GREY WING #1 - "Prisoners of Ouroboros"

“To any vessel in range — this is Outpost Avalon! We're under attack! Many colonists have been killed! They’ve taken the children. Please—”

MISSION LOG: SSC Excalibur

CAPT. Hank “Grey Wing” Hawkins - Squad Leader

DATE: 777.10.2 A.E.

REGION: Zeta Perimeter

OBJECTIVE: Recover captured colonists. Eliminate all alien threats.

The Frontier – the edge of civilized space. Life for colonists was not for the faint of heart. However, the intrepid souls that chose to settle there did so for many reasons: more breathing space, more peace, and a new horizon of opportunities amongst the stars.

Unfortunately, these things come at a cost. For the last six months, frontier colonies had been attacked by an unknown threat. They came without warning, striking with a cold and merciless precision. By the time the Space Force appeared on the scene, it was too late. Hundreds of humans, including children, had been taken away into the darkest corners of the cosmos. Weeping and wailing is all that the attackers left in their wake. If any mission were to boil the blood of Captain Hank Hawkins…it would be this one.

“BLAST THOSE FIENDS!” roared Hawkins, slamming his fists against the metal table. His voice echoed down the corridors of the SSC Excalibur, causing all passing crewmembers to freeze in their tracks. “What kind of monster kidnaps children?!” Everyone gathered around the table, even Commander Martel, recoiled in shock from Hawkins’ outburst. Grey Wing had never lost his composure like that before. Zora placed her hand on Hank’s quivering shoulder.

“Peace, Captain,” she said gently, “There will be a time for your anger, but it is not now.” This particular crisis cut deep into Hank’s heart, reopening a lifelong scar he had never fully recovered from. But reckless anger would not heal this wound, nor would it help him rescue the missing colonists. Hank took a few slow breaths and settled down. Zora smiled softly at him. Her elven grace was better than any remedy. Despite being one of the last of her species, Zora’s tender positivity was contagious to all around her.

“You’re right,” said Commander Martel, “Whoever is responsible will meet justice soon enough. But, we can’t fall to pieces just yet. Our people need us to be strong. Dr. Moon, what is your analysis?”

“It would appear that these attacks are originating from a single point in space,” began Dr. Moon, adjusting his monocle and motioning to the holographic display at the center of the table. “This point is at a juncture that can reach all of our frontier colonies along the Zeta Perimeter. This would be the most logical place to search first.”

“Excellent,” said Martel, “Plot a course through the Aether Zone immediately. We don’t have time to waste. Captain Hawkins, have you selected your squad members for this mission?”

“Yes, sir,” said Hank, “Zora will accompany me as an interpreter, along with Ms. Jetz for engineering, and Dr. Moon for further scientific analysis.”

“And what about me?” said A-Jax in his booming voice. He pushed himself forward, showing off his polished chrome plating.

“Are you sure you want to come?” said Hank, “I figured you could use a break …considering what happened last time.”

“Please!” said Jax, “That wasn’t the first time I’ve been blown up, and it won’t be the last! I’m coming too. I’d hate to miss all the excitement.”

“Alright, alright,” said Hank, “A-Jax will join the mission for extra security.

“And, if need be, demolitions,” said Jax. Martel grinned ever so slightly and nodded his head.

“Very well then. Your mission begins now, Captain,” he said before saluting the team, “Rise to the Challenge!”

“Rise to the Challenge!” the squad said in unison.

ZOW! ZAM! ZOOM! The Excalibur dropped out of the Aether Zone in a dazzling burst of lightning. Like a silent iceberg of iron, it drifted through the cold emptiness of uncharted space. The silence was once again shattered by another sound. The engine of a smaller spacecraft purred as it left the launch bay of the Excalibur.

The sleek and silver frame of the SCV-17 Argent Arrow pierced the blackness, streaking towards its target as if released by an archer’s bow. No one aboard the vessel knew what awaited them there. They all held their breath in anticipation of what was to come. Captain Hawkins, primed and ready for action, peered out from the cockpit with steely eyes. The darkness stared back at him. He knew something was hiding out there. He could feel it.

Zora quietly approached the window and placed her fingertips upon the cold glass. Her face was reflected in the darkened window, partially illuminated by distant starlight. Hank’s vigil was broken by her elegance and otherworldly beauty. Her eyes were like shimmering pools, deep in contemplation. Grey Wing recognized this look. Zora’s elven telepathy was at work.

“You sense something too, don’t you?” said Hank.

“I do indeed sense something,” she said, “Yet it is both strange and familiar. I know not how to explain it.”

“Perhaps I can enlighten you,” said Dr. Moon with a tablet in hand.

“By all means, doctor,” said Hank.

“We have entered the gravitational sphere of a large celestial object,” he said, tapping away at his tablet, “It is approximately 0.23 astronomical units away and roughly 6,500 kilometers in diameter.”

“Is it a rogue planet?” asked Hawkins. Dr. Moon returned to his station, twisting dials and knobs. He studied the flickering waves dancing up and down on his computer monitor.

“Based on my spectrometer scans of the object, it does not appear to be a rogue planet. Its composition is mostly scandium, silicon, and metallic alloys.”

“I’m made of those things, and even I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” said A-Jax. Dr. Moon scowled.

“These elements are not commonly found on planet surfaces naturally,” said Moon, “Whatever this object is, it was built.” Hawkins’ brow furrowed.

“An artificial planet,” he said under his breath, “That means whoever we’re dealing with has a lot of resources.”

“And manpower,” said A-Jax.

“This mission may be more difficult than we originally thought,” said Hank.

“Good!” said A-Jax, cracking his titanium knuckles.

“I will pray to Aeon for courage and protection,” whispered Zora as she bowed her head. Dr. Moon rolled his eyes.

