To call down the stars

[KnightVanguard]

Dear Reader,

Hello and thank you for dropping in. This is my first Solo thread in my first attempt to write within an online community. This post is only a draft and meant to give other writers insight into my literary style. It is not meant for the viewing of potential judges yet, there are likely several revisions in its future and I wouldn’t want to make you read this segment multiple times (large pieces may be changed or removed entirely).

If you have feedback or constructive criticism to offer you may PM me, I check in everyday and would be glad for the help. Still being in a draft stage this passage may omit important details that I have simply overlooked or may be unclear in places. I apologize for that in advance and will work to correct such mistakes if you let me know.

I hope you enjoy this modest offering and I look forward to writing with many of you soon.

~ KV


***

Ten years ago the borderlanders started pouring into Republic territory from their fringe worlds. On tiny civilian craft never meant for interstellar travel. On regal cargo freighters that had spent the last years holding court in heaps of scrap. They were divided by race and language and creed, but one thing held them together then. Fear. That was the first warning, like birds fleeing before a gathering storm. Soon after, an alien armada descended upon the outer planets like a horde of locusts. Massive warships blackened the sky through sheer numbers when they came to bleed a world dry.

The Cyrian people had never seen an enemy so powerful… or so barbaric. Stealing every resource the horde left only smoldering ruin in its wake. Entire colonies reduced to nothing but charred bone and ash. The Cyrians tried their best to fight, but the enemy pressed in from every direction. World by world the Republic was being devoured by the beast that called itself the Therin Federation. Ten years and only the last ragged lines of defense remained. Wrapped in this tattered armor the home world Cyrus was far removed from the bloody turmoil. For now…

Cyrus

On a cloudless night the stone surface of the Grand Library reflected the moonlight. A starry horizon melted into the sparkling ocean so it was hard to tell where either ended or if the sky flowed down in waves to beat a soothing lullaby against the shore. That secluded beach held the last hope for the Cyrian people, and a more magnificent prison Jonah could not have imagined.

Out on the terrace the crisp ocean breeze stirred his dark hair, lazily carrying the sounds of laughter and music and the salted scents of the sea. The tree line flirted with the edge of the sand, whispering with its rustling leaves. The island breathed a sigh of relief after the day’s oppressive heat. It wasn’t cold, but Jonah welcomed Amanda’s warmth by his side. Her arms rested on the stone rail as she watched the festival below, wisps of golden hair flowing behind her as the wind tugged playfully at her thin clothes. She was a green eyed vision, beautiful as any caged bird. Jonah smiled wistfully and took a sip of honeyed wine. He held his glass gently, rolling the drink in slow circles; for it felt as fragile as the mood. It was like a dream he feared to wake from.

This was the first time they found themselves relieved of duty in months. On the beach two stories beneath them the party was ringed by glowing torches and the other researchers swayed like the flames that lit the night. Servants in white made their way through the throng, granting food or drinks to any who wished it. Derek, a young man from Jonah’s own weapon’s division, twirled about a redhead whose name he couldn’t recall. The girl giggled and kicked up sand as she swirled. Others were paired as well, or chatting cordially with the friends they had made. They all glistened faintly in the firelight that embraced them and held back the darkness. “That looks like fun, doesn’t it?” Amanda asked without looking his way.

“Of course.” the lie tasted bitter, stealing the small pleasure of his drink. “But I’m not much of a dancer.” he finished absently. Reality was a shadow, ever present and hard to escape for long. For all the allure of the place, for all the supposed nobility of the cause that brought them there, he never found joy in it. Sometimes he was amazed by how well the others took their captivity. Just beyond the torchlight, not ten yards from where Derek pranced about, stood a man all in black. The soldier shifted his weight in the sand, moving a rifle from one hand to the other. Jonah could make out no others but he knew they were there. They were always there. The Republic had gathered its best and brightest to this place and had no intention of letting them go.

