Avatar of the Traveler

Captain Mara Brahe halted her frantic typing when she noticed the violet light fill the command cabin. Wincing, she turned her head from the wall-sized window to her left. It was either that or burn out her retinas.

A force unseen slammed into her ship, the Icarus II.

“Captain,” a masculine voice crackled over the intercom, “the last shock wave rendered our propulsion system inert. The A-drive suffered moderate damage. Our energy collection mechanism is also disabled.”

“What about the EM shield?” Mara asked.

Even the smallest motes of stardust could become lethal when one was traveling at high velocity. The EM shield helped repel such dangers and were crucial to a ship’s survival.

“The last attack rendered the electromagnetic shield inoperable,” the masculine voice replied.

“Damn it!” Mara screamed as she slammed her hand down on the crystal keyboard in front of her. Several cracks appeared in the board.

The tiny lights within the console flickered and winked out.

Mara’s mind worked furiously through her sadly limited options. She was stuck, her ship now little more than a floating husk.

The creature Solarion had her.

"You can’t fight the inevitable, Captain,” said an inhuman voice, from everywhere and from nowhere. The voice drifted through her mind as much as it filled the emptiness of the cabin.

"The Traveler’s soul will be mine. The crowning achievement of my collection. For never has there been such a potent spirit in any creature I’ve devoured in my lifetime. And let me assure you, I have lived for a very, very long time.”

Mara stared blankly into her holo-display, failing to notice the hot tears of frustration streaming down her cheeks. For a brief moment she feared succumbing to the panic that constricted her chest.

"There, there, Captain. No need for such sorrow. Think of your sacrifice as a noble contribution to something far greater than yourself. In the very least, take comfort in knowing that soon your beloved will be joining you.”

Tycho’s face flashed across Mara’s mind; his unruly mop of midnight black hair and that dimpled smile that made his face glow.

A fire erupted within her. Mara’s time in this life may be finished, but Tycho would live.

Mara waited several moments before moving again. She was well aware that the pause in communication with the creature could only mean that the celestial being was preparing another coronal mass ejection to throw at her broken, dying ship.

She stood from her chair and walked to the window of the cabin.

“Tai, engage solar shields.”

A tinted material lowered down over the outside of the window, granting her the ability to face her foe.

Mara couldn’t avoid the momentary awe she felt as she beheld the powerful creature.

The creature, in its true form, was massive. It was easily the size of Luna, Earth’s orbiting satellite. At its core a violet maelstrom of energy raged and bolts of purple electricity crackled and danced upon its surface.

She took several deep breaths, lowering her heart rate, before proceeding.

“Tai, engage stand-alone mode and meet me in the command cab-”

“I am here Captain,” Tai said.

“Were we able to load the data on the creature’s energy signature into the A-drive’s reverse-fire program?” Mara had discovered the mechanism of Tycho’s salvation mere minutes before her ship had been crippled.

“Yes, Captain. All data has been collected and analyzed,” the android replied.

“We are out of time, Tai. Divert all remaining power to our communication relay, and send my father the adjusted plans for the reverse fire, along with the data on the creature.” Mara continued watching the violet mass surge as she spoke.

“But Captain, there will be nothing left to power the shields if—”

“Tai!” Mara interjected.

A moment of silence passed.

“It is done Captain. I fear I no longer possess enough power to support basic func—”

Mara noticed the android’s eyelids droop heavily before shutting completely, the illuminated irises winking out.

Tai’s head slumped forward in silence.

She ran a hand down the cabin’s window frame, a sad smile crossing her face.

“Thank you Tai, for everything. No captain could ask for a better ship, a better friend.”

The Icarus II groaned, drawing Mara’s attention back to the cabin window.

The purple nova grew frantic as the ball of light expanded. It caused her dead vessel to tremble under the gravitational forces at work.

Again, memories of Tycho flooded her mind and tears resumed their sorrowful journey down her cheeks, but Mara’s smile never faltered as she faced the expanding ball of purple fire.

“Goodbye, my love,” she whispered, her words heavy with resignation and the finality of the outcome she faced.

And then Captain Mara Brahe, beloved wife, faded away into the brilliant violet light.

***

ONE YEAR LATER

Captain Tycho Brahe approached the window of his personal quarters.

“Mai, engage solar shields. Reduce solar intensity to point seven.”

Tycho’s personal quarters were Spartan in decor with a sleeping cot, a simple bedside table, a barren metallic desk wedged into the corner of the room, and a cramped washroom. One large window granted him a view of the beautiful stars outside the ship.

“Yes, Captain,” a feminine voice said, echoing through Tycho’s chambers.

The picturesque Sheliak system appeared as the window shifted from opaque to transparent, the blackness fading like the fog of night in the morning sun.

Tycho released a sigh, a nostalgic grin creeping into the corners of his mouth.

“Mai, maintain current position,” he said.

The Icarus III’s engines faded to a faint thrum.

Tycho returned his attention to the sapphire dance taking place before him.

The Sheliak system, or the Dancers as Mara had always referred to it, was a unique binary star system consisting of two stellar class B stars. The stars were caught in a constant state of flux, passing their mass back and forth in an endless transference.

Mara had said that the wispy blue bands of the accretion discs had reminded her of the arms of one dance partner around another, creating the illusion that the two stars were connected. She’d believed the delicate balance exhibited by the stars reflected the very nature of the universe.

Balance. The universe will always find a way to balance itself, he thought.

It was that day, the day Mara had taken Tycho to see the Dancers, that she and Tycho had danced their very first dance, copying the tranquility of their stellar neighbors; arms intertwined, bodies spinning upon the deck of the Icarus II as the serene celestial bodies twisted in the background.

Of the hundreds of cosmological wonders that Tycho had witnessed, the endless dance of the Dancers was his most preferred. After all, it was here that Tycho had also found the courage to propose to Mara.

Tycho recounted his daring and, as Mara had described it, idiotic escapade which involved an asteroid on a collision course with the primary star of the system. As the asteroid had approached the star, the heat had corrugated the asteroid’s surface, revealing chasms of sporadic diamond outcroppings.

Gathering the perfect sample had nearly cost Tycho his ship, and his life.

In the end, Tycho had presented Mara with a diamond her own size, and at that point it would have been reproachable to turn him down.

She always did say that the man who proposed to her would have to make it an act she’d never forget, Tycho thought. He chuckled to himself.

His death-defying stunt had accomplished just that.

As Mara had pulled a half dead Tycho from the smoking ruins of his collection vessel, she had accepted his proposal with three parts teary-eyed joy and one-part admonition.

Darkness intruded upon Tycho’s thoughts and he shook his head a few times, willing away the menace. His misery threatened to surface once again.

It had been one year since Mara had disappeared while investigating a strange signal discovered in a remote system named Venga III. Tycho had learned that the host galaxy of this system was hundreds of light years away and unmarred by humanity’s touch.

What exacerbated Mara’s disappearance was the nature of her vanishing. It was too reminiscent of similar disappearances involving Tycho’s father, his grandfather, and several other members of the Brahe line, tracing back to his great-great grandfather and founder of the Space Corps, Albert Brahe.

They had all vanished while investigating phenomenon similar to the strange signal Mara had discovered, ship and all, without a trace. Never to be heard from again.

Tycho turned towards the inside of his quarters, mood stern, all feelings of contentment obscured by his dark thoughts. He needed a distraction.

“Mai, I’m reviewing the specs on the ship’s last overhaul. Upload the data to my cabin terminal.” Tycho’s voice was strained. “I’m going off the grid for a couple of hours. Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.”

“Captain, are you well?” Mai asked.

“Just do it.”

“Yes, Captain,” Mai replied. The room fell silent.

Tycho stalked over to his desk and collapsed into the empty chair that rested behind it.

A subtle whir buzzed within the computer terminal inlaid within his desk.

Seconds later, a small slit opened in the desk’s crystalline surface. Tiny flickers of light projected a holo-display inches above the slit and a keyboard of green light appeared beneath Tycho’s fingertips.

Inspired, he hammered commands as data flashed across the screen. His gaze tracked back and forth as he absorbed the information: the usual software upgrades, a complete overhaul of the photon sail, new stratum for the collection rods to replace the damaged ones, and--something else--a hidden file directory.

Tycho perked up at the discovery. He’d made it a point to familiarize himself with all the ins and outs of his ship, yet this hidden directory was new, containing a executable with the designation ADRF.EXE.

Tycho straightened in his chair, his typing becoming frantic. He searched for the connection between the program and his ship, eager like a child hunting eggs on Easter morning. But after an hour of fruitless searching Tycho ceased typing, defeated, and fell back in his chair.

“Mai?”

“Yes, Captain?” the android replied.

“I’ve located a strange program within an unknown file directory, designation ADRFEXE.” Tycho pawed at the three-day growth of stubble on his chin.

“I’ve been meaning to discuss the hidden directory and executable with you, but due to your orders for a hasty departure from Orion Industries, I wasn’t able to—,”

“No explanation required, Mai,” Tycho interjected. “I know I was in a rush to get to the Dancers. Run an in-depth analysis on the file directory and its contents. I want to know what the hell it is, where the hell it came from, and what it effects on my ship. I’m going to count some sheep for a bit.”

Tycho doubted that sleep would find him, but he still needed some time to meditate and clear his head.

“Sheep, Captain? I’m not aware of any livestock currently aboard, unless—”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Tycho said. “It means I’m going to sleep—never mind. Just run the analysis and let me know what you find.” He sighed and shook his head.

“Yes, Captain,” Mai replied and fell silent.

Tycho moved towards his bunk and smacked his pillow several times before collapsing onto it. He settled on the firm mattress, the weariness of the day’s events setting in, and a restless sleep overcame him.

***

Tycho was standing on the deck of a foreign vessel.

It wasn’t the Icarus III, but it did possess a sense of familiarity.

Realization struck him as he recognized the deck of his late wife’s ship, the Icarus II. He scanned the room; the air was tinged in a purple haze and violet light spilled in through the cabin windows, blanketing the room’s contents.