“May I suggest a more practical and factual solution?” he said.

“Go on,” said Hank.

“It would be unwise to burst onto the scene guns blazing,” he said, shooting a disapproving look at A-Jax, “We must approach this with caution.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Hawkins. Moon sauntered over to the holographic projector. A room-sized image of the artificial planet materialized before their eyes.

“If we could blend into the orbiting debris, that should allow us to approach this object undetected,” began Moon. He was immediately interrupted by a disheveled head of wild blonde hair appearing from around the corner. It was Lucy Jetz.

“I can do that!” she said, emerging from the engineering room with a beaming white smile and a squeaky voice, “That’s easy! I can use the Resonant Electromagnetic Field Generator to simulate debris drift.” She wiped soot and grime from her brow and stood proudly.

“Splendid,” said Moon cooly, “That should give us the cover we need to approach the planet. Captain Hawkins, you, Zora, and A-Jax can enter this abandoned maintenance port and infiltrate the interior. I will create a data tether between the Argent Arrow’s computer and your spacesuits. Based on new environmental data I can update our plan in real time.”

“Stellar!” said Grey Wing, “Once we’ve located the captives, we can rendezvous with the Arrow.” He turned to A-Jax. “That means you’ll have to control yourself. Do NOT engage the enemy until I give you the command.” A-Jax sighed.

“You’re the boss,” he said solemnly. All the while, Zora stared at the hologram of the artificial planet, spellbound by its grandeur.

“What is it, Zora?” said Hank.

“There is more than wealth here,” she said, “This kind of scale. We are beholding something ancient…obsessive, even. I fear we may encounter a power that has forgotten the virtue of mercy.” She turned toward Dr. Moon. “And with all due respect, you are wrong, doctor. It is not the force of gravity that I am sensing. There is something else at play here…something despondent.”

“No need to feel down, Lieutenant. We will prepare for anything,” said Hawkins, placing his hand on Zora’s shoulder, “And a few prayers to Aeon probably wouldn’t hurt either.”

With slight adjustments by Ms. Jetz, the Argent Arrow’s engines quieted and cooled. It slipped through the ring of orbiting debris and drew closer to the planet’s exterior. It was a spectacular sight: a glistening golden surface adorned with towers, domes, and solar panels. Donned in their spacesuits, Captain Hawkins, A-Jax, and Zora exited the ship and drifted over to the maintenance port. Drawn in by gravity, they alighted on the surface and crept through the gilded hatch. What awaited them inside the mysterious sphere was anyone’s guess.

A great corridor as tall as a cathedral and as ornate as a palace welcomed them. The sweeping lines of its architecture beckoned the team to come further. Hank and Zora were in awe. If this was merely a passageway to a maintenance port, what did the rest of the station look like?

“By Aeon’s grace!” said Zora, her eyes sparkling with wonderment.

“Any readings yet, Doctor?” said Hank into his communicator.

“Indeed,” came the scratchy voice of Moon in Hank’s ear, “There is an artificial atmosphere: seventy-eight percent nitrogen and twenty-one percent oxygen.” Upon hearing that, Hank and Zora removed their helmets. “I’m also detecting the flow of electricity. Energy conduits are running through the ceiling. They appear to be heading toward a central power station.”

“That’s where we’ll check out first,” said Hank, “Let’s move.”

The great corridor seemed to sing from the sound of the team’s echoing footsteps. Whoever designed this place had beauty and elegance at the forefront of his mind, even down to the smallest detail. There was not a speck of dirt to be seen. Even the air carried a sweet fragrance. Yet, this beauty felt hollow. Soulless.

Suddenly, the echoes grew louder. More footsteps were heard, and they were approaching fast. Hank grabbed Zora and pulled her behind a nearby pillar. A-Jax followed suit. Rounding the corner was a battalion of gilded robots. They marched onward in lockstep formation, their featureless faces directed to the front at all times. Two broke from the ranks and approached the nearest columns, spritzing them with a cleaning solution and polishing the gold surface before moving on to the next.

“Should I introduce myself?” whispered A-Jax, raising his arm cannon.

“Negative,” said Hank, “We still don’t know what we’re up against yet. It’s best to avoid detection.”

“And, what if we are detected?” said Zora. Hank pondered this for a bit.

“Just follow my lead,” he said. Once the robots had vacated the corridor, Hank motioned for them to advance. They darted across the hall, following the energy signature deeper into the planet’s core.

“The energy readings are intensifying,” said Moon, “The source must be something of immense power.”

“Any life signs?” asked Hank.

“No human signatures yet. It’s possible the colonists are not here.”

“Surely something is alive here. What else would be the point of all of this?”

“There is life,” said Zora, her mind in a daze, “I can sense it. It is close now.” She waltzed over to an adjacent corridor as if in a trance. “So familiar,” she said to herself, “...so familiar”.

“Lieutenant,” said Hank, “Stay on objective. Don’t wander-”

“INTRUDER! INTRUDER!” Two gold robots ambushed Zora, binding her wrists with metallic claws. A dozen more appeared from all directions, surrounding Hank and A-Jax. They carried no weapons, but their iron limbs would more than suffice in a scrap. Hank nearly drew his laser pistol from his hip out of impulse, but stopped himself. He turned to Jax, who was eager to open fire.

“Stand down, Jax,” he said. Hawkins shook off his initial shock and smiled at his captors. “Oh, thank heaven!” he said, feigning relief, “We were beginning to think no one was here to help us!” The robots became like statues, processing what Hawkins had said. Hank waited for a reply. They gave none. So, he spoke again.

“Can you take us to your leader…please?”

“Leader?” said one of the robots. Then, the others began to chant in unison.

