The Andromeda Effect: Stellar Flash Book Two
By Neil A. Hogan
Chapter 10
Hogart headed for the Center bridge, worried about their impending situation. As a technologically augmented human, he was quite happy to rely on his software implants, external A.I. inputs, and information from his crew to help him predict future events, as he always knew that, no matter how accurate they may sound, nothing was set in stone. But, he had a hard time dealing with the idea that deaths for many aliens were predetermined before birth.
Of course, if he really wanted to know when his would be, he could simply request access to the universal mind on Frequency Seven, hear from versions of his future self, then choose which life path to take that would lead to that destiny.
But Hogart liked his restrictive existence. There was a vaguely pleasantly relaxing feeling about believing that everything in the future could change, and that he could somehow live forever.
Knowing Ssyrer and five others were going to die on this mission was quite disturbing. He didn’t want to lose any of the crew, ever. But, occasionally, it happened.
His mind took him back to a time when his close friend and co-guard, while escorting one of the galaxy’s many empresses, was struck down by a neurotoxic bullet when he was the first to exit the passenger drone. Even though the memory had faded in the past twenty years, Hogart still clenched his fist in anger from the loss.
Since then, many had died as he had risen up the ranks, but it was usually the frontline soldiers, or people several positions removed. The further up he went, the further away he was from death.
He hadn’t been in the firing line for a long time.
But this new job, as captain of the Stellar Flash, meant there were only vague levels between everyone. More scientific than military, the First Contact mission also meant that chains of command were there purely to enable easier organization. All the crew were important people from their own races, and in that sense, everyone was his equal. It also meant that he would get to know all of them by the end of their seven-year mission, and any deaths would be felt quite keenly.
He only had himself to blame, of course. One of the things that got him this position was his interest in experimenting with new policies and procedures. He’d agreed to the recall chip implant. He’d agreed to be the first ship to test receiving death memos. He’d agreed to so many other things.
Introducing the update that there would be deaths, meant that Hogart now had an opportunity to avoid the situation, and not meet those crew members who were due to die, or actively seek them out and be a counsellor to them.
But, would he really be counselling them, or merely relieving himself of guilt?
And then, of course, it was unknown what time they would die. His natural human instinct made him uncomfortable attempting to meet them anytime soon. He didn’t want to be there at that moment, though as Captain, perhaps he should be.
But Ssyrer was special. He’d met her after their previous mission, and they’d had quite a chat in the station bar.
The news had been saddening.
Hogart decided, then and there, that knowing that there were going to be deaths should never be told to someone running a mission. He would submit a report as soon as he got back with that recommendation advising of the distraction, and how it would impair his ability to command.
Not to mention worrying about the impending video messages he would need to create for their families.
And then, there was one that was listed as anonymous. 300 people on board, and any of them could die at any moment.
He looked down the corridor towards the Center entrance. It was a bit of a walk for most humans. He could have just flashed there, but the idea of long corridors for able-bodied humans was to keep everyone fit. And, that was so important when many spent years in space in different gravity environments.
The International Coalition also encouraged wide spaces. They advised the humans should always be given plenty of opportunity for thinking time. Ideas came in moments of solitude, meditation and relaxation, and if the human race was to survive another thousand years, these break times must always be included. With humans reducing recreation, eating, and bathroom times, sometimes the only time they could think clearly was on a long and boring walk.
He looked down the corridor again. Almost there. What else did he have to think about?
That picture John had sent him.
The image he had seen of the Stellar Flash, and that asteroid not far away, was concerning. The evidence was there that they would arrive. He couldn’t change any of it. But would they return?
He should his head. He had to concentrate on the mission ahead.
His main crew looked at him as he entered the Center, and he knew, even with their alien body language, that there was some semblance of concern. They’d worked with humans long enough to pick up on a few things.
In just a few hours he had been captured, tortured, escaped, regenerated, updated on a mission, told six crew members were going to die, and now he was about to time travel back 2.5 million years to another galaxy, probably in the middle of an ancient interstellar war.
A normal day at the office.