The Therin Armada made the nation fearful. It had made them desperate. The military found itself without restrictions and without morals. Many young scientists were “recruited” to work in places like the Library. The resulting advances in technology even seemed to stem the tide at first, but they were pillars of sand trying to push back the ocean. In the end what had once been the Republic’s most modest endeavor became its last hope for salvation.

Project Knight had grown into a chimera, absorbing the most fearsome pieces of the military’s failed initiatives. Energy weaponry, shielding, stealth technology, fusion power, artificial intelligence; everything was merged. Gravitational manipulation was the final piece of the puzzle. Recent development of the Gravitic Drive had made Cyrian ships the fastest in the known galaxy. Collapse two points in the fabric space into one and a bridge was formed, a wormhole. Ships could advance or retreat from battle in a fraction of the time, but even that was far from enough. Now a miniaturized version was supposed to give Knight the finishing touch. It would have been impressive, if it wasn’t sad.

“Why do you think he does that?” Amanda’s voice snapped him to the present. Her lips were pursed pensively, hesitant before the glass in her hand, “He stares at the stars endlessly if you let him. Like he’s never seen them before.” Her words were a bare whisper. The “he” she meant was standing on the beach below. It was the reason for the night’s celebration of wine and dancing, the first complete Knight Prototype: Vanguard. A humanoid figure garbed head to toe in ornate silvery armor, alone amidst the merriment and staring up at the sky. Two meters tall and lean as a man in his prime it was a symbol of Cyrian pride and an homage to the ancestral warriors for which it was named. Years of hard work and painstaking research, all for that jumped up robot. Tomorrow they would test its Gravitic Drive.

“Vanguard?” his cup clinked faintly on the railing as he lowered it with a grimace, “Maybe it’s distracted by shiny objects. I’ll ask the team working on its visual sensory system to do something about it before the final test. I’m sure that sort of thing would cause problems in the field.”

Amanda merely gave him a cool sidelong glance but, for the way he cringed inside, she may well have slapped him, “He is so much more than some weapon Jonah. Independent thought, free will—“

“…a ghost in the machine?” He finished for her with a raised eyebrow. “You think Vanguard is a genuine personality. A synthetic creature giving rise to a soul... That’s science fiction nonsense and wishful thinking. I thought better of you Amanda.”

She rounded on him then, eyes aflame with anger and passion, “Don’t you understand? He’s wasted on the war.” relenting, she let out a heavy sigh that took her fight left with it, “I’m recommending we keep him here after the rest are built. He deserves better.” Her voice was meek but her concern sounded almost maternal. It would have been moving in any other context. Now it only soured his temper further.

“We deserve better Amanda. I don’t remember volunteering for this seven years ago. I remember soldiers dragging me out of my University on Orion and shipping me here.” Everything had been so perfect until the Prototype found its way into the conversation. Into his life. The damned thing managed to ruin everything. He had wanted to wait for the right time to ask her, but the atmosphere was gone. This would be his last chance and it couldn’t go to waste. He clasped her bare shoulders, words flowing in a rush, “Let’s leave tomorrow. I can make arrangements. I can take you with me and we’ll be free of all this.”

“You can’t talk like that Jonah, it’s treason.” she shook her head, soft hands pushing against his chest as she avoided his eyes, “Besides our work is too important. Think of the people. If this fails… The Therins are merciless. They’ll raze every planet in the Republic if we don’t stop them.”

“To hell with the Republic and its people. We’re no better than slaves here.” Was she really so blind? “Mass production of the Knights is never going to win the war, nothing will. It’s past time we cut our losses.”

“I know you don’t mean that Jonah.” She started delicately, “And I know this has been hard on you. It’s hard on us all. But where would we even go if we left? Vanguard is the only chance any of us have. No matter what happens we can’t abandon him now.”

