We walked in silence. Pain filled our hearts with every step, overwhelming us more and more. We were alone, against everyone in this world.
We were led to the crew and junior officer quarters. Almost all the hands of the Chaos lived in these blocks: pilots, mechanics, medics, and others. It was a concentration of life—real life, not the kind that commanded them. We were housed in a common room with Galt officers. The room had six beds and a couple of containers for personal belongings—quite good by local standards.
We had to spend two days here before the admiral approved sending us to Apollo. But during this time, we learned a lot.
"Kyle, are you going to finish your portion?" Durs asked, finishing the ration they'd given us in the mess hall.
"No, you can eat it," I said, waving my hand.
He eagerly began eating my food. Reni was recording something on his terminal and kept trying to draw something.
"What are you always doing there, Reni?" I couldn't help asking him.
At that moment, there was no one in the room except us, since the Galt officers were at their posts, doing their duty.
"Drawing a map of the Chaos," he answered without looking away from his terminal.
"Why?" Durs asked with a full mouth.
"Who knows how all this will turn out after yesterday," he said, glancing at us with a sad look.
He was right. After the Emperor's words, we could only rely on ourselves. Despite having mentors, who knew what they'd become after being declared non-citizens? Rage could have overtaken them, blinding them forever.
Even Fen was acting strangely, not following protocol. Maybe he had another mission.
Soon after the meal, we went out to walk around the ship so Renod could make new recordings and maps. As we walked, we passed between warehouses and training bases where, I noticed, Galt warriors trained. Their techniques differed from ours, as did their preparation. We also managed to talk with many people on board and beyond.
Durs talked with soldiers about service, and Reni with mechanics about the ship's construction, while I observed and noted details in the behavior of our new temporary acquaintances.
Many of them, to my surprise, turned out to be former traders or smugglers who loved telling space tales, like ancient sailors who once plied the ancient seas and oceans of Earth. They told landsmen about gigantic creatures, huge as the highest mountains and evil as the devil, which dragged ships into the watery abyss in seconds. Probably just myths of drunken sailors, but who knows what our world hides?
Space was no exception. We managed to meet at least two former traders and one former guide to the far corners of the galaxy. They all talked about rebels—a splinter group of crazies who'd settled on secret planets, building their secret weapon capable of destroying both Empires with a single shot. But what kind of weapon and where these so-called rebels were—no one could say for sure.
That's how our two days aboard the Chaos passed. Once we heard that the remnants of our fleet had left the system, abandoning it empty. Our forces had withdrawn and were taking defensive positions in another part of the galaxy.
Fen often visited us, briefing us and telling us what was happening on board among the high command. As he told us, two hours after our Emperor's message, the Galt Emperor called and congratulated the admiral on his victory, saying he would reward him upon return to Apollo.
"High-ranking officers and commanders are gathering today for an emergency meeting with the Emperor," Fen said, leaning on the railing and looking down at the mechanics in the docks. "Something's definitely happening."
We gazed into the distance, silently listening to his stories and gossip.
"Are you allowed to be there?" Renod asked, looking at him.
"Yes, of course. And I'll tell you if anything interesting comes up."
He looked tired and sad. I wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Something wrong, Commander?" Durs asked.
"Everything's fine. Just lost contact with one of your curators recently," he said, tapping his fingers on the railing. "Hope it's just a communication glitch. Otherwise, we'll have to expect the worst on Apollo."
"You think counterintelligence exposed someone?" Reni suggested.
"I don't want to think anything."
His voice faded because just then, one of the damaged ships was landing in the docks. It landed with difficulty, breaking one of its left struts on touchdown. Its side was torn open, and the whole ship was scorched. An operational response team of medics and top-tier mechanics immediately rushed to it. They helped the crew exit and began repairing the ship. Shouts and orders filled everything around us.
"War is terrible," Reni sighed heavily, watching what was happening below.
"No other way. The main thing is to remember that after any terrible war comes atonement for all our sins. Ancient people said that he who kills in war is twice as sinful as he who kills in peacetime," Fen recounted.
"How's that?" I asked, intrigued.
"I don't know. In my forty-plus years of service, I never found out," he exhaled heavily, turned around, and leaned back against the railing. Looking at us, he said: "Alright, guys. Today was a hard day, and tomorrow will be worse. Let's go rest."