Tycho’s observations were ended by the sounds of finger falls upon a keyboard.

The sounds were coming from the direction of the command console, from the captain’s chair.

Each finger-fall caused Tycho’s heart rate to spike.

He crept towards the console.

A pair of hands appeared. Slender fingers pecked at the crystal board.

Another step revealed the fair skin of a forearm.

Two more and there she was. Her curled golden hair fell just past her shoulders. Her dimpled chin and her radiant sapphire eyes held their brilliance despite the tinted haze of the room.

Tears streamed down the woman’s cheeks, yet her face was riddled with a grim look of determination.

For a moment, Tycho forgot how to breathe.

“Mara?” Tycho raised a shaky hand, hesitated, then reached for her shoulder. His heart thundered in his chest and moisture accumulated at the corners of his eyes.

Mara continued typing, oblivious to his presence.

A holographic image of the Icarus II appeared before her. Tiny digital collection rods deployed from the rendition of the ship like the branches of a flourishing tree, and the collection stratum unfolded like hundreds of metallic leaves.

The process was how the Icarus II collected energy for travel, designed to mimic a plant’s natural process of collecting sunlight for growth and photosynthesis.

“Mara,” Tycho said, desperate to get her attention. He moved to touch her shoulder but his hand traveled through her, as if she wasn’t even there. Again and again he reached for her, his desperation increasing with each movement.

A klaxon wailed, drawing his attention.

A flashing command lit up the holo-display.

ADRF.EXE

ADRF.EXE

ADRF.EXE

Tycho recognized the filename of the unknown executable he’d discovered on the Icarus III.

“What does it mean?” he asked. “Mara, please!” He shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. He felt smothered by the weight of his emotions.

When he raised his head again, he noticed that Mara now stared at him, her face revealing nothing, a cold and emotionless mask.

“Mara?” he asked again.

Mara’s mouth opened in a silent scream. Phantom pain creased the corners of her eyes.

Shocked, Tycho stumbled backwards, his clumsy feet searching for renewed purchase.

A beam of the familiar violet light poured from Mara’s mouth.

The brilliant light blinded Tycho and his footing failed. He fell backwards with his hands covering his face, until the back of his skull met the unforgiving metal mesh of the cabin floor.

***

Where am I? Tycho thought. Darkness surrounded him. He tried to move but couldn’t. He tried flexing his fingers and wiggling his toes, to no avail.

Instead he lay motionless and recounted the bizarre dream he’d just experienced.

Everything hurt. His body, his mind; everything felt fried like a piece of meat left out in the sun for too long.

He tried not to focus on the pain.

Tycho recounted all the named constellations, a process he often utilized to focus his mind. It was a technique he’d learned early on as a cadet during his training days at Space Corps.

Tycho was a third of the way through the lengthy list before he was interrupted by the appearance of a point of light.

The light, despite its faint luminescence, was a beacon in the vast sea of darkness.

The pinprick of light expanded, revealing fuzzy shapes and colors. A minute more brought clarity to his blurred vision.

A pair of illuminated blue irises winked back at him, attached to a face that vaguely resembled his wife’s; the fair skin, the blonde curls, the dimpled chin. Yet the face seemed cold and inhuman, lacking any emotion.

Mai, Tycho realized.

The android was leaning over at an odd angle and it took Tycho a moment to understand that Mai was standing over his supine form.

Mai moved closer until the android’s face was mere inches from his. The android blinked as its mechanical brain processed sensory information.

"Aaaack! Mai! What the hell?” Tycho started at the breach of proximity.

Mai pulled away.

“Are you alright, Captain?” The android’s concerned tone was odd but apparent, like most of Mai’s simulated emotional responses. In this instance, Tycho was appreciative of the near-human mannerisms.

The back of Tycho’s head thumped a chaotic rhythm as he sat up. He was greeted with a wave of nausea but he forced it down and remained in a sitting position.

He reached to touch the back of his head and felt a large knot, the result of his skull meeting the steel mesh of the cabin floor, he assumed.

“Stars, Mai, what happened? How long have I been out?”

Mai blinked several more times.

“You were unconscious for approximately one hundred and thirty-four minutes, Captain. I detected a rapid increase in your heart rate and felt it necessary to check on you. I found you situated on the floor and you were sweating profusely. A bad dream?” Mai reached down and offered Tycho a hand up.

Tycho took the android’s proffered hand, noting the artificial strength that was uncharacteristic of its feminine appearance.

"Eh, you could say that,” he said. His knees wobbled but at least he could stand now.

Tycho moved towards the computer terminal of his cabin and seated himself at his desk. His head was still swimming and he shook it several times to clear it further.

Without pause, he typed commands into the terminal and seconds later a holographic image of the Icarus III appeared.

Tycho noticed the deployed photon sail.

“What’s our current location?” he asked.

Tycho leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head, and then propped his feet up onto his desk.

“We have left the Sheliak system and have entered intergalactic space—”

"Aaaaaaaagh," Tycho yawned, interrupting the android. “Good, good. Set a course for the Trifid Nebula. I’m anxious to see if it really looks like a unicorn’s head. I understand that a rather peculiar cluster of stars was identified in the local stellar nursery there and I’m itching to take a peak before any other Corps junkies claim the glory for themselves.”

After a moment of thought, he added, “Send a com to Cassini and let him know we are taking the mission for preliminary investigation.”

Tycho rubbed his hands together before leaning forward and entering several commands into the terminal, his previous discomfort becoming an afterthought.

A holographic image of the unicorn-shaped nebula replaced the image of his ship.

Tycho’s eyes betrayed all of the thirst for discovery that he was known for. He was the most spirited when faced with the chance to explore a new cosmological wonder.

One could say he possessed the true spirit of a traveler. Exploring the great unknowns of the universe was what he lived for.

“Captain,” Mai’s voice broke through his thoughts. “While you were asleep we received an urgent message from Space Corps. Commander Cassini requests that you contact him immediately.”

“Cassini? Did he say what it was concerning?” Tycho said, frowning.

The android shook its head several times.

“The commander did not specify his intent but he gave strict orders for the Icarus III’s unconditional return to headquarters, without delay,” Mai said.

"Interesting,” Tycho muttered while he worried at the knot on the back of his head with his fingertips.

“Shall I set a course for rendezvous, Captain?” Mai asked.

I wonder what has the old goat’s beard in a knot, Tycho thought.

“Not just yet. I’ll contact Cassini first. Maintain our current position and return to Omni-mode.”

Omni-mode was the state in which Mai left its android body and interfaced its neural network with the ship. This left the A.I. with more precise control over the Icarus III’s functions.

“Yes, Captain,” Mai said, turning to exit the cabin. The ensuing silence was superseded by the motorized thrum of the retracting photon sail.

An unconditional RTB? The thought didn’t sit well with Tycho.

Cassini had always granted him near-absolute freedom to do as he pleased, due to his untouchable mission completion record and 5A captain rating.

It also didn’t hurt that Tycho had the uncanny ability to navigate his way through the most difficult cosmic environments. His hunger for exploring the universe had yielded some of the juiciest, and what was often considered the most unobtainable data on some of the rarest occurrences that the Space Corps had ever collected.

George Cassini was also his late wife’s uncle and an old family friend. He had treated Tycho like a son in lieu of the disappearance of Tycho’s own father--Tycho’s mother had died during childbirth due to a rare complication--and if it weren’t for Cassini stepping in to fill the parental void, Tycho would have had no one.

In Tycho, Cassini had recognized the same mysterious intuition that Tycho’s patriarchal predecessors were rumored to possess. He had acknowledged Tycho’s unrivaled talent for space exploration from the very beginning of Tycho’s career and had helped expedite Tycho’s career from as a 1F captain to the prestigious ranks of the elite 5A captains.

Cassini commanded the 5A group and he seldom interfered with his captains’ methods except under the most critical of circumstances.

“This feels wrong,” Tycho murmured. Try as he might he just couldn’t shake the ominous feeling growing in his gut, but he decided not to waste any more time dwelling on the possibilities, opting rather to confront the issue.

With hardened resolve Tycho punched in the commands to open a direct link to Space Corps.

A window containing the Space Corps logo appeared. The logo portrayed the planet Earth on which two figures, a larger and a smaller, stood side by side with arms outstretched towards the stars.

A familiar brunette appeared on the screen. She had a round face with soft, mousy features and hair pulled into a tight bun.

Tycho recognized the young woman as a communications operator.

“Name and credentials, please,” she said, in a practiced tone.

“Captain Tycho Brahe of the Icarus III, 5A dash 00617, for Commander Cassini. He’s expecting me.” Tycho drummed his forefingers on the desk, then stopped when he realized such action was betraying the nature of his anxiety.

“Thank you, Captain. One moment please.” The woman disappeared, replaced by the logo screen.

Tycho leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, clasped his hands together across his abdomen and waited.

Cassini must have awaited his call because the grizzled commander’s face appeared on the screen not two minutes later.

George Cassini was a man well into his sixties with a weathered face that revealed much of the man’s various scraps and excursions throughout the universe.

He had a pinched brow that often left him with a stern expression, a crooked nose that hinted at several older breaks, a mop of silver hair that reached his shoulders, and a full beard of the same color. But as gruff as the man always appeared, his icy blue eyes carried the wisdom of lifetimes and they always twinkled with warmth and compassion.

The grave expression on Cassini’s face caused Tycho to straighten in his chair. He’d seen that expression once before, the day he’d told Tycho of Mara’s disappearance.

“Commander--George. How are you?” Tycho gave the man a short nod.

Cassini, noticing the effect his expression had on the young captain, released a breath and adopted a calm look. He had to be strong for the boy.

No, no that wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t a boy any longer. He was a man and a damn fine one at that. It made what he was going to say next that much harder.

“Tycho, my boy.” Cassini’s voice was deep and gravely. “How was Sheliak?”

Leave it to a Cassini to obfuscate the issue with small talk, Tycho thought.