“Ouroboros! Ouroboros! Ouroboros!” Their synthetic voices resonated through the endless halls and vaulted ceilings of the palace. Hank and A-Jax were bound and led away with Zora.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” said Dr. Moon, “The Argent Arrow will be in position for when you escape.”

“I appreciate your confidence in us,” said Hank under his breath, fidgeting with his constraints.

“Captain,” whispered Zora, “Please forgive me. I know not what came over me.”

“Don’t sweat it, Zora,” said Grey Wing, “This may work to our advantage. We can finally find out who’s behind all of this.”

--------------------

The march through the halls of the mysterious planet seemed to go on forever. They passed by an endless display of luxury: gardens teeming with exotic vegetation, fountains of molten silver, menageries of alien beasts, amusement parks brimming with extravagant rides but no one to enjoy them, and sprawling banquet halls overflowing with fruit and wine. It all sat silently…waiting.

The architecture around Hawkins and his team became more and more elaborate as they neared this mysterious Ouroboros. Massive golden doors yawned before them, revealing a throne room far grander than anything they had seen thus far. A trumpeting fanfare washed over them as they crossed the threshold into the royal chamber of Ouroboros.

Near the vaulted ceiling was a virtual starscape of dazzling nebulae, globular clusters, and blazing comets. The soaring columns to either side sparkled with gemstones like twinkling stars. Luscious purple drapes hung all around. Even the floor beneath their feet was formed from crystal. Lining the walls of pressed pearls were battalions of robots. The one they were guarding was seated on a hovering throne at the far end of the hall.

Before the throne was a troupe of mechanical dancers; leaping, diving, and twirling through the air. As Grey Wing and his companions were led closer to the throne, the robots ceased their performance and parted for them to pass. The hovering throne slowly lowered, giving its occupier a better view of his prisoners and the prisoners a better view of their captor.

This Ouroboros was not a man, nor was he a machine. He was more a piece of chiseled granite with eyes glinting like dying suns. Yet, his features were surprisingly youthful, almost infantile. Draped in golden silks, he sat emotionless, unfazed by all of the stimulus around him.

“All hail his eternal eminence – Ouroboros!” said the automaton at the foot of the throne. The chamber was flooded by synthetic cheers as the robots prodded the Space Force agents to bow. “You may now address his excellency.” said the robot herald, “But make it quick. His majesty has important matters to attend to.” The bonds around Hank, Zora, and A-Jax’s wrists were released.

“Greetings,” began Hank, “I am Captain Hawkins of the Sovereign Space Force. It’s an honor to finally make your acquaintance.” Ouroboros said nothing. “We apologize for barging in the way we did, but my team and I had to jettison from our ship and our escape pod was drawn in by your planet’s gravity.” Ouroboros turned his head slightly to his herald.

“His eminence wishes to know why you were trespassing in his domain,” said the herald.

“We were on a rescue mission,” said Hank, “Many of my people have gone missing. Would his eminence know anything about that?” he said, addressing the herald. The eyes of Ouroboros seemed to smolder. The lights of the herald flickered for a bit before it responded.

“His excellency knows nothing of that. It is best for you to leave his presence now. A transport will be provided for you to the nearest asteroid.” With that, the guards motioned for Hank and company to exit. As they turned, Zora’s elven figure was revealed, causing Ouroboros to sit up abruptly from his throne. The herald signaled for the guards to halt. Zora was brought forward to the foot of the throne. Hank tried to break free from the robots’ grip, but could not. At last, Ouroboros spoke.

“An Arvelian,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Affirmative,” said Zora, her lips trembling, “I am Lieutenant Zora Zeldarion, daughter of Zola Zeldarion. My vocation is in xenolinguistics and–”

“You speak the Tongue of the Morning Stars?” said Ouroboros. Zora blinked.

“I do,” she said, “I am well-versed in my people’s language.” Ouroboros smiled.

“How perfect! I have waited millennia to finally meet a she-elf of Arvel. It pleases me to see that you are still alive. I was afraid that all of your kind had gone extinct.” Zora’s brow furrowed.

“Th-thank you, your excellency,” she said awkwardly.

“You will come with me,” said Ouroboros, “I have great need of you…and your voice.” Robots stepped forward, arms extended, polite — almost reverent — as they moved to take Zora by the wrists. Hank pushed himself past the guards.

“I’m afraid she’s needed elsewhere, your highness,” said Hank, drawing his laser pistol and aiming it at the head of Ouroboros.

“It's about time!” said A-Jax, raising his arm cannon. Ouroboros was anything but intimidated by Grey Wing and A-Jax’s heroics.

“Prepare the she-elf for the performance,” he said, waving his tiny hand, “And set the stage immediately. I am tired of waiting any longer.” The guards began to cart Zora away.

“Perhaps his excellency doesn’t hear very well!” said Hank, firing his pistol, “She’s coming with us!” PZZZ-ZOW! Delighted, A-Jax fired his cannon in response. KA-CHOOM! Much to their surprise, the blasts had no effect on the pompous lord. They dissipated as soon as they made contact with his stoney skin. Not even his robes were singed. Ouroboros sighed.

“Mortals,” he said in a tired voice, “Always trying to spoil my fun.” He snapped his fingers, causing the robot battalions to come alive and stalk inwards at A-Jax and Hank.

“Doctor,” said Hank into his communicator, “You can bring the ship around now!”

“Roger,” said Moon, “ETA five minutes.”

“You may want to quicken the pace,” said Hank, firing his pistol at an approaching android. Its gold plating turned to molten sludge. Before Hawkins could celebrate, three more automatons quickly took its place.

“No rush,” said A-Jax, tearing through two enemies, cracking their alloy skulls in his fists, “Things have finally gotten interesting!”

ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! The mechanical legionnaires kept coming. No matter how many Grey Wing and Jax destroyed, the onslaught continued. Hundreds of iron claws closed in for the kill. Hank could faintly see Zora being taken away through the storm of laser blasts, sparks, and flying debris. She cried out to him from afar.

“Hank! You must go! Retreat!”

“No! We’re not leaving you!”

“Your mission is to rescue the colonists, not me!” said Zora, “Go!” With that, Zora was pulled through a doorway and out of sight.

Hank growled. She was right. He must return to the Argent Arrow at once. But how? He and A-Jax were in the center of a billowing sea of robots.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here in one piece, old sport,” said Hank to A-Jax, zapping another automaton. Jax tilted his head, processing an idea.

“You’re right,” he said, pausing to throw an enemy bot into the ever-growing crowd. He waded through piles of busted metal to Grey Wing and grabbed him by his collar. He extended his hand to Hank. Resting in his palm was a small microchip. “Take my Neurocore Matrix and get out of here!”

“Why? What are you –”

“I’m going to self-destruct,” said Jax, “It’s the only way for you to escape.”

“No, not again,” said Hank, “We can think of something else.” Jax gave him a pat on his cheek.

“Oh, man up, boss,” he said, “You’ll see me again…well, a future version of me. Don’t forget to tell the new A-Jax how heroic I was!” Hawkins was heartbroken, but he couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was immediately interrupted. “NOW, CLEAR THE DECK!” said Jax, hoisting Hank off his feet and tossing him through the air. He soared over hundreds of robotic heads and landed beyond them near the grand chamber doors. It was a less-than elegant descent.

Captain Hawkins groaned as he picked himself up and hobbled out the door, giving one last glance at his chrome-plated friend. A-Jax was swarmed by countless enemies, holding onto his swinging arms and diving on top of him from all directions. Hank smiled once more. Going out in a blaze of glory was how Jax always preferred it. He dashed out of sight, the internal reactor of A-Jax ticking closer to detonation.

“C’mon, you walking scrap heaps!” roared the fearless android, “I want to remember this day! Gather around for a group photo!” The synthetic sentries continued to pour in from opened hatches in the walls, clambering towards the center of the room. “Yes, yes! That’s it. Come closer! Make enough room for everyone. Okay! Three…two…one…say BOOM!”

KAH-BOOM! A burning ball of plasma burst in the chamber, incinerating everything within a fifty yard radius. The fire blasted charred bits of automatons out the door. Hank could hear the explosion echoing down the endless corridors behind him, yet he refused to flinch. As long as he carried A-Jax’s Neurocore Matrix, he could upload his virtual consciousness into a new robotic form. Of course, that would depend on whether or not Grey Wing could escape the gilded prison of Ouroboros.

Despite her protests and resistance, Zora was brought deep into the bowels of the artificial planet. Here, the grandeur and opulence were replaced by dismal lighting and narrow passageways. She was tossed into a room as black as space itself. Much to her surprise, she did not land upon a solid floor. In fact, she did not land at all. She was suspended in midair, paralyzed by an unseen force.

Then, the merciless face of Ouroboros materialized before her, looming large like a moon.

“Comfortable?” he said in a booming voice.

“Comfortable?” said Zora, “How benevolent of you to inquire! Is this how you treat all of your prisoners?”

“You are not my prisoner,” said Ouroboros, “You’re my guest – an honored guest.”

“You have no right to detain me here,” said Zora, “I am a member of the Sovereign Space Force. By holding me hostage, you are committing an act of war against the Human race.”

“Oh, but you’re not a human,” said Ouroboros, his sneering smile filling the sky, “You are an Arvelian…a she-elf…and a beautiful one at that.” Zora shivered in disgust.

“What do you want of me?” Suddenly, the space around Zora was filled with stars and swirling galaxies. Eons were passing in the blink of an eye.

“I have lived long enough to see the birth and death of countless suns,” began Ouroboros, “Surely, I will live to see the last lights of the universe go out forever. Death, decay, pain: none of these frighten me. There is only one thing that does.”

“And what is that?”

“Boredom,” said Ouroboros, “You have seen my palace. Over the millennia, I have collected all the pleasures of the universe. However, it has all amounted to nothing. Wine has no flavor for me anymore. Food has no taste. Companionship brings no warmth. Eternal life may seem like a blessing to mortals, but in truth it is a curse.” The face of Ouroboros increased in size, until only his eye appeared before Zora, manic and blazing. She recoiled in fright. “I need…more. I need to feel – something, even if it’s just a fleeting flicker of stimulation. That is why you are here. Yes…you will help me with this.”

“You said you have need of my voice,” said Zora, “What is your meaning?”

“I have witnessed the lifespan of stars but I have not seen everything,” said Ouroboros, “There are events that I wish I could have seen with my own eyes, especially the history of the Arevelian Star Dominion.” Zora held her breath. “Are you familiar with the Starfall Sacrifice?” She nodded.

“I am. I was taught the ancient poem of this battle by my father. It was a glorious moment in my people’s history. Yet, it was also a great tragedy.”

“Indeed,” said Ouroboros, “But, what a spectacle it must’ve been. Thousands of ships, locked in combat, trapped within the gravitational pull of a neutron star until every last one of them was swallowed in blazing white fire!” The young lieutenant feared what her captor was going to say next. “I will recreate this battle for my entertainment.”

“Using your machines, no doubt,” said Zora.

“Machines cannot bleed,” said Ouroboros, almost licking his lips at the thought, “Machines cannot sweat. They cannot fight tooth and nail, clinging onto life till the bitter end! No, my dear. I will use live performers for this grand event. It will be most dramatic!”

