“We pretend we are powerful, and the public believes us. We pretend humanity is running the show, but that’s only because we haven’t crossed into the wrong territory. We pretend to be the most advance species, and yet so many humans do not know we were created and engineered by a senior species that is long extinct.” – From the diary of Sarath Wells, June 3265.

  “Any luck?” Tobias asked, stepping onto the bridge of the Shaka, “I feel like we’ve been at this for weeks.”

  “We have. Unfortunately, it is like searching for a needle in a haystack the size of a galaxy,” Albert replied, dropping thousands of Light threads and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

  The pair had led the search for this nebulous enemy, and so far they’d come up empty. The one and only time they’d found an enemy garrison had been one hundred percent unbridled chance. And they only found it—a human asteroid mine near the far edge of their territory—because the entire facility had gone dark and attempts to make contact went unanswered.

  Among the Unranked Officers, it was common knowledge that the enemy despised any form of light and would take any opportunity to block it out or destroy it entirely. Sadly, that meant they probably turned the mine pitch black and were using the human workers as food.

  Clearing the mine had been relatively easy. Between Albert’s ability to force their bodies to accept Light and Tobias’s ability to control more drones than any reasonable ship carried, they made quick work of the invaders.

  “What about searching for blind spots? I thought that gave them away.”

  “It does, but there is a not-insignificant fact that you’re ignoring,” Albert said, rising from his chair and selecting a destination from the navigation panel.

  “Which is?”

  “How far we’ve spread ourselves across this universe. Frankly, humanity was stupid in claiming so many worlds so far apart. Why the senate refused to just stick to the Milky Way, I’ll never understand.”

  “It’s mostly because humans think they need to be as widespread as possible. It costs more to ship something to Phoenix in transportation, protection, and supplies than it does just learning to build the product right there.”

  Tobias walked to the command console and called up an information panel. In a ring around him, holographic projections signified his total control of all ship functions.

  “Why do you have that set as our destination?” he asked, dismissing the ship-level view and pulling up a star map.

  “Because The Reservoir hasn’t sent a return beacon in five months, and I can’t find any signs of life.”

  “That place is massive. How do you propose finding one encampment on a floating ball of ice 140 trillion times the size of Earth?”

  “I will worry about how we find the facility. You worry about getting us there,” Albert replied with his characteristic nonchalance.

  Just looking at him, Albert didn’t appear to be anything special. The pressed uniform and sidearm screamed figurehead more than it did soldier. However, like all of them, Albert Mayer was an unstoppable force when he joined a battle. That he did it unarmored with only a pistol for a weapon, made him terrifying.

  “Alright then, but I get the next one,” Tobias said, activating the Shaka’s Gate and pushing them through space with a thought.

  “My brother, you only wish you had my level of efficiency. Though I find myself envious of those drones you so freely use.” Albert replied, checking the pistol one last time after they reformed.

  “It’s the only thing I have on you,” Tobias laughed. The age-old points were the same as they were decades ago.

  “No, I don’t think so. You and the others are much more combat effective than I will ever be, but you lack the vision, the insight that I have.”

  Walking toward the Gate projector on the wall of the bridge, he picked up the quantum beacon he’d made for this purpose.

  “I will update the map as I go. Open the Gates when you see the ping, please.”

  “I always do.”

  Securing the beacon to his wrist, Albert Mayer once again lamented his inability to match Benjamin’s raw Light output. But there were worse ways to get around than having a friend lock on to your beacon and open a Gate.

  Nodding, he stepped through the Gate and shattered into motes of Light.

  “Can we really afford to have someone of your caliber on prison detail?” Benjamin asked upon seeing Theresa Kos sitting in a comfortable chair with a blanket over her legs and the ever-present book in her hands.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Can we really afford for one of us not to take watch?” She countered.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Approaching the window, he stared at the pitiful creature they’d held for close to a year. The inky black of its body had grayed drastically under the prolonged exposure to the intense Light of its prison, but Hargrave barely cared.

  Ben had starved, beaten, cut apart, and even burned the creature, but he had nothing to show for it. He even tried going the other direction as well. Feeding it every day, soothing its wounds, even occasionally reducing the Light intensity. Nothing had broken the creature, but Hargrave knew it must be near the end of its rope.

  “You know I haven’t slept in centuries. The same things that haunt your waking life haunt my dreams. Fortunately, I can heal the exhaustion and refresh myself without those memories ever invading my thoughts.”

  “Really? Centuries? Theresa, you can’t keep going like this,” Benjamin replied, refusing to take his eyes off the prisoner.

  “Says the living weapon?”

  “And what are you reading today?” he deflected, knowing this argument had no end.

  “It’s a little number I picked up from the archives. A story about superheroes from the time when we lived on Earth. It’s about a kid who’s never had control of his powers, but with a little help he becomes one of the world’s strongest saviors,” she smiled, patting the tome in her lap.

