Unfounded Dominion, Chapter 1

"Welcome to the Universal Human Marine Corps. You have been selected to die with us."

Year 2612, Summer

Planet Earth: UHMC Ceremonial Garden, Stage

Even now as I stood upon the podium, preparing to deliver an ineffectual speech for my assumption of authority over the young men and women that would inevitably succumb to the most horrid of deaths before me, my mind couldn’t tear itself away from the haunting, rotten smell of sulphuric ammonia or the violent gashes of the open entropic wounds dealt her majestic exterior.

The sun was beating down hard on myself and every Marine in attendance today. My dress clothes were starting to dampen with sweat, both from the outdoor setting and from my own stress. I loosened the knot of my tie in an attempt to salvage additional oxygen from the great green trees that outlined us in the garden. White marble floors reflected the almighty presence of the sun back up to our sky, while catching and levitating its thermal energy along its surface. The whole display would be spectacular had I not known of her existence.

Even if I had been given permission to tell them everything, what would I say? How did one even begin to describe something so grand, so unexplainable that one must perceive it in the flesh to know of its true fullness?

“Welcome to the Universal Human Marine Corps.” I started by default, well rehearsed and said many a time. “My name is Commander Phillips, and I’m here to reveal to you all the driving forces behind what lies beyond and the tremendous weight we each now carry on behalf of all humanity.”

They were well disciplined, orderly, and military by nature through and through. Some looked bored, their eyelids drooping heavily. Some now watched me with confused and puzzled faces, never hearing a commander so unbureaucratic and sincere like this before. An Asian cadet, clean shaven and young, looking barely eighteen years of age, cast a quick side eye toward another Caucasian Marine in the row just ahead of him. He in turn gave the slightest shrug and a tilt of his head back to indicate to his friend to listen closely. Despite their youth, they both carried with them a sense of surety about themselves I now longed for.

These would be the ones to survive the longest, especially if my intentional vagueness had piqued their curiosity enough to place them on high alert and get them reading between the lines I was tasked to draw.

I couldn’t tell them everything, since much of it was still classified and the mission parameters harsh, but I needed to tell them as much as I could get away with to prepare them while still maintaining the integrity of the Chief’s directives.

I knew also that it was a necessary evil. Just as I knew that it was our first, and only, step forward. If not, nothing we chose to do mattered and everything we are or could be, would entirely fall upon the shoulders of that mystical steward. After our shared experience in the deep dark, there’s no way I would allow that, and the Commander in Chief was wholly aware of that fact. These troops had been selected to die for us… for me. To give us insight into our newly discovered threats and to show us exactly what we’d be up against if we were to engage in direct combat with them. We must know if our destiny, or eradication, as the human race could be controlled.

What I had been approved to disclose, though, was the mission that the UHMC had promoted me to commander for. Our team’s first contact with Estella, codenamed, “Mother Celestial”.

I never could have imagined myself as the one to make Humanity’s single most devastating and miraculous discovery in all history. After humanity had reached the outer limits of the solar system and that of our observable galaxy, with the help of quantum spatial megastructures built to take advantage of the naturally stabilized wormholes, it didn’t take long for us to hit the next barrier using faster than light travel (FTL).

We as a species have a particular knack for exploration and a ravenous desire for a greater understanding of damn near anything and everything. Lo and behold, the discovery of the silver veil by Intrepid VII revealed a translucent, flowy barrier at the border of our galaxy, which enclosed us in on ourselves. It was beautiful, shimmering against a backdrop of total blackness. It shone bright like that of the aurora borealis that I’d read about and seen pictures of in my history textbooks.

Although, those lights had been cast as a result of earth’s magnetosphere. Intrepid VII, assigned the simple task of exploration, accomplished that exact mission they set out to do. It unfortunately was also the same moment her entire crew collided with the Silver Wall. They had discovered something that deeply unsettled most of the populace, from Earth Commoner to Admiral, all the way even to the Pirates. The fact that we as a species were encapsulated in a closed system. Lucky for us, we caught the distress signal emitted from the ship’s recovery broadcast. This allowed us to learn that the lighting of the ‘wall’ itself was actually a physical barrier rather than just some space weather phenomena.