Vanguard? Vanguard? Would she really rather die with that thing than survive with him… “No.” He growled, “I’m done. Working on that damned droid has taken everything from me; my past, my home, my freedom. I will NOT let it take my life too.” He leveled an accusatory finger at the machine and clumsily swiped his glass over the railing. Too late he lunged to catch it, the red wine tumbling out of his reach, falling to the sand in slow motion. The shrill cry of breaking glass was much louder than it should have been… the music had stopped. His colleagues were looking up in stunned silence; even the guard had taken note of the disturbance. A different gaze drew Jonah’s though. A shimmering blue visor set in a silver-white helm. Vanguard fixed him with an icy glare. But it was just a droid and such emotion was impossible. Jonah backed away from the rail cautiously in spite of himself, “You’ll wish you chose me.” He spat under his breath, turning from her. His words hung stale in the air as he withdrew to his room.

[KnightVanguard]

Cool sand gave beneath Amanda’s bare feet, spreading between her toes as she stepped onto the beach. It was late and few of the others remained to waste away the night, even the torches had been put to rest. The ruin of Jonah’s wineglass gleamed morosely in the moonlight, and though the beach had drank thirstily the spot was still bloodied. “Are you alright?” Victoria’s approach had been silent before she stopped to speak.

Doctor Victoria Chase. Head shield designer, she was an older woman with long black hair. Fine lines spoke not just of her ready smile but also of how much she worried. There was much to worry about, “Yes thank you. But Jonah…” the terrace above was dark and empty now.

“He’ll be okay, just give him some time.” Victoria counseled, “Jonah’s been here longer than most any of us. I can’t blame him for feeling what he does, and neither should you. He’ll be in better spirits tomorrow I’m sure.”

“I hope so.” She murmured.

A lone guard stood by the automatic doors leading inside, watching them as he cradled his firearm. Victoria stiffened, “Well, I’m heading to bed. Try not to stay out too much longer, curfew will be up soon.” The older woman squeezed her arm reassuringly before retiring. Vanguard stood off by the water. There was no one else outside.

Amanda had been applauded for her incredible work on his artificial mind when he was activated mere days earlier. She had designed his mental architecture from the ground up to handle his many complex systems. However, Jonah wasn’t the only one who thought of the Knight as little more than a tool. Her colleagues saw Vanguard’s human mannerisms as a feat of programming wizardry, she on the other hand? She felt something more.

For the past three nights she had come to him to talk until the guards herded her off to bed. He waited quietly at the edge of the water, his back to her and his eye to the sky as it ever was, “Doctor Sironin.” He had the voice of a man of twenty; his electronic tone had the sound of an exotic accent.

He always addressed her by proper name, a habit she’d tried to break him of to no avail. She came to stand beside him, the chill waves lapping at her feet, “How did you know I was coming?” she smiled, the gentle surf pushing muddy sand over her toes and bartering for some from under her soles.

“I can see the future. And also, I heard you speaking with Doctor Chase.” He finished sarcastically, turning from his study of the constellations. His eye glowed with a boyish mischief, “More questions tonight?”

“If you don’t mind.” The sky was a sparkling river of light, “What are you doing?”

His words were soft, reverent as he turned his attention back to the heavens, “Listening to the stars.”

That pricked her interest, “What do you expect to hear?”

“No idea.” He offered a slight shrug, “But when I look at them I feel I can almost hear them whispering. It’s like they’re trying to tell me something very important. If only I were closer I could hear.” The construct rested a hand on his chest, “My heart is a star. It makes me feel connected with the others.” The Knight was talking of his fusion core, a tiny ball of plasma that could likely power him indefinitely. He took a step back and the sea quickly filled the impression left by his foot, one even shallower than hers, “I’m lessening the effects of gravity on my body.” He answered her unspoken question.

He had reduced his own weight just by manipulating energy fields, “You’re practicing with the Gravitic Drive?”

“Tomorrow you don’t have to step into a swirling black vortex protected only by your skills in higher math and understanding of quantum physics. Small wonder you aren’t nervous” he chided.

That was true, “You make it sound dangerous.” The workings of and theories behind that device were beyond her understanding.

