Wandering Path stared at the faint glow of the shield that protected the Cosmic Lotus from stray matter in its path. That glow had been growing a lot stronger lately, indicating that it was having to deflect far more material than in all the years that they had been travelling so far. It represented a greater drain on their power source than anticipated, but although it was not at a level to be concerned about yet, the rate at which the space dust was increasing was cause for concern.
“You say that you know what’s causing this, Starry?” Wandering asked without taking his eyes from the screen.
“I believe so, and answered another question at the same time.”
“What question was that?”
“You know how the sky is a dark purple normally? Well, although you can’t currently see that directly due to the distortions of relativity, the TESS was modified to compensate for those distortions. This allowed my department to study the stars as we passed by them. We recently had our closest approach to the last star before we reach the Far Star, and we noticed that the sky was changing color. In fact it was getting redder, the same red as the star we just went by. When we investigated further, we found that some patches of sky further away were bluer than others. We finally realized that what we were seeing was the light of the star being reflected by a cloud of matter, presumably dust like that which we are passing through right now, only denser. The fairly even distribution of red and blue stars reflecting their mixed light off this cloud has resulted in the soft purple glow that has filled the night sky for as long as we have known it.”
Wandering turned to Starry, a little shocked. “Are you saying that we are heading for a wall of dust? What will happen if we hit that wall at our current speed?”
“I suspect that the shield would be overwhelmed, but there’s no need to panic. The majority of the increased glow you are seeing comes from increased amount of hydrogen and helium atoms which our shield deflects harmlessly. While it’s true that we have been experiencing an increased rate of actual ‘dust’ collisions with larger particles, we made careful measurements, and as best as we could determine, the Far Star is located well before the dust density becomes a significant danger. However, you are overlooking one hugely significant possibility.”
“You’re the astronomer, Starry, not me. Spell it out for me.”
“If the sky represents a wall of dust, and Equus and all the stars we know are inside a bubble within a cloud, how much is there within, or even on the other side of that cloud?”
Wandering blinked as his mind was boggled by the thought. “Wow! We may have stumbled upon far more than we have ever dreamed.”
Starry smirked at her mate. “Yeah, that’s putting it mildly. This voyage is already starting to pay off in ways we hadn’t anticipated. The thing is – will we be able to do anything about that windfall once we reach the Far Star?”
“I regret that I won’t be able to answer that until we get there. Right now though, I need to determine if we need to start decelerating sooner to compensate for the amount of dust we’re going to pass through.”
Starry frowned and gave Wandering a serious look. “The best option would be to use the Far Star’s light hitting the solar sail to slow us down, allowing us to conserve resources.”
Wandering nodded. “And it still is. Can you give me some sort of estimate of what we will be encountering between here and the Far Star?”
“I thought you might ask, so I prepared that data for you.”
Wandering grinned. “Heh! You read my mind.”
“Execute course correction,” Wandering ordered.
Playbitz addressed the A.I. “CONN, rotate ship 7.4 degrees counter-clockwise and give me a 2.4 second burn on vectoring nozzle two.”
“Confirm rotation negative 7.4 degrees and course adjustment on vectoring nozzle two for 2.4 seconds,” the AI paraphrased.
“Instruction confirmed. Execute.”
The familiar sound of the attitude jets was heard briefly until the programmed burn was finished.
“Course correction completed, Captain,” Playbitz reported.
“Thank you, Playbitz. Starry – are you happy with the course now?”
The alicorn mare frowned. “Something is still off kilter. Triangulating from the readings of our last course correction, the light from the Far Star seems to be emanating from a point that is at least a light-day or two in front of where we measure the star to be.”
“That doesn’t seem possible,” Wandering replied.
“Maybe, but that’s what my instruments are telling me.”
“What if something unknown is distorting that distance measurement? We can’t afford to overshoot our target. Even if we slow down a lot, if we are still decelerating with the more distant goal in mind, we could end up wasting a lot of time and mana bringing ourselves to a halt, and then backtracking if the nearer distance is what we should be aiming for.”
“I’m sorry, Captain, but at the moment, I can’t give you a more accurate answer. The data just does not make sense. If you want a recommendation though, I say aim for the nearer point. It’s better than overshooting, and that would give us more time to study why we are getting such strange data. If these readings are accurate, it would solve one mystery though.”
Wandering raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Starry continued. “If the light of the Far Star really is coming from a point source fixed in space, that would explain why, despite having planets, the Far Star doesn’t show any ‘wobble’.” She nodded with conviction. “You remember how I’ve been fairly interested in finding out how this could be possible.”
