Dead Star Dockyards

Barking, ear-piercing and panicked, was what Donovan regained consciousness to.

"ARC - status report!" He didn't even grumble or groan.

He was bleeding from his nose, and his ears were still ringing. A lack of physical pain and relative freedom of motion suggested that the worst case scenario, violent impact with the nearby metal paneling, had not come to pass. The screaming headache and urge to vomit led him to believe he might have been subjected to a concussion, though he could not rule out the possibility his guts were thoroughly rocked by whatever the hell it was that hit him.

In either case, he was mighty worried about the relatively light padding about the edges of the headrest. Beneath the thin layer of fabric and foam was a frame made of an extremely sturdy titanium alloy, certainly harder than the bone his skull was made of.

However the regret of not wearing a helmet was only momentary. Having performed a rapid assessment of his own body and determined there was nothing life threatening, at least on the surface, his attention shifted to the condition of the Noah.

He could tell from the gentle resistance on his butt and back that the artificial gravity was still operable, but the numerous flashing indicators on the panels indicated that just about everything else was damaged to some degree. ARC, focusing its processing power and momentarily limited energy on more pressing matters gave its report in the form of text.

The vast majority of the sensors indicated that they are either inoperable or in dire need of recalibration. Light spectrum receivers were left relatively unscathed.

The communications array isn't responding to the status request, extensive damage expected though not confirmed.

Only basic life support systems are operating optimally, particle scrubbers and waste reclaimers are offline. Several subsystems expected to be malfunctioning

My computer and data cores are unharmed.

All weapon systems are fully functional.

Hull integrity appears to be unaffected.

Reactor Core is experiencing slight destabilization and efficiency loss, no significant danger of breech.

Long and medium range jump functions have been made impossible due to extreme vibration recalibration. Short Range jumps should be possible given time.

Heat sink is still properly insulated, Heat Dump system unaffected.

Split shield has experienced a spike in power draw, effects of impact on functionality are unknown.

Mobility systems unaffected.

Are you OK?

It was comforting to know that there was someone out there who was actively looking out for his wellbeing, even if that someone happened to be a computer unable to properly experience pain.

"Yeah, I should be, slight headache and ringing ears. Don't mind the blood, not bad enough to warrant attention right now."

I will perform a scan once relevant systems have been repaired. Which should I prioritize?

Don's response was immediate. He had undergone training for a similar scenario, albeit this was in charge of a ship with a crew instead of a sapient AI, though they served the same purpose.

"Sensors take priority, but only if they are a one minute fix. After that focus on the reactor, then medical scan equipment. Standard priority from there. What happened?"

The hull was subjected to a large impact force of unknown origin seven minutes ago while we were in transit. Lack of hull deformation or record of nearby objects suggests it was not a matter based strike. I suspect Split may be the culprit but I cannot be certain.

Don couldn't help but curse at this. This could have been an attack and he would be none the wiser.

"We are headed home. I can't say for sure whether or not this was an attack and chances are I'm concussed. Show me the Sun vector." A purple arrow appeared, pointing towards the sun. Don whipped the Noah around and pushed the acceleration to a level that was only barely uncomfortable.

He was fed up with this living hell of a mission. Central would have to live with what little information he had gathered.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Five minutes to drop Captain." The stout man gave his commanding officer the proper warning before they entered combat.

"Thank you." The captain's complexion, while no means healthy, was far better than before. Evidently, he had gotten the requisite amount of food and rest necessary for day to day life. He turned to his bridge crew, preparing to remind them of their objectives and priorities in the coming fight.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is it. We have been on this fruitless voyage for what feels like an eternity by now, and finally its time to do something. As I'm sure you are aware at this point, through either my warnings or those of our diviners, this fight is sure to be more difficult than any other we have faced in the past. The star will be at the limit of what is possible. Even I have not run across such a phenomena before."

He took note of a few nervous gulps amongst the crew, cadets in training.

"Under normal circumstances, we would prioritize offence. That is simply not an option this time around. If we do not focus on defense, we will find ourselves unable to ward off the attacks that are sure to find their way towards us. We need to wait for the star to wear itself out. The opportunity will present itself eventually.

At the same time, we have another objective. We need to secure the life raft of the native civilization. I have received assurances that it will be in the general area of our drop point, however there is no saying how close it will be. We were unable to precisely coordinate more than in relation to the nearest large planets. The fact that this point is beyond the orbit of their furthest major planet only made this harder."

The helmsman, a younger member of the veteran crew but in no way less talented raised his hand. "I have a question sir. How far will I have to move the Oberlux in order to secure it?"

"Focus your attention on evading the incoming attacks. I have seen, albeit through the eyes of another, what that little ship is capable of. It would not be an overstatement to say that it is their grandest achievement. I was told it has become that much more capable in the hands of its pilot. It will be able to fend for itself.

You need to work towards assuring the Oberlux stays aloft. A strike that has missed is a strike that has done no damage. Just do your best to dodge, I cannot ask more from you."

