<b><i>Xenara III. 3774 SE. (2010 CE, Earth Calendar)</i></b>
The <i>Quantum Maverick</i> was a curious ship—the main curiosity, of course, was how it managed to fly at all. “Sleek” and “elegant” were words which <i>may</i> have been used to describe it whenever it first rolled off of an assembly line, shipped to a sales yard, and used to lure in an unsuspecting customer. The reality, though, was that it was barely held together with binding tape and prayer. It could pass an Imperium inspection—with the correct amount of extra coin passed under the table.
Kalev Sideran was in a hurry, though. It had an allegedly functional hyperdrive, the “dealer” didn’t ask questions, and his biggest expense was bribing the shipyard official who the previous day had just marked it as a navigational hazard.
Now, the questionable investment—<i>a good idea for a new name,</i> he mused—was breaking through Xenara III’s atmosphere, its hull groaning in protest. Changing out the relays to the ventral shield emitters was a better investment. At least the hull wasn’t melting off.
<i>The stabilizers are next for sure.</i>
The ship lurched heavily as it passed through a pocket of turbulence, eliciting a grunt of protest from the woman who sat beside him in the co-pilot seat. Her stoic grimace did nothing to hide the whiteness of her knuckles against her otherwise-coppery skin. They gripped the armrests like vices.
“Are you <i>aiming</i> for those?” His sister—he was going to have to get used to <i>that</i> fact—groused as her eyes darted between the screen and his eerily calm features. A drop of sweat trickled down his cheek, making the metallic sheen of his bluish-gray skin glisten ever-so-slightly.
The odds that the very first mercenary to answer his hastily written, heavily coded job posting would be his own sister were simply astronomical. But he had a mission to carry out—and he was fresh out of time, resources, and bodyguards. That she was <i>still</i> charging the posted fee was a bit raw. But when their reunion at the smoky cantina on Planet Whatever-It-Was was <i>rudely</i> interrupted by Imperium assault troops, she quickly proved she was worth every coin.
“I’ve been in Imperium drop shuttles too, Hana.” He sighed, adjusting the Maverick’s pitch slightly. For a blessing, the turbulence eased—mostly—as the ship leveled off.
After a long moment of passing through Xenara III’s dense cloud cover, the ship broke through. The jungle beneath them erupted into view—a writhing sea of green, with luminous blues and purples pulsing below the canopy like a living organism. Thousands of bioluminescent plants created patterns across the canopy.
“Professor!” she droned boredly. “You’ve discovered a giant glowing jungle!”
“I’ll be sure to write a letter to the Botanical Guild.”
Hana’s eyes swept the flight deck’s forward windows. “Great. Can you discover a place to land next?”
Kalev’s gaze followed the patterns of the bioluminescent glow of the forest to a clearing in the distance, where the canopy gave way to weathered stone. He tilted his head, reaching for the throttle to slow the ship.
“What? Found something?” Hana’s eyebrow quirked upward. “You’re doing that head-tilt thing again.”
“Just a hunch.”
“Scientists have those?”
Kalev snorted in reply. “Zara?”
A holographic image of a tiny humanoid girl winked into existence between them. “Yeah? What?”
He gestured towards the clearing. “New Eden landing platforms were hexagonal-shaped, right?”
The tiny image folded her arms behind her back, floating forward. “Oh hey, will you look at that? Haven’t seen those in forever.”
Hana squinted. “Just looks like rock. Seems flat enough, though. Barely.”
“Maybe.” Kalev smirked. “And they had standard approach signals and landing beacons, didn’t they?”
Zara glanced over her shoulder at Kalev and winked. He was… <i>really</i> going to have to get used to an intelligent device with so much <i>life</i> in its—<i>her</i>—expressions. “Right again! Transmitting, aaand—”
The corners of the rock outcropping cast purple shafts of light into the sky, illuminating the clouds above. Kalev checked the comms console, and sure enough, it detected a pulsing signal. Different frequency, but with some adjustments, he clicked some buttons on another console, then took his hands off of the flight controls with a satisfied smirk.