"The Dancers, well, they’re still dancing, as beautiful as ever. Forgive my absence during your last call, I was—indisposed,” he replied.

“Ah yes, your robot said something about a nightmare. Are you alright? You still having them?” This time Cassini’s voice was completely sincere. Tycho wondered if the commander realized the large gap that was apparent between his feigned emotion and the real thing.

Cassini would make for a terrible poker player.

Tycho hesitated, trying to decide how much, if any, of the dream to reveal.

“This was the first in several months, but it was nothing unusual,” he lied. Was that a twitch at the corner of Cassini’s mouth?

“Good, good. I can’t have my best captain going off the deep end now can I?” The old man released a throaty chuckle.

Cassini had been a stern man since the day Tycho first met him and such flattery was not in the old man’s repertoire. It made Tycho uneasy.

“George, what’s this all about? Why the order for an unconditional RTB? I was on my way to the Trifid Nebula to collect data on the new star cluster. What’s happened?” Tycho asked.

The question brought the grave expression back to the old man’s face.

Cassini said nothing as he twiddled his thumbs, holding Tycho’s gaze in silence.

“I can’t discuss it. Not until you get here.”

It was a blatant lie and Tycho knew it.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Tycho kept his tone neutral despite his frustrated thoughts, letting just the slightest amount of challenge enter his voice.

Cassini pulled at his beard; all laughter was gone from his icy eyes.

“A bit of both, I suppose,” he replied with hesitation.

For the briefest of moments, Tycho caught a glimmer of fear hovering behind the old man’s placid facade.

Realization dawned then, breaking through the mystery like the first light of sunrise splitting an impenetrable curtain of night.

Tycho’s heart lurched.

“This is about Mara isn’t it? You’ve found something haven’t you?” he asked.

The words caused Cassini to wince.

“Return to base, boy. We will discuss it when you get here.” There was nothing but hard finality in the command.

“That is an order,” Cassini added.

Tycho sat rigid in his chair, his face reddening. He took several seconds to master his budding anger.

Fine, if that’s how the old goat wanted to play it, Tycho would be more than happy to counter with some trumped up regulation of his own. If there was new information regarding his wife’s disappearance, he had to know, had to investigate it. He owed Mara that and so much more.

Tycho sighed before meeting Cassini’s weary eyes.

“Commander Cassini, under the bylaws set forth by the governance of Space Corps, regarding a contracted captain—”

“Don’t do this boy,” the commander interrupted, his voice thick with warning.

“I’m enacting code 427-2A, which states—”

“I know the damn code!” Cassini blurted out.

Cassini’s face hardened. His thick veins bulged in his forehead and neck.

“Damn it boy!” Cassini slammed his fist down onto his desk. Tycho could almost see smoke piping from his ears.

A painful silence passed for a short eternity before the commander regained some semblance of composure.

“What’s it going to be, George? You and I both know I can easily get the information from another commander and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it,” Tycho said, letting the heat bleed out of his voice.

Tycho was pushing him. Cassini was scared, maybe even terrified.

But why? What had the old goat so spooked?

Cassini groaned in defeat.

“Fine! But you listen and listen well boy. The higher ups, myself included, feel that there is something larger at work here and you are smack dab in the middle of it,” he said.

“You’re talking about the disappearances of my father, my grandfather, and so on? What do they have to do with any of this?”

Tycho’s previous frustration drained away, replaced with an eager anticipation to discover the truth that Cassini was so desperate to conceal.

Cassini ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s no secret that you and your family have always been—different. Your father was a brilliant scientist as much as he was a gifted explorer. He could see things in data that others just couldn’t see and he understood things about the universe that most could never dream of,” he said.

Tycho had never known his father. The man had vanished when Tycho was a mere infant, but he had heard stories of the reclusive scientist. The most noted tale was his strange disappearance while exploring the fabled rum cloud of Sagittarius B2.

Alvis Brahe had been studying how ethyl-formate molecules, a type of alcohol particulate known for giving raspberries their flavor, had formed and attached themselves to the gas and dust particles of the cloud.

His father was also a rumored heavy drinker which had added a sinister sense of irony to the entire affair.

“You’re no different boy. You are the most gifted explorer the Space Corps has ever seen. Call it intuition, or vision, call it whatever the hell you want, but you see and feel the inner workings of the universe in a way I’ve never witnessed in any captain under my command,” Cassini said.

“What’s your point?” Tycho asked, growing anxious.

“My point is that these don’t appear to be just random disappearances,” Cassini said, his voice lowering to just above a whisper.

“Wait. Are you saying someone or something is responsible for my family’s disappearances?”

It sounded thin, but Tycho couldn’t argue that there was a potential pattern in the events.

“I don’t know. There wasn’t the slightest bit of data on any of the disappearances, until Mara’s.”

Tycho started at this.

“Until Mara’s?” he asked. Cold sweat oozed from Tycho’s clammy hands.

“I’ve been told for the past year that no data, that nothing was recovered from Venga III,” he added, his eyes narrowing.

“Nothing was. But my brother Thomas over at Orion received a strange communication from Mara’s ship right before the Icarus II’s signal went black.”

“What com?” Tycho asked. He couldn’t contain himself. He hadn’t realized he was leaning over his desk with his face mere inches from the display.

“Relax boy, I’m getting to that. The communication was for a redesign of the ship’s reverse fire function of the A-drive, and a line of broken data we think was a fragmented signal. The boys over at Orion thought it was a unique energy signature, but they weren’t certain,” Cassini said.

“The reverse fire function? But that procedure is nothing more than a rumor told among 1F’s at the Corps. And, why wasn’t I ever told?” Tycho’s asked, heat thick in his voice.

“Calm down,” Cassini growled. “Take a breath or I’ll stop right here and to hell with your code four twenty-seven.”

Tycho was shaking, but he took several deep breaths to lower his heart rate.

“Why?” he asked again.

“Because it was a dead end. They went over the data a hundred times. We sent missions to Venga III, but there was nothing. No trace of her, the ship, or the source of the energy signature. And besides, for your sake, we set it aside once we realized there was nothing we could do.”

“For my sake?”

Tycho let out and incredulous laugh. “She was my wife George! You should have told me!” His body shook with anger.

“And she was like my daughter, as much as you are like a son to me,” Cassini said, out of breath. A guilty expression haunted his face.

“Hah! You have an odd way of showing it,” Tycho retorted.

Cassini winced at the remark, but Tycho didn’t care. He couldn’t forgive the old man for this. Not yet.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence passed as they both attempted to cool down.

“So, what does this have to do with you ordering my return?” Tycho asked, breaking the silence.

Cassini hesitated, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

“We’ve picked up a signal at Venga III, an energy signature. We’ve compared it to the pieces of data we received a year ago when Mara disappeared. They match up,” he said.

To Cassini’s surprise, Tycho didn’t start at the news: no outbursts, no reaction whatsoever.

“I’m going,” was all Tycho said. A dark expression, unreadable to Cassini, blanketed Tycho’s face.

“Tycho, you aren’t. It isn’t safe. Whatever the source of this signal is, it was there just before she disappeared. Don’t make me pull rank or take your ship, boy. It’s for your own good that you return to base until we formulate a plan,” Cassini said.

“Fuck your rank. I’m going. Goodbye George,” Tycho said.

“Damn it boy, don’t be stup—”

The display went black as Tycho ended the communication.

His body shook. His control was slipping.

How could George keep this from me? he thought. Fury burned within him and anxiety gripped at his chest, but the desire, the need to discover what became of his beloved wife set his very soul on fire.

Tycho realized that he was at a dangerous crossroads. He couldn’t let the anger, the desire become corrosive, couldn’t let his rage at Mara’s loss convolute his thinking lest he suffer whatever fate Mara had met.

He would face George, confront him when the time came, but for now he had to find the truth and, if need be, put a stop to whatever dark force was moving behind the veil.

For Mara, for his father, for all of them, Tycho was prepared to do whatever he had to in order to discover what was happening, or he would die trying.

Tycho surmised that the solution involved the strange program, ADRF.EXE, which he now believed was a program involving the reverse fire function of the A-drive. But how would he use a solution when he didn’t even know the problem?

To make matters worse, Tycho wasn’t even sure how to activate the program or even perform a reverse fire of the A-drive. To his knowledge such a maneuver was theoretical, with all practical application being banned due to the dangerous and unknown nature of the resulting singularity created.

Perhaps Mara’s redesign was the key. Maybe she had found a way to bypass the program locks to perform a manual reverse fire.

The more Tycho dwelled on it, the more he believed this was true.

Maybe it was too late when she put it all together, he thought. There was no way to be sure.

Tycho would be entering the situation at Venga III blind, with no idea what to expect. It would call for a little of the intuition George spoke of, and an astronomical amount of luck.

With his mind set on the task at hand, Tycho depressed a button on his terminal.

“Mai?” he asked.

“Yes, Captain?” Mai replied.

“I assume you were monitoring the conversation with Cassini. What were your thoughts?” he asked.

A moment passed before the android responded.

“Commander Cassini knows you very well and he was likely aware of the action you would take upon learning about Captain Mara Brahe’s final transmission, therefore his hesitancy was not unfounded—”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” he said, interrupting the android.

“But he was also accurate in his measure of your ability. Statistically you have survived, succeeded even, in twenty-three situations in which your chances of survival were less than one percent. The scope of your ability is beyond my capacity to calculate, much less comprehend. If there is anyone capable of facing whatever awaits us at Venga III, it is you, Captain,” Mai said.

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning like a mad man.

“Furthermore, you are the Captain, my captain. I, the Icarus III, is your ship to the very end.”

Tycho marveled at the overwhelming sincerity in Mai’s words, an impressive feat for an A.I.

“Thank you Mai, truly,” Tycho said with a smile. A surge of pride welled up in him. “No captain could ask for a better ship, a better friend.”

“Of course, Captain. How do you wish to proceed?”

Tycho pondered his next course of action.

