A second, larger explosion rocked the space near Gunthix. He corrected his flight and aimed for the next ship near him, a battle cruiser named Arrow. The black of space began to light up with blue streaks of plasma from the Arrow. He landed and began tearing through the hull just as before. His H.U.D. lit up, informing him of the incoming strafing runs from a group of asp fighters. He selected his Gatling-guns to fire automatically. They spun up and fired several bursts, ending the threat. He continued ripping through the hull as the ship began broadcasting calls for help and evacuation. Atmosphere vented rapidly through the walls past him as he ravaged the warship. He found the core room and destroyed the core as before.
Gunthix was launched into space once again. He continued his flight without using his jets to correct his flight. A frigate began firing its weapons as it charged him with hopes of ramming him. Gunthix grabbed the front of the ship and began tearing it down the middle. His Gatling-guns roared as more Asp fighters attempted to attack him. A small explosion vibrated through the vessel as its core exploded. Seeing the frigate as no longer a threat, he applied his boosters toward another battleship, not caring what its name was.
As he surged forward along the side of the ship, a series of explosions followed his path. A few ships had decided that it was necessary for them to open fire with their cannons without full guidance from their aiming assist. Gunthix enticed them into firing at a weak point in the hull and entered in the hole that they had given him. As he made his way through the ship, an armed soldier rushed him. His H.U.D. hadn’t even logged the small arms fire as a threat. The giant beast turned its head and reached out a massive arm toward the soldier and grabbed him. The minute man squirmed as Gunthix decided whether to crush him or fling him into space. He punched a hole in the wall with his other hand and fired a rocket at the core system, destroying the capital ship in a powerful explosion.
The resulting explosion sent him into space again. He released the soldier, grabbed a close flying asp, and rode it into another battleship. The explosion set him flying toward the rear of the ship. He grabbed the hull and swung into the ship, crashing through several floors. He continued his destruction to the core, destroyed it, and was flung into space again. Another group of asp fighters attacked again. His Gatling-guns spun up and fired, destroying their attempt at ending his rampage. A trio of reapers swooped down from above and fired a volley of missiles at their target. An explosion rocked him and he flew to another ship.
Gunthix landed on the ship and reached to rip through the hull again and discovered his right arm had been destroyed. He paused as he watched the blood pour out slowly. His H.U.D. began displaying his life support and the suit closed off his arm and pressurized it to save the rest of his body. The blood slowed its flow and Gunthix began ripping through the hull with one arm. When a hole was made, he aimed a cannon and fired several shots to expose the core system. He fired a final shot and surged his boosters to escape the blast.
***
“This is battleship Desert Rose. Gunthix is on board and ---“The radio ended in static. “Admiral Mars,” a soldier called out to the frightened admiral, “Gunthix is breaking through the hulls of each ship and destroying their cores.” Admiral Mars nodded and watched the images on the screen as Gunthix destroyed another battleship. “Sir, I don’t see any tactical option that would allow the fleet to survive. Each explosion completely destroys each ship. I suggest we use the frigates and smaller craft to harass him as the capital ships fall back, regroup, and prepare concentrated anti-craft fire.”
Admiral Mars hated being told the obvious, but he hated being told tactics. He always prided his rapid advancement on his tactical insight. The advancement he was planning on would be stalled if anyone witnessed his fleet perform a cowardly retreat.
“Battleship Saber,” called out a soldier, “Report your damage.”
Another soldier approached the radio officer, “How did Saber take on damage? It's on our flank.”
The first soldier began to rapidly press several buttons on his console before answering, “I'm not sure, but cruisers Starshine and Red Rose have received similar damage. It's almost like something rammed into them.”
The senior soldier pressed a button and spoke, “All ships, maintain your intervals. We are having friendly collisions.”