With a weak smile, he walked off to the high command quarters, leaving us alone.
The wind wandering through the corridors cooled us down. The shouting below stopped, and the docks gradually emptied. Lights were turning off in some sections.
"What do you think about all this?" Reni asked, gazing into the endless expanse of space.
"About what?" Durs asked, looking at him.
"About all of this," Reni answered quietly and calmly.
"We're screwed," Durs grinned.
"Completely. Back home, nobody needs us, and here we're surrounded by enemies," I said, staring into the distance.
"Maybe. But we have each other, guys," Durs said, patting me and Reni on the shoulder.
"Yeah, we do," I said through clenched teeth.
"Well, let's go sleep," Reni said and pushed off from the railing. Heading toward our section, he looked back at us: "Well, come on."
"Coming," Dursal said and followed him.
"I'll come later," I interjected. I needed to be alone.
And I stayed alone. They left, and I could think and let out all my emotions and experiences. Something was inside me, deep within, like a lump preventing me from living normally. It had appeared after yesterday and hadn't left me. I don't know if the others felt the same—I didn't show it.
Maybe the Emperor's words had wounded me so deeply, or maybe it was our situation, which we'd ended up in by his will. Maybe I felt sorry for the guys who'd given their lives for this cause, only to be betrayed. Maybe I felt sorry for the admiral of the Thunderer, and his sad look would haunt me until the end of my days. Too many questions, but as always—not a single answer.
I kept watching the docks. Down below, mechanics wandered and soldiers stood guard. Many walked by, laughing loudly, discussing something. Despite the horror around them, they were just like us.
Soon I heard the clanking of boots on metal somewhere behind me. I didn't turn around until they got closer. When I did, I saw an alien. It was one of the Legori, dressed in a red cloak with some colorful patterns. He stopped next to me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a strong accent that was hard to understand.
"Me?" I said quickly, stunned by the question.
"Yes, you. Who else?" he said with a frown.
"Just thinking."
The creature looked at me distrustfully but didn't leave. Instead, it stayed and, leaning on the railing like Fen and we had done, began staring down into the distance.
"My name is Kil'do-Du-Makhran. I am commander of a Confederation trade ship," he said.
"I'm Kyle. Just Kyle. I'm an officer on this ship," I told him.
He was old. His hair was gray, and some of his twelve eyes had gone white with blindness. He was probably over two hundred years old.
"Care for some?" he asked, taking a smoking pipe from his mouth and offering it to me.
"No thanks. I don't smoke," I politely declined. He looked me up and down but said nothing.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"We were supposed to cross this system and head to the Liberian Empire to sell kraits. But as soon as we entered the system, the Galts intercepted us and brought us here," he began telling me. "After hundreds of interrogations and confiscation of our goods, they put us in custody and are still holding us." He cursed in his own language at the end.
"What's kraits?" I asked, curious about a material I'd never heard of. "Some kind of mineral?"
The old creature laughed, making sounds like a frog's croak, but decided to explain.
"Strange that an officer of such a powerful Empire doesn't know such secrets."
"I don't know much about ores," I explained.
"Kraits isn't an ore or a material, as you're used to thinking of everything that has a name and can be transported. Kraits is energy—harvested on distant planets in deep sea craters. Then this energy is collected in containers and used for various purposes: in shipbuilding, in laboratories, and most often…" the creature began explaining, but then it dawned on me, and I interrupted:
"In weapons."
He just looked at me silently and continued:
"Yes, exactly. But a special weapon—capable of firing across thousands of light-years and reaching its target in seconds."
"But how is that possible?" I protested.
"I don't know, my friend. I'm just a delivery man," he said, smiling this time.
"You were bringing it to the Liberian Empire? That's why they took you into custody," I concluded, looking at him.
"Very few people know about this so-called material. It was surprising that your army and your Empire don't know about it."
I just turned away from him and continued wandering in thought. Could our Emperor have had such a weapon, one that could destroy all the Galts? And was this the rebels' weapon the smugglers had told us about? Maybe my new alien friend was lying through his teeth.
I wouldn't find out.
Two soldiers appeared from around the corner, heading toward us. Seeing the alien, they aimed their weapons at him and started shouting something. My little friend saw this and began to run. They opened fire. He shot back until one of the bullets hit him. He fell to his knees and started crawling. White blood spilled onto the black floor.
