Chapter Text
MAGNIFICENT ASCENDING
By Loke
"If the Commonwealth's High Guard had a weakness, it was this: It's officers were too competent, too caring, and too brave."
~YIN MAN-WEI
"Rise and Fall of the Systems Commonwealth," CY 11942
The ship floated serenely in space, outrunners dancing attendance like bees near a hive.
Inside the ship, however, it looked more like a hive disturbed -- or attacked.
"Battle stations, battle stations. All crew man your battle stations."
The crew, human and otherwise, scurried to reach their assigned stations, passing around the Nietzschean First Officer Gaheris Rhade as he counted the time.
"3 minutes 5, 3 minutes 6, 3 minutes 7 -- move it, Dawson!"
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Elsewhere on the Systems Commonwealth heavy cruiser Heart of the Empire -- nicknamed "Buck" by his first commanding officer, a being very fond of puns -- Capt. Chris Larabee stepped into a ladder well and dropped, seemingly heedless of his unabated plummet. A small smile played about his lips as he activated his antigrav harness, slowing as the deck he wanted approached.
"I wish you wouldn't do that, pard," Buck grumbled through the comm. "What if your antigrav harness failed and I couldn't catch you in time?"
The smile turned into a smirk. "Aw, Buck," the captain teased, "you wouldn't let that happen, because then you would have to break in a new captain."
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A young black human named Thompson raced through the corridors to his station, slid into his seat next to his non-human crewmate and activated his controls.
"Starboard Point Station 5 manned and ready," he reported. Other stations were reporting in as well.
"Point Station 6 manned --"
"Point Station 7 --"
"Point Station 8 --"
Capt. Larabee caught up to his first officer as the last station reported in. "Report."
"Captain, all stations manned and ready," Rhade replied.
"Elasped time: 3 minutes, 27 seconds," Buck reported.
"Too slow!" the first officer shouted, to the captain's discomfort.
"Too loud," Larabee mildly rebuked Rhade, wincing.
They walked through the corridor together as Buck gave a detailed report of the slowest responders and reasons for their lack of speed. They made an interesting contrast, even in identical uniforms of red pseudoleather jackets and beige trousers. Though both men were tall and slender, Chris Larabee was fair skinned, blond, green eyed, and human. Gaheris Rhade, on the other hand, was olive skinned, brunet, brown eyed, and his jacket had been modified to accommodate the boney forearm spikes common to all Nietzscheans. As they approached one of the faulty stations, the two men ducked inside.
"Thompson, you forgot to activate your secondary battery -- Heart had to do it for you," Larabee said.
"Yes, sir," the crewman replied. "Sorry, sir, it won't happen again."
"It had better not," Rhade warned, catching his captain's signal. "All hands stand down!" he shouted, and the word was passed through the ship.
"All crew stand down from battle stations. All crew stand down. End of drill."
"Shipwide, Buck," Larabee requested, then continued, "All hands, this is the captain. Not bad, but I'm not doing any cartwheels. Team leaders, coordinate additional sessions. You know what to do. Let's get it under 3 minutes. Dismissed."
Thompson, still regretting his poor performance, muttered, "We suck." Larabee gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the captain and first officer left for the Command Center.
"Thompson. Not arming that battery compromised his entire sector," Rhade commented as the two men walked.
"He's a bright kid," Larabee said. "He'll learn."
"If he lives long enough."
"Ever the cynic. You know, I can't wait to hear your toast at my wedding." He mimed holding a champagne flute, " 'To Chris and Sara: I'm sure you'll have a long and happy life together -- unless you die,' " and sipped his imaginary drink.
"Nietzscheans don't believe in optimism. It inhibits survival."
"So does pessimism."
"I'm glad you're getting married," Rhade said to change the direction of the conversation. "You may not be properly engineered, but your genes are sound. You should reproduce."
"Thanks," Larabee replied. "I hope Sara agrees with you."
"I'm sure she does. As the great philosopher said, 'Man is, for woman, a means. The end is always a child."
"I take it back -- you're not a cynic; you're a romantic." The captain punctuated his words with an arm around his first officer's shoulders.