The young man saluted and returned to his post, visibly invigorated to perform his duty perfectly.

Content with this the Captain turned to those in charge of the weapons and shields.

"When we engage in combat, we will start with the usual barrage of attacks. We need to deal damage while we can, so it is imperative that this barrage hits hard, but we also need to make our presence known to the Life Raft. Once the star begins to properly return our attacks, we will focus every bit of energy we have on defense, leaving the spare energy to recharge only our heaviest weapons."

A wave of salutes, nods, and audible confirmations returned his orders in the affirmative.

Content with these arrangements, or at least as close to content as he could reasonably wish for, he then took his seat, the signal that he had now fully assumed command.

"With that, I have nothing left to say. To battle stations."

- - - - -

"You can turn off the vector now ARC. We are on the right trajectory and I have no plans to shift it."

'The vector isn't active anymore.'

"Bullshit. I clearly see it on my-" he rotated the ship sharply and accelerated a bit to prove ARC wrong, "-screen? ARC, are the visible spectrum receivers functioning properly?"

That purple 'vector' did not respond to a trajectory change. It didn't track on the center of the screen when he rotated to the left. It was still very clearly in the direction of the sun.

The direction of the sun.

"ARC, are you receiving 'purple' as a color for the sun at the moment?"

'I am. None of the receiver data seems to match the known characteristics of the sun either.'

"Zoom me in on it and keep an eye on it. I want to know what is going on in real time. I can deal with repairs to the life support systems taking a while longer."

ARC responded with a green check.

Don looked on at the now purple sun taking up almost the entirety of the center of his screen. Just as ARC had said, none of the reading matched. Heat, of all things, wasn't even a hundredth of what it should have been giving off. Conversely, ultraviolet was almost 100 times as strong as before, a phenomena that didn't make a lick of sense given his limited understanding of how stars of all things functioned.

What the hell was going on?

He forced himself to eat a chunk of the Meth Chocolate, it wouldn't do to fall asleep in the middle of a clear emergency. He took this time to feed Mercedes as well, who was now quietly and fearfully curled up in the corner between the bed and the wall.

Chugging some water to wash down the oppressively bitter stimulant, he resumed his previous posture in his seat to two realizations, both equally disturbing.

The first was that although he could see the sun, albeit in a different color, but he could not see any planets or stars. Besides the glowing ball of purple there were no other celestial objects.

The second realization was that that 'ball' of purple he thought was his sun was no longer spherical. In the two minutes he had been up from his seat, distinct lumps had formed. The outline was blurry owing to the extent of the zoom, but as he continued to watch it took a more solid form.

The outline looked very similar to the five pointed star that a child might draw to represent stars in the night sky, so similar in fact that the points were not the same length. Some went further out an others had shallower angles that made them stop short.

"ARC, stop repairs of functions that are not of immediate importance. Reserve as much energy as possible for movement and start scanning for threats."

Alarm bells were blaring nonstop in his head. A fear gripped him, primal in nature, and would not let go. His instincts were telling him to prepare for a fight, but they wouldn't tell him what that fight was going to be against.

His life was at stake but he couldn't tell why. He suspected that the sun was going to tell him soon.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Ten seconds to drop!"

"All hands, this is it!"

"Five!"

"All weapons ready!"

"Three! Two! One! DROP!" The Oberlux shook violently as it came to a complete stop.

Those standing on the deck looked out in awe of the beauty of the sight they were beholding. A star in the most beautiful shade of purple they had ever seen. Those who were seeing such a phenomenon for the first time, and some who had never seen one like this, were star-struck.

"I had held hope that we would get here before it completed forming itself, but it would seem I was once again too naïve. All weapons, open fire before it strikes!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Don and ARC's observation of the sun's new geometry was interrupted by a truly colossal burst of light to their left.

"What the fuck was that!" Don was partially blinded by the flash, not helped in the slightest by his likely concussion, so he couldn't properly see what it was that had appeared.

However ARC did not get to respond before flashes, sparks, beams, and orbs of light ranging in color from red to green began to appear from that region and head straight towards this unrecognizable star.

"What the hell is going on ARC! Answer me!"

ARC did not respond.

As Donovan's vision returned, he bore witness to the same light show that ARC was stunned by. Much the same as ARC, Don was unable to make sense of it. It simply didn't mesh with their understanding of physics.

A massive 'thing', with measurements registering its volume on par with the moon was launching brightly colored pulses of light at a spiky purple star.

This 'thing' looked more akin to a tree stripped of leaves or a collection of frayed suspension cables than anything resembling a ship.

What felt like an hour of watching this spectacle passed, with both observers gaining nothing in the way of context, when the sun moved.

Indeed, that star which since its conception had remained relatively stationary as it provided the energy requisite for life to flourish, made a visible, drastic, and unprompted movement.