“Only dangerous? Then I haven’t given the drive credit. I suppose I should explain.” Vanguard gestured to the horizon, “The same way the world seems flat even though it’s round, space is twisted and warped. You can think of it as a ball of twine. Normally if you want to reach a certain point you have to travel along the thread, through all of its curves and loops, until you get to where you’re going.”

He crouched low and began to draw in the moist sand. His fingers ended in razor claws, weapons only meant for harm, but his strokes were deft and gentle. It was hard to say what was more intriguing, the starlit diagrams or his decision to use them. She listened on in thoughtful silence. “A wormhole creates the shortest possible straight line between two points in space, letting you jump from your place on the thread straight to where you want to go. Now, making a wormhole requires a joint singularity and that’s where things get interesting.” He drew a perfect circle with arrows pointing in, “At this side a black hole needs to form.” Then a new circle but with arrows pointed out, “An opposing white hole has to form on the other end.” He drew a line connecting the two, “They’re born in different places but they technically occupy a single point in space by connecting the two areas with a bridge. The Gravitic Drive keeps the black hole from crushing everything nearby into a grain of sand and the white hole from firing objects out the other end at the speed of light. A single mistake during the forming of, travel through, or dispersal of a wormhole could be catastrophic for the area and anything in it.”

A wave pushed past them and stole the drawings away before fleeing back to the ocean, “Impressive. But what if you wanted to change directions while you crossed the bridge?”

“I’d advise against it. First off, bridge is a poor term, I should have said ‘stream’. The stream guides you from the black hole to the white and can never flow in the opposite direction or change course. To choose a new destination both ends of the wormhole need to be closed and then a white hole formed, but that’s where you meet a number of serious problems. To start, the stream is separate from normal space and is not affected by the universe’s gravity, inertia, or momentum.” He nodded to the sky, “We and all of those stars are always moving incredibly fast. But, if you were removed from the relative motion of the universe there would be no way to tell your own position, speed, or even the direction you were traveling. Opening a white hole could literally drop you anywhere.”

It wasn’t her field of study, but his explanation made it easy to follow, “No wonder you’re worried.”

“Not worried actually. I feel anxious, but not about the wormhole. I haven’t been given my orders yet, but when the testing is over tomorrow I’ll finally know my purpose.” He paused, “Dr. Sironin, what are the Therins? I overheard a guard saying I was supposed to deal with them. It would be nice to know what I was meant to do.”

His curiosity was innocent but, after the conversation they just had, his question was jarring. It was easy to forget that for all his intelligence he was still ignorant of so much. Would it be right to let him know of the war and his place in it, was he ready to know? Am I ready to tell him... “Vanguard, if no one gave you orders tomorrow what would you want to do?”

“You mean, if I had no purpose?” his voice was riddled with uncertainty.

“That’s not what I mean.” she gently assured, “If you could choose, if you were in charge of your own destiny, what would you do?”

The silvery sentinel grew quiet, “I thought that was already decided.”

“Sometimes things change and you don’t always end up walking down the same path you started on.” Her mother used to say those words. Passing them to Vanguard felt right in a way Amanda couldn’t explain.

“Isn’t this the path you started on?” the disquiet remained but his curiosity got the better of him.

“No. I had a very different life before this one.” It had only been three years since she had been accepted to a prestigious university, looking forward to a promising career in computer design. In the central worlds the war was only a rumor then and she had known little more of it than Vanguard did. Looking back, it seemed like someone else’s life.

He studied her intently, “Do you miss it?”

A gust of wind came off the water, spraying them with a fine mist, “Sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to be here.” She smiled, brushing back a loch of golden hair that fell across her face, “You could say my destiny was to create you. You’re very important Vanguard, special in ways people don’t realize yet. But they will.”

Droplets of water clung stubbornly to his frame as though his worries had made him sweat. She didn’t realize how tense the Knight was until he relaxed and took a less rigid stance. “I’m glad you’re here Doctor Sironin.”

