It had been a month since Sorin had obtained the data from the Superius, but he had finally found what he was looking for. The solar system Shodus’ notes had led him to was on the outside edge of the Bythos Empire and was relatively new, with debris caught in the star’s orbit still in the process of forming into planets. Billions of years from now, this place might become the cradle for a new civilization. Sorin looked on it with a sense of tenderness, being more mindful of his surroundings as he flew his Chariot around clouds of space dust.
The notes mentioned that Shodus’ crew had experienced difficulty in finding the prophesied ship. That was the strangest part: how Shodus knew the ship existed was hard to discern, save for a single reference to something called the “Great Dreamer”. Another mystery to add to the list. The Superius’ sensors had been blind to the alien ship, but Sorin’s Chariot was trillions of years ahead in technology. An hour of sweeps turned up energy signatures of multiple Aether dives, what mortals called hyperspace jumps. The most recent were obviously from the Superius entering and exiting the solar system, but the Chariot’s computer dated the oldest at nearly a century.
That long ago? If that was the case, then why was he only learning about it now? Sorin pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders, feeling chills. If this intrusion had gone unnoticed for so long, then there might be others. No species attempted something once and then did nothing for the next hundred years.
He isolated the old Aether signature and had the Chariot’s computer calculate gravitational pull and orbital trajectory in order to estimate the mystery ship’s location. Once he had the numbers, he set off again. The estimation was incredibly exact, but Sorin only found the ship by nearly crashing into it. The ship’s hull was made from the same night-black alloy as Shodus’ artifact, and it easily blended into the void. Sorin reversed the Chariot, running various scans across the ship’s surface to get a sense of its appearance. It was massive, at least a third bigger than the Superius had been, nearly twelve kilometres across. Its shape was not easily described; a sort of jagged crescent shape, with a long pole-like antenna extending from both the top and bottom ends. It matched no design Sorin had ever seen.
Further examination revealed the damage mentioned in the notes. The Aether could be a dangerous place, and longer journeys through it increased the risk of a serious accident. If this ship had managed the impressive feat of using the Aether to pass through the Firmament, then Sorin thought it had gotten off lightly. Large chunks had been ripped from the back of the ship, torn free by the Aether’s drag as the vessel had attempted to breach into normal space. The front had been marked by long gashes, caused by debris colliding with it at high speeds. Even a Deus would’ve had a hard time surviving such a catastrophe, meaning the crew of this vessel were almost certainly dead on arrival.
He flew in closer, searching for some hint of who had sent this ship. Shodus had theorized that it had been an unmanned probe, but the size of the thing filled Sorin with doubts. Yet his sensors picked up no signs of organic matter, which even after a century should have remained within the vacuum of space.
Sorin found a particularly large opening and flew the Chariot into the vessel’s depths. The space began to shrink, and soon he was forced to land and continue without the Chariot. He brought a light with him and floated further inside. Even though the ship was empty, he still felt anxious. The inside of the vessel felt oppressive, its dark walls seeming to swallow his light and limit his vision. Even the flames he sparked with his own hands didn’t seem to burn quite as brightly. He’d brought his sword on the off-chance he’d need to cut through the debris, and he gripped it anxiously as he moved on.
The corridors were angular, diamond-shaped, and seemed to be made from the same material as the hull. Why a crew-less ship would need corridors, Sorin could only guess, but there were many of them, spreading out both horizontally and vertically. They varied in size as well, some big enough for two Hammerfists to fly side by side, and others barely large enough to fit a human child. None of them had floors, and Sorin guessed this vessel hadn’t possessed artificial gravity. If it was a probe, that would make sense, as there would be no need if there was no crew.
Some corridors ended in hatches, most shut tight. Sorin cut his way through one, and found what appeared to be a damaged computer bank inside. It wasn’t functional, but it was absolutely massive, stretching far beyond the reach of Sorin’s meagre flame. He considered bringing a portion of it back with him, but he couldn’t find a means to separate parts of the computer, or even an indication that it was anything more than a single solid unit. He returned to the hall, disappointed.