“Prepare the A-drive for a jump to Venga III. It’s time we faced whatever is out there waiting for us,” he ordered.

For Mara.

Another thought crossed his mind.

“Did you find anything in your analysis of the foreign program?”

“Very little, Captain. The program itself is encrypted with several complex, quantum-block algorithms. I was unable to breach it, but I did notice that the program utilizes external input for activation,” Mai said.

Tycho straightened in his chair.

“External input? Like external sensory information?” He asked.

“Affirmative, Captain. Activation seems to require an exotic input source. The software appears to tie in with the particle collection and detection programming, but I can’t say with certainty,” Mai said.

“I know you hate the guessing game, but do you have any ideas?” he asked.

“My best statistical guess is, activation could involve the introduction of a unique type of matter collection, or perhaps even an energy signature.”

Energy signature? Tycho’s mind jumped at the suggestion. George mentioned something about an energy signature in Mara’s final transmission, or at least that’s what the boys over at Orion thought.

“Prep the A-drive. I’m going to call Orion,” he said.

“Right away, Captain,” Mai replied.

A few seconds passed before Tycho recognized the deep thrum of the A-drive spooling up.

The Alcubierre drive, or A-drive, was a theoretical concept developed in the late twentieth century by theoretical physicist Miguel Alcubierre.

The concept was designed as a counter measure to the dead ends of human technological advancement and humanity’s inability to harness faster-than-light travel.

The device functioned by creating a warp ring around the ship, expanding and contracting the fabric of space-time while the ship was propelled through the bubble of warped space. Humans didn’t possess the physiology or technology for traveling faster than light, but space itself could expand and contract at far greater speeds.

Tycho entered several commands into his terminal until a holo-display appeared bearing the symbol of Orion Industries.

Orion Industries ran a gambit on all supplied vessels to Space Corps, which made perfect sense considering the owner, Thomas Cassini, was Tycho’s father in-law and brother to one of Space Corps’ leading commanders.

The blue logo of Orion, a white outline of the historic constellation over a starry background, mesmerized Tycho as it spun around and around. The effect was hypnotic when coupled with the deep thrum of the ship’s engines, and Tycho felt the weariness of recent events weigh down his eyelids.

The image of a young man in the dark blue Orion uniform appeared on the display. Tycho was familiar with most of the Orion staff, but he had never seen this man before.

“Thank you for contacting Orion Industries, how may I help you?” the man said. He was perky. Too perky.

Tycho felt a sense of foreboding upon seeing the man’s face and his tone caused Tycho’s stomach to clench, but he swallowed his distrust and straightened in his chair.

“Ah—yes, this is Captain Tycho Brahe. I’m trying to get a hold of Thomas...err...Mr. Cassini. It’s an urgent matter,” Tycho said.

“Welcome back, Captain Brahe. I trust everything is running smoothly on the Icarus?” the man asked in a cheery voice.

“Oh yes, everything is fine. I’m calling about an unrelated matter,” he lied. Tycho’s first question would be about the foreign program that had made its way into the Icarus’s infrastructure.

“Certainly. One moment, Captain,” the man replied.

Tycho leaned back in his chair and waited as the odd man was replaced by the logo screen. It was less than two minutes before the man reappeared.

“I’m sorry Captain, but Mr. Cassini is out for a conference in the Yael system and is currently unreachable. Is there anyone else I may direct you to?”

Cassini would be unreachable when I need him the most, Tycho thought. It couldn’t be helped. The answer to the questionable event that had shaped the last year of his life lay out there, waiting.

“No, thank you. Deliver a request for him to contact me at his earliest convenience, if you don’t mind,” Tycho said.

“Very good, Captain. May the stars shine favorably on your travels,” the man said, with a perfect smile. “Oh, and Captain, try to bring the Icarus back in one piece.”

Tycho ended the communication. How does Thomas find these people? he thought.

“Captain?” Mai’s voice echoed through the cabin. “The A-drive has completed its preparation cycle and I have plotted a course to Venga III.”

“Excellent. Have initial scans detected any trace of the signal?” Tycho asked.

It was a risky mission with too many unknown variables that could end in Tycho’s demise, but he lived for such challenges. He fed his lust for exploration through the dangers of the unknown. That fire burned all the stronger with the knowledge that he may learn the truth behind Mara’s disappearance.

“Negative, but there is something else you should know,” Mai replied. “Not only am I unable to detect any trace of the signal, but I’m also unable to get any readings from the local star or any of the other bodies within the solar system.”

“What? Is there a problem with our scanners?” he asked.

No readings from the local stellar masses...that’s impossible, Tycho thought.

“I’ve triple checked both the hardware and the software and I assure you both are functioning correctly. I’m not sure how to explain...but it’s as if something is masking the signals of the local star and bodies.” The android’s words were riddled with doubt.

“Shall we proceed as planned?” Mai asked.

The android’s question weighed on Tycho’s mind for the briefest of moments.

“We will proceed with the jump to Venga III, as planned,” he answered. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but for better or worse, he would find the answers at Venga III.

***

There was something majestic, something breathtaking about observing faster-than-light travel.

The recordings never managed to capture the dazzling nature, the sheer beauty that humbled a person when they became a shooting star among thousands of other shooting stars.

Tycho was stretched out upon the floor of the observation deck. The pair of sunglasses on his face reflected the light tracers of thousands of stars as they whizzed by the ship’s warp bubble.

The walls of the observation deck were inset with millions of minute digital displays that created a perfect representation of what was going on just outside of the ship.

Layer upon layer of radiant light beams created the illusion that the Icarus III was soaring through a meteor shower.

The whole experience gave Tycho a sense of oneness with the universe and he often found himself here pondering life’s mysteries.

Tycho lay humming a mellow jazz tune, arms stretched behind his head, foot bobbing in unison to the imaginary beat as he basked in the ambient light that enveloped him.

For that brief moment, his mind and his soul were at peace.

Tycho knew it was the calm before the storm, but he also realized that a clear mind and a level head were instrumental in surviving the next several hours.

Mai’s voice crackled over the intercom, disrupting Tycho’s meditative state.

“Four minutes, thirty-seven seconds until we arrive at Venga III, Captain.”

The home star of the Venga III system was an F-class white star, twenty-five percent larger than Earth’s host star.

The only other body present in the system was an iron composite planetoid, smaller than Mercury, which orbited the star at one hundred and seventy million kilometers, or just over the distance from the Earth to the Sun.

Tycho groaned as he rose to his feet and trudged towards the door of the observation deck. He shot a wistful glance back towards the light show.

He hoped, with desperation, that it was time for answers.

Tycho arrived at the command cabin, which was comprised of a half-circle electronics board containing several holo-screens and a number of digital gauges and switches.

The board encompassed a single black chair of an egg shell design and the entire console faced a large pane of polarized glass, allowing Tycho to see what lay in front of the ship.

As Tycho took his seat he noticed that the ship was decelerating in preparation for exiting the jump. He could tell by the shortening of light tracers caused by the passing starlight.

“Mai, bring us to the edge of the heliosphere and deploy the collection rods as soon as we enter the system. I want the A-drive fully energized and ready in case we need to make an emergency jump,” he said.

“Yes, Captain,” Mai replied.

Tycho spent the remainder of the jump in contemplation of the Jazz tune, “Blue in Green,” a song by a 20th-century musician named Miles Davis. He hummed the melody to calm his frazzled nerves.

Hues of blues and greens surround me,

Knowing you have found another love,

Has turned me world to sorrow...

Tycho had to play it cool, had to keep a level head at all costs. His fiery fervor from his conversation with Commander Cassini had ebbed, due in part to his jazzy meditation on the observation deck. Logic, once again, dictated his thoughts.

Green with envy for another,

Fearing she may be the one to soar through life with you,

Can’t lose these hues of blues in green...

Finding answers would be meaningless if Tycho entered a dangerous situation and died. He was already going in blind. Something told him he would need every bit of wit and intuition before this mess was finished.

“Fifteen seconds until we reach the perimeter of the heliosphere, Captain,” Mai said.

“Here we go,” Tycho murmured.

Fifteen seconds later, the Icarus III exited jump space and entered Venga III’s heliosphere.

“Hold position and deploy collection rods. Have our sensors picked up any trace of the signal?” Tycho asked.

He had given Mai orders to hack into the Space Corps’ database and acquire the signal fragment Commander Cassini had spoken of, the signal from his wife’s last transmission. Mai was to scan for the signal as soon as the Icarus III reached the system.

“No, Captain. I’ve detected no trace of the signal. Shall I set a course for deeper into the system?” the android asked.

Tycho pondered his next move.

“No, let’s hold position for a bit. Keep sweeping the area. Full spectrum.”

“Yes, Captain,” Mai replied.

Tycho waited as the minutes turned into two hours.

During that time, Tycho reviewed as much data on the Venga III system as he could.

In truth, there wasn’t much. The F-class white star and its sole rocky planetoid composed the entirety of the system. No binary stars, no scattered asteroid fields or unique moons, and the single planet was barren and devoid of any unique characteristics.

The data was little better than what a 1F captain would collect on their rookie run, but Tycho thought it best to error on the side of caution.

Mai’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Captain, I’m picking up a strange signal with an unknown point of origin.”

Tycho perked up.

“Unknown origin? How is that possible?”

“I’m not sure, but the signal is coming across the com-lines. I’ll link the feed to your display,” Mai said.

Tycho considered the implications of a transmission with an unknown point of origin and its potential relevance to his purpose in the Venga III system.

He didn’t believe in coincidence and his gut tightened at the thought.

“Alright, let me see it,” he replied. “Engage stand-alone mode. Get to the command cabin.”

A fuzzy image of a humanoid shape blurred into existence on Tycho’s display.

That face! Tycho thought, as he straightened in his chair. I know that face.

The man on the display didn’t move, didn’t blink, but sat staring at Tycho. A strange grin creased the corners of the man’s mouth and his eyes twinkled with a hint of malicious glee.