The discovery of the silver veil sent our scientific and engineering communities into a chaotic mess. Physics textbooks were rewritten overnight and the entire discipline of space engineering we’d developed over millennia was rendered obsolete. Their research, calculations, theories, architecture; all would be for nothing but a commodity if we couldn’t know what lay beyond.

The religious populace called it Heaven. Earth based self-proclaimed prophets gave warnings and told stories of Icarus and his wax wings melting after he flew too close to the sun. They warned that to approach it would be our end. Different sects argued at length over the nature and purpose of the veil, but most of them at least agreed on one thing. Humanity shouldn’t act on its discovery. The religious minority, Satanists, Aghori, and such, professed it to be their last step toward Godhood. They believed it to be a realm of devils and demons to be overcome and triumphed over, launching the human race into enlightenment. I, as a spacefarer, happened to know it as it truly was. The end of Human dominion. Had I known as a Captain what I know now, I may have chosen the stockade over volunteer service in Intrepid VII’s reactive operation, sent aboard Punchline I.

It all started with that expeditionary penetration test.

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Year 2606, Fall

Universal Human Space Navy: Punchline I, Anchored on Stardocker

“Eagle Nest, this is Punchline Actual… All systems check, over”, Commander Jackson started our communications and capabilities check. He was steady, confident, and muscular. Everything about his composure retaliated against the passage of time and experience this man had seen. Dark hair, fringing with streaks of grey, sat slicked back atop his scalp. The sides of his head were clean shaven and the faintest musk of stubble plated his peach colored, angular face.

“Affirmed, Punchline Actual, this is Eagle Nest,” replied the flight control attendant on staff through our headsets, “Telemetry across displays green, reboot finalized, all systems go. How copy?”

Jackson replied, “Good copy, Echo November. Approach vector set to Sol. Break. Flexibility. Break. Silver Lining. Commencing preflight sequence protocol.”

Jackson looked over to me and nodded, “Go ahead, Captain”, giving me the signal to start us off.

I wasn’t the best pilot available in the UHMC, which in turn made me curious as to why he’d hand selected me for this mission. I flipped on all power systems, turned off interior lighting, and ignited the engines. Silence reigned supreme inside the vacuum of space and in our hangar bay, but inside the ship, the hull shook violently to life. No noise would have been heard outside, obviously, but from the mechanical thrum of auditory shockwaves rippling through and off the ship’s skeletal alloy, one could definitely still hear it rumble to life aboard any star vessel.

“All systems green, open for departure, awaiting clearance,” I spoke into the comms.

I set Punchline I’s thrusters slowly from one to five percent, feeling the tension build between our desire to leave the hangar and the armed magnetic lock that restricted us from doing so. Captain Anders would give me the launch signal once he’d received confirmation of our clearance status from Stardocker’s security personnel.

After all these years and with the advancements in technology we’ve made, building Stardocker as a dedicated deep space starship launching station and getting it to orbit Sol, Earth’s Sun, it still amazed me that nobody had come up with a better way to clear individuals or teams for space travel. Even for elite teams such as this, you’d think they’d end up creating some form of urgent priority.

In terms of traffic control, I suppose it made sense as to why everything was the way it was. With stakes for accidents so drastic and the consequences of a collision so catastrophic, I’m sure they all were much more preoccupied than worrying about the comfort and impatience of their military personnel.

A whole seven minutes passed strapped into our seats before we were granted clearance. As inefficient and wasteful as we’ve always been, burning fuel this entire time, power was finally shut off to the magnetic stabilizer and the mag-lock holding us in place released with an industrial crack.

We drifted forward out into the wide sea of space and into the blinding radiant light of the Sun, guided by our ship’s Artificial Transportation Assistance (A.T.A.), programming designed by the UHMC for flight control stabilization and general contingency advising. A thin film of golden solar sheets automatically activates upon immediate contact with the radiation, dimming the cabin in the process and protecting us from the Sun’s solar winds.