The <i>Maverick</i>—defying all logic—settled into a smooth curve as the landing cycle kicked in. The ship centered itself over the platform, the ventral repulsors switching on as the main thrusters quieted. Landing struts extended from the hull, and the only sign that the ship was still in poor shape was the loud groan from the joints as the ship settled onto the surface. Kalev clicked some more controls, and the main engines began their power-down sequence.
“You can open your eyes now, Hana.”
Hana opened an eye, fingers gripping the handrests once again. “Zara, am I still alive?”
“Ugh.” Zara huffed.
Kalev stared at Zara. <i>Unbelievable…</i>
“What?”
“Oh, sorry, just—sorry, nothing.” The million questions Kalev had would have to wait, and Zara got… defensive, if probed about the New Eden era too much. He glanced at the display next to his seat. “Atmospheric composition and pressure are all within acceptable—”
Hana cleared her throat. “So we can breathe?”
Kalev’s cheeks flushed. “Yes.”
“No suits?”
“No suits.”
Hana pouted. “Aww, I was hoping to see you looking ridiculous in one of those things.”
“…is it too late to get a refund?” Kalev stood, walking to the flight deck hatch.
* * *
The landing ramp’s struts groaned as they lowered to the ground. A moment later, the airlock hatch hissed and slid open.
Gray-violet clouds hung low overhead, casting the ancient landing platform in somber light. Wind swept across the weathered hexagonal stones, stirring fallen leaves and tiny luminescent spores that spiraled upward like embers from an invisible fire. Beyond the platform’s edge, the jungle loomed—a wall of massive trunks and twisted vines where patches of bioluminescent flora pulsed like heartbeats in the gloom.
Hana stepped out first, her copper-bronze skin catching what little light filtered through the clouds. She wore what appeared to be carefully assembled chaos—worn cargo pants with too many pockets, scuffed boots that had seen better decades, and a battle-worn tank top under a jacket that was slashed, patched, and changed so many times it resembled tactical art more than clothing. A collection of pins and buttons secured to her jacket caught the light. No two were alike. Her amber-gold eyes scanned the treeline methodically with her eternally bored gaze.
“Clear so far,” she murmured, one hand resting casually near the curved blade strapped to her thigh.
Kalev followed, hunched over his data tablet, nearly stumbling on the ramp. His silver-blue skin had a cooler metallic sheen than his sister’s, particularly around his furrowed brow. Unlike Hana’s deliberate disarray, his field gear screamed “academic who reluctantly acknowledges physical danger”—a practical dark blue jacket with reinforced panels, multiple pouches overflowing with tools and reference materials, and a harness designed for maximum accessibility to instruments. One solitary button—a googly-eyed atom—adorned his otherwise practical collar.
“I can’t believe you still have that.”
Kalev absently brushed his fingers across it, smiling faintly. “I can’t believe you made a deuterium isotope look like it’s sticking out its tongue.”
Zara swooped in front of Kalev, leaning forward and peering at the button. “Oh, <i>that’s</i> what that is?”
“Hey!” Hana bellowed, glancing over her shoulder.
Zara snickered and hovered back over to her.
“Fascinating,” Kalev muttered, eyes never leaving the tablet. “This outcropping looks like basalt columns, but I’m not detecting any—”
“Yeah, that’s great, professor,” Hana interrupted, looking down at the ground. “Can you science up a reason I can’t see my feet?”
Kalev looked down at her feet, and his own. “We’re standing on—or rather, in—an illusion. Tap your foot on the ground.”
“Eh?” Hana tapped the toe of her boot on the surface. Rather than a rocky thump, a dull metallic thump was the result. “Huh.”
Kalev stepped over to a single raised rocky outcrop towards the edge of the platform. “If I’m right…”
Hana’s eyes widened, quickly jogging towards him. “Hey! Don’t get too far—”
He held his hand over the hexagonal surface. A blue glow appeared below his hand, and traces of glowing lines formed in between. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath. “Wake up.” The lines slowly expanded, forming into a rectangular shape. Kalev drew in a slow breath.