“So, it is true!” gasped Zora, “You are the one who has been kidnapping human colonists!” Ouroboros smiled. Suddenly, the darkened void around Zora was illuminated, revealing things unseen to her eyes. Suspended in the air in all directions were countless prisoners. Their voices became audible. They were weeping. Tears poured down Zora’s face at the sight of innocent children held in bondage, crying out for their parents to rescue them.

“Curses be upon you, you soulless crag!” screamed Zora, “Aeon will judge you for what you have done!”

“I highly doubt that,” said Ouroboros, dimming the chamber back to its void-like state, “When all lives have been extinguished, I will remain. These mortals, these…things, serve only one function; to bring me pleasure. When they have fulfilled that purpose, they will be discarded. But you will serve a special purpose – to narrate my play. You will recite the ancient poem of your people in the Tongue of the Morning Stars as the great battle unfolds!”

“And what then?!” roared Zora, “What will you do after your great performance is finished? Will your eternal appetite ever be sated?”

“I will simply find something else to pass the time,” said the immortal lord, “Perhaps another battle? In that case, I will need more mortal performers. Who knows? I have all the time in the universe to think about it.” His projection began to shrink and fade away into blackness, “Farewell for now, she-elf. I look forward to your recitation.” Zora cried out into the darkness as the visage disappeared. Yet, the horrible cackle of Ouroboros echoed on in the vast emptiness.

She hung her head in sorrow, frozen in the void. The voices of the other captives were silenced. Yet, she felt something tingling in her soul. She was overwhelmed by that odd sensation once more: both strange and familiar. Then, she heard words speaking to her in the back of her mind.

“Zora,” it said faintly, “Zora. Harken to me, Zora.” The voice was deep; father-like.

“Who are you?” thought Zora.

“I am like you,” the voice said, “I am one of your kind. I am a child of Arvel.” Zora’s heart fluttered with excitement. Never had she encountered another elf in her journeys across the stars.

“By Aeon’s grace!” she said telepathically to the stranger, “I knew my feelings were true. It was you I was sensing across the gulf of space!”

“I am Eagle-Star” said the voice, “After all this time, it pleases me to once again commune with another of my kin.”

“Yes,” said Zora, almost weeping with joy, “It is a most fortunate event!” She could peer into his mind. Flashes of images told his story: of how he was a valiant knight of the Arvelian Star Dominion, how he was wounded in battle and was sent into a restorative slumber only to awake thousands of years later and find his once glorious empire in ruins and his people destroyed, and how his ship happened upon the palace-planet of Ouroboros.”

“So much sorrow,” whispered Zora, “And so much rage.”

“You have been cast as the narrator of the Starfall Sacrifice, correct?” said Eagle-Star.

“Affirmative,” said Zora.

“I have been cast as well,” began Eagle-Star, “As Prince Xaleos Starborne, the leader of the Arvelian fleet.” Zora gasped.

“Then, you are doomed to die?” she said. Eagle-Star gave no reply. “And, you are not troubled by this?” Eagle-Star’s mind fell silent. This cold absence of thought froze Zora to her core. “You have abandoned all hope.”

“Perhaps it is better this way,” said Eagle-Star, his voice distant and faint, “Our people are gone. Our Dominion is gone. If there is nothing left for me, then I wish to perish, honoring the memory of my forebears, rather than to fade away.”

“No!” said Zora, “You are wrong! This cannot be our end! I won’t allow it!” Despite her strong words, Eagle-Star’s thoughts were her thoughts; his emotions her emotions. The same bitter dagger of despair that pierced his heart also pierced hers.

“Thank you for communing with me, Zora,” said Eagle-Star, his telepathic voice fading into nothingness, “It has been so long…so long…so long.” Zora began to cry as the presence of Eagle-Star slipped away into darkness.

Hawkins, sweating and fuming, crashed through the bay doors of the Argent Arrow. He had just managed to escape the clutches of a few dozen automatons pursuing him down the endless corridors. The ship immediately tore away from the surface of Ouroboros’ planet and returned to the orbiting debris field.

“He has her!” said Hank, storming to the cockpit, “Ouroboros has Zora! Send a message to the Excalibur. We need reinforcements, NOW!”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” said Moon, “There is magnetospheric turbulence interfering with our communications. No long-range messages can be sent at this time.” Incensed, Hank punched a metal panel as he slumped in his chair. Lucy stood in the doorway, fidgeting about awkwardly.

“Why did they take Zora?” she said softly.

“Something about a ‘performance’,” said Hank, “That brute thinks he’s a god who can puppet people around like playthings!” Hank’s rage could be felt all the way across the ship. However, Dr. Moon was unaffected by this.

“Captain, may I inform you of my findings from the data tether?”

“Fine,” said Hank, eyes closed and breathing steadily. Without Zora, it was difficult for him to calm down.

“The energy conduits of the artificial planet derive from a central power source. According to my calculations, it would appear to be a neutron star.” Hank opened his eyes.

“A neutron star? Inside that planet?”

“Indeed,” said Moon, “A star with a diameter of twenty kilometers, if I’m not mistaken.”

“So, the palace is actually a Dyson Sphere,” said Hank, rising from his chair and approaching the control modules, “A factory of endless machines powered by an internal sun.”

“A sun that, under the right conditions, can become quite volatile,” said Moon, “Especially to machinery.” Hawkins felt a jolt pass through his mind.

“Dr. Moon,” began Hank with a smirk across his lips, “I think I finally understand what you’re saying. It’s time to close the curtain on Ouroboros’ scheme!”

--------------------

The stage was set. Deep within the gilded layers of the artificial planet, Ouroboros assembled his reluctant performers. Mechanical sentinels adorned the prisoners in suits of elven armor, their humanity cloaked from one another. Even children were forced onto the decks of Arvelian triremes. Little did they know that they were walking to their demise.