“So am I.” she couldn’t let him be sent off to the front lines, but how could she stop the military from sending him? It was a problem she intended to solve as quickly as possible. A shadow peeled away from the trees, a rifle loosely held in its hands. The guard said nothing, but then he didn’t have to. It was time to go. “Vanguard,” she laid a hand on his chest, “Whatever happens tomorrow don’t confine yourself to a destiny here. One day you’ll have a chance to choose for yourself and you’ll do great things. I’m sure of it.” There was more she wanted to say, but there would always be tomorrow. As she let herself be led away she could feel the Knight watching after her.

[KnightVanguard]

Jonah

Jonah nervously paced the small space of his bland room. Fives steps to the door and five to the wall, back and forth. His shoes clacked softly on the granite floor. Morning rays crept through his window, sneaking past the blinds where they could. A digital clock on his desk displayed the time in garish red. It was an ugly thing but, next to a bed and an uncomfortable chair, it was his most alluring possession. It read a quarter to ten, “They’re late, what’s taking them so long?” That wasn’t true, he had an hour yet. Still, he had been up for the last three. Waiting. He was too tense to do much else.

He was tired of standing. The chair screeched melodramatically when he pulled it out to take a seat. It just reminded him of how much he wanted to leave, and how he finally could. His security pass rested on the desk. The black metal card had bought his freedom. It would have bought Amanda’s too, but she’s made her choice. Jonah had made his almost a year ago. The Republic could never win the war but with the speed of their ships they could drag it out for a very long time. The Therin’s knew this, so when Jonah secretly made them an offer they were more than happy to listen to what he had to say.

Contrary to Cyrian propaganda Therin’s were not grotesque monsters. They were men and women just like anyone else. It would be difficult to even pick one out from among the people on Cyrus. That fact would work in his favor. A year was a long time to devise a plan. He mapped out security on the Library, determined the best escape route, and he found the perfect time to strike. But even with all Jonah’s work only a handful of his conspirators would be able to infiltrate such a heavily guarded facility. They would have to be enough.

Time did not hurry itself on Jonah’s account. The next hour felt more like four. An hour spent fretting over his carefully laid plans. Those worries only interrupted by grim thoughts of what would happen if his treachery was discovered before he made good his escape. He shivered even as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I thought there would be two of you.” Jonah bolted upright, knocking his chair over as the intruder spoke. He hadn’t even heard the man enter. Dressed all in gray the stoic stranger regarded him coolly, “You are Jonah aren’t you? You said there would be another who would escape with you.”

The researcher breathed deeply to still the frantic beating of his heart. The stranger had stark white hair despite youthful features and possessed a… stillness that was slightly unnerving. Like a coiled serpent. “She…” Jonah shook his head, it was too late for Amanda, “Things have changed. It’s only me now. But where’s the rest of your team?” They couldn’t have sent one man.

“Call me Azrael.” Azrael. A chill ran down Jonah’s spine, “My men are waiting for the mission to start.” The man replied, righting the fallen chair with exaggerated care, “Do you have the item you promised?”

The security pass. He pulled the black card from his pocket but hesitated before surrendering it, “I was promised a substantial reward for this.”

Azrael nodded respectfully, “You will be paid what you deserve; you have my word.” He plucked the card from Jonah’s grip without waiting for a reply, “Are you certain you can’t help us hack the Library’s database?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Jonah admitted unhappily. The extra work could have reaped even more of a reward, not to mention dealing a blow to the people who had kept him a prisoner for nearly a decade. Sadly it was simply beyond his skill, “That pass will give you access to the central archives but once you get there you’re on your own.”

“I see, then it’s time we parted company.” Jonah’s eyes went wide as a pistol gleamed darkly in Azrael’s hand, When did he have time to draw?

The muzzle flashed not with a roar, but a whisper. Hot searing pain like he’d been swallowed by a monstrous fire. Jonah staggered back and fell to his knees with a thud. A crimson flower bloomed on his chest. Its petals spread wide as his skin grew pale and red droplets dripped to the floor. His eyes welled with tears. He felt weak, so weak. He could barely hear his own voice and it was hard to focus on anything but the regrets that bubbled to the surface, “Amanda… I… I was almost free…”

Azrael leveled the gun to the researcher’s head, “You are free.”