Tycho recognized the logo of Orion Industries on the man’s chest.

“Captain Tycho Brahe...of the Icarus III.” The man drew out each word, savoring each as he spoke.

Tycho stood from the chair, his face neutral, but just behind his eyes a maelstrom raged as his mind pieced together information.

Mai turned towards Tycho, those inhuman blue irises focusing on his expressionless face. The android had slipped in without Tycho noticing.

Tycho looked up to meet the gaze of the man on the screen.

“Ah yes, the Orion representative.”

The two men held each other’s gaze until Tycho spoke.

“Did Mr. Cassini receive my message?”

The strange man waited several seconds before answering, his cynical grin never faltering.

“But of course, Captain. Mr. Cassini was most enthused to receive it.”

Tycho’s intuition flared into the negative; everything about the man felt wrong.

The approach of another ship was undetected.

Only a handful of people knew where Tycho was and even fewer knew about why he was there. He needed to be cautious until he could learn more about the situation.

He was certain of one thing. The strange man on the display wasn’t a member of Orion.

“Please, don’t take this for rudeness, but was coming all the way out here to find me really necessary? A transmission would have worked just fine,” Tycho said, with a light-hearted chuckle.

A motion in the corner of his eye revealed Mai attempting to get his attention.

“Excuse me for a moment. I’m having trouble with my A.I.”

Tycho cut the audio and video feed, but remained connected to the signal.

Mai spoke before Tycho could even turn to face the android.

“Captain, this man is lying.”

“Oh, really? What gave you that impression?” he asked.

Mai blinked several times.

Androids... sheesh.

“I believe you’re right. Something is off about him, and I highly doubt that he works for Orion,” Tycho added.

“I would agree with your assessment, based primarily on the fact that Orion is not the point of origin of the transmission,” Mai said.

This caught Tycho’s attention.

“Is the source of the signal still unknown?”

“No, Sir. I have located the source of the signal. It is coming from this system,” Mai replied.

Tycho’s brow rose in question.

“From here? In Venga III?”

“That is correct,” Mai said.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that it’s not very far,” Tycho said, leaning forward in his chair, which was swiveled to face the android.

“I am unable to locate its exact location. I believe something is obfuscating my ability to locate the signal’s precise location within the system.”

Tycho scratched at his chin.

“It appears our being here is more than just coincidence,” he said.

“Again, I agree with your assessment, Captain.”

“Unfortunately, if we want answers we’ll have to play along. Put our visitor back on screen and be ready to jump at my signal,” Tycho said and turned back towards the main display.

The grinning man appeared once again. His smile stretched past the natural limitations of his face, giving the man an inhuman appearance. A subtle, purple cast glinted in the man’s eyes. The color was winking in and out of existence.

Tycho wrote it off as a problem with the connection.

“Forgive the delay. What can I do for you, Mister?” Tycho let the question hang in the air.

The man stared back at Tycho, his sinister grin remaining plastered to his face. The stranger made no motion to speak and Tycho opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence. Before he could, the man spoke.

"Captain Brahe," he said.

Tycho’s winced at the sound of the man’s voice.

“Yes? What can I do for you, Sir?”

“I wish to tell you a story,” the man said. His voice dripped with sweet venom.

“A story?” Tycho asked, quirking a skeptical brow.

The man flinched at Tycho’s incredulous tone. A look of disgust flashed across his face, but was replaced by the freakish grin.

“Yes. A story. Will you hear it?” the stranger asked.

"Uh... I don’t think—”

Tycho paused. He was taken aback by the sudden ridiculousness of the request, and frustration bubbled up in him.

I won’t be played for a fool, he thought.

“Surely there are more pressing matters regarding your reason for interrupting an official Space Corps mission,” he said.

The man’s grin faltered and a predatory look flashed across his face.

“Careful, Captain. Do not be so hasty in seeking the end of our conversation. You may regret what follows,” the man said.

The not-so-subtle threat was the affirmation Tycho needed. His caution regarding the man was not unfounded.

“Who are you?” Tycho asked, nothing but hardened resolve in his voice.

The question inspired another malicious grin and the strange man leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together before placing them on his chest.

For several moments he sat and stared at Tycho, never speaking, never even blinking. Then he took an exaggerated breath and spoke.

“You and your android are correct in your assumptions that I am not a part of the organization you refer to as Orion Industries.”

Despite Tycho’s stoic mask, inside he felt a slimy snake-like anxiety slithering around in his guts; coiling around his lungs and constricting his breath, and his head buzzed with one question after another.

“Further, your suspicions of my potentially cruel intent and my purpose for being here are also correct. I am the reason you are here. Perhaps, one could call it fate,” the stranger said.

A sickening realization formed in Tycho’s mind.

Was this man responsible for his wife’s death? The questions swirled around in his head; a torrent of insecurity. Who is this man? How did he know what Mai and I discussed?

“Identify yourself, immediately,” Tycho snarled.

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself.”

The image of the man flickered on the screen. His face elongated, his mouth stretching into a ghoulish sneer.

One side of the man’s head bubbled outward; the sight reminded Tycho of a larger version of the skin blisters he would get when parts of him remained exposed to direct sunlight for too long without the proper protection.

Just when the man’s head looked like it could swell no further, the image winked out, leaving the holo-display empty.

Tycho stared at the screen, his jaw hanging open.

What the hell just happened? he thought.

“Captain, I’m picking up a gravitational anomaly—”

The android was interrupted by an unseen force exploding against the Icarus III’s outer hull.

Intense shuddering threw Tycho to the cabin floor. He curled into a ball, covering the back of his head with his hands.

Tycho remained this way for several minutes until the quaking ship settled, at which point, he rose and smacked the dust from his pants. He glanced over to see Mai blinking at him, unmoved from the android’s magnetic adherence to its console chair.

“Mai, care to tell me what just happened?” Tycho asked as he returned to his chair.

Before the android could respond, a brilliant violet light flooded the cabin, forcing Tycho to turn away and shield his eyes.

“Solar shields at maximum!” Tycho barked. In his peripheral vision he noticed the light dim.

He looked at his holo-display but it was blank.

“I need info, now! What the hell was that and where is that light coming from?” he asked.

“Captain, there was a gravitational anomaly before the occurrence and now I am detecting the presence of an unknown planetoid that wasn’t on our initial scan of the system,” Mai replied.

Tycho waited for Mai to elaborate, but the android didn’t.

“A new mass? I can’t pick up anything on my display. What damage did we sustain?”

Tycho fiddled with a circuit board on the bottom of his command console. He paused, thinking.

“Was the collection stratum retracted before the event?”

“The stratum were not retracted before the event, but I have initiated retraction protocols now. The stratum sustained thirty-five percent damage but still maintains overall functionality,” Mai said.

Tycho scratched at his chin.

“Well, that’s something at least. And this mass?”

“The new mass has appeared approximately twelve thousand four hundred and sixty-seven kilometers from our current position. It is roughly nine hundred and forty kilometers in diameter,” the android said.

“That’s roughly the size of the asteroid Ceres from the Earth system. What is it?” Tycho asked and rose from the chair.

He approached the cabin window. He wanted to get a peek at this mass, but was also concerned about burning out his retinas.

“Captain, these readings are unique. I’ve never seen their like before. From what I’m gathering, the data suggests the mass is an asteroid-sized stellar mass. It is the source of the light and of the gravitational anomaly,” Mai said.

Tycho reached the window and looked out.

“A stellar mass,” he said, more to himself than to Mai. He took a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the light.

What he saw took his breath away.

The mass was as Mai described, an asteroid-sized violet star.

It was spherical and at its core a maelstrom raged. Arcs of violet lightning crackled across the surface of the mass and the entire thing had a lazy, horizontal rotation.

As Tycho gazed upon the mass sensations of anger and a vast hatred bombarded his psyche. He shook the feeling off.

A sun can’t be angry, he thought. The notion was just absurd. But, where did the strange man go?

The man’s disappearance and the appearance of the strange stellar mass were too coincidental to be anything but related.

"Mai, are you picking up any more gravitational effects on the ship?” Tycho asked.

The android blinked several times.

“No Captain. Currently I’m not detecting any gravitational effects from the mass. The readings are difficult to process. Any celestial body of this size should be exerting some amount gravitational influence, but this one isn’t.”

Mai’s reaction to the mixed readings was a very human one.

“It’s frustrating not knowing, isn’t it Mai?” Tycho said and flashed Mai a brief grin.

“Frustration is a human emotion, Captain—”

“I know, Mai,” Tycho interrupted, “Androids aren’t capable of human emotion.”

“Correct, Captain,” Mai said, then fell silent.

The android stared at him, no doubt processing each facial tick, monitoring his heart rate and his vital signs, trying to decipher the complex thoughts blurring through his mind.

Many people became unnerved at such invasive observations, but in truth Tycho would feel unnerved without it. In a way, it helped him take an objective approach to his own observations.

“Is the A-drive still functional?” Tycho asked. He thought about the steps needed to make a speedy escape, should the situation call for it.

He needed to turn the ship around.

“Rotate the ship one hundred-eighty degrees. Point it directly away from the mass and plot out an emergency jump. It doesn’t have to be far, just far enough,” he said.

“Far enough from what, Captain?” the android asked.

“From that thing,” he said, pointing a finger towards the window.

Tycho’s mind sorted through the events that led him here: the strange signal and Cassini’s hesitancy in telling him of the signal’s existence, the faux Orion representative and his presence at the source of the signal, and the random appearance of this stellar mass.

Coincidence indeed, he thought.

His intuition screamed that he had stumbled upon one of the darker, more ancient aspects of the universe. His intuition was never wrong. What dismal situation had he landed himself in this time?

With a shake of his head, Tycho willed away the defeatist thoughts. He would never find out the truth about Mara unless he saw this through. Even if it killed him, he would learn the truth.

The forgotten ADRF.EXE program flashed across Tycho’s mind.

"Mai, any change in the foreign program?” he said, looking over at the android.