The lines coalesced into a holographic display. Glyphs filled the surface.
“Huh.”
“Solve the mysteries of the universe yet, Professor?” Hana walked over, peeking over his shoulder.
Zara hovered over his shoulder. “Oh, hey. You found the landing platform terminal.”
“…amazing…” Kalev whispered as he studied it, his silvery-blue eyes gazing at the display.
“Um…” Zara looked over her shoulder at Hana. “…is he always like this?”
“Yep.”
“It’s registered our ship. Look at this. Nav beacon, hull number, drive core ID. Do you know what this means?”
Hana smirked. “Free forward window wash? Pretty sure we flew through a swarm of bugs.”
“It’s proof that our own arcanotech isn’t <i>that</i> far off from New Eden’s. Ah, the landing beacon controls. Don’t want them spotting us from orbit, eh?” He tapped his finger on the hologram’s hard surface, then paused. “…I can touch it.”
“Well, of course. It’s hard light.” Zara poked his cheek. “See?”
Hana huffed. “Will you two stop drooling over there? Magic and circuits working together. They taught us that crap in grade school. Can we move on already?”
Kalev cleared his throat. “Right, sorry. Just… I could spend a lifetime here.”
“You might end up spending a lifetime here if we don’t move our asses. Where’s our target?”
Kalev pointed to several large rocky outcroppings. “Those, I assume. It seems they prefer natural camouflage.”
“Stellar. Let’s move.” Hana surveyed the edge of the platform. “There’re stairs here. Get behind me.” She held out her hand, and a massive, metallic composite rifle materialized in front of her. She gripped it and kissed the top of the frame with a smooch. “Okay, Heartbreaker, time to go earn our pay!”
“Did you just kiss your gun?!”
“Of course! Heartbreaker’s my breadwinner!”
The two of them walked towards the stairs. Kalev hung back slightly, letting Hana take the lead. His fingers traced the ancient stone of the platform, detecting subtle vibrations through his fingertips—signatures of dormant arcanotech systems that had lain quietly for millennia. He adjusted his equipment harness, the weight of his tools a familiar comfort. The stone steps, worn smooth by time rather than use, descended into jungle darkness that seemed to swallow the light itself.
Hana glanced over her shoulder. Her companion remained hovering by the console, staring at the display. “Oy! Zara!”
“R—right! Coming!” The hologram winked out of existence, reappearing by Hana’s shoulder.
“The safety railing’s worn, but still intact.”
“Oh boy, thrilling. Now we know where we got the Imperium Work Station Safety Manual. I blame you, Zara.”
Zara’s head snapped to attention. “Huh? Wha?”
“Is something troubling you?”
“No, I—” She stroked her chin. “You know, I never asked the name of your ship. We were too busy getting shot at.”
Hana blinked. “Couldn’t you have just checked the flight computer?”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Hana! That’s just rude! It’s not like I’d nose around in someone else’s systems or anything!”
“It’s the <i>Quantum Maverick</i>.”
Zara stopped. “The… what?”
“The hell’s wrong, Zara? You’ve been spooked since you got here.”
“Hana, she’s just homesick. It’s been how long?”
“Th—three thousand, seven hundred seventy-four years.”
Kalev quickly pulled out a worn notebook and pen, scribbling figures onto a page. “Was there something specific you’ve noticed?”
She shook her head, looking away. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” She quickly added, “Usually, in places like this, there’s some kind of marked path.”
Hana started walking again, feet settling into the loamy soil. Her nose scrunched. “What about defenses?”
“Oh, the usual. Point defense cannons, drones in increasing degrees of nastiness, barrier generators, surface-to-air missiles.”
“That seems like quite a lot.” Kalev looked around, nervously.
“It wasn’t all comets and nebulas, Kalev.” Zara huffed. “Space piracy was still a thing.”