Vanguard

It was finally time. Light poured through the atrium’s transparent ceiling with the sun nearly meeting the highest point in the sky. It was a cloudless day. Beautiful, in so far as a scene with just one star could be called beautiful. Vanguard was not nearly so impressed with the golden orb as his makers seemed to be. He strode through the massive chamber to the raised marble platform at its heart. Armor gleaming brightly, his visor shifted from blue to green, from gold to crimson and back again as he tested his systems. Obsidian columns rose from the ground, ringing his stage like a stone altar.

The hall’s inner walls were made of glass and they shimmered with a light of an energy field. It was an extra layer of protection. The outer walls were granite and in the space between were many of the researchers he had come to know. But Doctor Sironin was not among them. There were new faces he didn’t recognize as well. Men in prim uniforms adorned with medals, important seeming figures that he passed over in disinterest. To them he was a thing little different from the glass or the field or the marble at his feet. Doctor Sironin was the only one who looked at him differently. But then, he thought sadly, Amanda isn’t here.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked from behind him as though his thoughts had summoned her.

He stood silent in his surprise as Doctor Sironin tapped a soft melody into the data-pad she held, “Oh, of course.” He replied cheerfully, remembering where he was and why. It was silly to think she might not come.

“All of your readings seem to agree.” Her smile was small. There was a sadness to it that was reflected in her emerald eyes. A low hum built within the dark columns and they began to tremble nervously. “What is that?” her confusion was clear.

“A failsafe linked to the room and triggered by damage to this dais.” He tapped the marble with his foot, “If I make a mistake and lose control of the wormhole they will automatically seal it to protect everyone else.” Ships carried an identical piece of equipment, something Vanguard lacked as no one could design a version small enough for him to use.

“But what about you?” In a strange way her concern gave him confidence.

“You should go behind the barriers, it’s almost time.” He hesitated, “Thank you for everything you Amanda.” It was rude to just call her by name, but it felt right to him.

She grinned when he said it, but that didn’t last. She shook her head mournfully, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything worth your thanks.”

She turned swiftly and hurried out of the room. What does that mean? He would have to ask later, the task at hand needed his full concentration. The last step was one Vanguard had to take on his own. Humans could not travel through the stream. Accelerating to light speed would kill them near instantly, and that was only the first hurdle. The stream was a torrent of ravenous energy and radiation, some of which did not even exist in the natural universe. Vanguard’s Gravitic Drive would cancel his inertia and remove the danger of his speed. Energy shielding coupled with his armor would be able to weather the rest. Of course, there was the slim chance that his work was wrong and he would emerge from the other portal as several billion pieces of tiny yet ludicrously expensive equipment. That was less than comforting. He ran the calculations one last time.


Azrael

Like his father before him, and his father before him, Azrael stood among the Black Guard. For three centuries of unbroken prosperity and unbridled expansion the order struck down every enemy of the Therin people, crushing any inferior species they met with ease… But that was before they met the Cyrians. Cunning and cowardly to the man the inferiors avoided destruction by fleeing from battle and then striking from the shadows. He grimaced in disdain; a true warrior would never lower himself to such tactics. However, when Azrael was called upon for this mission of deception and subterfuge, he swallowed his pride and sullied his honor. He had sworn everything to Thera and next to that even his virtue as a warrior meant nothing.

Grim faced, he presided over the work of his men and kept his displeasure in check. Nestled in the bowels of the Great Library, the archives were the main repository for Cyrian knowledge. It was a sprawling chamber, forested with row upon row of tall stone terminals that glittered darkly in the dim light. Its solemn atmosphere was like an ancient temple. It feels like I’ve intruded on hallowed ground. Not for the first time did the warrior feel a begrudging respect for the people who could build such a place.