“Very clever, Captain. Yes. I can’t comprehend it, but the locks have been removed and the reverse fire program has been activated. If possible, shall I deactivate it?” Mai said.

“No. Leave it for now,” Tycho said.

“Captain, I strongly suggest deactivation of the program. Its parameters are still unknown and it is dispersed throughout the software of several major ship functions including the A-drive. If it triggers one of those programs it could jump us prematurely to an unknown location or render us immobile and unable to escape,” Mai said.

Tycho put up a hand to silence the android.

“It will be fine.”

“How do you know, Captain?” Mai asked.

“A hunch,” he replied. A bead of sweat trickled down his right temple.

Intuition don’t fail me now, he thought.

“Captain, in this situation it is highly reproachable to act on something as intangible as a hunch,” Mai said, admonishment in its voice.

“Mai, leave it,” Tycho said, not raising his own voice. He didn’t need to.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Captain Tycho Brahe, Avatar of the Traveler. What think you of my true form?” said a strange voice that echoed throughout the cabin, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

"Alas, I am smaller than usual as my energy sources are dwindling, but that’s why I’ve brought you here.”

The voice was masculine and possessed a familiar malicious quality to it.

Tycho looked around the cabin, his gaze searching for the source of the voice.

He looked at Mai, but the android shrugged.

Tycho turned back to gaze out the cabin window.

"That’s right Captain, come look upon all that I am. Now you know my true form.”

The words drifted upon the air like a thin mist.

“Mai, what’s the status of the mass?” Tycho asked. The mass’s rotation had depreciated and Tycho took it as an ill omen.

“Captain, the mass is periodically exerting radio waves. They coincide with the timing of the audio transmissions we are receiving.”

“I was afraid of that,” he grumbled.

"Yes, now you are afraid, Captain. As you should be,” the voice said.

Tycho turned back towards the cabin window, surprised.

“So, you can hear us?” Tycho asked.

Despite the dark intent he suspected at play, Tycho couldn’t help but feel a sense of momentary intrigue. The explorer in him jumped at the chance to witness an unobserved phenomenon in the universe.

It was this curiosity that kept him from jumping the Icarus III out of the system when the mass appeared. He hoped his curiosity wouldn’t get him killed. He hoped his quest for the truth wouldn’t end as he assumed it had ended for Mara.

Despite the logic-defying nature of the situation, Tycho believed that mass and the strange man were somehow connected, if not one and the same being.

Cassini had been right. There was a hand moving behind the curtain. The more Tycho pulled the thread, the more this whole situation unraveled. Could it really have started with Albert Brahe, his distant progenitor?

Tycho felt he was on the verge of one of the greatest discoveries of the universe, but at what cost?

All the information pointed to a stellar mass that possessed awareness and intelligence. It was a discovery of life far more advanced than the microbial stew that was found scattered throughout the universe.

The downside was that this came at a price. Tycho sensed no benevolence from this creature. In fact, he sensed a darkness, and to an extent an evil. But his intrigue was winning out. He had to know more.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” the voice said.

“How?” Tycho asked.

"Let’s not bandy over trivialities. Ask one of those questions burning in your mind,” said the creature.

Tycho took a moment to collect his thoughts. He wanted to know about this creature and how it came to be. What marvelous circumstances led to its creation?

There was a question though that burned even hotter than any of that. A question that trumped Tycho’s deep passion for the unknown.

“Where is my wife?” he asked, his demeanor calm.

“And, there it is,” the voice cooed.

“The answer is not so simple. But yes, I do know the answer.” The creature’s ramblings took on a crazed quality.

“I am the reason why the physical shell of your wife’s soul is no longer in existence. Yes, it was my doing. Yes, yes, yes. It was all me!”

Tycho’s heart fluttered.

The long-abandoned anguish took root within him once again.

“Are you responsible for the deaths of my family?” he asked, struggling to contain the trembling in his voice. He knew the answer before the creature responded.

"Again, the answer is complex, but yes. It was I.”

Tears of white hot anger formed at the corners of Tycho’s eyes.

It was this monster that was responsible for the loss of his beloved wife, the loss of his family. A father Tycho never knew, a grandfather as well.

“Why?”

The question was all Tycho could manage.

"Put simply, for survival,” the creature said.

“Damn it!” Tycho slammed his hand down on the metallic window frame. “That’s not good enough. Explain why,” he snarled. He needed to know why his wife had been taken from him. Not that it would make any difference.

She was dead.

"I am willing to overlook your behavior due to your heightened emotional state, but speak to me again in that manner and I shall destroy you outright, Captain. Now calm yourself and I shall grant you the explanation you desire before you join your wife.”

“Mai, jump us out of here,” Tycho said. A dark expression crossed his face.

"I wouldn’t recommend trying to flee, Captain. There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you, and that is assuming you can even escape here with your life.”

“Mai, jump!” Tycho yelled.

“Captain,” Mai replied. “The creature is reacting. Its rotation is increasing exponentially.”

“I don’t give a damn what it’s doing. Get us out of here, now!” Tycho yelled and hurried to his chair to strap himself in.

"I warned you, Captain.”

“Captain, I’m detecting a portion of the mass separating from the main body. The creature is ejecting a coronal mass.” Mai’s voice was clipped. “Estimated time to impact, one minute twenty-seven seconds.”

“How long until we can fire the A-drive?”

Tycho’s mind raced in time with the frantic beating of his heart.

Things were falling apart. He now realized it was a mistake to come here, to disregard Cassini’s advice. He may pay for the mistake with his life. Had his intuition failed him?

“Three minutes is the soonest I can have the A-drive ready,” Mai said.

“Then prepare for impact,” Tycho said. “Pump as much power as we can spare into the EM shields.”

The coronal mass ejection slammed into the Icarus III.

The ship tossed and quaked as Tycho clung to his chair’s harness.

Amidst the groans of his ship, he was bombarded with a barrage of multicolored warning lights that flared to life on the control board.

He feared the violent shaking would split the ship apart, but soon the quaking slowed then stopped altogether.

Tycho looked over at Mai.

The android had somehow remained in the same position as before the impact.

“Mai, run a diagnostic check. What’s our status?”

Mai turned to the control board and hammered in commands at an inhuman pace.

“Hull breaches in stations three, six, seven and nine. I have sealed those areas. Our EM shields have been fully depleted. We will not be able to sustain another attack of that magnitude,” Mai said.

“What about the A-drive?” Tycho asked in alarm. His knuckles turned white from his death grip on the edges of his chair and he forced his fingers to relax.

“The A-drive remains undamaged.”

Tycho released a breath. He didn’t know why but the thought of the A-drive still being functional put him at ease, if only just.

“Captain, there is something else. The foreign program has activated”

“Activated?” Tycho responded, leaning forward against his chair’s harness.

“Yes, Captain. The software encryption has been removed. I believe—”

Tycho slashed his hand through the air and pointed to the cabin window.

The android blinked at him several times and then seemed to get the message. Whatever was happening with the program, Tycho didn’t want the creature being privy to that information.

A thought surfaced in Tycho’s mind.

The reverse fire program was accessible after direct contact with the creature. Given how the program was worked into the ship’s network, it seemed the energy signature of the creature was the key to unlocking the program.

Perhaps this was the end-product of Mara’s impressive foresight.

New hope swelled in Tycho’s chest. Maybe this wasn’t the end after all.

If he could just string the creature along, he could activate the program somehow and escape. He had no idea how large the resulting singularity would be or if it would even affect the creature, but he had to try something.

For all he knew, the effects of the singularity’s gravitational force would be too much for the Icarus III to break through and they would be crushed down to nothingness and swallowed by the void.

It was a chance Tycho had to take. He knew of no other way and this creature was guaranteeing his death.

Tycho looked at Mai.

The android was watching him.

He pointed to Mai, pointed two fingers to his eyes, and then pointed to himself. He then put up his hand in a stop motion.

Mai nodded once.

“Are you still there?” Tycho said. “Forgive me. I had a moment of panic. Please, don’t destroy my ship. I am at your mercy.”

"Oh Captain, I am glad to see you have regained a measure of decorum. As delicious as it would be, I’d hate to see the Traveler’s avatar give in to such fear.”

Tycho keyed in a message to Mai’s terminal explaining that he wanted the Icarus III rotated to point nose-first at the creature’s center. He added that he wanted the reverse fire program prepped and ready to fire.

“I’m sorry, I—I momentarily forgot myself.” He infused his voice with subtle desperation.

It must have worked.

An airy chuckle filled the cabin.

“I find it truly fascinating how living creatures, humans in particular, are so quick to change their mentality for a few extra seconds of life.”

“You mentioned the Traveler before. What is that? Why do you refer to me in that way?” Tycho asked, trying to keep the creature talking. He needed to wait until the creature was vulnerable before initiating the reverse fire, and to do that he needed time.

"Well, I suppose it would cost nothing to start from the beginning. After all, it isn’t as if you are going anywhere.” The chuckling resumed, dripping with that sweet venom.

What an arrogant creature, Tycho thought. Powerful, yes, but arrogant. I can use that.

"It began several thousand years ago, by your time-keeping standards. I—we were an advanced race of explorer-conquerors. A superior race.”

Tycho found the creature’s haughty tone quite distasteful.

"We traveled the stars, seeking new worlds and harvesting those worlds for their resources. We cared nothing for the civilizations that inhabited them. They were not of us and therefore mattered little to us.”

“That is a rather xenophobic approach, don’t you think?” Tycho said. How many civilizations had been decimated by this superior race?

Tycho noticed a message from Mai on his terminal.

It would take just under twenty minutes to prep the reverse fire. He had to keep stringing this creature along.

"We were not afraid of these civilizations. They simply weren’t worth our consideration.”

“And what of the inhabitants that could resist you?” Tycho asked.

"We rarely encountered another race as advanced as we, and when we did, we simply avoided them.”

Cowards, he thought.