Then emerged the proud form of Eagle-Star. He stood tall, wearing a pristine suit of synthetic alloys. A crest of wings were upon his chest. A helmet covered his face. A cape of woven metallic threads billowed behind him as he marched across the deck of his vessel. He did not break his stride, for he was guided by a noble fire.

An armada of slender elven ships were lifted into the air. They were directed towards the slowly parting jaws of hangar doors. A blazing light drenched the ships in a blinding aura. Many shielded their eyes, except for Eagle-Star, who stared ahead, unbothered by the overwhelming glow. A polarizing film was generated, dimming the sphere’s light and revealing its true form. It was the neutron star. It rested at the heart of Ouroboros’ Dyson Sphere, spinning at tremendous speeds and swirling a mist of radioactive particles.

On the opposite side of the shell’s concave interior sat Ouroboros. Seated high upon a monolithic throne of obsidian and dressed in luscious robes, he waited impatiently for his performance to begin. A legion of robots attended to his every need, bearing large trays of grapes, wines, desserts, and exotic treats – some still alive and squirming. The stocky immortal would sample a nibble of each before spitting it out and waving his hand for the next servant to come hither.

Countless ships appeared from all directions. On one side of the star were the white ships of the Arvelian Star Dominion and on the other were the black ships of the Voidborn – the villains of this story. Neither side fully understood what was about to happen, nor the context of the impending battle or their assigned roles, only that they would have to fight if they wished to escape.

Then, she appeared. Rising out of the floor before the obsidian throne, and welcomed by a bombastic orchestra, was the angelic form of Zora. She was dressed in a glimmering purple gown. A crown of twinkling stars was upon her head. She lifted her lavender eyes. Despite the deep sorrow within them, their beauty caused the stoney heart of Ouroboros to quicken for a fleeting moment. He raised his hand. The trumpets sounded. The play had begun.

“In a shadowed age when starlight wept, And crystal spires in silence slept,” began Zora, speaking the tongue of her people, her gentle voice amplified for all to hear, “The kin of flame and crown betrayed—Their hearts to endless night, they swayed.” The signal was given. The triremes moved into position, adjusting their holographic sails to catch the solar winds. Their artificial gravity and atmospheres would allow the prisoners to leap, slash, and hack at their opponents.

“The Voidborn Brotherhood, in wrath arose, With banners black and oath foreclosed, They swore the sun-kin’s throne to rend, And bring the Starborne Line to end,” A great cry arose from the black ships. The slaves aboard were preparing themselves. They would soon have to fight if they wished to see home again.

“From broken moons to nebulae, The war-song soared, a bitter cry. Till En-Saelis, old and dire, Drew all within its roaring fire.” The triremes drifted closer and closer to one another, creeping towards the swirling gravity well of the star. Very soon they would be forever trapped within the star’s wake, and the battle would commence. Standing upon the bow of his ship, leading the charge, was Eagle-Star. He held a silver glaive, the ancestral weapon of the elves. Its circular form could be seen across the battlezone. After so many centuries, it would taste blood once again.

“There met the ships of dusk and dawn, Their hearts ablaze, their glaives drawn. No turning back, no victor sure—Only sacrifice, and burning rancor.” The white-clad warriors of Eagle-Star unsheathed their weapons. The elven warrior raised his glaive. The light of the neutron star was reflected in it, shining like a beacon. Their battlecries shook the Dyson Sphere. Ouroboros was elated. A small shiver of anticipation crept down his spine. At last. He was beginning to feel something.

Then, Zora paused. She knew the final stanzas with perfect clarity, yet she could not bear to recite them. If she did, it would be the death knell of the human colonists and her elven brother. Instead, she reached out to Eagle-Star with her mind. His thoughts were barricaded by torrents of emotions: sadness, fear, and pride. Still, she penetrated these defenses.

“You do not have to do this,” she said. Eagle-Star flinched. “It does not have to end here. The legacy of our people will endure.”

“Please,” said Eagle-Star, “Leave me be, Zora. I want this.” With that, he shut the young she-elf out of his mind. Her connection lost, and only moments to spare, Zora would have to think of another way of reaching her friend. But how? Ouroboros squinted. Why was Zora taking so long to proceed? Two automatons began to approach Zora. If she would not finish the narration, she would be forced to.

“The thrones are dust, the banners torn, The proud halls of Arvel — worn. Yet glory sleeps not in the stone—It lives where noble hearts are known.” Zora did not recite these words from her memory, but from her soul. Eagle-Star, recognizing this change, turned his head in curiosity. “Not thrones, but truth shall light our name—Not war, but mercy earns us fame. So rise, Starborn! Let none forget—Our virtue lives when suns have set.” Eagle-Star’s ship slowed and stopped. It hovered in mid-air as the ancient warrior pondered on these words. The rest of his armada paused as well. The black ships across from them, confused by this maneuver, also stopped.

“What is this?” roared Ouroboros, “That is not the ancient poem!” The guards marched forward to seize Zora, yet the young elf stood firm, her voice thundering throughout the sphere.

“Ouroboros!” she said with a clear and confident voice, “You will not endure. You will be cast down and forgotten! But, we will endure. Our courage and selflessness will be remembered for all time!” The head of every prisoner was facing Zora, and the tight grip of despair was beginning to loosen around Eagle-Star’s heart.

“You dare speak to me like that?!” said Ouroboros, “I am eternal! Now, finish the play! I demand it!”

“No,” said Zora, “You are alone.”

ZOOOOM! Eagle-Star’s trireme banked sharply and soared directly toward the obsidian throne, followed by hundreds of other ships. An uprising had begun. SHHHHIIIINNNG! The elven glaive glided through the air, weaving left and right, slicing through the golden legion surrounding Ouroboros. As it flew, it sang with a crystal cadence.