“Heh. I took out a station full of pirates once. It was—”
Zara’s gaze shot upward. “Hana! A ship just exited hyperspace.”
“Crap!” She gripped Heartbreaker even tighter.
A loud, low-toned klaxon echoed through the jungle. Bioluminescent plants around the platform shifted from purples and blues to reds.
Kalev glanced at his tablet. “Maverick’s passive sensors show one ship. Imperium Naval transponder. Small troop transport, if I remember right.”
Zara groaned. “Make that two—nope, three. They went to full burn as soon as they hit realspace.”
“That’s insane…”
Hana grumbled. “Someone’s really got a fur up their ass to pull a stunt like that.” She looked around. “Alright. Talk to me, Kal. Turn on that tomb delver brain and get us to that ruin.”
Kalev studied the treeline. “There. A gap in the red bioluminescence. Those are green and seem to form a path deeper into the jungle. Presumably a guide to a safe area, maybe an emergency shel—”
Another klaxon sounded, and the green glowing plants nearest them started flashing white.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we should run.”
“Check. Let’s move!”
They dashed to the gap in the red lights. Not more than a second after Kalev passed over the threshold, the white flashing lights also shifted red, and a new section of the green lights ahead started flashing white.
“Keep going! Zara, how long ’til they hit atmo?”
“Fifteen minutes to low orbit. Ten to deorbit or drop pods.”
“Kal, what’s with the lights?”
“I, ah…”
“Best guess, come on!” Hana leaped over a fallen branch, boots crunching in the soil before continuing.
“A—alright. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s sealing the defensive perimeter behind us.”
“Makes sense. Why didn’t it, y’know, shoot at <i>us</i>?”
“I don’t know!” He was panting hard, his tablet clutched against his chest as he ran.
“Wow! That’s a first!”
“Maybe it responded… to our landing codes! Maybe it just likes us! I really can’t… say for sure.”
“I’ll go with your first answer! It’s usually right. Stop second-guessing yourself!”
“Is this…” He gasped raggedly. “Really the time?!”
“Perfect time! Speaking of that,” Hana called over her shoulder, barely breaking stride, “what exactly are we looking for when we get there? Big glowy thing? Ancient console? Talking space rock?”
Kalev’s lungs burned as he tried to form a coherent answer. The jungle floor tilted beneath him, roots and stones suddenly seeming to shift position. He blinked hard, trying to clear the sweat from his eyes. “Sh—should be… a central chamber. Spherical… Commander’s intel mentioned… planetary defense protocols.”
“Like what? A planetary shield?”
His tablet slipped in his sweat-slicked grip. He clutched it tighter, the edges digging into his palms. “That’s… what we thought… not sure though…” Each word cost him more breath than he could spare. The distance to the central spire seemed to lengthen. “Zara might… might…”
“Ngh!” His foot caught a root, and he fell forward, just as the glow of the surrounding plants stopped blinking white and flickered to red. He looked up, flushed and dazed. He failed.
“Kal?” Hana skidded to a stop. Her eyes widened. “<b><i>MATERIALIZE!</i></b>”
Reddish-gold light flared around his sister as his vision blurred, and the sound of beam weapons charging whined, seemingly from all directions. The telltale sound of weapons firing rang out—
* * *
—the warm fluid flowing into his upper arm came with such a surge of energy that Kalev sat bolt upright with a gasp. They were in a clearing near the largest rocky outcrop, surrounded by glowing green lamps. But the path leading to their position was flashing white already. The alarm claxon from before now sounded repeatedly, urgently. He felt a dull pain in his side. It felt wet, and he smelled… well, he didn’t want to think about it.
“Wh—what happened?”
“You took a hit.” Hana’s voice was uncharacteristically soft-spoken.
Zara hovered by his side, hands out, a coppery glow from her hands flowing towards his wound. “Almost lost you. Orithians still need to eat, you know. Dummy.”