"You may find such actions as cowardly, but this was not the case. I have no doubt we could have easily eradicated any of them. It was simply...more efficient to avoid them. Remember, we were after resources, not altercations” the creature said.

“Indeed,” Tycho murmured.

"As such,” the creature continued, ”we failed in the end. None of our race wished to live outside of our home planet. This vastly restricted our ability to grow beyond our own solar system,” the creature said, then paused.

“It was a grave error that eventually led to our downfall. Our host star reached the end of its natural lifespan, and due to its size, imploded in on itself to create a singularity. We believed ourselves impervious to the effects of such a force, thinking we were too far away to be affected and our technology too great should it reach us. We were wrong.”

An eerie sadness tinged the creature’s voice. Tycho could feel the anguish in its words. He found himself captivated by the creature’s tale, despite the present danger the creature posed.

“It devoured your planet?” he asked.

The creature remained silent for several moments before answering.

"Yes.”

Tycho puzzled over the creature’s response.

“You refer to this race as ’we’ implying that you were somehow there. How is this possible considering your species was destroyed?” Tycho asked.

"Generally, surviving an event of that magnitude would be impossible for any biological species, and I’m not exactly certain how it happened. I imagine it had to do with the nature of my species.

“As technologically advanced as we were, we also had a highly-developed mental aptitude. We were connected as a species, telepathically. This type of mind-collective allowed our race to take our technology farther, allowed us to do more despite any physical barriers.”

“Essentially, your species possessed something akin to a hive mentality?” Tycho asked.

"Yes. And no. Each of us was unique unto ourselves and therefore had none leading the others, but we still shared a unified mind. Returning to your question, it is my belief that at the moment of my planet’s destruction, the psyche of my race was protected somehow, preserved as the black hole devoured the remnants of my broken planet.”

“That sounds rather fantastical, wouldn’t you say?” he said.

"Perhaps. I have no other valid explanation. Perhaps ‘psyche’ is the wrong word. Perhaps ‘memory’ would be more sufficient. The memory of my people was preserved within the singularity,” the creature said.

Tycho pondered this.

“That still doesn’t explain how you came to be.”

"Patience, dear Captain. I believe the simplest way to explain it would be to reflect on the human concept of a Plank star. Surely, you are familiar with the concept.”

“I am. It is a theory concerning black holes in which the information devoured by the singularity isn’t lost, but rather held for a time. As the black hole leaks radiation it degrades until eventually the black hole collapses and much of the devoured information is released as a mass known as a Plank star,” he said.

Could this creature be an intelligent Plank star? he wondered.

"A very base explanation, but yes. I believe that upon the degradation of the host black hole of my solar system, the preserved memory of my species was released along with the material that was also devoured. At that moment, the memory of my race merged with the resulting mass of material and thus I, Solarion, was born. An evolutionary miracle, wouldn’t you say?”

“You believe this to be a circumstance of evolution? That’s preposterous. Seems to me to be a freak accident of nature,” Tycho said. He was trying to incite the vain creature into making a mistake.

"The odds of such an occurrence are astronomical. This was no mere accident, but a sign that my species was meant to carry on, to continue our conquest. Through me, my race is made immortal,” Solarion said.

The creature’s words struck Tycho as religious fanaticism rather than anything scientific. This zealous attitude reminded Tycho of the position he was in, and a stern expression crept back into his face.

He checked the time left on the reverse fire program. Just a little longer until it would be functional.

“This still doesn’t explain why you go around murdering innocent organisms, why you had to murder my wife and my family.” Heat bled back into Tycho’s words.

As the haze of mystery surrounding Solarion faded, the Captain’s desire for revenge burned hotter.

“You mentioned survival. How does the blatant destruction of life grant you survival?” Tycho asked, his heavy with defiance.

"You are becoming agitated. Then I shall finish quickly before we return to the business at hand. To simplify this for your pathetic human mind, imagine every living creature possesses a life force, or a spirit, if you prefer. Such an energy is my resource, the object sought through my conquests. This energy sustains me, allowing for unending life. As long as I have creatures to devour, I will never cease to exist.”

Tycho stared out the cabin window, aghast. The people this creature, Solarion, had killed, they were merely batteries?

Mara had died to become a fucking battery for a murderous alien? Rage like nothing he’d ever felt boiled in Tycho’s chest.

“Why me?” Tycho asked in a strained voice. “All of this...death. For what? Because I possess a strong spirit to fuel your immortality?”

"You possess the strongest spirit. The spirit of the Traveler. Once every few thousand years a creature appears with such strength of spirit. Such a resource would fuel me for thousands of years. Surely, you have realized by now you possess abilities among the stars that raise you above other humans.

“Your spirit is unique, a piece from a force that existed back when time was immaterial. From what I have gathered over the millennia, the Avatar of the Traveler is connected, in some fashion, to the very fabric of the universe. I wish to ascertain why such a connection often exists within such base creatures.”

“So, your ultimate desire is to consume the energy contained in my spirit?” Tycho asked.

"Captain, you could not begin to fathom my ultimate desires, but yes that is my immediate desire,” Solarion replied.

“Very well. Mai, activate self-destruct protocols,” Tycho said and winked at the android.

"You wish to destroy yourself, Captain?” Solarion’s voice wavered.

Tycho figured he must have struck the right chord.

“Why not? If I’m a dead man anyway, why should I give you what you want? You’re a murderous life form with incredible power. For the good of all life, I should do everything in my power to stop you.”

Tycho let that sink in for several moments before continuing.

“Besides, I have nothing left to live for. You’ve taken everything from me. If sacrificing myself throws a kink in your plan, at least I will die with a modicum of satisfaction,” he said.

"An interesting theory, and yes I will admit that denying me my resource would cause me great difficulty. Perhaps, the denial of sustenance would starve me to the point of immobility.”

"If such is the case, you seem rather composed in facing such a potential crisis,” he said.

"That is because I know the outcome of this encounter. You have yet to hear my proposal.”

“Proposal?” Tycho asked in surprise.

An airy sigh floated through the cabin.

"What would you give to see your wife again, to explore the cosmos with her unhindered by physical and biological restraints? Such a life would perfectly suit your desires, would it not?”

Tycho started at Solarion’s words.

“My wife lives?”

"In a manner. Her spirit remains intact. I have not tapped into her life force yet, nor will I should you chose willingly to come with me. You have spirit enough to both sustain my immortality and to maintain your cognizance for thousands of years. Should you let me take you, I will show you the true mysteries of the universe, things that you can’t even begin to dream of, all of which you will experience with your wife by your side,” Solarion purred.

Tycho took a moment to process the creature’s revelation.

Mara lived, so to speak. She existed in such a manner that would allow him to see her again, and what’s more, to remain with her for countless years.

He would have unparalleled access to the greatest phenomena of the universe, and he could do it without fear of aging, of death, of any restraints that time or the human body held over him.

He could have everything he ever dreamed of and more.

But--the cost. The price of his soul. The guilt of knowing that his life would contribute to countless deaths in the future.

A creature like Solarion would always need more: more life, more death, more. It seemed ingrained in the creature’s nature, in its composition.

Tycho yearned to be with Mara again, even if such an existence was little better than enslavement to a great and terrible power.

He looked down to see a message on his console from Mai.

The reverse fire was ready.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

Mara had once said, the universe is about balance, from the greatest scale to the smallest. Everything within adheres to the nature of that balance. Life and death, destruction and creation. Everything plays a part and all is connected, and the universe will always provide a way to balance itself.

Tycho made his decision.

“Forgive me, Mara,” he whispered. “Mai, activate the reverse fire.”

A high-pitched whine filled the cabin.

Tycho watch as a beam of anti-particles lanced forward towards the core of Solarion.

"If you will not come willingly, I will take your soul by force! Your paltry means stand no chance of defeating me. There is nothing you can do. I will melt your flesh and turn your bones to dust. I will drain every bit of life from your wife’s soul all while you witness, and then I will allow you to remain for thousands of years while the torment of your failure devours what little awareness you have left. YOU ARE MINE!” Solarion shrieked.

“Captain, I have detected another coronal mass ejection from the creature. This one is twice the size of the former. Our EM shields don’t have the power to deflect it. We will take a fatal blow,” Mai said.

Tycho sat back in his chair and re-buckled the harness.

“What are our chances of surviving this next one?” he asked, attempting to master his thundering heart.

“Less than point two percent.”

Mai’s fingers were a blur of activity, hammering commands and funneling through data at break-neck speed.

“Can we jump?” Tycho said and started churning through data on his own holo-display.

“Negative, Captain. The reverse fire used the last remnant of power stored in the A-drive.”

“Did the reverse fire work?” he said. He kept his voice calm despite the anxiety crawling over his skin.

“I am detecting strange gravitational readings at Solarion’s core. I believe a singularity is forming,” Mai said. The android sounded eager.

“Then we die fighting. Beam all information we received from this encounter to Cassini at Space Corps. He will want the data and a recounting of what happened,” Tycho said with satisfaction.

“Message sent, Captain. Impact in thirty seconds.”

Mai’s face held an expression that Tycho could have sworn was one of sadness.

“It has been an honor serving you, Captain,” the android said.

With a sorrowful smile Tycho looked at Mai.

“Mai, the pleasure was—is, all mine. Thanks for sticking this out until the end. I’m sorry I couldn’t get us through this one.”

Mai nodded once.

“Impact in five,”

"Four

"Three

“Two

"One.”

Sound exploded through the cabin as the ship quivered under the powerful force.

Everywhere around Tycho sparks flew and circuitry snaked through the air. At some point, the straps of his harness broke and he was tossed over the edge of his chair like a rag-doll.

Violet light poured in through the cabin just as Tycho was slammed down onto the unforgiving metal floor of the cabin. The core of his being quaked, down to his very bones.

A rushing sound caused Tycho to look up at the cabin window.

It was gone and everything in the cabin flew towards the breach, Tycho included. His head slammed hard into a bulkhead, dazing him.

This is it, he thought. We did it Mara.

