Echoes of Harmony

Hallow Building

Mornage, Stariek

1 November 3296

Provost Hayden Reid walked down the hall of the Hallow Building’s hundred and fiftieth floor, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. The light gray metal of the floor contrasted the darker walls. Light from the central pillar of the circular building gleamed off every surface. An assortment of people—counselors and aides—made their way back and forth between the dozens of doors on either side of the curved hallway. The dull roar of their footsteps and conversations was an odd comfort to Hayden, easing his nerves as he approached his office, where he dreaded what was waiting for him.

As he reached the plain door, the panel next to it chimed and lit up green as it recognized his CAM signature. The door split down the middle and slid into the walls at either side. Without slowing, he stepped through the opening.

Inside was an office not opulent though not quite spartan. At the far side sat a wall of windows made of a trio of bays separated by metal beams, revealing the sprawling metropolis of Mornage. Potted plants from Stariek’s southern continent just outside the city of Epinau sat in the corner to flank the windows. A holographic picture frame hung from one wall, changing every few seconds between pictures of him, his son, and his wife. Otherwise, the walls were bare.

A desk made of a mixture of wood and metal occupied the center of the room. A holographic computer was built into the top, accessible only by the provost. Two plush arm chairs sat in front of the desk with a high-backed one closer to the windows. The pair nearer the door were currently occupied, as he expected.

In the left chair, sitting nearly on the edge with a straight back, was a woman with black hair that flowed down to the small of her back. She had paler skin, and her brown eyes were accented by epicanthic folds. The woman wore a standard fashion metallic gray dress that flared out across her shoulders with tulip sleeves. A high collar akin to a scarf covered her neck, and long, fingerless gloves went from her wrists to elbows.

To the right was an older man, his hair touched by streaks of gray though not yet giving up its original brown. A bald spot in the center was clearly visible. His tanned skin was mostly covered by a cross between a double-breasted jacket and military-issue jumpsuit. Across his chest were an assortment of medals, and an officer hat sat in his lap.

At Hayden’s entrance, the man stood to attention at once, though his face held a certain amount of reluctance. Hayden smirked at this despite his best efforts to hide it. The woman stood as well, though not with the military precision of the man.

“Secretary Rivas,” Hayden said as he rounded the desk, nodding to the woman. She inclined her head in recognition as Hayden looked to the man, who retook his seat. The provost sat, placing the mug on a wooden coaster with a metallic trim atop the desk. “Fleet Marshal Tyn. Thank you both for coming today. What’s on the agenda?”

“Let’s get right to the meat of it, Provost,” Eli Tyn said, his back ramrod straight. “For your viewing pleasure, I have sent you a copy of the official report. There’s been another attack by the Druthagar on a civilian liner, the Mad Banshee.”

Hayden closed his eyes and formed a fist in his lap under the desk. The damn Druthagar again. This was the third such attack in just the last week alone, each as unprovoked by the last. So far, their fleet was unable to stop the Dwarven pirates from carrying out their raids, which seemed to pop up in a completely different sector of the system each time.

“How many lost this time?” Hayden asked, opening his eyes. With a tap on the top of his desk, he brought the holoprojector to life and pulled up the report. The images and words parted in the center, creating two halves that allowed him to still look directly at Rivas and Tyn.

“Approximately one hundred bodies were recovered from the wreckage,” Naomi Rivas replied. “All had various symptoms of exposure to vacuum. According to the manifest it logged with space traffic control, there were just under five hundred people on board including crew. The rest are unaccounted for, fitting the profile that these people are being captured. We were able to get a visual on the Druthagar ship at least, confirming our suspicions. The remnants of the Mad Banshee were found in the rings of Ailas as the attacker was ferrying vessels to and from the wreckage.”

“What are our options of stopping these attacks?” Hayden looked between Rivas and Tyn. Neither of them said anything for several seconds, prompting Hayden to bang his hand on the metal desk. The noise rang out and filled the room. “This is not a game, people. We need solutions.”

