Nova Wars

It is the smallest thing that makes an entire society explode into bloodlust and violence. A small thing, noticeable only by historians, that turns the entire political scene into a metaphorical bloodbath as everyone scrambles to eliminate rivals and secure their positions.

The Titan Colony rebellion, six months of brutal and horrific fighting in dome cities and habitats, finally kicked off because of a broken ATM. The First Artificial War started over a cup of tepid tea. The Second Digital War started over a cash shop dispute in a video game.

Millions dead.

The event that turns the tinder into a raging inferno is, so often, small and insignificant and would have been nothing if the tinder, firewood, thermite, FOOF, and coal dust had not been prepared for months, years, decades, generations.

That, my dear divine representatives, is why the city is on fire and I am leaving. - Confederate Diplomat Dreams of Something More, Diplomatic Services Corps final message to the Yentarik Theocracy, 38 P2PW.

The stateroom cabin was dim, smelling of quikheal compounds and burn gel. The only light was a pinlight attached to the top of the sketchpad. The only sound was two people breathing and the scratching of a charcoal drawing tip against rough paper as Strechen sketched Tawtchee's sleeping form.

He was laying on the sole bunk in her room, on his stomach, his lower jaw resting on the mattress. Strechen had noticed he was motionless, not moving much more than his toes curling and uncurling and making the odd fist or two. Other than that, he was perfectly still.

She knew it was to allow his back to heal.

More lines, detailing how the blanket folded, more shading, showing the deep shadows.

The light from the pistol in her lap shined up the paper as she worked.

After a long time Tawtchee's whiskers trembled slightly. He didn't move, staying perfectly still, breathing deep and slow.

Strechen could see he had left rapid eye movement and his whiskers kept twitching.

"It's all right that you're awake. Just lay there, let the quikheal do its work," Strechen said.

"Are you all right?" he asked, opening his eyes.

Strechen sighed. "I didn't have surgery to remove the flesh from my back. I am perfectly all right."

"Good," Tawtchee said. He closed his eyes again.

"Why are you concerned about my well being?" Strechen asked.

"I learned a long time ago that if someone cares about you further than how much bang you can put downrange or how many bodies you can stack, that you show them the same amount of care, if not more," Tawtchee said. He shifted slightly. "Back feels weird and itchy."

"Want me to check it?" Strechen asked.

"Please," Tawtchee shifted slightly.

Strechen got up, moved over, and moved the blanket. The healing pad on his back showed a luminescent thin green stripe around the pad and Strechen frowned.

It should have been red or amber.

She tapped the little button on the edge that would project the state of the healing tissue on the top of the pad and stepped back.

The skin was back.

The fur was back.

The scars were back.

"What?" Tawtchee asked.

"A moment. I need to summon Hrekkel and Ee'eerlee'u," Strechen said. She put the blanket back over and patted his leg. "It'll be all right."

She moved out into the hallway and made the comlink call.

-----

Tawtchee sat on the exam table, a modesty wrap around his waist.

His back was scarred, just as it was before. The discolorations in the fur were the same.

It was as if he had never been flayed alive.

"How?" Strechen asked.

"Nanites? Changes to his cellular replication and healing? There are many ways the changes could have been made," Hrekkel said.

"You do not seem shocked," Strechen said.

Hrekkel shook his head. "No. During Lee'u and my trials, we saw many such dark miracles," he said. "Beings disemboweled stuffing their own guts back in to stagger away as they healed even as we watched. Beings putting their severed limbs back on so that they healed right away. A limb regrowing in heartbeats."

"And the dead walk," Ee'eerlee'u said coldly.

"And the dead walk," Hrekkel nodded.

"Can I get dressed?" Tawtchee asked.

"Go ahead," Hrekkel said. He looked at Strechen. "He'll be fine. Watch for any change in eye color, any signs of static electricity buildup, or any taste of berries in your mouth."

"Why?" Strechen asked, moving over to help Tawtchee down off the exam table.