I ran over to them and grabbed him by the arms, drawing my pistol and tossing it aside.
"Don't move! What the hell is going on?" I demanded.
He coughed white blood.
"Take this. You must know the truth! Take it and hide it!" he began whispering urgently.
Noise filled the area, so the soldiers would surely hear and see.
The wounded creature placed a small disc in my hand and closed my fist with his seven thin fingers. I tucked it into my uniform pocket, pushed the creature onto his stomach, and pinned his arms behind his back.
"I've got him!" I shouted to the soldiers. "I'm sorry, Commander," I whispered quietly in his ear. He said nothing.
The soldiers approached and arrested the creature, then called for medics and backup. One of the soldiers who'd shot the poor, wounded commander came up to me with an outstretched hand.
"Thank you, Officer…" he said, looking at my name sewn onto my chest. "Kyle Gratz."
"Always welcome," I said, shaking his hand. "What will happen to him?"
"Not sure exactly, but he wounded Frank, so a military court will decide his fate," he answered calmly.
"I see."
He saluted and walked away. I was still watching him when someone grabbed me from behind by the shoulder. Startled, I drew my pistol and turned to see Reni and Durs.
"Hey, easy, Kyle. What the hell is going on?" Durs asked, raising his hands to show he was unarmed.
I lowered my pistol and holstered it, staring intently at them.
"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting… And the fugitive arrest…" I began stammering, trying to explain.
"You clearly need to rest," Renod said.
"Yeah, probably."
After a minute of silence, we headed to our block. As we approached, I reached into my uniform pocket, trying to find the disc the alien had given me.
It was there. Something inside me calmed down when I felt it.
Entering the block, I went to the shower to cool off. Streams of cold water ran down my body, filling my soul with cold, emptying my heart. Maybe you know the feeling—like when you jump into a cold river or lake. Your breath catches, and you start to panic a little. But that wasn't there then. I was alone. Only the sound of drops hitting the marble floor shattered the silence around me.
After the shower, I went to rest. I decided to keep the disc with me, just in case. By then, I still hadn't looked at what was on it.
I sank into sleep—long and dark. Darkness consumed me and carried me along rivers of time, dropping me, lifting me. I was like that very drop sliding from my hair onto my body. Until I was completely consumed.
I woke up sitting in a personnel transport ship. No one around. Cold and fear gripped me. I tried to stand but fell onto my hands. I froze in terror.
I didn't make a sound. I tried to scream, but instead of a scream, there was a hum—indescribable. I tried to stand again—and this time succeeded. I swayed, could barely stay on my feet, having to hold onto the ship's walls.
I decided to go to the pilot, but when I reached the cockpit, I found no one. The ship was on autopilot. Recoiling, I turned back. The corridor I'd come through began stretching and disappearing into space, trying to pull me in. I ran away, stumbling and falling. I crawled to the cockpit door, but it was too late.
I closed my eyes. I felt nothing, heard nothing. After a minute in a compressed position, I opened my eyes and saw myself sitting in a green meadow, leaning back against a tree. Its crown shaded me. Birds sang around me, and the wind moaned. I stood, using the tree for support. Looking around, I noticed nothing. Checking my pockets, I found I was unarmed—no pistol, no disc.
A moment later, something tore through the heavens, showing a bright flash like a sun exploding. I turned away, but looking again, I saw a massive beam striking the very planet I was on. The ground shook beneath my feet. I fell and, trying to get up, noticed something colossal approaching me on the horizon.
Light. Death.
I started running. I ran across the field, stumbling, barely staying on my feet. But death was catching up. The closer it got, the clearer I heard the screams of all the lives it had taken: weeping, shouting, moaning.
Until finally…
It caught me. And I became one of the screams. I screamed. So loud and hard that I think I tore my throat. Then it all ended—as it had begun.
I woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, clutching the disc that had cut into my palms. I loosened my grip and looked at it.
There was a symbol on it: a white skull with black spots. Looking closer, I rubbed it with my thumb—its eye lit up with a faint yellow glow. I threw it aside.
The skull opened its mouth, and from it appeared a tiny line with coordinates and a caption below:
IT IS READY. MEETING POINT.
I didn't know the location of these coordinates, so rubbing the skull again, the message disappeared, and I put it back in my pocket.
I tried to sleep again, but I never did.