Buck's voice came over the comm. "Capt. Larabee, we're receiving a hail from a Systems Courier ship. It's indicating a Stellar Level emergency."
"On our way," Larabee said as the two men took off at a dead run for the Command Center.
A guard at the door reported "Captain on deck!" as they entered.
"As you were," the captain said. "Status?"
His pilot, a Than holding the rank of First Lieutenant and named Refractions of Dawn, reported, "The courier just transited to normal space. We're moving to intercept," in its tinny insectoid voice, its carapace softly gleaming as its large, compound eyes kept track of the multiple displays before it.
"We close enough for real-time?"
"Range is one lightsecond," Buck said, the tall, dark haired, blue eyed, mustached image which was his holographic and on-screen presence "standing" on the Command Center's upper level.
"Establish communications," Larabee ordered.
The courier's pilot appeared on one of Heart's screens. "This is the Systems Courier ship Alavative Missive. Do you copy?" the dark-skinned woman asked.
"Go ahead, Missive," Rhade replied.
"It's a rogue black hole -- Hephaistos System. They're trying to evacuate, but there aren't enough ships."
"Hephaistos has a population of nearly half a billion sentients," Buck said.
"You're the first ship I've contacted," the Missive's pilot continued.
"Plot a course for Hephaistos," Larabee told his pilot.
"Plotting course," Dawn replied.
At the same time, Rhade was continuing his conversation with the Missive. "Keep moving. Notify everyone you can."
"Understood," said Missive's pilot before breaking contact and moving on.
The Nietzschean turned to a junior officer. "Dispatch your own couriers. Tell them to spread the word." The woman sped off to obey.
"Shipwide," Larabee said, then continued, "This is the captain. All hands prepare to receive refugees. Rig the ship for maximum capacity."
"Ejecting cargo from bays 1 through 5," Buck said. Among the noises in the background was the sound of the bays one by one emptying of all contents, including atmosphere.
"Approaching transit point," reported Dawn.
"Brace for slipstream," Larabee ordered. "Dawn, transit to slipstream on my mark. 3, 2, 1 -- mark."
Reality shuddered and blurred as the Heart left normal space and entered slipstream -- an otherspace of vine-like ropiness containing "pathways" which required a living, intuitive mind to navigate. An AI like Buck was incapable of the sort of judgement needed for the task. Up, down, around, and through Dawn took the ship, as only the Commonwealth's best pilot could.
"Transiting back to normal space in 3, 2, and --" Reality once more shuddered and blurred as the Heart returned to normal space. "We're receiving over a thousand distress signals," Dawn reported, as the Heart's comm systems were flooded with voices requesting aid.
"We're reading a powerful singularity in the outer system," Buck said. "Mass: 3 X 10 to the 31st power kilos. Range: 1.2 lightminutes." As indeed they could see it on their screens -- a swirling maelstrom of plasma, pulling everything nearby into itself and down into the nothingness where even light couldn't escape.
"Hephaistos population is over 70% Nietzscheans," Rhade said. "If my people are running, the situation must be desperate."
"We'll take on as many people as we can. Deploy outrunners," Larabee ordered. "If there are any orbital habitats near the singularity, we'll try to evacuate them immediately."
"A contingent of ships is closing in on us, aft and port," Dawn said.
"Tell them we'll get to them as soon as we --" Larabee was interrupted as missiles impacted against the Heart's unprotected hull.
"They're firing on us!" Dawn reported unnecessarily.
"It's a trap," Buck said.
"Battle stations!" Larabee ordered.
Space was full of attacking vessels and missiles as the Heart readied to defend himself and his crew. What had been announced earlier in training now became words in deadly earnest.
"Battle stations, battle stations. All crew man your battle stations."
This time Thompson was right at his crewmate's heels as they arrived at Starboard Point Station 5.
"Tell me this is another drill," he said as he activated both primary and secondary batteries.
"It is no drill," his crewmate replied as a missile hit nearby, sending out a shower of sparks from an overloaded device behind him.
"I was afraid of that."