"He was exposed to Terror," Ee'eerlee'u said.

"That," Hrekkel added. He turned and walked out. "We will reach the Third Guardian in less than seventy-two hours. We must prepare."

"I'm OK," Tawtchee said as Strechen helped him put on his pants.

Strechen didn't answer.

She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

-----

The ship carefully staged down from Transit Space, exiting with only a flare of transit energies and a sheet of harmless particles that dissolved and vanished from realspace within a handful of kilometers.

Strechen watched from the hologram on the desk as the bridge crew immediately set about to scanning the system and getting information on it. The former XO sat in the Captain's Throne, with Expediter Ee'eerlee'u standing against the wall behind her. She could see that Hrekkel was also observing from his lab that took up a large section of the ship.

The news came back that the system was nearly bare. A single stellar mass, a white dwarf, and a single hypermassive gas giant nearly five hundred light seconds from the stellar mass.

"Grav signature," one of the sensor techs called out. "Manifesting only fifty kilometers from the starboard bow."

"Wait for it," came Hrekkel's voice. "All weapons offline. All shielding but particle screens on standby."

There was silence for a moment.

"Grav signature began moving then vanished. Contact has been lost."

Strechen nodded.

The lights blinked twice then steadied.

"There it is," Hrekkel said softly. "We've been boarded."

Strechen just waited.

There were exclaimations of shock as the control consoles and monitor stations suddenly all crashed, putting out gibberish and random noise before shutting off.

"Steady," Hrekkel said.

The holotank in the middle of the bridge suddenly came on.

A Terror made of pure flowing code stood in the middle of the holotank. It was wearing a shipboard jumpsuit with the sigil of the Confederacy on one shoulder. Its face was hard and angry looking.

"Who are you and how did you get here?" the Terror demanded.

Hrekkel appeared as a hologram, sprouting from a small hologram projector tacked onto the deck with quikweld compound.

"I am Explorer Hrekkel, of the Dra.Falten Empire," Hrekkel stated.

"More rats," the holographic Terror sneered, raising one hand that began to crackle with electricity.

The lights dimmed slightly.

"Prisoner and survivor the Detainee. One who has walked the ruins and violence of the Clownface Nebula," Hrekkel continued. "Who has seen the stars of the Mithril Nebula die in the night sky from the shattered battlegrounds of humanity's last stands against the Atrekna."

The hand lowered.

The Terror nodded.

"I have led an expedition that has sat with Magnus Oathsworn and eaten fruit. Who has seen Lady Surcsee Oathsworn declare her identity to the universe, and have set upon the Path Less Traveled," Hrekkel said. His hologram gave a sweeping bow. "I have come, with my loyal crew, to seek the next step of the Path Less Traveled."

The Terror stared for a long moment.

"Do you know what lies at the end of your path?" the hologram asked.

"Danger. Not just to the Dra.Falten, but to the galaxy at large," Hrekkel stated. He leaned forward, looking as if he was pressing his hand against the inside of the holofield. "The Confederacy is on the edge of falling. Species have come from beyond the borders to attack it, and the Detainee warns of dire threats to the entire Galactic Arm Spur."

The Terror just listened then stood still for a long moment.

"If anyone would know, she would," he said softly. "Do you not fear for your empire if my people are released?"

Hrekkel shrugged. "That sounds like a problem for future me, and he's busy talking shit about me right now."

The Terror suddenly laughed. "You'll show him, you'll ruin his life!"

Hrekkel nodded. "Exactly. For your people to be a threat to mine later, my people must still exist and I fear that they will not. That with the fall of the Confederacy, my people will be so much chaff before the wind."

The Terror nodded. "Logical. Understandable," he looked up slightly. "The Confederacy is falling. Its strength spent," he closed his eyes and then opened them. "You realize, that at the end of this path are my people? Not technology for you to steal, not graves for you to rob, but my people."