“Fools!” screamed Ouroboros, his voice cracking from fear and anger. He then motioned to his mechanical guards. “Destroy them!” At once, the endless battalions moved forward before rising into the air, caught up in the gravity well of the neutron star.

A thousand duels were waged in zero-G as robots descended upon the triremes. The captives fought back valiantly, destroying several enemies with their crude weapons. Many fell under the cruel iron claws of the machines. Zora beheld warriors and robots entangled in the sky above her head. Then, her attention was returned to Ouroboros.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” said Ouroboros from atop his throne, “But you have only delayed the inevitable, and it will bring me great satisfaction to watch your precious mortals die! I may enjoy this even more, thanks to you!”

Zora’s moment of righteous relief was drowned by despair. He was right. There were too many robotic legionnaires. It was hopeless. But then, she felt a familiar presence in her heart. It was racing towards her at the speed of sound. Grey Wing!

KA-BLAM! Laser blasts penetrated the iron hangar doors of the Dyson Sphere’s interior. A silver blur zoomed past, toppling Ouroboros from his throne and overturning his trays. The Argent Arrow, piloted by Captain Hawkins, had arrived.

“Show’s over, pal!” said Hank, speaking through his ship’s projector, “By order of the Space Force!” Crumpled on the floor, Ouroboros growled like an angry kitten. Zora stood over her captor, but the wretch was too weak to put up any resistance. All he could do was watch as the Arrow blasted off, careening towards the blazing star at the center of the planet. Hawkins’ navigated the ship through a three-dimensional maze of warships and robots. It would take a miracle for the Arrow to make it out in one piece. Fortunately, it was driven by the best pilot in the universe.

“Tell me when we’re in range of the star,” yelled Hank from the cockpit, white knuckling the control column.

“Aye aye, Skipper!” said Lucy from the engineering room. She was standing by the Resonant Electromagnetic Field Generator, a device normally used to analyze frequencies of stars and planets. However, it could also transmit frequencies in return. The plan was simple: use the generator to inject waves into the neutron star to amplify its internal oscillations. This would cause a localized flare, frying all electronics within a certain radius but leaving organic matter intact.

Unfortunately, this plan was fraught with risks. The Argent Arrow would have to dance dangerously close to the inescapable maw of the star’s gravity and hover in place to transmit the waves. There were also the enemy robots to contend with. Lastly, they would have to quickly escape the sudden flare. It was a long shot, but it would be just the thing they need to take out the endless machines of Ouroboros in one fell swoop.

“We’re in range, Captain,” said Lucy as Hank breached the orb of battle. The ship was parked just within the eternal grasp of gravity.

“Fire the generator!” ordered Hank. Lucy pulled a heavy lever, activating the REFG. High frequency waves pulsed from the ship’s radar dish, penetrating the blinding crust of the star. VOOM VOOM VOOM VOOM! The energy caused the internal lights of the ship to dim and sparks to sputter from electrical conduits. The hull quivered. There wasn’t much time left.

“Hold it together, sweetheart,” said Hank to his ship, “Just a few more minutes.”

KA-CLUNG! An automaton landed on the Arrow’s exterior. KA-CLUNG! Another one. KA-CLUNG! A third one. Machines were swarming the Space Force vessel, piercing its silver plating with iron claws.

“Captain! There is a hull breach!” said Dr. Moon, “Oxygen levels are depleting – fast!” Beads of sweating were forming on Grey Wing’s brow. Perhaps, they wouldn’t make it out of this one.

Down below, Zora sensed the fear and anxiety of Captain Hawkins. There wasn’t a moment to lose. She closed her eyes and focused all of her thoughts on locating Eagle-Star within the broiling battle above.

“Eagle-Star!” Her voice echoed faintly in the elven warrior’s mind. He ceased his melee and listened. “That spacecraft above you. Those are my allies. They are good people. They are trying to save us. Please, help them!” At once, Eagle-Star launched himself from the deck of his trireme, escaping its artificial gravity and gliding through the air towards the Argent Arrow.

The Arvelian knight retracted his arm and then flung it forward, releasing his glaive. It sliced the ionized atmosphere with grace, removing the heads of the attacking robots. The Arrow, and its crew, were saved.

“How much longer?” said Hank through gritted teeth, his control column vibrating uncontrollably in his grip.

“The flare will be triggered in five…four…three…two…one. NOW!” Hank stomped on the accelerator, bringing the ship around just as the star’s surface flashed. VVRROOOWWWW! A wisp of white-hot fire erupted from the surface, nearly swiping the puny ship from the sky. The flare billowed out, dissipating as it rippled across the hollow interior of the planet. Its energy passed through the battling machines, freezing them in place. The elven triremes were also disabled, but its occupants were alive and well, unfazed by the stellar event.

Ouroboros beheld his unstoppable army defeated in a single move. The wave of solar energy blew past him and Zora, deactivating his control modules and most of his artificial world. The once vibrant palace was now cold and still. It was over.

Having escaped the flare’s blast, the Argent Arrow alighted on the platform before the obsidian throne. Zora rushed to the entrance gangway just as Hank was stepping off. He barely had time to react as Zora threw herself into his arms, overcome with relief.

“Aeon be praised!” she said, her voice muffled in Hank’s shoulder, “You saved us, Captain!” Hank grinned.

“It was nothing,” he said, “Besides, we have your friend to thank for that.” Indeed, Eagle-Star had demonstrated the vaunted heroism of the Arvelian Star Dominion, even after so many millennia. Speaking of which, where was Eagle-Star? Zora reached out to him once more. His presence appeared to her.