He held a hand against the wall as he moved, feeling the ice-cold metal beneath his palm. The artifact had reacted to contact with certain individuals, but these walls were unresponsive. Was that because they were different, or because the mechanisms were broken, or because he wasn’t one of those individuals? Sorin didn’t think too hard about it, deciding it wasn’t important.
A shape appeared at the edge of his vision and he froze. He stared at it for longer than he probably should have, hand clasped around his sword’s hilt, before he remembered there was nothing alive on this ship. He flew closer, letting his flame illuminate the object. It was a machine, though it bore a striking resemblance to an insect. It was about half of Sorin’s size, with a narrow body like a rounded carapace that ended in a semi-circular “head”. The top of this “head” was armoured, and beneath the rounded cranium was a set of small crystalline implements that might have been some form of optical equipment, along with a pair of mandible-like tools. Flipping it over, Sorin found that the oddity had eight limbs tucked beneath its carapace, each ending in a six-fingered mechanical hand.
What was this? It must have been some kind of maintenance device, operated by whoever had sent the vessel to keep it in shape. The Aether accident must have destroyed its connection to its operator, leaving it in this inactive state. Its resemblance to a living creature was hardly worth noting, unless it had been designed to mimic the appearance of its creators. He did not recognize the shape.
There were many questions, and he still had no answers. Perhaps they resided somewhere in this vessel, but Sorin was growing weary of its pitch-dark confines. He would return later, once he’d thought things through. He grabbed the machine and headed back the way he’d come. It would make a good sample to study, although he personally knew little of machines.
Once he’d returned to the Chariot and secured the machine in the hold, he contacted Lutus.
“Sorin, where in Mother’s name have you been?” Lutus’ voice bore the heavy strain of a recent prophecy.
“I’m sorry, brother, but I didn’t want to bother you unless I found something substantial,” Sorin replied.
“Well, in the time you’ve been out of contact, the prophecy has changed.”
Sorin felt both excitement and dread at the possibilities. “Will there still be a war?”
“Yes—maybe,” Lutus said distractedly. “The whole thing’s become more muddled than before. The interference keeps cutting in, and it’s nearly impossible to deduce anything from what I have left. What did you find?”
Sorin smiled to himself; so a change had been made. “A vessel made from an alloy I’ve never seen and filled with unfamiliar technology. It’s all dead, though, and nearly a century old.”
“All right,” Lutus replied, slowly. “Have you figured out where it’s from? Nothing survived?”
Sorin thought of the artifact that the Rashani had taken. Had he been wrong to let them? Could it cause any harm? He couldn’t be sure until he’d put all the pieces into some kind of whole. He decided to omit mentioning the artifact until he’d found another chance to examine it.
“The vessel was found by…” He stopped himself. Lutus would lose his mind if he found out about Shodus, or Marissa for that matter. Another thing to keep to himself for the time being. “It was found by the Empire. Perhaps the interference is coming from the technology they took from it. I’ll return to the ship to investigate further, but for now I’m taking a sample to be examined.”
“You know there’s only one Deus with the expertise to help you,” Lutus warned.
“I know,” Sorin said, calmly. “This day had to come eventually. I’ll give her your regards.”
“Very well,” Lutus replied. “Good luck, brother.” He switched off, leaving Sorin alone with his thoughts.
Sorin took a deep breath and input the coordinates. How long had it been since they’d seen each other? It had been just after Xelk’s death, so about four hundred years. If he recalled correctly, she’d been furious with him when he left. The Aether drive began to hum, and he set off. Deus had long memories, but hopefully four centuries was enough to put him and Ulenne back on speaking terms. He hoped she could see that the threat they could be facing was bigger than any lover’s quarrel. The Firmament had been breached, and the future was uncertain.