“That is where the Secretary and I disagree, sir,” Tyn said, folding his hands in his lap and shifting uncomfortably. “I believe the best option is to lure the Druthagar into a trap, capture their vessel, and interrogate them. If the reports are to be believed, it strongly suggests it is the same ship carrying out each of these attacks, though we don’t know for what reason. By capturing them, we can learn whatever secrets they have.”

“And I believe this will result in nothing more than putting innocent people in harm’s way.” Rivas glared at the fleet marshal. “We need to up our patrols in sectors where civilian liners are traveling and offer escorts for those who wish for them. Discourage the attacks and either catch them in the act naturally or scare them off.”

Tyn scoffed as Rivas finished talking.

“No matter how much we try, we simply don’t have the budget or fleet size to be everywhere at once. That plan is cowardly and will just get more people killed in the long run.”

“And your plan is devoid of risk?” Rivas laughed mirthlessly, shaking her head. “You act as if there is a guarantee they will fall for the ruse and none of our own will get hurt.”

“Enough.” Hayden pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Tyn and Rivas often held opposite opinions on how to get things done, resulting in Hayden’s constant mediation in ensuring they didn’t rip each other apart. “Fleet Marshal, get me an idea of the plan for a trap and I will consider it. Consider it, Secretary.”

Rivas had opened her mouth to argue but quickly closed it again after being admonished.

“In the meantime, transfer a squadron from the home fleet to the patrol fleet. Make sure the Celestial Phoenix is flaunting its presence and see if we can’t make the effort not worth the risk. Up the number of patrols and ensure constant monitoring of civilian vessels while in the system, especially those carrying large numbers of people.” Hayden tapped his fingers against the desk and looked between the two in front of him. He glanced over the report and found a point that stuck out to him. “Has there been any sign of these attacks as they occur? Any distress signals or the like?”

“There have,” Tyn replied, his straight posture shrinking slightly. “Each of the attacks has been preceded by a distress call by the vessel in question. However, our forces have been stretched thin, and there have been so many false positives, it makes it difficult to investigate each signal.”

“I don’t care how difficult it is or how many false positives there are.” Hayden took a deep breath to hide his growing frustration. It was like dealing with children. Like dealing with his son. Part of him wondered why he didn’t replace the fleet marshal with someone more competent, then another part remembered the political fallout that would follow if he did so. Tyn was simply too entrenched to remove. “These attacks have been going on for over a year now, and we’re no closer to stopping them than we were when they started. You are playing with people’s lives by not treating each distress call with the importance it deserves. If these attacks could have been stopped a long time ago if we had put a little more effort into our investigations…”

Hayden didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He flexed his fingers under the desk, and his foot tapped incessantly against the metal floor as he grappled for the words. Finally, he let out a exasperated sigh.

“Treat each distress call as if it’s the real thing,” Hayden said, looking pointedly at Tyn. “I do not want to receive another report of a preventable disaster because we were worried of wasting our time.”

“Yes, sir,” the fleet marshal replied. The look on his face told Hayden he considered the order a personal insult. Really, Hayden didn’t care what the man thought. He was happy as long as Tyn carried out the orders he was given. “If there is nothing else, may I go make sure your orders are carried out?”

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“Of course,” he waved a dismissive hand, eliciting a scowl from Tyn and a smirk from Rivas. “Both of you are dismissed.”

Both stood and, with a quick bow from each, left the room. Hayden rested one of his hands on his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. Nearly five thousand civilians were taken so far in the attacks. Not a large number in comparison to the few billion on Stariek but certainly significant. He felt sick at the thought of being unable to provide closure to the families effected. They deserved better.

Hayden typed a sequence of commands into his holoprojector, creating a new order to transfer the entirety of the Snow Wyverns to the Celestial Phoenix until further notice. Perhaps their expertise will prove useful. After all, they didn’t become the most elite fighter squadron in the planet’s military for no reason.

Somewhat satisfied, he changed his focus to other reports and issues that cropped up since the previous night. The paperwork never ends, he thought with a smirk.

#

SSV Traveler

Stariek Orbit

2 November 3296

The hangar bay of the Traveler was mostly empty for the early evening shift. A few technicians and engineers walked between different fighters, ensuring maintenance was kept up with on each. Supplies were ferried from end to end. Dull hums and sharp crackles filled the air as each device and craft was slowly and steadily tested. The aromas of ozone and oil mixed with hydraulic fluid and coolant settled through the space. Vibrations from the pounding of metal on metal for repairs ran through the floor. It was just what Lieutenant Ethan Fischer wanted when he needed a free moment to himself.