Just before he blacked out, the explosive noise of the crippled ship ceased, along with the gusting oxygen escaping the cabin.

For a moment, all fell silent. Nothing moved.

"Tycho.” A small feminine voice drifted to his ears.

"Tycho.”

Tycho opened his one working eye, wincing at the bolts of pain lancing through his head.

He was supine on the cabin floor and could see Mai’s inert form sprawled out a few meters away. The android’s head was twisted around and Mai’s limbs were jutting out at abnormal angles.

A feint blue light radiated from the cabin window.

Tycho pulled himself up to see and froze in place.

A battle of violet and pale blue energies raged just beyond the Icarus III’s hull. The maelstrom of purple energy surged as it attempted to crash down on the broken ship, but the blue light held firm, shielding the scarred vessel.

The cabin pressurized despite the gaping orifice where the window used to be.

"Tycho.”

The soft voice sounded from Tycho’s right, causing him to jump in surprise and pain.

He couldn’t feel his legs or the left side of his body, and he was bleeding from a wound to his head. His left eye wasn’t working either and he wondered if it was even still contained within his skull. He didn’t bother to check himself out further. He was dead anyway and he accepted it.

"Tycho, please! There isn’t much time.”

Tycho looked towards the voice and saw the translucent blue form of a woman. The form was standing with its arms outstretched towards the open window and looked to be under great strain.

As Tycho focused, he recognized the woman’s face. She looked like Mara.

“Mara?” he asked, his voice shaking as bad as the rest of him.

"Yes, sweetheart. I have to hurry. I can only hold Solarion for so long. The singularity you created is working, but he is still very powerful. I’m going to activate your jump drive and jump you out,” she said. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes shone with determination.

“No! Mara please! I—I can’t—don’t leave.” Tycho bumbled through his words. With desperation, he crawled towards her corporeal form.

"I’m so sorry, Tycho. I tried to fight back, to stop Solarion, but I was too late in the end. The answers came too late.”

Mara’s form quivered for a few seconds and Tycho thought she would buckle under the violent force she was combating.

“No, no, no!”

Tycho reached for Mara with his functional arm, fingers spread wide.

“Please...”

Darkness seeped into the corners of his mind.

"Mara!"

"I’m sorry, Tycho. I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

“No--”

Tycho’s arm dropped and darkness overcame him.

"I love you.”

***

Tycho awoke amidst stiff white sheets and the scent of rubbing alcohol.

The medical bay of Space Corps, he thought.

George Cassini tossed and turned in a plastic chair at Tycho’s bedside.

“George,” Tycho croaked.

Cassini jumped, then wiped at a spot of drool on his uniform.

“Tycho, you’re awake! By the stars, I never would have believed it. Especially after the condition we found you in,” he said.

“Water, please,” Tycho rasped. His throat felt raw, chaffed.

“Of course,” Cassini said. He poured Tycho a glass, put a straw in it, then pressed the straw to Tycho’s lips.

Tycho gulped until he could feel water sloshing around in his stomach.

“Rest some more. We can talk later,” Cassini said, setting the glass of water down and regaining his position in the chair.

Tycho nodded and let a dreamless sleep overtake him. If he’d had it his way, he wouldn’t be waking up again.

He slept for another two days before waking, putting him at five days from the incident with Solarion.

After some light food and a vast amount of water, Tycho and Cassini recounted the experience.

Tycho didn’t leave a single detail out, including the part where he saw Mara.

When he finished his recounting, he waited in silence for Cassini’s reply.

The old goat scratched at his beard and nodded to himself.

“We were able to figure out most of that from the data you sent. What intrigued us the most was what happened after you popped up in Space Corps’ back yard. It’s almost too crazy to believe. A living star.” Cassini let his mind roll over the idea for a moment.

“All stars are alive, George,” Tycho said, as he leaned back against his pillow.

“You know what I mean. And Mara... Do you really think it was her?”

Tycho turned away from Cassini and his question.

“Yes.”

“Ah, well I’ll let you be. I’m sorry about Mara my boy. And for not telling you. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back.” Cassini’s voice was heavy with guilt.

Tycho didn’t have the strength to remain angry with George, much less the strength to feel anything.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” George said as he shuffled towards the door with slumped shoulders.

“George?” Tycho said.

Cassini stopped and turned his head to look at Tycho.

Tycho held up a thumb and smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. You did what you thought was right. You were trying to protect me. I can respect that.”

Cassini let out a deep breath, a spark of the spirited laughter igniting in his eyes.

“Of course, of course. Take all the time you need. I know it doesn’t really matter, but with the data you collected, you could retire. They will need to make a whole new category of captains because of you,” he said, with a chuckle.

Cassini turned and walked out of Tycho’s room.

Tycho remained in the medical bay for a few more days.

During that time, Tycho learned that Thomas Cassini had salvaged the Icarus III and, after a week of break-neck repairs, had the ship ready and waiting for its captain.

George had told Tycho that, while the ship itself was running better than ever, they had installed a temporary A.I. in place of Mai.

They had been able to repair the physical damage to the android, but there was a problem rebooting the subroutines of the android’s brain, something about an unknown layer of encryption within Mai’s neural network.

Tycho hoped they could restore the android. It was his closest, and really his only friend.

Back aboard the Icarus III, Tycho reminisced over the events of his encounter with Solarion. He struggled to make sense of it all, to piece the events back together in full.

Had she really been there? Had she really saved him and his ship? Thousands of questions pulled his weary mind in every direction.

“Captain, the ship is prepared for departure,” the new android said.

The android, designation N267, was humanoid in form only, without the human-like features Mai possessed. This android still had its original metallic frame, complete with exposed circuitry at the joints and a pair of glowing red eyes. N267 also lacked Mai’s personality chips and A.I. learning enhancements.

Tycho was thankful for that. He didn’t want another Mai. The android was irreplaceable.

“Take us out and prepare to jump,” Tycho said.

Tycho had declined George’s offer of retirement. He knew he belonged out there in the great black expanse. He no longer felt the dark anguish that had plagued him for the past year.

Now, Tycho was numb. He believed this was a result of Mara’s final passing. He took some comfort in the fact that now her spirit could rest undisturbed, and that a creature like Solarion would no longer prey upon the innocent.

No, Tycho would continue to explore the universe. It’s where he belonged, he knew. He had always known. The stars would lead his soul to peace.

“Captain,” N267 said. “I am receiving a transmission from Thomas Cassini of Orion Industries.”

“Patch it through,” Tycho replied. Perhaps Thomas had word of Mai’s repairs.

A moment later, a leaner, hawkish version of George Cassini appeared on his holo-display.

“Tycho,” Thomas said with a curt nod of the head.

“Thomas,” Tycho replied, mimicking the gesture.

“I’m glad to see you are back aboard the Icarus. I trust everything is in working order?” Thomas said. He was ever the icon of formality.

“Yes, everything is in ship shape, as the saying goes,” Tycho said.

“Excellent.”

A moment of silence passed, in which Thomas took Tycho’s measure with his eyes.

“Thomas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My god man, I can’t begin to apologize enough. I couldn’t save her. She was right there, and I couldn’t—” Tycho’s voice quavered and his words vomited from his mouth in a chaotic deluge.

“It’s alright, son.” Thomas’s voice softened. What he saw in Tycho affirmed the young captain’s words.

“I don’t hold you responsible for what happened to Mara. This creature, Solarion, carries the fault, or did. And Mara was nothing if not independent and strong willed. You did everything you could. I firmly believe that.”

“Thank you,” Tycho whispered. Thomas’s words meant more to him than he’d expected them to.

“Do you have news of Mai?” Tycho asked.

Thomas brought his hands together to rest on top of his desk, his fingers meeting at the tips.

“Yes, in fact,” he said. He opened his mouth to say more but stopped, thinking better of it.

“How is she?” Tycho asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow in response to the question. In true Cassini fashion, he took several seconds before answering.

"She has been rebooted and seems desperate to speak with you.”

“Well, what’s the problem? Put Mai on,” Tycho said. He didn’t care to waste time dealing with Cassini vagaries.

“I believe this is a matter best addressed in person. We have placed the android in stasis for the time being. Would you be able to come by on your way out?”

Tycho jumped at the chance to see Mai again.

“Of course Thomas. I’ll head right there,” Tycho said, flashing Thomas a grin.

“Excellent. Forgive my lack of detail, but it is best that you see with your own eyes.”

“See what?” Tycho asked, caution creeping into his voice.

“First, let me ask you this. Do the words, the universe will always provide a way to balance itself, mean anything to you?”

Tycho started at Thomas’s word, choked on his spit in his excitement, and spent the next few minutes struggling through a coughing fit.

Once he regained his breath, he answered.

“Yes. Mara said that to me once when we were visiting the dancers. But, how? I never knew she told anyone about that conversation.”

Thomas remained motionless, puzzling at something on his mind.

“Upon rebooting, of its own volition I might add, the android first called for you by name. The android’s outbursts suggested a fault in its base code. I started to initiate stasis protocols for maintenance, but before shutting down the android said, ‘Tell him the universe will always provide a way to rebalance itself.’ I decided it would be best to let you address the android before any further repairs were made. Do you have any idea what any of this means?”

“She’s alive,” Tycho whispered.

“Excuse me?” Thomas leaned forward. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Yes, I have an idea.” Tycho couldn’t keep his hands form trembling. Can it be? he thought.

“I’ll head that way immediately,” he said.

Thomas’s gaze bored into Tycho for several seconds, analyzing his every facial twitch and movement, before leaning back in his chair.

“Very good. I’ll be expecting you.”

The holo-display went black.

“Orders, Captain?” N267 asked.

Tycho stood from his chair and walked towards the cabin window.

Stretching as far as the eye could see was a blanket of black with twinkling points of light shining like diamonds in a sea of darkness.

A small smile crept into the corners of Tycho’s mouth.

“Set destination for Orion.”

“Destination set, Captain,” N267 replied.

The universe will always provide a way to balance itself, Tycho thought.

“Jump.”