In the same plain grays he wore, five of Azrael’s agents poured over control consoles that dwarfed them easily. The rain of key presses and the steady drone of power were the only things that filled the quiet. He took a step back to avoid the growing red pool flowing from a black clad soldier at his feet. A handful of others lay in the outer hall, while noncombatants lay dead in that very room, bodies hidden in the deeper shadows. The stench of death was already assaulting him, a sickly sweet smell that he would never grow fond of, “Sir,” Israfil, his hard-eyed second in command called, “their schematics and designs are better protected than we thought. If I had more time I could access them without triggering an alarm.”

He shook his head to his friend and comrade of many battles, “You don’t have more time. The next guard patrol is only a few minutes away.” Jonah’s work had served them well. He was a coward to betray his people, but a thorough diligent coward without whom their plan would never have succeeded, “Learning of their technology is only a secondary objective and I won’t let it jeopardize the mission. Forget it and set the charges.” He felt a pang of guilt as he gave the order. The place had its own pride, a quiet majesty, that made destroying it seem wrong somehow. But he would not be lax in his duty, no matter what he felt.

Israfil gave him a long look that said they shared the same feelings, though he would never voice such doubts in front of their subordinates. Then the officer saluted, fist over heart, “For Thera.” The grizzled man led the other Black Guards to place their explosives where they might do the most damage, ideally bringing the entire facility crashing down.

“For Thera.” The warrior responded in soft remorse.


Amanda

A glass wall was all that separated the observation area from the containment lab. But, as Vanguard stood there prepared to risk his life without ever having known why, he seemed so very far away. Only the lead designers of each team were allowed to view the testing. Though it was supposed to be an honor Jonah’s absence was unsurprising. Standing apart from her colleagues was a select group of military officers and personnel, chief among them Admiral Stephen Cole, a scowling bear of a man. Amanda had only seen him in person a bare handful of times but she knew him as the man responsible for all of the Library’s projects. That included Knight.

She had approached him that morning in private about her request for Vanguard. At least she had tried. She was so intimidated by the gruff figure she never had the chance to do more than mutter an apology. To her shame she’d failed the Knight then. Here she had the chance to try again. She steeled her courage, “Admiral Cole?” her voice creaked only slightly.

He turned from his study of Vanguard, “Doctor Sironin right? Was there a problem with your evaluation of the Knight?”

“No sir but,” she licked her lips, “there is a problem. Vanguard, I don’t think we should risk him on this test. Or send him into battle at all. He’s sentient, he has a mind of his own. This is profound and unprecedented we—“

The Admiral held up a hand, “Wait.” He took a step closer and blackened his tone, “You want me to throw away years of research and gods know how many resources because you think it can think?” he arched an eyebrow, his dark eyes as hard as chiseled stone, “Are you fucking insane?”

“B-but sir I—“

“No.” he cut her off roughly, “I understand you did a lot of work to make it and you don’t want the Therins breaking your shiny new toy, but I did not invest so much in that robot so I could give it to you as a pet.” The Admiral shook his head.

She tried weakly to get a word in, “I just thought—“

“You’re not here to think. You’re here to do what I tell you and then you’re free to die. Now I don’t want to hear another word about this, or that might happen sooner rather than later.” He turned away, muttering some things under his breath that she was glad she couldn’t hear. She found herself wishing the glass hadn’t been sound proof. What would Vanguard have done if he’d heard?

Of all her “friends” only Victoria so much as gave her a sympathetic look. The others had decided the floor was the most interesting thing they had ever seen. Jonah was right in that much, they were slaves. That fact had never been clearer to her than at that moment. One of the technicians cleared his throat to break the awkward silence, “The Knight Prototype is about to engage its gravitic drive.” Amanda didn’t recognize the man. He had to have come with the Admiral.

Cole nodded with a small smile, “Here we go.” At first nothing happened. Amanda stood with the others for several tense seconds until she could just make out a tiny black bubble in the air ahead of Vanguard. Without warning the bubble erupted into a menacing sable sphere as high and wide and the Knight was tall. The room darkened as the orb devoured light and stole the luster from Vanguard’s armor. A ripple passed through the glass wall, like a pebble dropped into a pond. For an instant the wall was pulled towards the sphere. The Admiral took a surprised step back, “Thomson, what the hell was that?”