“Thank you, Zora,” he said, “Your words cut deeper than my sorrow. For you spoke true. The glory of our people will live on even when suns have set.” Zora smiled. “And, our Star Dominion shall rise again.” Her smile vanished. “I will see to it. The cosmos will soon remember the name of Arvel…they will remember to fear that name. Farewell, Zora. May Aeon bring our paths together again.” Zora released herself from Hank’s embrace and looked up at the heavens. The gleaming armor of Eagle-Star could faintly be seen disappearing through the darkened hangar doors. He was gone.

“What have I done?” thought Zora.

Her and Hank’s attention were brought back to Ouroboros. He was groaning and squirming on the ground, pulling himself through the overturned trays of food and wine gifted to him. Hank sauntered past and crouched in front of him.

“It appears his eternal eminence has many crimes to answer for,” said Hank, “That is, unless his majesty has more important matters to attend to.” Ouroboros’ eyes burned with a fiery rage. Zora stood over him as well. Rather than look upon him with wrath, she felt nothing but pity. He had been reduced to a hapless slug writhing on the floor, bathing in his own excesses.

“Captain,” came Dr. Moon’s voice through the communicator, “Long-range messages have been reenabled. The Excalibur will be arriving shortly.”

“Stellar! Maybe Commander Martel can figure out what to do with this one,” said Hank, motioning to Ouroboros with his pistol.

“Indeed,” said Zora, “What becomes of an immortal warlord?”

--------------------

The feeble frame of Ouroboros, bereft of his floating throne, shuffled across the desolate landscape of the asteroid. His sickly legs buckled under his own weight. It had been centuries since he last used them. His tiny paw-like hand reached out in vain at the fading engines of the SSC Excalibur as it departed. With nothing to carry his voice, Ouroboros wailed in silence.

“Don’t leave me here!” his muted lips said, “What am I supposed to do?! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” Like a dimming star, the Excalibur vanished, marooning the immortal lord to his new domain: a barren rock floating in space. No palace. No robots. No stimulation whatsoever. It would be his permanent home…forever…and ever…and ever…and ever.

“Are you sure the Supreme Council won’t be bothered by this, Commander?” said Grey Wing to Martel. The team had gathered at the observation deck of the Excalibur to watch the banishment of Ouroboros.

“Sovereign laws do not apply to this region of space,” said Martel, “Also, there are no statutes regarding punishments for indestructible and immortal beings. If anyone asks, we simply dropped him off at the nearest stop.”

“Serves him right!” came the synthesized voice of A-Jax from the computer terminal, “That’s what he gets! I can’t believe I had to blow myself up again and miss all the action!”

“Don’t worry, Jax!” said Ms. Jetz, “Your new body is almost complete.”

“Finally,” said A-Jax as Lucy removed his Neurocore Matrix from the terminal and left the room.

“You all performed well,” said Martel, “The rescued colonists have been relocated to safe zones. The children have been returned to their families. And, an unknown threat has been neutralized. The Sovereignty of Mankind is in your debt.”

“Thank you, Commander,” said Hawkins, saluting his superior as he exited the observation deck. Dr. Moon stood at the window, sulking.

“What’s the matter, Doctor?” said Grey Wing, “You seem sterner than usual.”

“Were we too cruel?” He said, “To maroon an immortal being to an eternal existence devoid of stimulation seems unethical and downright despicable.”

“On the contrary, Doctor,” said Zora, “We have given Ouroboros a chance at redemption. One day, he will stand before Aeon’s throne for judgment. It could be today. It could be tomorrow. It could be a thousand generations from now. Regardless, Ouroboros can spend his time in solitude contemplating his actions. As he himself said, he has all the time in the universe to think about it. Perhaps, he will remember the virtue of mercy and repent.”

“Not everyone shares your opinion on these matters, Lieutenant,” said Moon in a demeaning tone.

“Very well,” said Zora, “Not everyone is right.” She smiled softly at Moon, who crossed his arms behind his back, scowling. He exited the room shortly after. Zora and Hank remained on the observation deck, peering out across the stars.

“Can you still hear his thoughts,” asked Hank, “Your friend, I mean.”

“No,” said Zora, “His mind is beyond my reach. Still, I hear the echo of our last connection. I fear we may have rekindled a noble fire, one that will burn the cosmos to cinders.”

“Not if the Space Force has anything to say about it,” said Hank, proudly planting his fists on his hips. Zora smiled.

“Of course,” she said. She turned to look upon Hank. He was gazing across the vast stretches of space, lost in memory. She gently placed her hand upon Hank’s heart. The fearless starfighter blushed at her touch. “I pray, one day, you may extinguish the fire within you, Captain,” Grey Wing was confused. “The abducted children…the loss of innocence. I know why this mission ignited your indignation. What happened to her was not your fault. Please, do not torment yourself with needless guilt.” Hank’s lips quivered, his mind returning to years and years ago, but he quickly drove back the sadness with a quippy remark.

“So, you can read my thoughts too, is that it?” he said. Zora removed her hand from Hank’s chest.

“Forgive me, Captain,” she said, her pale blue skin turning pink from embarrassment, “I did not mean to pry.”

“No need to apologize, Lieutenant,” said Hank, smiling warmly. There was a long stretch of silence between the two of them as they stood in each other’s presence. “It’s strange,” said Hank, “But, maybe it’s good that one day we all have to die.” Zora tilted her head inquisitively. “To live forever, like Ouroboros, would be a very dull thing. To forget what it means to be alive, for all memories – bitter and sweet – to disappear into eternity, to be reduced to a starving brain, well, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy!” Zora lifted her chin in contemplation. “Perhaps, it’s good that things do eventually come to an end. It’s what gives them value.”

“Until one day when Aeon returns,” said Zora, “Then all good things will be perfected and preserved forever and ever.”

“Until that day,” said Hank, “...Until that day.”

THUS CONTINUE THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF

GREY WING