The captain broke out in a wide smile. “You mean how you’ve been obsessed about it night and day since long before this mission started.”
The alicorn narrowed her eyes and flicked one ear irritably. “Yes, that.”
Wandering’s eyes twinkled for a moment before he resumed a more professional expression. “Since that was the final course correction before re-opening the sail, we’re ready to start the deceleration immediately. Give us your best estimate of where to aim for, and Playbitz can calculate the optimum braking program.”
Playbitz turned around in his chair to address Wandering. “I hope that you realize that this dust we have been encountering will complicate those calculations. Even with you reducing our mass to virtually zero, that miniscule amount left over will feel the impact of dust particles that will be hitting us at close to the speed of light. While they in turn will have their effective mass reduced, that’s still a spectacular amount of energy.”
Almost on cue, a deep note sounded through the hull, the result of a minute particle that had managed to force its way past the magic shield and impact upon the thick forward armoring.
Wandering nodded. “Good point. We’re going to have to be cautious when unfurling the sails. Once they are fully open, we will have a much better idea of what we are up against. Who knows? It might end up a blessing in disguise. Instead of expending a lot of our mana supply to power light bombs to use on the sail, the dust might help considerably.”
“Or it might incur damage to the sails,” Commander Bluequill pointed out.
“It might,” Wandering conceded, “but it’s not as if we have a choice in the matter. The sail is our sole means of decelerating from our present speed, so it has to be deployed. We will do so cautiously though, and the sooner that we start, the thinner the dust will be, and the quicker we will get data upon which to make an informed decision. I will leave that to you, Commander, as you’re the engineering expert. Once you are sure that we have a sustainable approach, you can work out with Playbitz our best course of action.”
“Aye, Captain,” the griffon replied.
Wandering leaned back in his command chair and smiled. “Ladies and Gentlebeings – things are about to get real interesting.”
They thought that it was a perfectly feasible plan. While there was no longer anything that they could do about Halcyon or Pax, the slow nature of the Swarm ships would make them a ready target for a fleet of fast Federation starships. Crews were trained with advanced evasion tactics that would see them concentrate on the safety of their ships before trying to destroy any of the enemy. Hard-won experience had shown that even a glancing hit from the unknown plasma weapon could do untold secondary damage, frequently incapacitating a starship in spite of not making a direct hit upon critical equipment. How this happened was just as big a mystery as the nature of the plasma itself. While the Ultimax had in fact gotten off very easily, many other Federation ships had not fared so well. Frustrated with the loss of ships and personnel, Star Fleet temporarily suspended operations against the Swarm until its new attack squadron was ready.
After the strike force had engaged the Swarm fleet, the operation was considered a huge success. While the progress had been slow, the Federation fast cruisers steadily whittled down the enemy, eventually destroying the last of their ships. Only a couple of the Fleet ships had sustained some minor damage, and with zero loss of lives. The authorities breathed a sigh of relief. That was only to last a few days. Scouts brought the news that another Swarm fleet was coming, no less than five times the size of the first. The Swarm was fanatical, but not stupid. Their ships travelled close together, forcing the Federation ships into greater danger in their attempts to launch a fatal attack upon them. No amount of evasion could keep them out of the Swarm’s battle sights for long, and Star Fleet started losing ships again. While the hit-and-run tactics were still effective, the opportunities to strike were far fewer, and the battle dragged on for days. Eventually the Federation won the engagement, but at the loss of half their strike force. It was time to go back to base and lick their wounds. Even the knowledge that they had saved the Valhalla colony was barely enough to bolster the spirits of the weary warriors. However, at last they had their hands on a few of the enemy’s ships. While the sheer viciousness of the fight had obliterated most of the marauders’ starships, three were intact enough to study and they took them in tow, mindful that the Swarm crews would likely still be extremely dangerous to any boarding party. It came as a shock when all three self-destructed by virtue of releasing their anti-matter containments, leaving nothing worth examining.