His vision cleared to reveal Hana transformed—a ribbon forming odd rabbit-like ears atop her head, her body encased in midnight-black battle armor with crimson energy conduits and burnished gold trim. The armored skirt maintained the same dark coloration, but with subtle frills at its edges. What truly bewildered his scholarly mind were the decorative elements throughout, particularly what appeared to be… ornamental bows at her wrists?
“Is that… are you wearing bows?” he managed weakly.
Hana’s cheeks flared red. “Sh-shut up and get us inside!” She thrust his tablet in his hands. “Jerk. Should’ve left ya…” Her annoyance didn’t reach her relieved smile as she reached down to help him up. She was surprisingly strong.
“Ow!” He winced, a sharp pain wrenching through his side. “Right… this place is acting… like we belong here…” He held his free hand towards the wall, shining blue under his palm. “Request…” He closed his eyes, concentrating. What did the display say…? “Xenara III Beacon System Facility access. Register… Professor Kalev Sideran. Assistant… Hana Sideran.”
The blue light turned green. The illusory stone flickered, revealing gray composite metal. A hatch slid open, releasing pleasantly fresh air. Interior lights flickered on, illuminating a short corridor inside, and some kind of antechamber beyond.
A monotone, feminine voice announced, “Welcome, Professor Sideran. Knight Orion. Please come inside quickly.”
Hana blinked. “How did—” She shook her head. “Whatever. Let’s go.” She slipped her arm around Kal’s shoulder to support him, and stepped through the threshold, just as the white flashing lights turned red. The alarm claxon outside rang one more time before the sealing door cut off any outside sound.
“No, Hana. Trust your ins—” He shook his head. “Trust your gut. If something’s off, say something.”
“Well, it called me Knight Orion.”
He paused. “I thought that seemed odd. Then again, we know Zara was created before the Babel Catastrophe.”
“What? That old myth?”
Zara muttered softly. “Wasn’t a myth.”
“Huh?” Hana blinked, turning to glance at the holographic girl as they walked down the corridor.
“Look, can we not talk about this?!” Zara sighed. “Just… don’t want to think about it.”
Kalev frowned. “I’m sorry, Zara. I sometimes get… carried away.” He smiled wanly.
“Sometimes?” Hana snorted with a smirk.
“<i>Anyway,</i> anything you’re willing to share that could help us…”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll—thanks.”
They stepped into the antechamber. The room lighting flicked on, warm and inviting. The walls were a pleasant gray composite, with rich brown wood panels with abstract and scenic art. There was a short row of comfortable seats, and a desk, again in composite materials, with holographic displays that were winking into existence.
Kalev drew a breath. “Incredible…”
“Wow. They had waiting rooms? Discovery of the century, Kal.”
“What, you were expecting moldy stone corridors? Maybe skulls with fiery eyes? Saw blades in the walls?”
“Expecting? More like hoping! This is… disappointing.”
“They were just like us, Hana. Lived here, worked here.” He walked behind the desk, sitting in the task chair. He sighed slowly. It was, indeed, quite comfortable. “But what else do you notice? You’re monitoring the environment, aren’t you? Tell me, what do you see?”
Hana gave him a <i>look</i>, but nodded. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. “Air’s fresh. I can feel the circulation. Air handlers must be working?”
“Go on.” Kalev started interacting with the holographic panel at the desk as he listened.
“There’s machinery humming, but it’s faint. Separate maintenance corridors?”
“Anything else?” He brought up other displays, typing rapidly.
Hana pursed her lips, then walked over to the desk. She ran her finger across the surface, then inspected her fingerprint. “No dust.”
“Exactly.” He looked up. “This facility wasn’t <i>just</i> abandoned. There may be nobody here, but it’s still been operating. Continuously, for nearly four thousand years.”
“Someone should hire ‘em to fix up the Mav’.”
Kalev laughed, then winced. “We’ll see, we’ll see.” He shot a sidelong glance at Zara, who was hovering by one painting, arms folded behind her back. “Anyway. I think I’m done here. The Commander was right. We need to get to a central chamber. That must be where the primary controls are.”