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In Command and Control, Buck announced, "All battle stations manned and ready."
"2 minutes, 41 seconds," Cmdr. Rhade reported the time in a slightly amazed voice.
"Deploy combat drones," Capt. Larabee ordered. As he watched the unmanned fighters enter the fray, he asked, "How many ships are we up against?"
"I'm detecting over 10,000 enemy vessels," Buck replied.
Larabee's jaw dropped open. "What?" he gasped, unable to believe his ears.
"500 are already within combat radius," Buck went on as if it were of no concern. "All of them appear to be of Nietzschean design."
Refractions of Dawn found its voice. "10,000 ships? It must have taken years to gather a force this big."
Rhade was ready with a suggestion. "Sir -- I recommend we deploy nova bombs."
Larabee nailed his second-in-command with one of his infamous glares. "This system is inhabited. I will not use strategic weapons, no matter how many ships we're up against." Deploying nova bombs would certainly get rid of the ships -- and the entire system. Nova bombs were designed to explode suns -- it was anybody's guess what setting one or more off this close to a black hole would do.
"As you wish," Rhade replied, backing down.
"More ships are closing," Dawn reported. They could both feel and hear the concussions of missiles and weapons' fire hitting the ship, and the voices of junior officers directing the defensive weaponry to return fire. Occasionally, equipment would short out or overload, sending cascades of sparks flying.
Larabee's mind was working at a furious pace. "Have to warn the rest of the High Guard," he murmured, half to himself.
Rhade's mind was right behind. "Do you think this is some kind of Nietzschean conspiracy? Against the Commonwealth?"
"They're Nietzschean; they're shooting at us," the captain pointed out.
The Nietzschean grimaced, knowing Larabee was going to like his next suggestion even less than his last one. "Given the circumstances, I should be confined to the brig, along with the other Nietzscheans in the crew."
"Are you telling me I can't trust you?" Larabee needed his first officer right where he was, especially now, and not cooling his heels in the brig.
"I'm saying you can't afford to take any chances."
Now it was the captain's turn to grimace -- Rhade was right, and they both knew it. "Sergeant -- take Cmdr. Rhade to the brig, and see to it that the other Nietzschean crewmembers are relieved of duty."
"Aye, Captain," the sergeant replied, detailing two men to escort the commander and passing along orders to take the rest of the Nietzscheans in the crew into custody.
Rhade gave no resistance to his escort as they left Command and Control.
Behind him, the battle continued, and the situation worsened for the Heart.
"We can't maneuver," Dawn said, "there are too many of them."
"We've lost over 70% of our drones," Buck reported.
"Can we transit to slipstream?" Larabee asked as they were hit hard by multiple missiles.
"Not here," Dawn replied. "The gravitational pull of the black hole is too strong. We're trapped." The Heart shuddered as it was hit hard again.
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One of the hits was directly to Starboard Point Station 5, destroying it and sending its crew flying. One crewman rose shakily to his feet.
"Thompson?" he called hopefully, getting his bearings and looking around. He found the young human lying nearby. "Thompson!" he repeated as he turned his crewmate over.
"Hull breach in Level 8 Section 3. Evacuate immediately," he heard as he looked at his friend's vacant expression. His crewmate was beyond caring about the state of the hull, or anything else.
"Thompson," the crewman said, mourning for his friend.
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In Command and Control, Larabee watched as the situation grew more and more desperate.
"I've lost connections with the lower decks," Buck reported.
"We've had multiple hull breaches," Dawn added. "Life support is failing."
"How long to transit?" Larabee asked.
"We need 10 more minutes to get past the gravitational distortion," Dawn said.
Too much time, and the Heart's captain knew it. "We're not gonna make it." He turned to Buck and asked, "How many of your androids are still functional?"
"29," replied Buck. "15 others are online, but I can't --"
"It'll have to do," Larabee said. "Man the critical systems. Give me shipwide."
"Shipwide," Buck confirmed, the voice echoing from every speaker.