“Getting up to speed is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” he said aloud, rubbing his eyes. He turned to Spiney. “So, your rescue with the new system was what stripped my skin, not anything the Florans did?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” said Spiney. “We were attempting to find a way to avoid what had happened last time you were trapped – when you got glued to a wall on the Mushbug’s planet in Frequency One.”
Hogart could barely remember the situation, as it had been within a frequency level that was difficult for humans to recall, but according to the reports, he hadn’t been able to move as his nanite suit had been stuck. This new experiment should have enabled him to escape from any trapped situation safely, even if his nanite suit couldn’t.
If it had worked properly.
“I could have lost more than my hair!” He adjusted his pants, feeling uncomfortable.
“Anything you lose can be grown back,” stated Spiney, “as long as you don’t lose your life.”
“I think we just need to go back to flash bands for the time being. While no one really cares these days if someone is bald, I personally care. I like my hair. I don’t want to keep losing it every time I need to escape from somewhere.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Hogart turned to the rest of the Center crew. “Alright, I’m sure everyone has read the mission briefing. I’ve also received some additional intel. It’s possible we’ll be under attack the moment we arrive.”
“Ready to flash when you are, Sir,” said Tonderai.
Hogart nodded, then blinked. Things were blurred. He was in the corridor, and then…
Where was he? Aliens standing at white terminals. An attractive, green humanoid girl at the far end, staring at him – Tonderai. A 360-degree surround screen with an image of Saturn, looking up at them.
Oh. On the ship. The Stellar Flash.
Things seemed blurry, warped. Translated voices echoed.
Was he feeling faint? He reached a hand up to rub his temple and almost missed. Probably the after effects of everything. That hit on the head from the Floran. He touched his temple, confusedly. No bump? Amy must have fixed it quickly.
His security officer, Puppy, looking more like a giant spider with twelve legs, waggled the back of his head slightly. For his frightening bulk and alienness, he was probably the most human among them. Puppy was at the other end facing outward, but his back eyes were continually observing. Were they showing concern?
Of course, Puppy was used to hairy beings like himself, and Hogart had just lost all his hair. He guessed he might be a little bit more worried about him than usual.
Hogart blinked. Again he’d lost focus. What was he about to do? He shook himself again. Had the Florans done something to him?
He called up his mind-view system again. All hormone levels that helped focus thought, and even his dopamine levels, seemed to be normal, though dopamine was on the lower side.
Lack of exercise, probably. The corridor wasn’t enough.
He looked at his crew again. What did Torus do again? Was it Geo or Torus that was the astrophysicist? Cuddly was communications, and his second officer, but Spiney was his First Officer, and what? Advisor? Ideas man?
He clenched his fist in frustration. He couldn’t command like this.
There was an option he hadn’t used before. Template Hogart. All the basic memories he needed to be able to captain a crew. He tapped into it. His previous copy-self could take over while he worked this out
For a moment it was strange relinquishing control to a copy version of his memories, but eventually he found it soothing. He saw his arms and body move from behind his eyes, not worrying about anything, knowing his robot-like self would be even more efficient than he could ever be.
His copy-consciousness placed his physical hand on the white panel in front of him ready to send a message.
“I might even have a quick nap,” Hogart thought to himself. “I should have delegated to myself before.”
“All personnel,” he heard himself say, accessing recent memories. “We are about to jump into deep time. This mission back to 2.5 million years ago is strictly off the public record. We don’t want civilian Terrans knowing it’s this easy to time travel. As usual, Earth Council will be recording your thoughts via Greg and our Storyteller system. Thank you. Get ready for flash jump.”
He then took his hand off the screen and pointed at Tonderai. “Over to you, um, Officer Tonderai.”
She looked quizzically at him for a moment, then nodded and closed her eyes. Her green and olive face seemed to waver slightly as she linked completely with the ship’s Higher Intelligence and its A.I., then activated the flash jump drive.
The split central pole began flickering with white streaks of light, as the energy for the flash jump built. Then a white sphere of dark energy and liquid light began expanding from the gap in the center, mini vortexes creating faintly colorful swirls on its surface as it enveloped the control room. The light expanded through the walls, across the entire ship, and filled the triangular craft with a bright light, before swallowing the structure.