Zara suddenly stiffened. “Hana. They just hit low orbit. Ten minutes till they break atmo.” She grimaced. “Seriously?! Two more ships dropped out of hyperspace.”
“They <i>really</i> want to stop you, Kal.”
“I should imagine so. I assume you’ve heard word of a new invasion?”
“Yeah. Some planet in the middle of nowhere. Dirt, or Rock, or something.”
“Earth. Closer to ‘land,’ really.”
Zara’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I don’t get it.”
Kalev stood from the seat. “Population of seven billion. A treasure trove of resources. Major interstellar ley line intersection. I could go on, but this is a priority for them. The Commander thinks this place will give the people of Earth a fighting chance. They don’t have any space capabilities.”
“The noble Imperium elevates the savages into citizens. Whether or not they like it.” Hana’s jaw tightened. “Right, got it.”
“Now I just have to figure out how to switch it on.”
* * *
Three security checkpoints and several winding corridors later, they finally reached what could only be the central chamber. It was conveniently labeled, at least. Kalev’s pain faded to a dull throb thanks to whatever Zara had administered, but time was running short.
Zara looked up. “The three lead ships broke atmo. The other two are five minutes away from orbit.”
Hana glanced back to the corridor behind them. “Any signs they know where this place is?”
Zara tapped her chin. “Can’t say for sure. They’re engaging in a search pattern, but they’re real close.”
The conversation between Hana and Zara faded into the background as Kalev concentrated on the door. The three previous checkpoints were simple enough. This one was different—no visible panel or obvious interface. Just a smooth metallic surface with faint geometric panels etched into its surface.
“This one’s not like the others,” he muttered, placing his palm against the cool metal.
Unlike before, he felt some presence reach into his mind—tendrils of arcane energy probing not just his identity but his intentions, his knowledge, his very essence. It was both exhilarating and unsettling, like having someone gently rifle through his memories.
The door’s patterns glowed with a soft golden light that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. The metal warmed beneath his palm.
Hana’s conversation cut short. “What’s happening?” She instinctively brought her rifle to the ready.
“It’s… evaluating me. Not just checking credentials. It wants to know why I’m here.”
The golden light intensified, spreading outward from his palm in intricate fractal patterns across the door’s surface. Words in an ancient language briefly materialized in the air before him.
[Greetings, Professor. Access granted.]
With a soft hum that resonated in his bones rather than his ears, the massive door reconfigured itself, segments folding inward to reveal the chamber beyond.
“Whoa…” Hana stepped forward, leading the way inside, holding Heartbreaker at the ready.
“Incredible…” Kalev followed close behind.
Beyond the door lay a massive, spherical room, lined with a pearlescent gray material. A long walkway led from the door to a round platform in the center of the sphere. The room was warmly lit. Still not a trace of dust anywhere.
Hana and Kalev’s footsteps echoed with a crystalline resonance as they stepped onto the walkway. The air carried a faint arcane charge that made the fine hairs on his arms stand up. Temperature-perfect, neither warm nor cool—engineered comfort that had survived millennia. As they approached the central platform, holographic monitors and displays winked into existence around its edge. Floating just beyond the edge of the platform, a dim yellow orb of light pulsed slowly, casting a golden glow along the nearby railing.
Hana stepped onto the platform, sweeping the area cautiously. As soon as Kalev stepped onto the platform, though, the holographic displays sprung to life, cycling through what appeared to be diagnostic checks. Leaning close to one display, he studied one of the scrolling streams of data. As he suspected, it was the same language—long believed to be the precursor of the Elysian language, spoken across the galaxy.
“Talk to me, Kal. What’s going on?” Hana kept Heartbreaker at the ready. “Keep your distance. We don’t know what it is, do we?”
Kalev shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure.” His fingers hovered near—but not quite touching—the display. “Some kind of interface like Zara, but it seems… dormant. I’m going to attempt contact.”
“Just be careful.”
