“You could come with us,” said Ondo. “If these Tok are as benign as you claim, they may want you to join our fight. It is my belief that Concordance have allied with some remnant of the Morn, or are using their technology to suppress the galaxy.”
“I will not remain with you,” Surtr replied. “It already causes me a range of odd feelings knowing that I will be gone for even a short time.”
“What odd feelings?” Ondo asked.
“I am not sure what you would call them. They are unsettling. Perhaps you would describe them as … alarm, anxiety. Fear.”
Selene calculated. If the Aetheral was coming with them, it would surely avoid dropping them into a star or a singularity. Its Tok builders must have built safeguards into it. Or, if they did materialise inside a star, there had to be a chance that Surtr's ship could withstand the extreme temperatures and pressures. Clearly the Tok had been capable of building such structures.
There was also the possibility that Surtr might deliver them into the clutches of Concordance, this sudden conversion all for show. But, staying where they were wasn't an option. She would take her chances, and fight her way out of it if necessary.
“Let's go then,” she said. “Take us through.”
Selene watched for the moment when they emerged from the featureless grey of the tunnel into normal space. The good news was, they didn't emerge inside the blazing fusion reaction of a star. Instead, the cold blackness of normal space engulfed them, unfamiliar stars and clusters shining all around. It felt like being welcomed back into a comfortable reality.
It took her flecks only a moment to triangulate off the visible stars and fix their location in space. They had travelled three hundred light-years around the disc of the galaxy, moving, as they'd surmised, against the spin of the galactic mass. They were a long way from the Refuge; a long way from anywhere she knew or had ever been to.
She sent Ondo their coordinates, and was about to ask him if he was aware of any Concordance presence in that sector, when Surtr spoke in her mind.
“There are ships out there. Eleven of them, surrounding us. I see them. They are projecting focused energy beams and small, high-velocity objects directly at us. They are manoeuvring to surround us.”
“Show me.”
Images of the vessels appeared in her mind, overlaid onto a three-dimensional map of the system. Eleven Cathedral ships were there, arranged in a net formation. All were already firing their weapons to plug the gaps, setting up a complete containment sphere.
That answered her other question, at least. Concordance were there waiting for them.
Part 2 - Millennial
1. Evils
“This is where you use this ship's weaponry,” Selene called to Surtr. “Fire everything you have at them while I plot an escape vector.”
Surtr's voice in her head remained utterly calm. “I cannot use the weapon; this is not the correct enemy.”
What the hell did that mean? Expressions were obviously impossible to read upon the lines of its rigid face, but it appeared to be confused by the sight of the attacking ships. It actually cocked its head from side-to-side, like every pet dog she'd ever owned trying to understand intelligent speech.
“What are you talking about?” she flung back. “The correct enemy to fire at is the one firing at you. It's a simple concept. And what do you mean by weapon, singular? We need to fire high-g missiles, lay down arcs of beam-weapon fire to push them onto the vectors we need, use whatever exotic weapon tech you have to give us an edge, improve our odds.”
“I have no usable weapons at this point.”
Without proper access to the ship's control systems and sensors, she was essentially blind. It was maddening. “You're sure? You haven't miraculously received the knowledge that you do from somewhere?”
“I have not. And these vessels … should we not communicate with them, understand their intentions?”
“Why would we do that?”
“They do not look like enemies.”
“They're firing at us, attempting to obliterate us. That's generally a pretty clear sign. Can't you see?”
“But, their forms…” Surtr's voice trailed off into silence. It was struggling to understand what it was seeing. It had been cocooned in its bubble for a long, long time and now it had stepped outside onto a much larger stage.
She thought she knew what specifically was troubling it: it recognized the Cathedral ships. They clearly had structural similarities to Surtr's own. The fact confused her, too. If their understanding was correct, these were ships from opposing sides in the ancient Morn/Tok conflict. But, perhaps all vessels from so long ago would look similar to her eyes.
“I think they've made their intentions pretty damned clear,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “There has to be something we can fight with.”
“There is nothing that can be deployed at this moment.”
Suppressing her frustration, Selene turned back to the unfolding battlefield, forcing herself to breathe, assess. Address each threat in order of urgency, then move onto the next. There was only one sensible approach to take.
Run.
She studied the approaching weaponry, using the telemetry her own senses could give her. They had a little leeway, but punching a hole through the tightening net of ships was going to be bumpy, especially as they came into beam-weapon range.
She turned her attention to the tunnel entrance they'd emerged from, disappearing behind them as they accelerated. It was another cone, much wider and shallower than the one at the dead star, its mouth five hundred kilometres in diameter, meaning that they'd emerged into open space immediately and were fully visible. That was bad and good news: they were exposed, but they could also manoeuvre. Inside the cone they'd have been trapped. Could they loop back, escape down the way they'd come? It felt like a bad move, a dead-end. If they were followed – if