“A power spike sir.” Noted the tech who spoke before, “Nothing to worry about, it’s well within our expected predictions.” The Admiral didn’t seem too assured. For that matter, neither did many of the researchers. Amanda was worried, though not about herself. She clutched her datapad to her chest and refused to take her eyes off of Vanguard. Be careful. Thomson put a finger to the communicator in his ear and listened intently, “The facility on planet Galvan is reporting that a white hole has formed in the target area. We are go to proceed.”

A green light flickered in the central chamber. Instead of immediately entering the portal Vanguard took a few seconds to gaze through the glass and catch Amanda’s eyes. She couldn’t tell if he tried to say anything. The Knight reached out to the black orb and, in the moment his hand touched it, vanished. It would be minutes before they knew if he emerged from the other end of the portal unscathed. Or at all. Only the dark sphere remained, hovering ominously and alone in the vast chamber.

A foreboding rumble shook the ground and threw Amanda off balance. The glass walls quivered then grew still as she regained her footing, the others looking as confused as she felt. A web of fissures cleaved the containment lab floor, racing towards the glass. But the sphere was calm and quiet and obviously not to blame. Tremors rocked the building and muffled booms cried from somewhere beneath her feet. She faintly heard the Admiral demanding answers and Victoria yelling that they had to leave. But none of that mattered because a single rift sprinted along the ground and cracked the marble dais from below.

The three obsidian columns flashed a brilliant white and their crackling energies enveloped the sphere, crushing it in their grasp until it disappeared. “No…” she whispered, even as light began to shine through the cracks and everyone else tried to flee for their lives. Even as she knew she should have run with them. Vanguard Amanda ran towards the glass, “NO!” The thunderous cry of an angry god swallowed her scream in its own. The room filled with fiery wrath and the glass shattered into a storm of deadly shards throwing her back to the wall and dragging her into darkness.


Vanguard

The stream was an aurora of reds and violets. Like a living thing the energy pulsed, its current carrying him steadily to a ball off white light no bigger than his palm. Like a raging river it swept him along far too powerful to fight. The Knight went with the flow or rather, he surrendered to it. His path was dangerous yet startlingly beautiful. A soothing hum filled the space where he had assumed there would be no sound at all. Then an ebon wave overtook him from behind. It glided effortlessly to the shining light of his exit. And suddenly they both disappeared. Impossible! It was the nightmare scenario. Vanguard hastily diverted all available power to his shields.

The wormhole’s collapse was as abrupt as it was violent. The stream he had thought beautiful turned into a screaming monster without pity or mercy and it set upon him as if starved for a meal. Bands of crackling crimson tore at him, biting into his shields like they weren’t there. Silver sheets of armor the strength of battleship plate were sheared off wherever the crimson tendrils struck. The only sound that filled his sensors was the stream’s terrible screech. He worked frantically, trying to ignore a mounting tide of warnings, errors, and critical system failures. He needed an exit to somewhere. Anywhere. And suddenly he ripped open a white hole.

His sensors were blinded by light as he emerged, but the scream faded away the moment he passed through. It was replaced quickly by howling wind. His heat warnings cried in agony as his scant remaining armor burst aflame and he streaked across the night sky from a high altitude. Very high. He could make out rolling green hills below and when he did they rushed up to greet him. The impact sent a quake through the ground and etched a long ugly scar into the earth. Vanguard lay in his smoldering crater as the skeletal remains of his former glory. His visor was cracked almost to uselessness and his body hadn’t the strength to move at all. Of all his systems the only one that seemed intact was his mind. This at least left him the power to… lament his situation. With no idea of where he was, and without the ability to do anything else, Vanguard shut down for emergency repairs.


***


This will be continued as soon as I have the time. A few things have come up so I need to hold off for a bit longer.