Outside the Stellar Flash, a spherical energy field formed around it, isolating it from the rest of the universe. Moments later, the ship disappeared from the Solar System.
It briefly appeared outside space/time in a grey nothingness void known as the template level reality, reconfirmed its path to a nearby galaxy, adjusted for the new space-time differential, then reemerged in deep time, 2.5 million Terran years ago.
Inside, the energy had dissipated. On the surround screen, Saturn had disappeared, the image now replaced by a massive blue star, the intense light suddenly turning everyone into vague shadows.
And, immediately, the firing began.
“Shields at maximum!” yelled copy-Hogart. “Confirm location!”
“The Stellar Flash has unlimited power,” said Spiney. “They’re always at maximum. Also, the external hull is slightly out of phase with the rest of the universe so, unless the attacking ship is made of the same material, or utilizes similar exotic particles, none of their weapons can penetrate.”
The original Hogart temporarily overrode his copy-self. “Oh, of course! Just making sure.” His copy-self backup didn’t have all the updates. Perhaps he couldn’t take that nap after all.
“Location and time zone confirmed,” said Tonderai. “Area NGC 206 of the Andromeda Galaxy, about 2.5 million years ago. Current space-time vibrating at 180 cycles per second.”
Hogart took a breath, and tried to focus on the bright shadows in front of him. “Almost Frequency One. Right. We might forget some of this. So, who is firing on us? And could someone dim that sun?”
“Dimming now, Sir,” said Geo, reaching out one of his drop shapes and sending the thought to his panel.
The star light dulled, and the room returned to normal brightness. Geo then redirected the focus of the surround screen, and it zoomed in on a small asteroid heading towards them. Fiery green bolts were shooting out of the front of it, and the Stellar Flash was pulsing with each impact, reestablishing its path again and again as the collisions tried to knock it into a trajectory towards the star.
Was it a mobile military base?
Then Hogart noticed the funnels sticking out from behind it. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Who would stick an engine on an asteroid? Where’s the maneuverability?”
Torus was first to scan it and show the schematics. “Sir, it seems that these devices are not built into the rock. Rather, using a combination of mechanics, organics, phase shifting and flash technology, it is in fact a ship that has burrowed into the asteroid.”
“A burygine!” said Hogart. “It’s a ship from the ancient galactic war in the Milky Way. We studied them in school. I had no idea they had been in the Andromeda Galaxy as well.” No wonder John had been a bit vague on details. There was no way to be sure unless you were next to one. By then, it was usually too late.
As if to reinforce that point, the asteroid split apart, and an unwieldy looking vehicle with a sharp point was revealed. There was a brief reddish light, the rocks around it vaporized, and then the ship launched itself at the Stellar Flash, like a lizard attacking prey.
“Alert,” said the AI. “Exotic particles detected in the drill bit. Compatible with the Stellar Flash outer hull. Penetration likely.”
Hogart turned to his first officer, and threw his hand out in frustration at him, about to say, “you had to say it,” then he pulled his hand back and sighed. Of course, Spiney wouldn’t get the joke.
He looked over to Puppy, who winked one of his 12 eyes at him. His sign that he had got it. Hogart grinned to himself, then turned back to Spiney, trying to figure a way out of the situation. They could stand here all day and be fired upon, but if the ship was about to drill in, that was another situation altogether.
“What about our nanite repair systems?” asked Hogart. “Can they defend the hull?”
“The nanite shield will withstand the drill for a few moments before structural integrity fails.”
Hogart swore, then turned to the ship’s pilot. “Josie. How will this affect your merger with the ship?”
“Already getting future feedback from an alternate timeline,” said Tonderai, gritting her teeth. “It’s going to be pretty painful.”
“How quickly can we turn the ship and threaten them with the dark energy beam?” Everyone was silent, their alien faces unreadable. The Stellar Flash’s maneuverability was a sore point. “Forget I said anything. Cuddly, can you communicate with them?”
“I’ve sent several contact messages, but either they are ignoring them, their communications systems are not compatible, or their ancient language is not in our database.”