  That had always been the quickest way to distract her; ask about a book, and all remnants of the previous conversation were gone. She was nearly the opposite of Albert in that regard. That man would remember what you were talking about long after you’d forgotten why you were there.

  They both saw through the deflection. The difference was that Theresa recognized when you didn’t want to talk and would allow the distraction.

  “It must truly be fantastic, then. I’m not sure there is such a thing as a hero anymore,” Benjamin said, glancing into the cell. “I can say for a fact that I’m not his hero.”

  “But you are the hero to so many others. Ben, you save lives that don’t even know they need to be saved. You protect people by making the hard call, even when that call is painful.”

  “You make me sound like a tyrant,” he replied, walking to the first door and beginning the entrance process.

  “You were. You could be again, but you choose to be the hero instead of the villain.”

  “Heroes don’t do what I do,” he said, ending the conversation and entering the cell.

  Approaching the table, he formed a small dagger and released two of the creature’s restraints.

  “Sacrament, how are you doing today?”

  “We… hurt. But you know that, don’t you, Benjamin,” a raspy voice replied.

  The fact that it knew which personality was in control unnerved him, but he was used to it by now and had learned to roll with the punches.

  “Would you like to stop hurting, my friend?”

  “We are not friends!” Sacrament screeched, shaping one of its limbs into a blade and attacking the Unranked Officer.

  In a flash, Hargrave had taken over and reshaped the knife into a set of claws. Dodging the weak strike, he cut a long furrow down the length of Sacrament’s arm. Before it could pull back, he grabbed the limb and shoved a Light battery deep into the wound.

  Screaming in pain, it tore at its skin. If anyone else had prepared the battery, Sacrament could’ve ignored it. Sadly, someone almost as powerful as a Starborn had charged it.

  “Please! Stop!” the creature screamed.

  Reforming the weapon, Hargrave cut off the injured limb.

  “I only stop the pain for my friends,” Hargrave said, the unnerving smile wide on his face.

  “We want to talk to Benjamin,” they pleaded.

  This was new.

  It had never requested the weaker inhabitant of this body. Did they really believe that crap about being friends? Did Benjamin?

  “I’m here, Sacrament. What do you want to talk about?” The Officer asked, his expression shifting as Benjamin regained control.

  Part of their mass undulated as a new arm pushed its way out of the vaguely humanoid lump of tentacles.

  “You know our mission is to bring Blessed Darkness. But you don’t know about our enemies, the Starborn. They are the ones whose power you wield so freely.”

  “Is that why your people are here? To find and fight these beings?” he asked, walking around the table so Sacrament could clearly see him.

  The creature let loose a short, gravelly laugh. “We cannot kill one of the Starborn with the force we have. We are but a scouting mission in search of the vile creatures.”

  “When and why did this war begin?”

  “The when is easy, nearly thirteen billion of your years ago. We were cave dwellers and still worshipping the Starborn as gods,” they explained.

  “This feud is nearly as old as the universe itself?”

  “Yes.”

  “What caused it? Why did it start?” he asked, releasing a third limb to prove his intentions.

  “We cannot say.”

  Benjamin paused; the knife still held in his hand. A battle was taking place inside him. Hargrave wanted to punish the insolent being for its defiance, but Benjamin wanted answers.

  “Not because we don’t want to, but because the collective purged it from our consciousness billions of years ago.” Sacrament panicked, trying to shy away but still pinned by several restraints.

  “Are there other races that might know the complete story?” Benjamin said, controlling himself and his inner demon.

  “Yes, several, but most have already fallen to The People.”

  “You know Sacrament, we’ve been friends for so long yet I still do not know what your people are called,” Benjamin said, putting away his weapon and offering a hand to the creature, “But I think we’ve finally come to an understanding.”

  “Why did you hurt us?”

  “Because your people have taken two-thirds of Earth’s population and overthrown several of our planets in the name of your jihad. Compared to what the collective did to our people, they should be happy you’re still alive.”

  “So far from home, we needed food,” they tried to explain.

  “So you take sentients?” Benjamin roared, barely maintaining control, “How could a people so old, so numerous, be so evil?”

  "We hope you know, Benjamin Hargrave, those slaves will feed our people for generations," they said, changing their voice and posture abruptly, as if a switch had been thrown. “We will use the women as breeding stock, and milk the men for their seed. Those that are too old, or refuse to provide children for the herd, will serve our people as slaves. If they refuse yet again, they will become food for our young. We will wipe out your worlds one by one until all is Sacred Darkness. You will fall, but first, you will despair! The People—The Stygibora—have come, and there is nothing and no one that can stop us!”

  Falling silent, Sacrament seized as the color drained even further from its body. Liquid poured from its many wounds as it deflated like a waterskin. When it was done and all motion had stopped, Benjamin was left staring at a dead, eyeless face cut through with a wide, toothy grin.

  Mankind—it seemed—was in much more danger than expected.