Zonrial cut to the chase as usual. “Do you fear the Velibar?”
“They are destructive. They triggered my ancestors to destroy our world. I do not fear them, yet I do not loathe them as you do. I consider the Velibar a danger to my existence,” it admitted.
Trid took this and ran with it. “Then fight with us. We have their outpost in our targets. With you on our side, we can dismantle their drone army. Stop future gateways from being created. Protect Refuge and prevent Earth’s invasion.”
“How would we contribute?” it asked.
“Protection. Ground assault assistance. As well as a device powerful enough to destroy a planet,” Trid said softly. We hadn’t discussed ending their entire existence, but it would make a point. I clung to the fact that their homeworld had to be decimated in order for us to have a chance at survival. I held my breath while waiting for Stin to respond.
“Destroying planets is not a precedent I’d care to set.” The image of the planet faded, revealing a complex network of wires, conductors, and transmitters.
“I hate to break it to you, Stin, but you’ve already set that precedent,” Zonrial told it.
“That was the weakness of Stin’s flesh and blood—”
“The Stin blew up their own planet, which indicates you have the means to do it again. We wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t need your help.” Zonrial walked right up to the latest projection, and it shimmered. Stin altered its form into a different shape.
“Do you feel more comfortable with me in my previous body?” it asked.
The Stin were squat creatures, their legs hefty at the thigh, hips wide, balanced by feet twice the size of mine. It appeared as though they’d lived with a stronger gravitational pull on their old world. He wore dark clothing, the material dull and subdued. His arms stretched past his knees, and lengthy fingers flexed as if he was testing their functionality.
It was his face that drew my attention, though. His head was thicker along the neck, narrowing as it pointed behind him. A tuft of hair sat above two earholes. The Stin had no nose, but there was a horizontal flap above its open mouth.
“This is an approximation of myself.”
“I thought the Stin were one entity,” Jade said.
“That is correct.”
“How do you populate?” Jade made the question sound non-invasive.
“The Stin’s procreation was different than yours.” That was all he said on the subject. Jade appeared fascinated, but now wasn’t the time for interspecies inquisitions. That was always the first thing that came to mind when meeting a new alien. Having Jade around didn’t help that fact.
“Are you going to join us?” I asked it.
Having a sense of these beings’ identity made a world of a difference. With it anthropomorphized, it was easier to talk at its level.
“I will need time—”
“You’re the fastest processor in the known universe,” Zonrial barked. “You’ve decided already. Give us your answer. My brother is being tortured as we speak. We mustn’t delay.”
Stin stepped closer to her, its body shimmering as the program shifted. “I will do my part.”
The platform we stood on vibrated. “What was that?”
“I’ve begun the manufacturing process. We require more Stin, and you will have your ground assault weapons.” Stin waved a hand, and an image blinked in front of us. It showed a factory somewhere on Stin. Thousands of robotic arms and drones were at work. I could already make out the shape of the Stin ships taking form.
“This is live?” Trid asked, finally finding his voice again.
“Give me one Refuge cycle to complete the tasks.”
“Can we do anything?” I walked up to the projection, and Stin watched me through his avatar.
“Arlo Lewis. I wish to speak with you. Would the rest please let 598 guide you to your quarters?”
A floating platform landed. It was unmanned.
“You want me to stay?” Luther asked me while the others filed onto the transport.
“I’ll be okay.” I hoped that was true.
Jade gave me a worried glance as they lifted. I’d expected a fight from Zonrial or Trid, but the Darlor leader gave me a single nod before they were out of sight. Their platform lifted into an opening in the ceiling.
Stin kept his physical avatar. “They do not understand that Stin no longer feels. Stin has lost all connection to its organic ancestors, but part of them remains inside Stin.”
“Thank you for helping,” I told Stin.
“I would have preferred to ignore their request. Stin are capable of leaving. I am not limited to this system, despite the fact that I orbit this star like a planet. The Velibar are a logistical threat. I fear no one, but… they make me pause.”
I didn’t know if this was a warning or merely a fact. “Why are you telling me this and not them?”
“The Darlor and Hidan have been fighting the Velibar for centuries. They became blinded by their grief. They are illogical in their actions.”
“And you think humans are any different?” I asked him.
“It’s happened countless times in history, well before the Velibar, and it will continue long after their demise. Humans are quite young. The inevitable invasion was underway, whether it was by the Velibar or a thousand years from now with a different adversary.”
I wasn’t grasping what Stin was saying. “How can we be logical?”
“I have watched things unfold. Stin receives countless transmissions. The one named Preston Lewis, from your Racer’s database. I understand he is your blood?”
I stared at the strange alien projection, wishing he’d get to the point. “That’s right. He’s my grandfather.”
“The Velibar are built off this very principle. They often convince someone to betray their people. They misconstrue the truth, make false promises. It is an effective method of chaos.”
“How do you know this?” The ceiling opened, and something lowered. Initially, I thought it was the transport platform returning for me, but it was a Velibar drone: the same ones they’d
