Jade and R11 hadn’t been able to talk with Octavia or Bryson since the communications had begun to fail, but they were constantly running the program in the background, hoping something would break through the invisible barrier. Despite the recent battle with the Squids, and the fact that we were cut off from home, everyone on our two Racers seemed in good spirits, even cranky Aster.
I was confident Holland might be at this outpost, and I couldn’t wait to search for signs of his Pod. If we could find that, he’d be close by.
As I piloted Pilgrim, preparing for our jump to FTL, I thought about the story of the Stin. They’d sacrificed it all to stop the Velibar from taking their planet. They’d gone as far as killing their organic bodies and destroying the only home they’d ever had.
The situation was growing more dire. We’d bested the Squid after the Race, and then defeated them with a trap on a fake Refuge. But after seeing their outpost, with all the defenses and military presence, I had second thoughts about our chances.
We’d gotten lucky near Saturn, and the Darlor, Hidan, and Stin had been preparing for the Velibar invasion for decades, giving them the upper hand. Rushing into the enemy’s lair was an entirely different game, one we didn’t know the rules to.
I liked guidelines. I was a sprinter, trained to obey the regulations. Stay on course, hit the Rings, and finish the final checkpoint. Win a trophy. Sign a few autographs and call it a day. This was out of my comfort zone.
My team put on airs of confidence, but I could see the doubt on their faces. The way Luther’s eyes averted when we discussed attacking the drone moon. How Jade didn’t like to talk about anything beyond this outpost raid. To her, there was no future, and while she claimed it was because she didn’t like to think too far ahead, I worried it was for other reasons. That Jade didn’t expect to live.
It was too close to Zonrial’s prediction. I wouldn’t let that happen.
I flew in silence, with Luther reading over more stats the Stin had produced on their blasts against the Velibar Barges. It gave a detailed account of shield output, hull depth, and weak spots. It was invaluable data the Stin didn’t have until they’d faced the Squids, and now they were analyzing it all, coming up with reports and suggestions on the optimal course of pulse attacks.
Jade continued to work on the comms, and she’d also asked the Stin to send over information on their transporters. That was gold to a mind like hers. Her eyes had lit up when we mentioned the technology.
R11 still cracked the odd joke, but he was slightly more subdued since we’d lost contact with Bryson. He was a SeaTech robot, with the ultimate loyalty to Bryson. I also thought something was bothering him about his connection with the Stin, but I hadn’t had a chance to discuss it with him yet.
“Prepare for upgrade,” the Stin advised into our cockpit. “Destination: Paedra. Location known. Assault… unlikely.”
We had over a hundred of the Stin with us. I’d found one of them among that icy debris on my mission to Eris. Now I was flying with an entire fleet, moving to their new home. Nothing seemed real anymore.
I lost control of the ship for a moment, and for a second, regretted giving the Stin permission to access our network. The location settled in, and the FTL mods fired up. We shot forward, aiming at Paedra.
The Stin relaxed their grip, and Pilgrim was once again mine. “You okay, Killer?” I asked Varn.
“A-OK over here on the dream machine. How about you guys?” Varn responded.
“Everything’s a go. See you soon.” I cut the call. I read the ETA on my dash and was glad it was only three days away.
Instead of taking a break, I re-watched the feeds from Obelisk’s bridge. The older version of Preston Lewis demanded our surrender. He was loud and proud, but his secret message to me spoke volumes.
I am sorry. Arlo, forgive me. There was no choice. Do not trust…
The meaning was obvious. But was my grandfather telling me that he was still on our side, or that he was really working for the Velibar? Being sorry and doing something about it were two completely different things, and I recalled Zonrial’s words from the other night. Actions speak louder than words.
Could I ever trust Preston Lewis again? Only time would tell.
____________
Twelve Years Ago
Preston Lewis strode through the hallway, his old Proxima mission jumpsuit a thing of the past. He wore clothing the First Ruler’s personal robot had stitched, and despite his initial resentment at dressing like his captors, they were starting to grow on him.
Dutis was unlike anything he would have predicted. The Velibar homeworld was almost rustic. The capital city of Foundation kept the original structures from the very first Ruler’s era.
Preston couldn’t imagine what life had been like over a million years ago. He’d read enough about the people to know they’d existed long before their efforts had brought them space travel. It was said a mysterious light in the sky had visited them for centuries before they grew wise and managed to capture it.
Using the vessel as a template, they had created their own iterations, and eventually tracked the source planet of their prize. It was the first world the Velibar had invaded and expanded to.
There were days when Preston saw a sliver of hope in the Velibar. Intimate moments between a couple on the streets. Love of a parent with their children as they walked to the market. But the reality was, the Velibar had violent tendencies, with the distinct desire to multiply their reach and own every planet and its inhabitants.
Their parallels to the Primary Corporations were there, but Preston knew they took