An idea suddenly emerged in Admiral Mars' mind. “Order the battleship Mist to overload its core,” he commanded ferociously, “And then give targeting to all available ships to prepare to fire on it.” A few soldiers stopped and stared at the admiral and his order. What he had just ordered was the certain death of an entire capital ship. The idea of knowingly killing thousands was horrible. “Quit staring and send out the orders.” He watched another ship explode as a flurry of movement responded.
***
Gunthix flew toward the battleship Mist with equal intensity. Two asp fighters attempted to intercept him but exploded violently. He launched another rocket at a passing frigate and aimed his cannons at the battleship. Two explosions responded and a large gaping hole was produced as it vented atmosphere rapidly. He pushed forward with his jets and landed inside the ship. A red light flooded the room he landed in and he knocked through the final wall surrounding the core system. His H.U.D. began flashing warning signals of the gas venting rapidly out of the cores. He aimed his wrist and waited for another rocket to cycle into the weapon.
His tactical H.U.D. began screaming. He watched as several ships launched a volley of fire aimed directly at his location. The thin red lines in his map raced from several warships, converging on his current target. He calculated his possibility of out running the explosion and decided his best chance was negligible. A smile began to grow on his face as the rocket slowly cycled into the chamber. He fired his rocket and an explosion met him before the rocket could connect with its target. The room exploded, destroying the ship and several nearby capital ships that had not managed to move far enough from the explosion.
***
“Radar detects no more movement that isn’t registered to one of our craft,” spoke a soldier, “We can’t find Gunthix.” A slow applause started as he finished his sentence.
“It is extremely likely that he was obliterated by the explosion,” responded another soldier. Admiral Mars collapsed in his chair as he listened to the applause. Several officers approached him and congratulated him on another great victory and told him that the cost of victory is sometimes steep. He stared at the tactical map as several search and recovery craft began searching for hopeful survivors.
XVI
An ancient race of watchers sailed the stars, watching every detail of life. They were guided by a mixture of mysticism and science and they had spent millennia watching and interfering little. Discovering stellar phenomena, they studied every facet of life and followed beautiful comets. One comet in particular was different; its path had altered. They followed the comet, deducing why it had changed its heavenly course. Something was different about this comet.
They discovered that the comet had gained mass. They investigated further and revealed a disgusting mass of metal had collided with the heavenly body and was riding the comet. Curiosity of the foreign body fostered in the crew and the decision was brought forth to bring it aboard. They discovered that it was alive through a combination of luck, genetic and mechanical engineering, and sheer will.
Once aboard, the watchers studied it with increased curiosity. They understood that it could be taken apart to reveal the life underneath. The life inside was comatose and horribly wounded. Their race had never encountered this life form before, but repaired him with their best ingenuity. They patiently waited to see if the life form would regain consciousness on its own as they continued to watch.
***
Commander Bishop ordered another drink as she waited for King. The bartender placed the glass in front of her and asked, “Is there a reason why you stay and drink while the rest of your crew do bounty work?” She brushed him o
ff and toyed with the clear liquid inside the glass. King moved silently around her and sat down beside Bishop. “Cordal reports another victory and more debs than we would need for awhile.” Bishop nodded and swallowed her drink. “We are getting a ragtag force together, it won't be long before we will have what we need to do something serious.”
King nodded in agreement. No one was quite sure of the plan. Bounty and mercenary work was being done to pay the bills to maintain their tiny fleet and keep their skills sharp. The small outpost of Omicron Theta enjoyed their stay with careful eyes. Although the deadly cruiser waited in orbit, keeping any raiders away, it terrified the people with the unknowing intentions of the renegade Guntherians.
“Bishop,” spoke King quietly, “I'm not sure if we can wait another full-cycle.” Bishop eyed her with piercing eyes. “He would have came by now and everyone knew he was on a suicide mission. You have to accept the fact that he might be-”
Bishop slammed her glass on the bar to cut her off and spoke fiercely, “Don't say he is dead.”