“Geo, can you calculate where it’s most likely to attack first?”
Geo flipped another drop open, revealing his hairy eyes, and blinked. “Your guess is as good as mine, Sir. The ship is powering left then right thrusters randomly so that we cannot calculate its exact final position, though it is still heading straight for us. It plans to attack somewhere.”
“Right! Give me a vague estimate.”
“If the timing remains the same, if they fire their right thrusters just before impact, it’ll be above scout ship Hangar 27.”
“Great! I’d just like to remind everyone that this is a research vessel, and I would prefer not to fire on that ship. I’d rather capture, learn and release if possible. So, here’s my plan.”
Hogart outlined his idea, and everyone set to work.
Moments later Hogart flashed outside of Hangar bay 27. The area was in one of the outer corridors of the ship, and he could look through the corridor window and see the massive space. Big enough for 5 scout craft.
The Hangar was reserved for visiting craft, so was quite bare, apart from various biorepair stacks and parts cabinets that lined the walls. Hogart put his hand to the window and peered closer, getting his bearings, then moved towards the door to wait.
In the window reflection he saw his two chosen companions appear not far away and quickly clack and inch up behind him.
“Hangar Bay 27 decompressed. Attack ship on reverse thrusters, and slowing. Front cone drill active.” The A.I’s voice echoed around them. “The vessel is adjusting its speed for careful penetration rather than ramming.”
“Sounds like it knows what the Stellar Flash is made of,” said Puppy, as they reached the transparent metal of the Hangar bay door. Energy shields had been erected inside so that, as soon as it happened, the ship wouldn’t be able to move any further.
Hogart trusted the A.I. would do what she needed to do at the right moment.
“Impact in 5…4…3…2…”
Moments later, the roof of the hanger phase-shifted, and the nanite shield split and rushed apart, creating a hole large enough, just as the enemy ship was about to hit the outer surface. With nothing to land on, the artificial gravity quickly pulled it through the ceiling, and it crashed to the floor, spinning awkwardly, as hard-light beams began to slow it and hold it in place.
The A.I. reactivated the ceiling, repressurized the room, then released the door. Hogart, along with his security guard and translator, stalked in, nanite suits on and guns at the ready.
“Ready to attempt translation, Cuddly?”
“Yes, Sir!”
The light beams slowed the ship to a stop, and positioned it the right way up. With a clang, the entrance door hit the ground, and to everyone’s surprise, a Floran in military regalia stood in the opening.
Hogart immediately noticed that the Floran was wearing 22nd century decorations.
He briefly looked back at Puppy and Cuddly, and shrugged. Cuddly waved an upper proleg in understanding. No special translation was necessary.
Their language systems would work just fine.
Hogart took a step towards the Floran. “I see. You thought you could come back in time and recapture me here, did you?”
The Floran looked at him coldly with its stamen-like eyes and orchid-flower mouths. “I don’t know you, and I have only two objectives. You have prevented objective one. Speaking of which…” Then the Floran turned to the ship. “Computer. Self-destruct.”
The Floran’s ship complied. “Self-destruct initiated. Stellar Flash sterilization program commenced. Power and energy build up, confirmed. Goodbye Commander Skrgypst. Six… Five…”
“Noooo!” yelled Hogart.
Not that yelling would do any good.
The Andromeda Effect. Stellar Flash Book Two by Neil A. Hogan
Now Available in Digital and Print
Sent back 2.5 million years in time to the Andromeda Galaxy to investigate why there’s a record of them having been there, the Stellar Flash crew encounter a creature so powerful that it has taken control of the entire galaxy by thought alone.
With most of the crew unconscious, Captain Jonathan Hogart is in a race against time to defeat the plant-planet, save the galaxy, and find a way to return to 2133.
But another force is attempting to take control, to use the power of the creature from the past to take over the Milky Way Galaxy in the present. And, for this, Hogart has no defense.
How is the creature controlling an entire galaxy?
Who has the technology to transmit the creature’s power from the past to the present?
And will the Stellar Flash crew and the Space Station team be able to save both galaxies?
Available now at –
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