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ConFleet Outpost
268
The Milky Way Galaxy, Spinward Rim
The Olivia System, Rod Quadrant, Argent Sector
MAR 16 2795/2795.075; 1705 Hours (CST)
Lieutenant JG Miller docked her R7-type shuttle with the lonely outpost, distinguished from other outposts only by its registry number. The Space Navy used to have these outposts manned by two-man crews, until a recent report made by the Confederation Medical Association indicated that it was psychologically damaging, and a vote by the assembly soon banned the use of crews in these perimeter stations. Now, the Navy was trying to send in people to modify the existing outposts to make them autonomous.
"All right people, let’s get this done!" Miller motioned for the others in the shuttle to move through the docking collar and into the outpost. She was just about to follow when something outside through the shuttle canopy caught her eye.
A single green pebble against the backdrop of space, shining like jade. And in a flash, it was joined by others. Hundreds of them. Thousands.
The stars shimmered, twisting away. Something seemed to squeeze itself through the fabric of space, and suddenly, an enormous boomerang-shaped ship contorted into existence, a gleaming pyramid atop its mass.
Miller stood up, in shock, the realization of what materialized before her slowly setting in. Her mind refused to believe what her eyes recognized. She’d seen those ships before, on the news-vids.
The Steltek were here.
In a single heart beat, the egg-shaped black and green ships the massive craft released accelerated towards them, their bumpy hulls glowing with reflected starlight as they screamed through. One of the Drones made an abrupt turn, slowing. Its forward weapons powered up, and before Miller could think, it discharged. A sweeping wave of green energy lashed over them, and the outpost literally burned up, disintegrating.
The Drone reignited its engines and boosted past the flaking embers.
The Steltek were here.
Hiveworld; The
Palisade
The Canés Venatici Galaxy
The Omega Delta System, Sector Alpha-Tango-Theta
2055 Hours (CST)
Supreme Overseer Choohan departed the transport, carefully maneuvering his custom fit hover pad into the landing hall. The light passenger craft let off a barely audible hiss behind him before beginning its long ascent back up the entry/exit cavern of the Palisade.
No one questioned him as he went on his way. In this place, no one ever asked questions. If a Steltek thought themself reputable enough to stand within the mountain walls of the Palisade, the sacred heart and soul of the Steltek Magistry since the beginning of time as it started anew after the Exodus, they were there on business. The Lesser Overseers had pestered him before he left for Hiveworld, but he would not answer to them. Choohan had come to the Hiveworld on business, but not business so trivial that he could take it before subordinates. Certainly not. He had an appointment with the Head of the Magistry, and he had to go to Hiveworld to do it.
If one sought the ear of the Prime Leader of the Steltek Magistry, one spoke to Him in person.
Over the last five centuries, Choohan had the need to speak to the Prime Leader on but five occasions, as only matters of the absolute highest importance could dare be bothered upon Him. The first was for Choohan’s Rite of Ascension to become Supreme Overseer, the second was to discuss the retrieval of the derelict Steltek vessel left in Heathen space over a century ago, the third was to debate what should be done about the situation with the Heathen-encroached, former Steltek planet Cynium, the fourth was to discuss the preparation for the scouting run into Heathen space two years ago, and the last was to plan the latest offensive.
Choohan passed through the mist-laden Central Node, hovering past a patrolling squad of Elite and entering the even danker Inner Sanctum.
There, beyond the Three Chancellors of the Magistry, seated on a mass of intertwining biomechanical feeds that ran into every pore of His bulbous body, was Prime Leader Stravakis. Some of the plant-like feeds snaked off into the floor, others trailed up into the walls and down into floor basins.
Stravakis was the most respected and worshipped prime leader to ever hold the unequaled position, being credited not only with the reunification of the once-shattered Steltek Magistry, but a lifetime of work toward the Purpose. To think, He was approaching His four thousandth conception date, and He had held His place for well over three thousand of those years. Choohan was fast approaching his first millennium, but was still regarded by the elders as sakkin; as ignorant with youth.
"Supreme Overseer," the sagely Prime Leader addressed Choohan. Some of the feeds quivered as He spoke, and a slight squishing sound could be heard. "You have come to me."
"Yes, Prime Leader."
"And you have brought news."
"Yes, Prime Leader."
"You will speak of this news."
Choohan nodded, his head tendrils twirling in the Steltek showing of submission and respect. "The strike you ordered at the Heathens’ Olivia System was a complete success."
The feeds twitched, more so than before. "Tell me."
"The vanguard Maraudership I sent ravaged the entire system. Five Heathen-populated starbases and their compliments were eradicated."
"Then the vindication continues," the Prime Leader seethed. "But it will delay no longer. We have waited long enough."
"Prime Leader?"
"Our race has suffered enough indignities. The Steltek have lost enough. It is time now to regain what was lost." The Prime Leader’s feeds strained against His body. "The scouting, the planning—that ends now. The righteous fire must be rained down upon the Heathens like never before. The Terrans and their ilk do not appreciate the worlds they have spread their poisonous seed across. Since the day they crawled from the primordial soup of their motherworlds, they have done little but destroy, bringing world after world to ruin with them."
"Worlds that were once ours, millennia ago. The Heathens claimed them in our stead." Try as he might to hate them, Choohan was a wise enough Steltek to know that the Heathens could not be blamed for being Heathens. They could no more help the wrong they were doing to the former Steltek territory than a sakkin could help being a sakkin. But facts were facts. The Heathens treated their worlds as commodities to be used up, then cast away in favor of new ones. The Steltek were one with the worlds they inhabited, and treated their land no different than they would treat their own kind. The Palisade itself had been hollowed out of a dormant mountainside on Hiveworld—there had been no incineration of forests, no demolishing of nature. Heathens were global parasites; the Steltek were in harmony with their environment. The Purpose was alien to Heathens.
Choohan had been the first Steltek to meet a Heathen. Over a century ago he had been assigned the task of removing a derelict Steltek vessel from the Heathens’ Delta Prime System, in what they called the Gemini Sector. He flew a light scoutship, generated a subspatial wormhole, and appeared directly in front of a Heathen "privateer." The Heathen had taken a Steltek cannon and wondered why a Steltek droneship had taken pursuit of him. Choohan had explained to him that the droneship was programmed to seek out and destroy all remnants of Steltek technology from the galaxy, and that with the Steltek cannon installed, the Heathen was its target. He had actually made a deal with the Heathen, giving the privateer enough power to destroy the droneship in exchange for the security that the Heathen would not reveal the location of the derelict Steltek vessel, giving Choohan enough time to move the vessel back into Steltek space. It was a derelict vessel indeed, Choohan recalled. An archaic Hiveship, predating the development of the Marauderships that the Steltek now employed by over two millennia.
"Yes, Supreme Overseer, you understand our plight. As any true Steltek should." The phosphorescence in the Prime Leader’s age-clouded retinas shimmered brightly. "But it ends on this day. We must cut our losses and give the Heathens no quarter. We offered them peaceful exile, but they mock us, destroy our vessels. No more."
Choohan ran his gaze over the Three High Chancellors of the Magistry, each standing regally with placid composures. His facial tendrils stood up attentively—he at last understood the Prime Leader’s intent. "Then..."
"Yes. It begins."