***
Unlike a normal Guntherian, Gunthix couldn’t dream. When he slept and woke up later, he had no knowledge of the time in between. The images of the battle haunted him, but he knew he wasn’t dead. He felt cold and lost in his own mind. Everything stayed the same until one moment he was no longer cold. He imagined little children around him with careful, curious eyes. One child stared at him deeply and mouthed the words ‘wake up.’ He complied.
Gunthix’s eyes opened suddenly. The room was dark except for where his body was. He did a careful mental self-check to insure he was alive and decided it was so. The light from above him pierced his gaze and blinded him. He tried to lift himself, but his body declined to assist him. The stare of children chilled his spine as he attempted to search the dark room. A cool hand touched his arm. He followed the hand up the arm and was immersed in a pair of massive and dark eyes.
The owner of the massive eyes was tiny. It was easily short enough to stand below Gunthix’s hip, with gray skin that appeared leathery. Although it was naked, it appeared completely calm and comfortable. The face had no ears or nose and only a tiny mouth. Searching its arms, Gunthix couldn’t see any noticeable muscle or claws. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a predator. More importantly, it was in control.
The mouth began to move slowly and confidently said, “My name is Blue Star.”
Gunthix blinked several times and regained use of his mouth. “My name is Gunthix of Guntheria,” he said slowly, “Why can’t I move?”
Blue Star flicked his eyes in a direction and then centered them on his face. A feeling like a weight being lifted off of Gunthix raged through his body. It felt strange as there was no weight to begin with. He lifted himself slowly and gained an advantage to search the room. No one else appeared to be in the room, but he confirmed the short stature of Blue Star.
Blue Star stood motionlessly as he stared and waited. Gunthix looked at him and asked, “Where am I?”
Blue Star flicked his eyes again and then answered, “You are on board one of our crafts. We are following the path of the comet you were found on.”
Gunthix held his head in his hand and realized he was doing something impossible. He stared at his hand and studied it. It was much darker than the rest of his arm and had a mechanical look to it. He began exercising the fingers as Blue Star spoke again, “We reconstructed it to the best of our knowledge. You were horribly damaged and we have no previous knowledge of your species.” Gunthix nodded as he had never heard of Blue Star’s species either. The universe is big.
Gunthix began examining his body and discovered that a large portion of his body shared a similar fate to his arm. As he searched his body, he became aware of more minute bodies entering the light. Blue Star flicked his eyes again and the room illuminated fully with soft light. Gunthix searched the room and discovered the room was bare except for the more than dozen others surrounding him. One of the newcomers spoke, “I am Dark Moon. I found you.”
Gunthix remained seated in silence. He tried to recollect what had happened since the battle and admitted to himself he didn’t know. He hesitated and then spoke, “Why have you saved me?”
Dark Moon stepped forward and spoke, “We are a race of watchers. We do little to interfere, but when we saw you riding that comet, we saw an ancient prophecy being fulfilled.”
Gunthix could feel tension in the room, but was unsure if it was him or the others in the room. A voice from behind him asked, “Are you a warrior?”
He turned and attempted to discover the source of the question, but the emotionless faces refused to give him any clues. The tall being nodded his head and replied, “I am the greatest.”
***
“I'm telling you Jeffer, they should have used a space compactor,” spoke the pilot of a one man scavenger unit. He was sifting through the debris of the former space station Hephaestus, hoping to find whatever the Empire wanted them to find.
“You never know,“ responded Jeffer, “we might find something useful, Cartho.” A slight beep began echoing in Jeffer's helmet. “I think I got something,” giggled Jeffer as he boosted his suit toward a mass of metal and electrical components that had gathered together through gravity and luck. Cartho changed his trajectory to meet him at the ugly collection.
“Ya,” Cartho spoke, “I'm getting it too. Scans are showing some heat and power still somewhere in there.”
Jeffer began slowly dismantling the mass, sending obviously useless pieces of the station toward their mother ship. After several tense minutes, a perfect sphere emerged from the within the heap of ugly pieces. “Sifter,” Cartho spoke into his helmet, “this is Cartho and Jeffer. I think we found something useful.”