A month later, Star Fleet Command was aghast to learn that a third Swarm fleet was approaching Valhalla from another vector. Size estimates ranged from ten to twelve times that of the original. One thing was perfectly clear – there was no way that the Federation could fight that with high-speed strike and evade tactics alone. Fortunately the Science Corps had not assumed that their troubles with the Swarm were over, and they had been feverishly developing new weapons, chief among which were the warp-drive enabled nuclear missiles that could be remotely piloted. Production was prioritized while the colonists on Valhalla nervously awaited action from Star Fleet. However, recognizing that a half-baked response might reduce the effectiveness of the assault against their implacable enemy, Fleet Command held back until it was deemed that they had a sufficient quantity of them. Dreadnoughts hauled the missiles into range and launched them all in a huge deadly salvo. The first few missiles struck, destroying their targets completely, but to the shock of the remote watchers, the rest of the Swarm vessels reacted nearly instantly, bringing up defenses of their own. Energy beams intercepted missile after missile even as they dropped out of warp. While at least half of them still got through and found their targets, a large portion of the invaders avoided destruction and continued on to their goal.
An emergency session of the Federation High Council was held in conjunction with Star Fleet Command. The military arm of the Federation had to concede that it could not guarantee that they could stop the Swarm before it reached Valhalla. Virtually all the stockpile of missiles had been used in the assault upon the Swarm, and even if they had time to build more, it was doubtful as to their effectiveness. Whatever their shortcomings in FTL travel, the aliens’ other systems were more than competent, capable of detecting and intercepting the missiles with alarming regularity. Other weapons were untested and not ready yet, giving the Council no other option. They ordered the evacuation of Valhalla. This time it was mandatory, with special teams sent out to gently but firmly remove recalcitrant colonists from the planet. A few obsessive fools managed to hide from the authorities, but in the end, only a handful of beings died when the Swarm finally reached Valhalla.
Clad only in her normal uniform, albeit in active protection mode, Techbird made her way out onto one of the eight solar sail booms. The sails were attached to it with carbon fiber cables via motorized pulleys that could tension or relax to warp the sails to the optimum angle for propulsion. The uniform’s protective spells sustained her living crystal body even better than it would an organic one, and she took a moment to enjoy the unequaled freedom of movement that it gave her here, surrounded by nothing but the vast emptiness of space. No bulky spacesuit was interposed between her and the ever-closing Far Star. She could sense the abysmal cold without being affected by it, and in her imagination, she could feel the cosmic wind blowing in her crystalline feathers. She spread her wings to revel in it for a long moment before she sighed and brought her attention back to the reason that she was outside the ship. Carefully, Techbird made her way up the sail boom.
One of the adjustment motors had failed, and Techbird had volunteered to replace it. The space environment was far more hazardous than it had ever been due to the constantly increasing amount of dust travelling at relativistic speed, and it was a big risk to a regular crewperson. She, however, had a far more rugged form, and while she would not appreciate a hyperkinetic impact, she could survive it. She reached the housing of the pulley motor and shook her head in dismay at the sight of a gaping hole through it. A tiny fleck of matter had done all that damage, and during the few remaining months of their journey, it was likely that they would get many more impacts. Already the sails had several punctures, but due to their thinness, the affected areas were only a few centimeters wide, and with a sail that was measured in square kilometers, their performance was virtually unchanged. The inability to warp the sails for steering was a problem though.
Techbird muttered imprecations at the vagaries of fate that had led to one of the most important features of the enormous sail mechanism being hit. The damage to the housing made it difficult to prize it apart, but eventually it swiveled open with a screech of tortured metal that she only ‘heard’ through conduction of the material of the boom. With the unit exposed, she operated a clamping device to secure the cable before proceeding with the repair. Tethered to her waist were a number of tools, and she detached the pulley from the motor with them. Next she unbolted the ruined motor, disconnected its power and control cables, and pulled the massive mechanism out of its enclosure. She could see now that the projectile, while doing enormous damage to the motor, had failed to penetrate it completely. Apparently the offending speck had lost too much momentum while passing through the shield that it had failed to hit as hard as other impacts had. The point was moot though because the unit was no more useable for having been hit less hard. Techbird secured it to the boom before tugging on the line that was attached to the replacement unit. Magnets had weakly held it to the hull until she was ready, and now it floated over to her. Allowing for the inertia of its great mass, the crystal griffon brought the motor to a halt, and then maneuvered it into the enclosure. After connecting the wiring harness, bolting the mechanism into place, and reattaching the pulley, she released the cable clamp.
Touching a button on the sleeve of her uniform, she said, “Techbird to bridge. Replacement motor has been installed successfully. Ready for testing.”
“Acknowledged, Tech. Stand by while we run the tests,” came Commander Bluequill’s voice.
Techbird watched as the motor came to life, pulling the cable in, then letting it out again. This happened three times before it halted and the commander’s voice came to her again.
“Diagnostics show normal operational parameters. You may finish up now, Techbird.”
“Acknowledged, bridge. Closing up now.”