Hrekkel nodded slowly. "Yes. Without allies, the Dra.Falten Empire dies, and possibly more."

"Very well. I will transmit the coordinates and methods of reaching the Fourth Guardian," the Terror said.

"Might I know your name before we part?" Hrekkel asked.

The Terror stood a moment, then shook his head. "Normally, this is the part where I overawe you with my power and rage, but, just call me 'Chuck' and you'll be fine."

"Thank you, Chuck, for agreeing to provide my people assistance in their time of need," Hrekkel said.

"Good journey to you," Chuck said.

The holotank cleared.

"Transit space entry detected," a sensor officer stated.

Hrekkel vanished from the holotank, then reappeared on Strechen's desktop. "Meet us in Conference Room Delta. Bring Tawtchee."

"I will," Strechen said.

-----

Hrekkel was looking over the data when Strechen arrived with Tawtchee in tow. Strechen had noticed how the smaller male was moving more and more easily, how the gray hairs in his fur were vanishing.

She attributed it to whatever the Sorceress had done to him.

Expediter Ee'eelee'u was sitting at the table, staring at some of the data.

"The path is not an easy one. It will require precise astrogration, as it leads to and into a dark nebula," Hrekkel said. He shook his head. "It is in our catalogue database as DBAD-214-457. It is in a bad position, regarding transit space, gravitational tides, and other issues. Due to its density we have no idea how many stars, if any, are inside of it. All attempts at probing or exploring it have failed."

"And that is where we are going?" Tawtchee asked, sitting down.

"To a spot just inside, maybe a light year into it. We move a half light-year into it, then we move down, to the starboard side, and forward another light year," Hrekkel said.

"So, no chance of seeing where we are going or running our own astrogation?" Ee'eerlee'u asked.

Hrekkel shook his head. "No," he looked up at the large female. "If there are any Terrors or Terror worlds in that nebula, there is no way to detect them. We mainly know of the nebula because it occludes our view of the star field. It is nothing more than a dark spot in the sky."

"May I ask a question about what was stated to the Terror?" Strechen asked.

"Of course," Hrekkel said. "Information and data is the cure to ignorance."

Strechen looked at Ee'eerlee'u, who nodded. She took a deep breath. "Is the Empire in danger?"

Hrekkel nodded. "Yes. The Empress believes that the Empire will somehow endure, but the Emperor believes that there is a serious threat to the Empire that will result in our destruction if we cannot gain allies to assist us."

"The Grenklakail Empire and Strevik'al Dominion?" she guessed.

Hrekkel shook his head. "No, although they are pushing hard at us. Unless they decide to go full nova-spark on us, we will eventually either figure out a way to beat them or they will simply absorb us. Our fight is not one of genocide, but of dominance."

"Then what?" Strechen asked.

"We do not know," Ee'eerlee'u stated. "Before we left, the Dra.Falten Empire has lost sixteen worlds out of the thousand we possess. Not enough to gain attention of anyone who does not track the Empire closely. All of them are on the Empire's borders."

"And the Grenklakail Empire and Strevik'al Dominion have both lost worlds to this force," Hrekkel said. "It's new, within the last year, but they are making rapid gains, taking out worlds toward the galactic spur gulf, anti-spinward."

Tawtchee frowned. "We don't know who they are?"

Hrekkel shook his head. "The Empress believes it is a trick by either the Grenklakail Empire or the Strevik'al Dominion and we will soon discover that."

"But the Emperor does not?" Tawtchee asked.

Hrekkel shook his head. "No. The Emperor believes it is something worse. Intelligence shows that everyone whose territory is toward the space between the arms is losing territory," he tapped the table. "Which makes our mission all the more vital."

Tawtchee shrugged. "All right. Why doesn't concern me. What concerns me is who we have to deal with next. What do we know about them?"

Hrekkel tapped the hologram, bringing up a symbol. It was an upward arrow, over a shield. Nothing else, nothing elaborate.

"The Sancti Ordo Spiritus Tyr."