Fischer slowly walked around the outside of his SF-17 Starhawk, wiping down every available surface with a nanofiber cloth. Flying through asteroid belts always left countless specks of dirt and dings. While he couldn’t do much about the dings, he could at least make it look spotless.

The fighter was approximately twenty-five meters long from tip to tail, and its wingspan measured eighteen meters. It boasted a sleek exterior, narrowing at the cockpit and quickly widening at the midsection. On each wing were four currently empty external hardpoints for missiles. The underside contained a pair of bays capable of holding up to four missiles each. To either side of the front nose cone was a neutron beam cannon, capable of firing nearly three thousand beams per minute.

His fighter was one of sixteen in the hangar bay of the Traveler, though only one of four SF-17s. The rest were the older SF-16 Harrier model, which were unable to hold as many missiles and possessed a lower top acceleration. Each was carefully arranged around the outside in two groups of eight, one on either side of the frigate. They sat ready to turn on their rotating platforms to the outside edge. From there, it could shoot down a short tunnel and into the void.

“Hey, Fischer, did you hear the news?” called out the familiar voice of Ava Bahr. She strolled across the hangar bay wearing a standard gray and black flight jumpsuit for wandering the halls of a ship. A cross on a golden chain hung from her neck. Her black hair was tied into a tight bun on top of her head, accenting the edges of her face. “We’re being transferred.”

“And they didn’t think to tell me first?” Fischer tossed his cloth over his shoulders and rubbed his hands together to remove any dirt. He shook his head in feigned frustration. “What’s the point of being a squadron leader if I have to rely on other people giving me news like that?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell me, per se.” She smiled and leaned against his Starhawk, her back leaving a smudge across the freshly cleaned hull. “You know how rumors spread. A little birdie gives one person a heads up to let them prepare, telling them to keep it on the down low. The more secret it’s supposed to be, the faster it reaches everyone’s ears. Seeing how you’ve been down here with your baby all day, it’s not surprising you haven’t heard yet.”

“Well, did this birdie of yours happen to tell you where we’re being transferred to?” Fischer lightly gripped her bicep and pulled her off his fighter, prompting her to stick out her tongue at him. Whipping the cloth off his shoulder and back to his hand, he cleaned the mark she left.

“The Celestial Phoenix,” she said nonchalantly, as if it were just another news story.

“The Phoenix?” Fischer whistled his surprise, keeping the rag in his hands this time and folding his arms across his chest. The Celestial Phoenix was the largest—albeit only—carrier in the Stariek fleet, capable of carrying over three hundred spacecraft. Its massive hangar bay put that of the Traveler to shame. At just under three years old, it was also the newest ship in service. “Just Alpha Squadron? Any reason why?”

“From what I hear, all the Snow Wyverns are being moved there indefinitely.” She took the cloth from him and wiped away a spot he missed on the port fuselage near the wing. Slowly, she walked further towards the rear of the craft, running the cloth in smooth circles all the way. Once she reached the engines, she whispered, “Something to do with the Druthagar, I bet.”

Her hand stopped as if frozen to the hull when she said the sentence. She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at Fischer, and he could read the silent question in the look. He sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his own flight suit, taking a step closer to her before hesitating and stopping.

“I know I was acting irrationally,” Fischer mumbled. He turned in a little circle, his mind fighting for the right words to say. A well of emotions bubbled up, threatening to overwhelm him before he pushed them back down. “It was wrong and totally unprofessional. But you know what happened to Elina. You understand why I acted the way I did, right?”

“Yes, but not everyone is going to, Ethan.” She turned and looked him in the eye. “You’re the leader of Alpha Squadron. We need you to be the glue that holds us together. If you’re not going to keep a level head when the going gets rough, who is?”