Techbird forced the recalcitrant cover closed and latched it securely. Reaching into a pocket of her uniform, she pulled out a roll of silver-blue sheeting. She carefully stretched it over the hole in the cover and molded it to conform to every curve of the surface of the panel. Then she pulled out a small cube from a separate pocket and laid it upon the sheet, activating the spell with which it was imbued. There was a flash and the sheet turned purple and went rigid, welded into place. Satisfied with the result, the griffoness then made her way back down the boom, towing the destroyed unit with her to have it recycled. She attached it to the same magnets that had held its replacement before detaching its towline from her belt and securing it to one of the ship’s tie points next to the airlock. Having done that to her satisfaction, she then started walking up the length of the ship, much more nimbly than when Steam Shift had done the same years ago. She reached the foremost point of the starship and then secured herself to a tie point. Only then did she relax and allow herself to enjoy the grandeur of the scenery.
Surrounding her was the purple, blue, and red of the mysterious dust wall, broken only by the faint glow of the magic shield that protected the ship from the matter that it was deflecting away. This was punctuated by a brilliant point of light that was the Far Star. Of course the star’s color was a bit deceptive because of the blue-shift of the radiation that it emitted, but it was nonetheless the beacon that had beckoned them onwards for many years. Now that they were at last slowing down to rendezvous with the Far Star, that destination was feeling more and more real, and closer to answering the question that she had been asking since she was little more than a teenager. She lay down with her back to the hull and gazed upon the star, trying to wrest its secrets by will alone.
The sound of little bells made her ears twitch. The impossibility of hearing anything in the vacuum of space did not stop her from turning her head towards the apparent source of that sound. A grey unicorn stallion with a long beard, clad only in a dark blue cape and hat from which the bells dangled, smiled at her before taking a seat beside her. Techbird noted that his clothing, appropriately, was decorated light blue crescent moons and yellow stars. He looked up at the same scene that Techbird had been watching moments before.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?”
The fact that he should not be even able to breathe let alone speak did not seem to bother the unicorn who seemed very familiar to Techbird, although she would swear that she had never met him before. She considered his question in spite of that. “Is it though?”
“What do you see?” he responded.
“What do I see, or what do I know is there?”
He grinned as he turned to her. “An even better question!”
“I see what used to be featureless purple sky, a universe of stars behind me, and the only star that matters in front of me. I know that there have to be unified physical laws of the universe, and we can explain everything we can see except the Far Star. If we figure out that star, everything else will fall into place.”
“Ah, I see. You know, not once, have you asked who I am or what I’m doing here.”
“It could be one of two things; either I’m talking to myself and I’m starting to go mad, or you are an unknown aspect, another part of the Puzzle. If the first, there is nothing I can do about it, and if the latter, I’m already working on it, so it is not worth worrying about.”
The unicorn chuckled as his horn lit up, and a rolled piece of paper sealed within a bottle appeared by her crystal talons. “A pragmatic view, to say the least, but nonetheless efficient.”
Techbird looked down to the bottle. “What’s this?”
“You may hit a roadblock while trying to work out the ultimate answer to your Puzzle. The message within is both a clue and a signpost,” he replied in a sly tone.
Techbird’s eyes lit up with excitement at the unicorn’s words, and she turned to face him only to be met by nothing but an uninterrupted view of the sky. She looked back down towards her talons, but the bottle was still there. She grasped it hastily, but to her relief, it did not fade like the pony phantasm. She pushed it inside a pocket in her uniform, sealed it, and started making her way back when she was startled by another voice, a much more prosaic one however.
“Bridge to Techbird – are you having any problems?”
“Negative, bridge,” she replied.
“As you had not re-entered the ship, we were beginning to wonder.”
Techbird could sense the reproach in Bluequill’s voice. “Sorry, Commander, but I am bringing in something that might excuse my tardiness.”
“And what would that be, Techbird?”
The elderly griffoness gave a childlike giggle. “A note from my teacher, sir.”
There was silence on the comm for a long moment before Bluequill responded. “I’ll wait until you report to me before I try to make sense of that. Bridge out.”
Techbird grinned as she hastened back to the airlock. She looked forward to him trying to do that!
The bottle was stoppered by what seemed to be an ordinary cork, although Starry felt an old enchantment dissolve as she used her magic to remove it and extract the paper from the bottle while Techbird told them about her encounter.
“You’ve just described Starswirl the Bearded,” Starry said, skepticism strong in her voice.
“I described an apparition – you identified him,” Techbird said pointedly.