At one hundred percent thruster power, I’d calculated that we’d reach Sol focus in forty four minutes. With the assistance of Sol’s orbit, our time to and through Gateway ‘Flexibility’ would be cut nearly in half at around an additional four and a half hours, give or take. We’d then begin our wormhole activation processes and prepare for the FTL organic drag effects. A.T.A. had given a prediction of forty two minutes and fifty four seconds to Sol focus. Her precision always brought with her an overwhelming amount of confidence for whichever crew she served with.

Everything was going according to all the planning we’d done. After having perfectly rounded Sol and escaping the celestial body far enough to engage our warp drive, a few hours later it was time to begin preparing for our entry through Flexibility.

I’ve come to hate FTL travel. Nausea, Vertigo… the after effects enough to make one’s blood boil and the fibers under their skin turn to soup. Recovery times from FTL Sickness were normally within a twenty four hour period, dependent on the individual warrior’s physical fitness.

I suppose I should be grateful that it’s all that it took, considering the literal bending of time and space that was taking place. I’d gotten used to it the more I’d done it. It was a part of the job role too and additional justification for my hazard pay. For some reason beyond my understanding, to this day, though, I still admittedly get nervous doing it.

“Captain, your heart rate and dermal conductivity levels are out of specification. Please consider taking a stillshot.” A.T.A. said aloud to the entire cabin.

Captain Anders and I glanced between one another, he attempting to decipher A.T.A.’s remark and me attempting to mask my mounting anxiety. After neither of us made or gave ground on the matter, we both then turned to the Commander.

Jackson gave me a once over before, somehow knowingly, following up on A.T.A’s observation, “You ok, Phillips?”

“I’m good, Commander.” I lied, implementing breathing tactics to slow my heart rate and perspiration. ‘One, two, three, four…’ Not A.T.A’s fault, but she had a tendency of lacking any kind of subtlety protocols. ‘Eight, Nine, Ten.’

“Anders?” he asked, giving me the courtesy of covering my disdain.

“Solid, Commander.” Captain Anders replied, a deep gravelly voice rightfully earned by the long hours worked under strenuous conditions by our starship engineers.

We continued our pursuit toward and into the activation range of Flexibility.

“Ada, begin FTL Warp countdown, activate gateway pylons.” Jackson commanded.

A.T.A. would handle the remainder of our travel to the outer boundaries of the galaxy. We were responsible for bracing ourselves against the trip. Massive towers of some of the most ingenious human engineering spurred to life. Lights activated from the outside of each of the five pylons, slowly in toward the center, like a bullseye target, as we sped forth.

“Dropping to sublight speeds. Thermal shielding disengaged, antimatter shields engaged, inertia dampeners engaged. T minus ten. seconds to Gateway insertion.” A.T.A. announced.

Just a flash of an instant through the hole and a mandated twenty four hour recovery period would be my reward. A.T.A. performed the majority of our maneuvers. Training Pilots such as myself always seemed strange to me. Sometimes I thought that the military was just keeping us around as some form of sick joke, or maybe out of pure sentiment.

Humankind had mapped the majority of the galaxy and hadn’t discovered any other forms of life in it, so the chances of an attack upon our re-entry were slim, but according to falsifiability; never zero.

“Five-Four-Three-Two-One.”, A.T.A. announced to the cabin, as if we couldn’t ourselves see the massive blinding lights of the Pylons making contact with the ship’s exterior. A surging flash of hot white coupled with a straining against one’s muscles similar to that of an old carnival ride flattening your mass using artificial horizontal gravity.

Organs smushed together with our skin as, even in our specially designed suits, our body mass began to compress. I could feel my eyeballs sinking into the back of my skull and the threat of my organic skin cells attempting to bond with the synthetic padding of my spacesuit. The antipressure tanks strained to push gasses into the suit in order to fight against the forces generated by the wormhole.

Then, blackout, all in less than a second.