"This is the captain. All hands, abandon ship. I say again, all hands, abandon ship. Use every available escape pod and drone." He moved from station to station as he spoke, setting them to minimal function and slaving them to the fewest boards possible. "Get away from the Heart as fast as possible, then scatter." he watched as the crew departed Command and Control. "Make your way to a Commonwealth starport and warn the High Guard what's happened here."
Chris glanced over and noticed Dawn hadn't made any move to leave its position.
"What about you?" the pilot asked its captain.
"I have an idea."
"You always do. You're gonna need a good pilot."
Now the Larabee glare was trained on a new target. "I ordered you to abandon ship."
Dawn straightened in its chair and addressed the empty space. "Let the record show that 1st Lt. Refractions of Dawn respectfully refuses to comply," and to Chris, "If we live through this, you can courtmartial me."
The captain shook his head. "You are one stubborn bug."
"What's the human expression? Guilty as charged."
Elsewhere aboard the Heart, crewmembers were, unlike Dawn, obeying the captain's order with alacrity as Buck continued to remind and instruct them.
"Abandon ship. All crew abandon ship. Use the escape pods. Shuttles available on Hangar Deck C. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. Abandon ship."
Cmdr. Rhade and the guard detail had diverted from their path to the brig when the "Abandon ship" order had been issued, and were now making their way to Hangar Deck C, as escape pods only held 2 human-sized sentient beings. As they came to a junction, Rhade continued forward instead of turning.
"This way, sir," one of the guards said, indicating they should turn.
The Nietzschean's answer was to open his spurs and bury them in his escort's midsections. As he finished them off and removed the forcelance from one's belt, he murmured, "You should train 'em better," and moved on. He had things to do.
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In Command and Control, Chris continued to put his idea into action. "Seal off Command and Control. Vent the rest of the atmosphere; we need to make the ship as light as possible."
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As the atmospheric pressure dropped, Rhade placed a breather in his mouth. He could survive in the lower pressure long enough to halt the venting in the corridors he needed and falsify the readings going to Command and Control.
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"The rest of the ship's been depressurized," Dawn reported.
"Set a course," Chris ordered. "Heading 090 by negative 15."
"But sir! That takes us straight --"
"I know where it takes us. Straight into the wormhole."
"Chris, are you sure about this?" Buck asked. "My connections to the rest of the ship are shot. We're leaking anti-protons from the port reserve tanks. I can't guarantee I'll have enough power left to pull us away from the singularity."
"We're not strong enough to fight our way free. We've got to use the black hole's gravity to slingshot us away from the Nietzscheans. It's our only chance." He continued to check the unmanned stations and make adjustments as necessary, as did Buck's androids, while Dawn finished setting their course.
"Course laid in."
"All forward, lieutenant."
"All forward, aye," and something in its own language.
"I, uh, didn't catch that last part."
" 'My life, my soul, for the high, for the high,' " Buck translated.
"Or as you apes would put it -- 'Bonzai!' " The ship raced toward the singularity, a few determined Nietzscheans in pursuit.
"Gravity fields are holding," Buck said.
"We're heading straight in." Dawn noted the Nietzscheans were still in pursuit. "When should I vector away?"
"Not just yet. Build up some speed first."
"We're at 25PSL. 26." The ship shuddered as it continued to take hits. "28 -- 30 --"
The lights dimmed as consoles went dark. "The main energy grid," Buck said, then his display flickered out and his last few words were slow and distorted. "I'm losing power."
"We've lost all power," Dawn reported.
"Going to reserves," Chris said. A moment later the lights came back, but Buck continued to flicker, standing frozen in place.
"Buck? Ship? Are you there?" the Than asked.
"The AI network's been disrupted."
"How could that *happen*?"
"Stay focused, lieutenant."
"Aye, aye."
"We can still make it. One thing's for sure," he said, noting their position, "there's no turning back now."
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Buck was, quite literally, trying to pull himself together after the sudden loss of main power. He'd just managed to access one of the comm panels in a corridor leading to Command and Control when he saw something -- or rather *someone* -- who shouldn't have been there. "Rhade?" he asked, incredulously.
The Nietzschean's only reply was to shoot out the comm panel and continue on his way.