“In any case, Starswirl died centuries ago, and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be out here at the edge of the known universe, chatting with griffons on the bow of a starship!”
“I never said he did, but isn’t it possible that a long-dormant sophisticated spell was triggered by our presence here?”
“What? Nearly forty light-years from Equus? Impossible!”
“And yet Destined can teleport this far. Why not Starswirl?”
“There’s nothing here!”
“No, but it’s on a direct path to the Far Star. I believe it’s an indication that we are on the correct path to learn all the answers to our questions.”
“We don’t need an indication! We’re going to the Far Star anyway!”
“Starswirl said this note would help solve the Puzzle.”
“A note that is indecipherable,” Starry grumbled, waving the offending piece of ancient parchment in front of the griffoness.
“He said that it would be a clue toward solving the Puzzle when I encountered a block to my path to understanding. It can wait.”
“How do we know that you did not make that bottle yourself to prank us?” Command Bluequill suddenly spoke up.
Techbird glared at the blue griffon, and although he was bigger and stronger than the hen, Bluequill wilted before the gaze of the she-griff who was twice his age. “I am a scientist, not a prankster. I observe, I collect evidence, I make hypotheses, and I test my ideas. I do not make bottles or invent foal’s tales.”
Starry reached out with her wing to enfold the irate crystal griffon. “Sorry if we upset you, Tech. It’s just that this is so far-fetched that I am having a hard time getting my head around it. I’m just going to accept what you say for now and hope that things become clearer later. I suggest that you discuss it with Wandering and write up a full report. Send it along with pictures of the bottle back to Equus. Perhaps they will have some insight.”
Techbird nodded. “That seems sensible. Now if you will excuse me, I am weary from my work today. I bid you goodnight.” The griffoness slipped free of Starry’s wing-hug and exited the bridge.
After she had gone, Bluequill looked at Starry and asked, “Do you believe her story at all?”
Starry sighed. “Commander, I may be an alicorn and powerful with magic, but Starswirl was reputed to be unsurpassed in the magical arts. If anypony could do this, he could.”
“So you do believe her.”
“There’s one thing that I can’t refute.”
“The bottle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“While we were talking, I cast an analysis spell on it. It’s at least a couple of millennia old – far older than I can determine, but I also detected the remnants of a preservation spell when I opened it. Techbird was right about one thing at least – we were meant to find it. Whoever actually put it in her talons must have had the means and a reason to do so. Hopefully Techbird will learn that reason.”
Bluequill settled back down in the command chair, grumbling under his breath. “Let me stick to the hardware. I’ll leave the mumbo-jumbo to you magic-users.”
Starry grinned, winked at the other bridge crew who had been discreetly following the conversation, and replied, “We’re all magic-users, even grouchy griffons.”
The griffon merely snorted and let the subject drop.
Star Fleet Command was frustrated. In the years since Valhalla had been lost to the Swarm, they had been trying every conceivable idea to deal with the inexorable advance of the alien enemy, only to be quickly countered. Remotely guided gravity-bomb equipped missiles worked to disable the alien ships in warp right up until the Swarm started intercepting them before they could even reach the enormous convoy. All remote real-space offensive tactics were severely reduced in effectiveness within months of being put into action. Close-in attacks worked, but left the attacking vessels vulnerable to the mysterious plasma fire. A material was found that was fairly resistant to it, and this was used to armor swift fighters, but resistant was not the same as impervious. Two strikes in the same place were enough to cause it to fail. Many brave fighter pilots had died finding that out. Many still took their chances, playing the odds that they would not take a double hit anywhere. Because of the sheer number of enemy ships and their tendency to concentrate fire on a limited number of Federation ships at a time, it was near suicidal to try, but Star Fleet Command did not order the practice to stop. They could not afford to. Many millions of people of many races were depending on them.
They ended up adopting part of the enemy’s tactics – sheer numbers. They built great quantities of fighters, missiles, bombs, armor, and anti-matter clouds. They even threw rocks. Of course the rocks were asteroids massing gigatonnes, but once accelerated into the midst of the enemy fleet, they could neither be easily diverted nor destroyed, and because they were plain rock, they were exceedingly difficult to detect in deep space until too late. The Swarm’s advance was slowed considerably, but still more ships came to replace the destroyed ones, and they drew ever closer to Chakona. With enormous reluctance, the Federation Council ordered evacuation plans to be drawn up for that world in the event that Star Fleet could not find a solution. At the current rate of approach, they had little more than five years to stop their implacable foe.
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