“Would you be able to keep a level head when you find your fiancée, the person you expect to spend the rest of your life with, their body bloated, floating through space?” He kept his voice low, staring back at her. The image of the moment he found Elina came to his mind. He fought to keep his roiling emotions from overflowing, to keep his voice calm. “When you find her with skin burned and blistered from UV radiation? With froth coating her cheeks and chin after her saliva and tears boiled away?”

Saying the words caused the memory to flash as he took in every detail of that day. It was one he knew he would never forget. If he could only find the Druthagar ship who did that to her, there was no force in the galaxy that would be able to get between him and it. He promised Elina that much, and he never broke a promise to her.

“No, I suppose not,” Bahr said. She moved forward and gripped his wrist lightly. “If you need to talk to someone about it, just remember I’m here for you.”

Fischer watched Bahr go in silence. When she was through the hangar bay door and out of sight, he reached into his pocket. From within, he pulled a golden band engagement ring. A lab manufactured diamond sat in the claw-like setting, glistening as he looked it over in the light. On the inside was an engraving reading “Forever.”

“I’ll find them one day, Elina,” he whispered. His fingers clutched tightly around the ring. “I promise you, I’ll make it right.”

#

Lionhill Park

Mornage, Stariek

22 July 3295

Ethan Fischer laughed as Elina Austen pulled him up the hill, their bare feet slipping in the dewy grass. With each breath he took, a feeling of refreshment went through his body. The sun sat just below the horizon. Beams of red and orange and yellow mingled with the dark blue sky. Wispy streaks of clouds made their way across the sky, creating thin barriers that caught the first rays of light.

A single oak tree rose from the top of the hill. Its thick trunk and sprawling branches provided a frequent getaway spot for the couple. Their feet carefully danced over its roots which spread like tendrils across the grass and down the sides of the hill. Each step was familiar, as if it were the back of his hand. His body instinctively knew where to go. It felt like a magnet was pulling him to the top.

When they reached the top, Elina grabbed both of his hands in hers, looking into his eyes. Her smile radiated warmth into him, and he couldn’t help but return it. They spun together, holding tight to each other, for several seconds until she let go. She spun in place a moment longer as Ethan collapsed to the ground. His arm brushed the edge of one of the tree roots, just barely missing it. Before he could get up, she fell down next to him. He jerked his other arm away just in time to keep her from crushing it.

Elina curled up next to him. The smell of her strawberry shampoo wafted to his nose. Her brown hair splayed out around her head, brushing against his cheeks and stabbing at his eye until his repositioned his own head slightly. He draped his arm across her shoulders and under her head, savoring each moment of contact.

“Do you really have to leave?” Ethan asked. His voice was quiet as he nuzzled his head closer to hers. “What am I going to do without you?”

“Probably the same thing you did before you met me. Just remember to do your laundry every now and again.” She laughed and reached up to squeeze his hand. “I’ll be back in five months. You can survive on your own until then. Besides, your parents are just a fifteen minute drive away if you need them.”

“I think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. You’ve taught me a lot more than you think, you know.”

“If you say so.” She made a show of rolling her eyes as she toyed with the golden ring on her left hand. The diamond sparkled as the sun continued rising into the sky. Ethan still couldn’t believe he managed to convince her to marry him, even if the wedding wasn’t until December when she returned.

“Why couldn’t you just go to a school in Mornage? There are plenty to choose from.”

“Yeah, but none of them have a biotechnology program as good as the University of Siatia.” She sighed, folding her hands atop her stomach. “Their engineering wing is unlike anything I’ve seen before. Besides, Siatia’s the only ecumenopolis created by humans. Imagine what it must be like to live there.”

“Sounds like it’s missing a whole lot of trees.” Ethan gestured to the oak tree nearby with his free hand. Elina promptly reached up and snatched it, holding tight. He kissed her cheek then rested his head against hers. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“Of course. The Forest Hill is one of the safest transports on this side of the galaxy, and Siatia has robust social programs. Crime is pretty much unheard of there. There’s nothing to fret about.”

“I’ll still be worrying every night, you know.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Ethan.”

She turned her head to look him in the eye. He brought his head closer to hers and kissed her on the lips. It lasted barely a second, but it was enough for him to close his eyes and wish for the moment to never end. He pulled away and returned his gaze to the sky wondering how he got so lucky.

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