===================
"Ten lightseconds away." Dawn noted the Nietzscheans were at last pulling up, but they'd fired a parting shot.
"Divert all power to starboard engines," Chris said from his position beneath an open console. He adjusted a connection, hoping his jury-rigged bypass would bring Buck back on-line. He felt the deck shudder as the last missile hit. "Plot a hyperbolic flyby, but keep us at least a half lightsecond away from the event horizon." He gave his work a last tweak and
saw it power up. "Got it!"
Buck flickered to life only long enough to say, "Chris! Sabotage!"
"Sabotage?" Chris darted to the security console to check for intruders.
"Captain, the starboard engines are off-line."
"Rotate the ship to com--" Chris stopped speaking as the doors opened, revealing Cmdr. Rhade.
"Commander?" Dawn asked.
It was the last word the Than would ever speak, as the Nietzschean shot it in the thorax, its powder blue ichor splattering the pilot's controls, the chair, and the deck around it. Chris dived behind a console and drew his own forcelance as Rhade's next shots flashed his way.
"Rhade?"
"I tried to warn you." He continued to fire as he worked his way to a position where he'd have a shot at Chris, dodging the captain's return fire.
"What are you doing?" Chris fired mostly to keep Rhade from reaching his goal too quickly, trying to think of a way to capture the Nietzschean alive.
"Ensuring the survival of my people. The Commonwealth is weak. It bargains with its enemies; it compromises. My people were engineered to be perfect, and the Commonwealth is no place for the strong." He punctuated his statement with another shot from his lance.
"So the Nietzscheans decided to destroy it."
"We spent years preparing. Waiting. Arming. For a long time I opposed the destruction of the Systems Commonwealth. So did many others." They exchanged more shots. "The Treaty of Antares changed all that."
"The Magog." Shot.
"Yes! The Magog!" He demonstrated his hatred with a flurry of shots.
Chris realized he'd have to do more than simply exchange fire with Rhade if he was to end this before the ship passed the event horizon and was pulled apart by the black hole. He began to modify his weapon as the Nietzschean continued his tirade.
"Savages. Predators. They eat sentient beings. They reproduce by rape." He paused to deactivate a fallen android with a vicious yank. "They killed over a billion people on Brandonburg Tor. They destroyed the Nietzschean colony on Hawking. And *what* did the Commonwealth do?"
"We made peace with them."
"You *compromised* with monsters! The blood of over a billion people cried out for vengeance, and you made peace." Seeing Chris was no longer shooting, he started across the deck to his position. "You have sown the wind: you shall reap the whirlwind!"
But Chris had finished his work. Checking the other man's position, he readied himself. "You know what you're problem is, Rhade? You talk too much." And slid his forcelance, which he had set to overload, across the deck.
The Nietzschean saw it coming and dived out of the way, but the force of the blast was still enough to send him flying, his weapon sailing from his grasp, which allowed Chris close enough for hand-to-hand combat. As they exchanged blows and kicks, time seemed to slow for a few seconds, then resume normally.
"What was that?" Chris asked between blows.
"A temporal distortion," Buck replied. "Our artificial gravity must be amplifying the time dilation effects of the black hole.
Rhade took the opportunity to press his attack, and lost a spur in the battle. He darted away, gathering himself for the next round.
"Give up," he said. "You can't win."
Chris noticed Dawn's forcelance, still attached to its harness. Rhade saw the direction of that glance.
"I told you before --" Chris began, and started to dive for the lance
"Time dilation is increeaassiinnggg." Buck's voice distorted as another dilation event began.
Both men were moving in slow motion as they went for weapons, Rhade going for his own which lay on the deck and Chris for Dawn's. His voice was also distorted as he finished his remarks.
"--pesssimism is nnot a survvival traittt!"
Both men fired as they dove for cover. Rhade missed; Chris didn't.
Time returned to normal for a few moments as Chris landed and rolled upright. He ran across the deck to his fallen friend and foe.
Chris rolled him over and supported his head. "Gaheris, what have you done?"
"I'm proud of you. You should be." His head fell back as life left him, and time stopped.
END PART 3