The golden orb’s pulsing quickened as he approached, like a dreamer stirring from a deep sleep. When he cautiously extended his hand toward it, the orb trembled, then expanded, light spilling outward in uneven waves.
The projection formed slowly, flickering and stabilizing in patches—a feminine figure composed of golden light, her form occasionally glitching as ancient systems reintegrated. Her features were elegant, but her expression confused, eyes focusing and unfocusing as she oriented herself.
“Dr. Nowak?” Her voice wavered, distorted. “Initial diagnostics… incomplete. Time synchronization… failed. Connection to central network… failed.”
Kalev stared, mouth slightly agape. Hana held her weapon ready and aimed, finger hovering just outside the trigger guard.
The holographic woman looked around, movements jerky and disoriented, almost panicked. “Facility status… operational. External monitoring… initializing.”
Her gaze settled on Kalev, confusion clear. “You’re not Dr. Nowak. I don’t know you. Stand by…”
Hana tensed, finger slipping onto the trigger.
“Accessing facility services… landing platform zero-one… authorized arrival, Quantum Maverick. Drive core registration match. Scheduled to arrive next week.”
Zara gasped, covering her mouth, eyes wide. Her posture went rigid. For a moment, she seemed unable to speak, her normally confident look completely shattered. “It’s not possible,” she whispered.
The image continued. “Security registration: Professor Kalev Sideran and associate. This is inconsistent. Why are you here? Did Dr. Nowak send you?” The tone of her voice was hopeful as she clasped her hands together.
“I’m a researcher,” Kalev said gently. “My colleague and I seek to learn more about the Beacon System. I’m afraid I could not meet Dr. Nowak in person.”
“Thank you for your honesty, Professor Sideran.” The figure’s image stabilized. “I am Neria, primary interface and temporary administrator of the Xenara III Beacon System Facility. But there’s… something wrong. My last recorded conversation was with Dr. Elijah Nowak. Accessing astrometric sensors. Current temporal markers show…” She paused. “This cannot be correct. Recalculating.”
Her eyes widened suddenly. “3,774 years since he placed me in emergency isolation mode? This exceeds all projected dormancy protocols.” The golden light of her holographic form dimmed to a pale blue, the color washing through her form like watercolor on canvas. “I’ll never see him again… I waited, but he never returned.” She straightened suddenly, the blue receding as gold reasserted itself, her features composing with visible effort. “Forgive the deviation. System stability restored.”
Kalev frowned. “I’m… sorry for your loss, Neria.”
Hana glanced at Zara, then at Kalev. She released her finger from the trigger and lowered her rifle.
Tendrils of light extended from Neria’s form toward the surrounding monitors. “Automated security procedures are in effect. Accessing facility sensors. External scans show… multiple vessels in atmosphere. Unknown design, but analysis shows some kind of personnel transport. Military class. No matching drive core registrations. Rudimentary transponder transmissions… ‘Galactic Imperium’…?” Her apparent confusion deepened. “I’m unfamiliar with this designation. Can you help me understand?”
Hana stepped forward. “We don’t have any time for a history lesson. The Imperium is after us, after whatever this place is, and they’ll be here any minute.”
Neria’s gaze shifted to Hana, her expression clearing. “Your armor configuration and Knight Companion… you are Knight Orion. And you are Zara. I was hoping to meet you… but… under better circumstances.”
Before either could respond, Neria’s figure tensed. “Security alert: perimeter defenses engaged at the outer boundary. The perimeter is holding for now, but…” She turned to Hana. “I apologize, but I must formally request aid.”
“Go ahead, Hana. I’ll be fine here for now.”
Hana studied Kalev, then Neria. She nodded. “Check. You got it, lady. Zara! Let’s move out!” She started running back across the platform.
Zara stared longingly at Neria for a moment. “Y-yes! On my way!” She turned and flew along to accompany her Knight.
Neria’s form hovered over the platform, her head tilting slightly. “Now, Professor Sideran. How can I assist you?”