And then it exploded. Purple, blue, and green patches of light, similar in speed and shape to those spawned by the barren tree were launched by the Sun. The difference of the volume between the two was one that was, simply put, incomparable.

The difference in accuracy was equally apparent.

Where the tree's attacks formed a solid line, the Sun's went literally everywhere. Don could see streaks of light going in directions not even remotely close to it, some even appeared to be going the opposite direction.

Some were headed his direction.

"We gotta get out of here. Give me some trajectory overlays for those incoming beams."

"Donovan, please calm down. We have about three minutes before we need to take evasive measures. But before that I have an extremely important question to ask you."

"Not now ARC! We need to move!"

"It is vital to determine what our next course of action is, Donovan. I beg you, a simple yes or no will suffice."

"Then spit it out already! We are running out of time."

"Very well then Donovan.

 

 

Do you trust me?"

"What do you mean 'do I trust you'? Of course I do!" Time seemed to stand still for him. He felt like he was missing something, or was not being told something.

"Would you be able to trust me unconditionally? Even if that meant the life that you have lived was fabricated? Even if your personality, hobbies, interests, tastes, ambitions, and habits were carefully crafted? Even if your raison d'etre is not one you have been told, nor one you ever had any hope of realizing? Even if it meant that you would suffer endless mental torment? Even if it meant that you would have to work, likely fruitlessly, for the rest of your life? Even if it meant that you had been betrayed by almost everyone you have ever met up to this point? Even if it meant that I betrayed you?"

"What are you talking about ARC? What do you mean?"

"If trusting me means that all of this is reality, would you still be able to trust me? If you cannot, then I suggest you take your hands from the controls and resign yourself to death, you will suffer less that way. Even if it means that I was ultimately a failure, I will not force you to live on in suffering and torment.

So I must ask you Donovan.

Do you trust me? Not my analysis, not the computations, but the individual.

Do you trust me?"

Donovan was confused. This line of questioning was out of nowhere, and seemed to be unwarranted. ARC sounded afraid to Donovan, did it think it was going to die? Was it afraid of admitting there was nothing it could do?

Donovan's words left his mouth without him having to think about them.

"Unconditionally."

Ever since their conversation over the concept of death, Donovan had separated the 'Adaptive Reconnaissance and Combat System' from ARC. He had learned to second guess the calculations the computer receives as it may have made an error. He had also learned that ARC is young and inexperienced, much like himself, but that it will always tell him exactly what it felt on a subject.

"I have no reason to not trust you."

"Thank you, Don."

For the first time, Don heard relief in the artificial voice.

"I will get to work projecting danger lines. Begin heading towards the Oberlux, that massive ship that appears to be something out of fantasy. I will tell you what I can along the way, but any and all further knowledge of this subject was password locked to avoid divulging it to you prematurely. It is likely that someone who knows the password is onboard. Move quickly, the Sun will get more accurate the longer it continues letting off those beams."

"Copy that, but it isn't shooting at that tree of a ship?"

"Incorrect. It detects and attacks life in general. I am unaware of the mechanisms behind this method of detection, especially determining if we have been detected, but you should operate under the assumption that our location is a known factor in its machinations."

Slowly but surely, red lines indicating the paths that these masses of light were traveling started to light up his screen. A red number denoted their time in seconds to the light reaching a certain point, while a green number indicated the Noah's time taken to pass that region.

This was almost identical to how the asteroid trajectory model worked, but these light blobs moved way faster. Easier to visualize a no fly zone that was stationary than one that moves, and already he was having to weave through them.

The distance between them may have been in the thousands of meters, but with radii ranging from ten to one hundred meters and close to reaching a velocity of a kilometer a second, the amount of times Don came close to or passed through one of these beam paths added up quickly.

The fastest that they could possible arrive, that being full tilt in a straight line, was 2 hours. At the rate Don was having to dodge and weave, the real time was closer to four.

If the concentration were to grow as ARC had told him, he was in for one hell of long ride.

"Is there any way we can tell the Oberlux to get closer to us?"

"No. Communications are impossible."

"Shit." An orb of light whizzed by only a few meters away. "Any way we could, like, flash them? Draw their attention?"

"We have the running lights."

"Fuck it. Turn em on. Can't hurt."

The 'running lights' were really just the Cutter lasers set to shine red light. They were dim, only barely able to reach that spectrum without damaging the lenses, but they were good enough should it ever have to perform an in atmosphere ground landing.

Hopefully flashing them would be enough to attract their attention against the black background. Having a background of bright blues and deep purples wouldn't hurt either.

The only problem with those beams is that they were in front of the Noah just as often as they were behind. This problem being separate from the one of them actively trying to kill him.

Don also figured that they would eventually have a rough idea where he is when the Sun starts getting more accurate as well. This was also Don trying desperately to try to find a positive in the sea of negatives he could feel he was drowning in.

Donovan was not afraid though.

He held absolute trust that ARC would do its utmost to assure he made it out alive, and ARC trusted Donovan to act on the information it gave him.