***
Gunthix spent the next several days meditating and adjusting to his saviors. They didn’t operate on a standard day-night cycle as most other races did. Strangely, they didn’t appear to sleep or eat, either. He felt awkward as he was constantly naked. Their race didn’t feel the need for clothes and the atmosphere on the craft maintained itself at a comfortable temperature. His time was spent with either Dark Moon or Blue Star with him at all times. Meditation didn’t give him any answers to the question that they had asked.
He tried to understand them and their technology. The most mysterious nature that was in each room. Although he had walked in one direction, he never found a wall or a door. As he was escorted from each area to another, they simply walked out of the light and into another. He refused to ask, concerned that his curiosity would end the mystery.
“Do you feel wronged when asked to kill?” asked Dark Moon. Gunthix lost track of his meditation by this question. It was the second time that a member of their race had spoken first. “I have killed many in my life,” answered Gunthix, “I am only concerned that I have no weapons.”
Dark Moon flicked his eyes and a hologram of Gunthix appeared. Gunthix turned his head and studied his image. It sat naked and mirrored him perfectly. He stood up and approached it; the image mirrored his stance as he stood. “We are not a people of war,” spoke Dark Moon, “the need to end lives prematurely has never entered our history.”
Gunthix’s naked image suddenly glowed hot white and cooled down as another image. On his lower legs were solid pieces of armor that opened at the bottom with a spike on the outside of each. “Your legs will contain technology that will propel you in space.” His wrists wore gauntlets that had a slight bulge on the outside the curved and formed a fin toward the outside of the elbow. “Your gauntlets will contain your weapons.” On his chest was a massive piece of armor that connected to spaulders on his arms and connected to a separate piece of armor covering his abdomen. The most stunning piece of armor was his helmet. The helmet had a deep ‘V’ as a visor, two fangs that led off of the faceplate, and two thin fins that raced off the back of the helmet. The areas between the pieces of armor were covered with a thick black, themselves covered with symbols and lin
es that glowed faintly.
Dark Moon spoke again, “What we lack in our experience in war; we make up for with our knowledge of it.” The image steadied itself by spreading its legs shoulder width apart and raised an arm. “We studied your technology and attempted to replicate it. Your technology revolves around a form of fusion that vents plasma. This plasma hardens quickly to form predetermined shapes for your weapons or fuel for your jets.” The small bulge on his gauntlet shimmered, disappeared, and silver liquid quickly sprayed out to fill a shape: a Gatling-gun “We deciphered your last combat data and saw this weapon as the most effective.” The barrels of the Gatling-gun shimmered and retracted back into his gauntlet. In its place emerged the head of a rocket. “We also saw this as a valued weapon according to the data.” The rocket retracted and the image resumed a mirror stance of Gunthix. “Your suit will create more fuel and ammunition as it is needed, but constant strain will require you to rest to rebuild your pool of plasma,” spoke the tiny being. He saw the image and understood it as a harbinger of war. These people may not be predators, but this certainly was.
“What is it that you want me to do?” whispered Gunthix.
“We want you to save us,” answered a voice from behind him. He turned and encountered a new version of his benefactors. While all the others were short, it was twice their height. It had long arms and legs that moved with grace. The most striking difference was in the eyes. While the others eyes held no emotion, its eyes contained mercy, compassion, and a look of wonder. It had emotion.
“This is Great Elder Withering Rings,” spoke Dark Moon reverently, “She is our --- I’m not sure how to say it, but you could call her our leader.” She approached Gunthix, towering over him, and placed a long hand on his shoulder.
A powerful image of Scientist Cylos swelled within him as he studied the tall being. “We understand that your people are well versed in warfare,” she spoke matter-of-factually, “but our people never have been. We have left the universe well alone, except in special cases, and the majority of the universe has done the same.” Gunthix contemplated a life without warfare and couldn't fathom it. For Guntherians, war was peace. War was purpose. To them, war was everything.