.”

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Dana’s hands were trembling. She sat down and stared at the floor, her mind having slowed to a crawl.

“Some tea, I think,” Loki said quietly. He looked down at Celia. “No, darling, you won’t have to leave. That’s right, we shall stop that mean lady.”

“Just doing her job, I suppose,” White said. His head snapped up at a tapping on the glass door to the balcony. The shades were open, but they saw nothing there. “As it is, I don’t know what to do about Minerva and Dom.” He turned again at more tapping on the glass. “Will she try to arrest him?” White opened the door to peek out. “And what about- oof!” White was shoved back into the apartment by a single arm, covered in heavy blue-grey plating, which hovered about six feet high. The body attached to the arm faded into sight, and after a second and a soft crackling sound, a person in a huge, alien suit of armor had let himself into the living room, followed by an even taller twin who closed the door and drew the shades behind him.

At that moment, the sound of the shower cut out, and the room was absolutely silent. The space-men looked around at the group in the room, who all looked back, no one moving or speaking.

Dana started to sputter softly, and fell silent again. After a couple failed attempts to draw breath, she finally managed an odd response. Rather than screaming, cowering, or extending a handshake of interstellar peace, she decided to berate the visitors.

“You’re looking for Dominic too, I suppose!?” Dana shrieked.

The two armored giants looked at each other, and then they turned back to her. “Why yes, ma’am. We are looking for Dr. Cypress.”

Eversor closed his suit voicecaster and switched to radio. “I might have warned you, Haegr, that this never goes well. I get a strange feeling, my friend, that all hell is about to break loose. And I do not mean that these people will react poorly to our appearance. I mean that the next stage in this disaster is about to happen.”

“So what do we do?”

“We wait for it to happen. At each stage, more data becomes available, and so for each step closer the disaster comes to happening, we get a step closer to stopping it.”

Eversor was so wise as to be almost prophetic, and he was, unfortunately, right.

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Emendi could not believe what he was seeing. His suit contained an altimeter, and so he knew he had not yet passed the barrier, and yet the planet Hielodar had just winked into existence beneath him. It was as though the black shield had withdrawn to a single point on the planet and vanished.

So this was the disaster – contact. The shields must have existed for a reason. They were in place to hide this system’s civilizations from whomever these new belligerents were. The disaster was the failure of this planet’s ability to hide itself.

This greatly simplified things, though. Emendi opened his mission dossier in free fall and adjusted it in a way that would show up to all of Northern Star.

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CATASTROPHIC EVENT IDENTIFIED: CONTACT BETWEEN HIELODAR AND UNKNOWN BELLIGERENT FORCE DUE TO FAILURE OF PLANETARY SHIELD.

MISSION OBJECTIVES UPDATED

PRIMARY MISSION OBJECTIVE: DESTROY BELLIGERENT FORCES. NEUTRALIZE ENEMY ABILITY TO CALL FOR ASSISTANCE.

PRIMARY MISSION OBJECTIVE: LOCATE AND REPAIR SHIELD GENERATOR BEFORE BELLIGERENT FORCE INVESTIGATES COMMUNICATIONS LOSS.

PRIMARY MISSION OBJECTIVE: LOCATE NORTHERN STAR CRASH SITE. SEARCH OUT AND RESCUE SURVIVORS. DESTROY ALL EVIDENCE.

EMPEROR PRESERVE US.




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